#and my experience in retail might just give me a let up in pay if I'm hired

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part II

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 3799

STORY PAGE

The pavement was wet from the rain as you stepped onto the curb. You cursed yourself for wearing your best shoes, knowing you’d have blisters by the time you got home. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the rain had let up, so you quickly shut your umbrella, eyeing the cafe in front of you. The HELP WANTED sign in the window caught your attention. With a sigh, you pulled open the door. If you couldn’t find a job today, at least you could dry off with a latte and a muffin.

“What can I get you?” asked the woman behind the counter.

“Yes, I saw your sign up front? What’s the job?”

The older man who had his back to you called out, “You got experience?”

“Uh, yes sir, if you mean waiting tables.”

The man turned around, his face expressionless. “What about cash register?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve done that too. All kinds of retail and customer service.”

“Any days you aren’t available? I need weekends.”

“Yes, sir. I mean…no sir, I’m free everyday.”

“Good. Fill this out.” The man reached behind the counter and pulled out an application, then grabbed a pen from a nearby jar, handing them both to you.

“Thank you,” you grinned. “Oh. And can I get a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin?”

After paying for your order, you sat down at the nearest table to begin filling out the application. You were nearly halfway through it when a shadow fell over your paper and you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t believe it.”

Looking up, you saw him standing next to the counter. He wore a black hoodie and shorts, his windblown hair pushed back by sunglasses.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, gripping the pen tightly. If it had been a pencil, it would have snapped. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…it’s a cafe. I’m getting coffee.”

Pursing your lips, you shifted your chair so you were facing away from him. You heard him order a flat white before his sneakered feet squeaked past you to a table by the window. You grimaced as you watched him open his backpack and pull out a laptop.

“Here you are ma’am,” said the woman who had been behind the counter.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at her as she set your coffee and muffin on the table. Then she walked over to Harry, serving him his order.

“I can’t believe this,” you mumbled to yourself, knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon.

Trying your best to concentrate, you managed to get to the last page of the application before raising your head to find Harry staring at you.

“Do you mind?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Looking for a job?”

You couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or genuine.

“What do you care?” you grumbled.

“I…” he began before changing his mind with a shrug. Then he took a sip of his coffee and returned his attention to his computer.

Signing your name at the bottom of the application, you rose from your chair to turn it in.

“Why’d you leave your last job?” asked the man after he scanned your paper.

Your stomach went sour, your throat closing up. You’d dreaded that question all day. Seemed no one wanted to give a smart-mouth cocktail waitress a second chance.

“It just…wasn’t the right fit for me,” you replied.

“After two years? Zelda’s huh? That some fancy joint?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you think this coffee shop is a better fit?” the man chuckled.

“I don’t know. But I’d like the chance to try.”

Hesitating, the man shrugged. “I’m gonna need a good reference. Is it alright to call your last employer?”

“Oh. Uh…” You thought you might throw up. “I don’t-”

“I can vouch for her, Stan.”

You swung around, incredulous to what you’d just heard. He was vouching for you?

“You know this young lady, Harry?” asked Stan.

“Yeah.” Harry stood up and walked over to you. “Celebrated my birthday at Zelda’s, and she was my waitress.”

“Oh?”

Harry looked you straight in the eye and said, “She was brilliant. Best waitress I ever had.”

If your knees hadn’t just about buckled then, you might have noticed your jaw dropping. What?!

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” offered Stan. “Tell you what. Come back tomorrow. Ten o’clock. We’ll see if it’s a good fit.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did Harry just help you get a job?

“Thank you,” you let out a breath and quickly beamed at Stan. “See you then.”

Although he remained standing near your table, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Harry as you gathered your things, gulping down the last of your coffee. Then swinging your purse over your shoulder, you turned for the exit.

“Y/N,” you heard him say, but rather than make the situation more awkward, you merely muttered a quick thanks.

It wasn’t until you were out the door that you heard him call you again, this time louder.

“Y/N!”

With a deep sigh, you stopped walking. Harry caught up to you, something of yours in his hand.

“You forgot your umbrella,” he explained.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” 

As you took it from him, your hands brushed, sending an unexpected electric current through your skin. You finally looked at him then, his eyes sincere. For the first time, you noticed they were a light green, a darker circle lining the irises. The wind whipped around you, and you caught a whiff of his…cologne? Perhaps it was just soap or some kind of body wash. Either way, he smelled nice. Clean. Like he’d just showered, though he’d skipped the shave. You noted the facial hair on his top lip and along his jaw, and found yourself wondering how many unshaven days it took to grow.

Suddenly, you stepped back, worried that you’d been staring and that he’d noticed. Surely, he’d noticed.

“Um…good luck tomorrow,” you heard him say as you pretended to check for something in your bag.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Why was he being so nice?

“Well…see ya,” he gave a slight gesture of his hand before turning back toward the cafe.

“Harry?” you called after him.

“Yeah?”

You took two steps closer to him, but careful to still keep a distance.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why…did you do that?”

Harry shrugged as though the answer were simple. “I caused you to lose your last job. So I helped you get a new one.”

Unable to respond, you stood still as you watched him reenter the cafe, feeling completely bewildered.

You sat in the small room in the back of the cafe during your break, sipping on a nitro cold brew that your co-worker Jill had taught you how to make. It was only your third day, but so far you liked working there. It definitely wasn’t Zelda’s, but it was better than nothing. The clientele was different to say the least, but you were enjoying the somewhat pleasant and low-key atmosphere.

Stan, the manager, had seemed to take you under his wing. You wondered if it had to do with Harry, and what exactly his relationship was to him. You assumed he was a regular customer at the cafe, though you hadn’t seen him return since you started working there.

As you scrolled through your phone, you suddenly got a text message from Shae.

Look who’s having a special this weekend.

Underneath was a link to Fine Line Ink’s Instagram page. You’d told your roommate about the entire encounter with Harry and how he’d basically helped you get your new job. Shae had wondered why on earth you hadn’t just kissed him right there in the middle of the cafe, but she always was a bit dramatic.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about Harry anymore. Your head told yourself you still hated him, that he was a dick who was feeling guilty and needed to cleanse his aura. But your gut told you that he was something more than that. That he truly was sorry for getting you fired, and wanted to make amends.

You scrolled through the photos on the Instagram page, beautiful and striking images of ink on skin. Everything from delicate bracelet tats to full back tattoos and sleeves, some in basic black ink, and some in a rainbow of colors. They were all exquisite. He truly was a good tattoo artist.

Checking the time on your phone, you realized your break was over. Tossing your phone in your bag, you returned them to your locker. After a quick stop to the restroom, you stepped out into the cafe to find him sitting at the same table as before, beside the window. This time, however, he didn’t have his laptop, but rather an iPad, a stylus pencil in his hand. Jill had just set down his flat white when she gasped.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed. Then looking up, she saw you. “Y/N, c’mere, you have to see this!”

You shuffled hesitantly over to Harry’s table where he sat with his back to you. Gazing over his shoulder, you saw that he had drawn a raven. The detail was so intricate, down to the branches, flowers and moon. You almost felt as though if you were to reach out and touch the drawing, you could feel the bird’s feathers.

“Isn’t it amazing?” asked Jill.

“Stunning,” you breathed.

“He’s a tattoo artist. I keep telling him I’m gonna come get a tattoo from him, but I’m too chicken,” Jill laughed as she made her way back to the counter.

A couple at a corner table got up to leave then, so you quickly walked over to clean it. As you moved the sugar container, you heard your name. You looked up at him quizzically, though you didn’t say a word.

“How’s the job going so far?” he asked.

“It’s good,” you nodded sharply.

“I’m glad. I come here at least twice a week. Have been for a long time. Stan and Carol are good people.”

“Yeah…I…I can tell.” Carol, you’d learned the other day, was the woman who had been behind the counter when you’d walked in. She was Stan’s wife.

The door opened then and a young woman entered. You secretly hoped you could go help her as an excuse to stop talking to Harry, but Jill beat you to it.

“Do you…need another coffee?” you asked him as he lifted his cup.

He gave you a smirk. “Just got this one.”

“Oh. Right. Anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” Taking a slow sip, he watched you over his cup.

You gave a curt nod before returning to the counter. It was a fairly slow afternoon, and other than a handful of customers who came and went with their coffees to go, you didn’t have much to do. Jill continued to train you on a few more things, and you were grateful for the distraction. Because even though he wasn’t doing anything other than drawing on his iPad and sipping his coffee, Harry’s presence was getting to you.

Making the rounds, you refilled napkin dispensers and Sweet & Low packets, all while sneaking looks at what Harry was drawing. You didn’t know why it even mattered to you, but something about his art was captivating. You watched as his pencil glided across the screen, how he’d sometimes use his thumb and forefinger to zoom in and out. Once, you caught a view of a scene he was drawing - not just one focal point, but rather a series of buildings along a city street, nightfall in the background. Each building had various windows lit up, as well as street lamps. If you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought it was a photograph.

Sometime in the process, you finally took notice of his fingers, how long and slender they were. You paid attention to the way they moved and flexed as he drew, and most importantly, how nearly each one was adorned with some kind of ring. Lost in thought, you almost missed it when he lifted his head to look at you.

“It’s so easy to watch him, isn’t it?” remarked Jill, saving you from embarrassment as she stood next to you. “Sometimes I forget where I am!”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed the rag you were cleaning with and stuffed it in your apron. Then as you finished with the last napkin dispenser, you caught a small smile curling on Harry’s mouth.

Finally, an hour later - an hour and eleven minutes to be exact - Harry slipped his iPad into his backpack and zipped it shut. Pretending to busy yourself behind the muffins, you watched as he slipped his arms through. Then shoving his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his wallet, grabbing a couple of bills and leaving them on the table. As he made his way toward the door, he gave a small wave.

“Goodnight, ladies,” he said.

“Bye, Harry,” Jill called. As soon as he was outside, she slumped against the counter. “Oh my God, I hate when he’s here. I can hardly function!”

Holding back a chuckle, you asked, “Does he just come here to draw?”

“Mostly, yeah. Or sometimes he works on his website. He doesn’t just do tattoos. Like, that’s his livelihood and he’s really good at it. But he’s like…a legit artist.”

“Oh,” you sounded. “You mean, like in a gallery?”

“Mmhmm. I think he had some sort of exhibit a few weeks ago. It’s on his website if you wanna check it out. Harry Styles art dot com.”

Huh. So there was more to Harry than just some drunk prick at a bar. You were anxious to get your phone and look up his website.

“Oh my God!” Jill gasped from the table Harry had just left.

“What?”

“Harry usually just leaves a couple bucks for tip. He left two twenties!”

“Seriously?” you asked, rounding the counter. Why would he do that? “He only had one coffee, right?”

“Yep. What a sweetie! Here!”

Jill handed you one of the twenties, but you shook your head. “But I didn’t wait on him.”

“Doesn’t matter. We split tips at the end of the night anyway. This saves us time.”

Taking the bill, you mentally added one more reason to your list of why this Harry Styles was more than he seemed. Mysteriously generous. Was it a good thing? Or did he have an angle?

You didn’t know. But you were determined to find out.

Shae had a date. For the first time in forever, you had a Friday night off. It was weird, being in the apartment alone on a weekend night. After making a quick, easy meal and watching a couple of episodes of SVU, you were bored. You thought about visiting your old pal John at Zelda’s, but you didn’t wanna take the chance of running into your former boss.

Tapping on your phone, you opened the last website you’d visited - Harry Styles art dot com. Over the last twenty-four hours, you’d opened it at least half a dozen times. Displayed on the main page were photos from an art exhibit in January, the one that Jill had mentioned. While the art itself had no doubt been exquisite, your eyes kept veering to the photos of the artist. He stood in a suit, much like the one he’d worn at Zelda’a. In fact, he looked very similar to the way he had that night, the main exception being that he didn’t appear to be drunk, nor was he frowning. On the contrary, he was smiling in nearly every photograph. You noted the dimples in his cheeks, the crinkles beside his eyes when he smiled, the five o’clock shadow. Even you had to admit - albeit secretly - he was a very handsome man.

As you had scrolled through the various pictures from that night, you soon came across a handful of him standing next to a woman in a long, champagne colored dress that fit her curves, her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Taking a closer look, you recognized her as the girl at the bar, the one whose ear was attached to Harry’s tongue.

Nicolette.

For some reason you felt a twinge in your stomach. Jealously? Shaking your head free of the notion, you continued to peruse the website. Eventually you came to a link that brought you to the site for Fine Line Ink. There you saw the announcement at the top, advertising thirty percent off all tattoos, and forty percent off body piercing, just like the text Shae had sent you the day before.

Setting down your phone, you thought for a moment. You figured he’d be pretty busy on any Friday, but particularly this Friday with the special. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, but somehow you found yourself driving to Fine Line Ink anyway.

The familiar fragrance of incense wafted through your nostrils as soon as you opened the door. Classic rock seemed to be the genre of choice for the evening as Aerosmith pumped through the speakers. You were right in assuming the shop would be busy, as three other customers sat in the waiting area, filling out their forms.

“Hi, how can I help you?” asked a guy who emerged from the back.

“Yeah, um…I don’t really know yet,” you replied. “I just need to talk to Harry…for a second.”

“Oh. Well, he’s in the middle of a tattoo right now.”

“That’s okay,” you grinned. “I can wait.”

“You sure? It may be a while, and he’s pretty booked up. We have other artists who can h-”

“It’s fine,” you held up your hand. “Seriously. I just need to talk to him when he has a minute.”

“O-okay.”

When the guy shuffled away, you took a seat in the waiting area. You scanned the walls, various artwork adorning them until you spotted a large drawing of the Beatles. Had that been there before? Had Harry drawn it? It was really good, the artistic detail spot on.

You watched another man say goodbye to a customer and then bring another one to the back before Harry finally made his way to the front. To call the look on his face surprised when he saw you would have been an understatement. As he chatted a bit with the client he’d just finished, you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey,” he said when the guy left. “Kyle said someone was waiting to talk to me. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you let the words slip from your lips.

Harry shook his head, blinking slowly. “That’s not what I meant.”

You exhaled, hoping your quick response hadn’t offended him. Your reflexes were still on alert. Addressing the other customer who sat next to you, Harry smiled.

“I’ll be right with you, Carlo.”

“Yeah, no problem, man.”

Carlo and Harry both looked at you as Harry gave a tiny grin. “Wanna come back?”

Rising from your chair, you followed Harry through the shop, to the very back where he pushed open a door.

“Come on in,” he gestured.

As he shut the door behind you, you noted the desk in the corner, more artwork on the walls, and bookshelves. Pulling out a chair, Harry asked you to sit.

“Everything going well at the cafe?” he asked you.

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Actually, that’s what I came to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned against his desk, his arms crossed. You noticed how tall he seemed standing while you sat.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “I realized I never properly thanked you…for helping me get the job.”

His lips twitched as he held back a smile. Or perhaps a smirk. “Alright.”

With a sigh, you looked up at him. “I’m afraid I haven’t acted very grateful. I let my pride and my ego get in the way when you-”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupted. “It’s okay. You have every right to hate me. Still. I said what I did to Stan because I regretted the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve any of it. It was…the only way I knew to make it up to you.”

“Okay…” you swallowed. “Still…thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But…”

“But what?”

Harry shrugged. “I reckon I should have tried to get you your job back at Zelda’s.”

You smiled, looking down at your hands. “It’s fine.”

“Really? ‘Cause…you can’t possibly be making the tips at the cafe.”

Biting your lip, you lifted your head. “Thanks for that, too, by the way.”

“What?”

“The extra tip yesterday.”

“Who said that was for you?” Harry teased with a smirk.

You couldn’t hide your chuckle.

“Listen…” he continued, placing his hand over his chest. “I feel bad. I was honest when I said that wasn’t me that night.”

You nodded, sliding your palms across your thighs. Were you sweating?

“You’re an artist,” you commented.

“I am.”

“I saw your website. You do beautiful work.”

“Thank you,” Harry grinned.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

Shaking his head again, Harry pulled his chair in front of you and sat down. Then leaning towards you, he seemed to study your face.

“I gave you plenty of reasons to jump to conclusions about me. Can we start over?”

“Start over? What do you mean?”

His dimples dipping in his cheeks, Harry held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Harry Styles.”

Mimicking his grin, you gently shook his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m really excited to get to know you better.”

“Really?” you blushed.

“Yes. Do you work tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift.”

“How about dinner?”

“No, I don’t work the dinner shift,” you shook your head.

Harry threw his head back laughing, startling you. His cackle rang through the office, vibrating every pulse in your body. What was happening? How did this guy suddenly have this effect on you?

“That’s not what I meant, love.”

“Oh,” you blushed again. Damn it.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Oh.” Oh! “Um…you don’t work here tomorrow?”

“Nope. My night off.”

Though you tried your best to fight it, you couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. “Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

After settling the plans for the next evening, Harry walked you out to the front where Carlo sat patiently waiting.

“By the way,” said Harry. “What happened with your friend? The one who wanted the tattoo.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you hesitated. “She um…went somewhere else.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Don’t be so disappointed, Harry,” you chuckled. “You forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

“I haven’t gotten mine yet.”

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

[captainjonnitkessler]

Hey Captain, got a question from a stranger to a stranger (if you don't feel like answering, no probs at all!).

I'm seriously considering turning my life around and starting an apprenticeship to work as a roofer (in my country that'd mean 3y of apprenticeship with low pay for a job with okay pay afterwards). It'd be my first contact with construction and first physically demanding full-time job (have worked physically demanding jobs part-time before, and have enjoyed the construction work i've done as a volunteer). But i'm already 27 and finishing up a Master's degree...

What are things you think i should keep in my mind before taking this sort of step? What were your experiences when starting construction? I'm a bit afraid of the culture shock but also my skin starts to crawl when i think of doing the kind of brainy project management job i'm currently doing for the foreseeable future. I come from a family of academics so construction is a really foreign world but i don't want to let fear/uncertainty make me miss out on trying out a job i'd be proud off. I'm fishing left and right for advice to help me make up my mind so any tips are so very welcome :D

Cheers! Also i enjoy your blog a lot, feels very good to have a level-headed rationalist in the dash

Hey, thanks for asking! I love talking about my experience in the trades. I used to be in school for software development before I joined the trades, but I just couldn't see myself sitting in front of a computer in an office setting for the rest of my life. I liked working with my hands and being active, so when I was about 26 or so I decided to take the plunge and I couldn't be happier.

Things to consider before starting:

The culture shock is very real. In America, the culture is changing slowly but surely as more women and minorities join, but it's still very much a white cishet boy's club. Unions provide some protection against discrimination, but it's not perfect - you'll need a thick skin. On the other hand, construction crews tend to be pretty tightly knit, so you'll usually have people who'll stick up for you if things start crossing the line.

It's physically difficult - you are going to be SO SORE for the first few weeks. Climbing a ladder uses muscles I didn't know I had before I started 😔 But that does get better with time, and it goes easier if you work out/keep yourself active in your off time.

It's dangerous, especially for roofers. Obviously there are a lot of safety precautions you're supposed to take, but a lot of people skip them because a) they think wearing Personal Protective Equipment makes you a pussy, b) there's pressure from the bosses to get things done fast and cheap and safety precautions take time and money, and c) PPE is just really annoying to wear. Again, unions and a thick skin will help - I get jokes about wearing PPE when nobody else is, but this job is hard enough on your body without helping it along.

This one is my own personal opinion, but I think the inherent danger of the job and witnessing accidents and deaths low-key traumatizes construction workers. Add that to the stigma against mental health treatment and you get very high rates of drug and alcohol abuse and suicide.

But in my own experience overall, I've been incredibly happy. It feels great to work with my hands and be able to see what I've accomplished at the end of the day and it feels great to be working on hospitals and schools and housing for people. You'll always be working with different people in different places, there's a lot of camaraderie that's really nice and there's always something new to learn and do. I don't think I could ever go back to retail or white-collar stuff - for the first time in my life I don't dread going to work.

Overall if you think it's something you might like, I'd recommend at least giving it a shot! Worst case scenario, sounds like you'll have your degree to fall back on and at least you won't be left wondering about what it would have been like.

[lcstxsculx]

it was probably best for all parties involved that isaac kept his …unconventional occupation… to himself. if he were to tell dolly that he was a reaper upon just meeting her that might freak her out and therefore warrant a call for security. completely unpleasant and avoidable for all parties involved. maybe way later down the road - after plenty of other conversations - he would tell her and she’d trust him enough to understand. “thank you. i tried. he was just so mean. i don’t understand why anyone would want to treat someone that way. especially someone trying to help him.” the world was a hateful place and that wasn’t new knowledge to dolly. it would be one of the things that didn’t improve outside of the compound. if anything, people were twice as awful to her. they laughed at her for being different, for the clothes she wore and her limited knowledge of how things worked. especially modern conveniences like computers and cell phones. she’d nearly been laughed out of the building when she said that she didn’t have a cell phone and had never been on the internet. it was hurtful but she’d learn to adjust. eventually she’d have a phone and maybe even a computer and she’d learn how to use them. dolly was smarter than people gave her credit for and she was a fast learner. “thank you.” she didn’t know if a job in retail was something she wanted to excel at but for right now that might not be a bad thing. she had no working experience and she’d only gotten that job because the grocery store was understaffed and desperate. whether she liked it there or not, dolly was determined to succeed and make a living on her own. she’d leave her grandparents house and get a place of her own and go see her children on her days off. they had custody of them and there was no way they were letting her take them with her. dolly felt like a bad person but she didn’t really mind - she’d never had a life free of the children that she'd never wanted to have and at least they’d be in a safe place where they were truly loved. “your bags?” she asked. “oh! you mean the reusable ones?” they had plenty of those and they were usually two dollars each. “here i’ll just give you a few.” no one would notice. “and then you will have extras. she turned on the light above her register so she wouldn’t get another customer and then pulled a few of the bags from under the counter and began to bag up isaac’s groceries for him. “you don’t have to use those.” she told him when he started to put things in the free paper bags. she’d never given recycling much thought. it was something she’d just learned existed when she started the job. it caught her off guard when he asked for her name. it was on her tag but no one seemed to pay attention or care. “my name?” she was still so awkward when it came to talking to most people. especially men. “oh, it’s dolly.” she pointed at the red name tag affixed to the ugly blue work vest. “dolly james.” she said in a more hushed tone. it seemed weird to be giving her last name out to people she didn’t know. 

"Neither do I know why he would be so rude to one that was only seeking to help him, whose very job is to help him but there are a lot of people out there who do things that no one else know the reason for. I think that's why we have shrinks so they can ask those kinds of questions instead of us normal people." He chuckles and looks at her as he goes around to help her bag up his own groceries "But those bags must cost a little bit surely. I don't want to get you in trouble when you've been such a nice person to me because that would just be rude of me. i don't like being rude to people although, there are several people who will tell you that I am rude because sometimes I miss social ques and things of that sort but I don't really think you can blame that on me. I stay in a lot since I don't have that many friends but to tell you the truth I don't let anybody in easy so that makes making friends hard." Issac then starts putting groceries in the bags with a tilt to his head "Forgive me but you don't look like someone who has made their life in the retail business even though you do seem good at it and I think that's a good thing because you should never trap yourself into one thing when it comes to jobs. I've been everything from a soldier to right now I'm a computer programmer and I've loved ever job I've had. my secret is always love what you do and no matter what you pick to do make sure that you have fun doing it because you don't want to be bored all day for Pete's sake.' He chuckles as he puts one of the bags in the cart and then goes back to the counter to start loading up another one. "Dolly, that's a very pretty name Dolly. I like it and it goes well with the last name too or at least it sounds good together even if it did or didn't work out with the man who gave you the last name or where you born with that one? Maybe I should have asked that first instead of stumbling over my words like I have been for the last couple of minutes. It's a pleasure to meet you Dolly and I hope that you have a good rest of your day after I'm gone and you don't have anymore assholes at your register today."

@onebigerror

[lily22223]

How to Create an Online Ordering System for Your Small Business?

Creating an online ordering system for your small business can seem like a daunting task, but trust me, it's easier than you think—and it's one of the best moves you can make to grow your business. Whether you're running a restaurant, a bakery, or even a small retail shop, giving your customers the option to order online can transform your operations and boost sales. Let me walk you through the steps to get started with a Food Delivery App Solution that works for you.

First, let’s talk about why an online ordering system is so important. Think about it—more and more customers prefer the convenience of ordering food or products online. Whether it’s for delivery or pickup, people want to skip the wait and enjoy the convenience of ordering from the comfort of their homes. If you're not offering that option, you could be missing out on a significant portion of your market.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: "I don’t have the budget or technical know-how to build an online ordering system." But here’s the good news: You don’t need a huge budget or a tech team to make it happen. With the right Food Delivery Solution, you can get an easy-to-use and affordable system up and running in no time.

Step 1: Choose the Right Platform

The first step in setting up your online ordering system is choosing the right platform. There are plenty of Food Ordering System options available that cater specifically to small businesses. When I was looking into options for my own business, I found that some platforms are ready-made, which means they come with all the features you need—like a menu builder, payment processing, and delivery integrations—all in one place.

Platforms like Square, Shopify, and WooCommerce offer food delivery app solutions that are user-friendly and don’t require any coding. Just sign up, customize your store or menu, and you're good to go. They also offer mobile-friendly versions, so your customers can easily place orders from their smartphones, which is a big plus.

Step 2: Customize Your Menu and Offerings

Once you’ve chosen your platform, the next step is to set up your menu or product catalog. This is where the fun begins! You’ll want to make sure your offerings are easy to navigate. Add mouth-watering photos, write clear descriptions, and be sure to highlight any special offers or popular items.

If you're running a restaurant, for example, make sure your Food Ordering System allows for customization—such as adding extra toppings, selecting portion sizes, or choosing sides. This gives customers the flexibility they’re used to when ordering in person.

Step 3: Integrate Payment and Delivery Options

One of the key features of any Food Delivery Solution is its ability to handle payments and deliveries seamlessly. Most platforms will let you integrate popular payment options like credit cards, PayPal, or even contactless payments like Apple Pay or Google Pay. Offering multiple payment methods can help reduce abandoned carts, as customers are more likely to complete their order if their preferred payment option is available.

Delivery is the next big piece of the puzzle. Many food delivery app solutions integrate with third-party delivery services like Uber Eats, DoorDash, or even local couriers. If you want to manage deliveries in-house, make sure your system supports that too. Some platforms even offer real-time delivery tracking, which is a huge plus for both you and your customers.

Step 4: Promote Your New Ordering System

Once your system is up and running, it’s time to spread the word! You’ll want to let your customers know that they can now order online. Use social media, email newsletters, and even old-fashioned flyers in-store to promote your new service.

Offering a small discount or free delivery on first-time orders can incentivize customers to try it out. Trust me, once they experience the convenience of your new Food Delivery App Solution, they'll keep coming back.

Step 5: Keep Improving Based on Feedback

One thing I’ve learned is that customer feedback is golden. After launching your Food Ordering System, ask your customers how they found the experience. Did they find the system easy to use? Were there any hiccups? Taking this feedback seriously will help you make improvements and fine-tune your service.

Conclusion

Setting up an online ordering system for your small business doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. With the right Food Delivery Solution in place, you’ll be able to offer your customers the convenience they crave, while boosting your sales and streamlining your operations. Take the leap—your customers (and your bottom line) will thank you!

[golbrocklovely]

This may be an odd ask but I saw you give advice in the past, but do you have any advice for someone who is a little lost in life RN? As in I have an office job and it's OK, it's kinda meh and not what I want to do forever nor is it a forever job as my boss has made it very clear. I have glanced at other jobs but I don't want to go back into retail and yet I don't actually know what I want to do with my life to escape the falling backwards into old jobs and basically I feel very lost in life right now, with a lack of any direction. So I was wondering if you had any advice you could offer someone like me?

i'm in the exact place as you rn, anon. i'm about to be 28 in a week and idk what i'm doing with my life at all.

when it comes to careers/jobs, this is how i kinda feel about it now. i think we were fed this lie growing up that your job or career needs to be something that you deeply care about, that it's your life goal or mission. and when i was a kid, i wanted to be a performer. i wanted to be an artist. and i would still love to do that. but reality is, the society we live in doesn't pay ppl to be artistic. they do, don't get me wrong, but you really only have a one in a million shot to be famous or to really be able to live off of the art you make.

so now, i kinda see my job as just that - a job. i just want one that pays the bills and doesn't annoy me every waking hour i'm there. my job doesn't define who i am. it's just a way to make money bc i have to. so if that means retail, whatever. if that means an office job, also whatever. what i do outside of my job is who i am as a person.

the writing, painting, drawing, singing i do outside of work - that's who i really am as a person. not a retail worker. no one is gonna remember me for my ability to fold a shirt in less than five seconds. they're gonna know me for my stories or my voice.

so as for you, since you already know that your current job isn't a long term one, start looking for a new one asap. i have to do the same too. i know you don't want to work in retail again - i'm in the same boat with you there, but if you gotta for a while, don't let it knock you down. look for office jobs first, since now you have experience in one. and then worse case, you work retail again.

find something outside of work to define you. a hobby of some sort. maybe you already have one. let that be who you are, not your job.

bc at the end of the day, as long as you're making enough money to survive, it shouldn't matter how. and who knows, you might stumble upon your dream job or career, or your dream hobby that helps you unwind enough to not care about work.

[kyuohki]

Okay, I like phone interviews much better. I can't pace as I come up with answers in a traditional interview, but boy did that help my nerves today!

[mangodestroyer]

I'm so sorry to hear that you've been going through this as well!

I'm not even physically disabled myself! But retail sure as hell makes me feel like I am sometimes. I used to be that person who could just stay thin with very little effort and walk a fifteen-mile hike through some rough ass terrain like it was nothing! People worried about me and thought I was starving myself. Others joked and called me hollow leg. People thought I was too thin to be strong, but I have always been tall and muscular for my bio sex. I used to work another job where I lifted up to fifty pounds all day for ten hours, forty hours a week. Non-stop. I'd work outside in blizzards, dragging huge grocery orders through the snow. As an awkward, lanky 20-year-old who only weighed 120 lbs.

But this job? This job has me lying in bed for most of my free time. My joints sometimes get so sore and I feel like I have to take so many measures to reduce inflammation. Despite still being a physical job... that weight I put on is being so fucking stubborn. I've started reducing my calories by quite a bit too. I do think about exercising, but I cannot bring myself to get out of bed to do that. I think it's the mental exhaustion doing this. I'm mentally disabled and really, I probably shouldn't be working a job like this. I'm already a high risk for mental health (moderate depression and anxiety). I have a diagnosed disorder that basically means I'm borderline autistic. And I think I might also have ADHD and cPTSD as well. You're right, the scheduling doesn't help with your social life. Not that I have much going on anyway, but it doesn't help me build one. Nor does it make me a fun person to be around because I am always burnt out and often in a bad mood. I probably seem boring, bitter, and borderline crazy. I'm also now addicted to weed and caffeine. I'm not even functional without those things.

No, it doesn't have to be like this. I genuinely believe that capitalism has set things up like this on purpose. If you look all throughout history, tons of empires had a slave class. Wage slavery IS actually recognized as a form of slavery. It just doesn't seem like it is because we still have some semblance of freedom and you can, in theory, work your way out of this. But let's be real here, who often ends up working these jobs? People from rough backgrounds/those who are desperate and can't find anything else. You have zero bargaining power in this line of work and the general public thinks you're a lesser being for working a job like this. The company treats you like dirt and acts like nothing you do is ever enough. And the scheduling literally makes it so difficult to decompress from a shift and think about/do other things with your life. I feel like the whole point of it is to keep you trapped/stop you from thinking you can actually work your way out of it. And keep you too tired to even want to try. I mean... it would actually be easier for them to give everyone a set schedule and it would reduce the overturn by quite a bit if they made things even a little bit easier for us. I think they need to convince people that they are trapped and can't bring themselves to find something else so that they can continue to give shit pay and horrible working conditions. Look into the phenomenon of "tolerable level of permanent unhappiness." It's literally a tactic used by ab*sers.

My advice is to try and fight through it and do whatever you can to find something else. Learn some tricks to improve your resume and interviewing skills. Learn how to market yourself. Talk to people who work in the hiring process or who just happen to know some things about it (I found out that I actually have a lot more skills than I thought I did). Try to get any amount of education that you can and seriously look back on everything you've done in your life to see how it applies to a job you're applying to. I was surprised to find that my experience working in a lab in school, working with Excel, and writing lab reports was desirable to an office job I was hired for (part-time on campus). Someone mentioned that my minor in mathematics probably helped make me more desirable as well. I also got hired for a theater job and the person interviewing me was delighted to find out that I was in choir, orchestra, and theater all the way back in grade school. And even that performed on stage multiple times for many years. That was so many years ago! And... neither of these jobs has anything to do with anything I've studied in college.

Just get out! It doesn't get better!

Not that I want to talk about it too much or anything, but now that I'm actually leaving retail for real (because I finally secured something else and can afford to leave), I'm kind of thinking a lot about how shitty this job actually is. And how I sort of just got used to it after a while.

I mean, first, there's the obvious of retail being a hella toxic environment. You're constantly facing the public, and have zero ways of standing up for yourself and avoiding it. Companies also push for you to reach extreme goals and push for workers to be super competitive over the metrics. All this micromanaging, as well as the bs from the customers, can easily cause co-workers to become burnt out and bitter. Leading to toxic work relationships as well.

Secondly, it's so much physical labor. And my job in particular also requires a high level of social intelligence. I mean, you have to actually SELL things to customers, on top of balancing a thousand different tasks (and completing them within a certain time frame while also putting out other people's fires). I mean, seriously. It's difficult to draw the energy to have a whole-ass sales pitch, individualized to the customer you're speaking to when you've been rushing to complete three projects.

It's also the scheduling. You can never have the same schedule every week. And the shifts are always all over the place. One week, you might have six four-hour shifts, the next week, you have an eight-hour shift where you work till nine at night, and then have another eight-hour shift the next day requiring you to come in at five or six in the morning. Maybe you worked nothing but evening shifts for the past three months. Now you're suddenly being scheduled morning shifts after you've gotten used to going to bed at four a.m. because you hate waiting to go to your job during the day. Maybe you're scheduled two 35-40 hour weeks because it's a very busy sales period and there is A LOT OF WORK TO DO. Then you're scheduled for nothing but 8 to 16-hour weeks and there's nothing to do/you have no money. You're scheduled for every weekend and holiday. You can no longer feel excited about those while everyone else is having a blast. In fact, you forgot that going to the store is something that people sometimes do for fun. If you ask to limit your hours and have certain times/days off, you'll get heckled for it. Sometimes, you're asked to cover shifts and people get annoyed if you decline. You're asked to find someone to cover your shift if you can't make it in. People get mad at you for being sick or for just wanting to use vacation days.

The pay. The pay is shit. All this for the lowest pay they think they can get away with giving people.

It is... exhausting! Even a simple four-hour shift leaves me feeling like I can't decompress. I have to take things to help me relax after work and to help me tolerate it the next day. Even then, I can't truly get myself to focus on my hobbies or anything. It's also made going to school difficult. It's so hard to think after being worked like that. Or to have the energy to stay on top of things. Also, I've gained weight since working this job. I was... 125 lbs when I started. I got all the way up to 165 lbs in three years and struggled to get down to 157 lbs these past few months. I feel like my stomach can't even digest a lot of food these days. Like, if I eat too much dairy or fruit or something, it feels like it just sits in my stomach for a long ass time until I get cramps and feel bloated. I never used to be like this. I also feel like I have more inflammation in general. And God forbid you have issues happening in your personal life. It makes all of this so much worse! Back when I was in a toxic relationship, I straight up wondered if I was developing b*polar/sch*zophrenia, d*mentia, or c*ncer. The stress was affecting me both physically and mentally THAT MUCH.

I spent three weeks away from my job a few months ago. I actually started feeling like I had some energy. I started feeling human again. It was pretty telling. Before then, I thought I'd finally gotten used to working that job and that maybe it wasn't so bad. Then I came back and was like, "Holy, fuck! This place is shit!" I started putting in job apps like my life depended on it for ANYTHING that wasn't retail or food service. ANYTHING. Even if I was underqualified.

And that's that. I will never do a low-paid customer service job again. If things ever get rough in the job market and I don't have a choice but to return to shitty work... I will literally do the actual SHITTY work of scrubbing toilets before I return to retail. I'm DONE.

[slithergaunt]

More of that stuff

Some of ya'll might remember I used to have a comic I did, Serpent Song

This shit was my LIFE for several years. A passion project I hoped would lead to other opportunities, but ultimately it was just something I wanted to do. I wanted to make a book and have it be finished and real. And it ended up actually happening! I proved to myself I could finish something and end up with a finished book. (In fact, one could still buy it, if one so wished) 

 It was hard hard work, but I ended up really happy with it. So I had every intention of continuing it.

Until, a couple pages into chapter 3, when I was hit with The Burnout. That dreaded thing we artists always fear, which can maim and cripple your brain like nobody's business. I tried to ignore/power through it for quite a while, but I was kidding myself. It was here.

That was 2019. To be fair, I also was neck-deep in the horrible sludge of Retail to make ends meet. I had less energy to go around, and comics (as you might've heard from other folks) requires a LOT of energy and attention span.

At the end of the day, it was enormous amounts of energy being poured into something that wasn't really keeping me afloat. I was hit hard. I'd never experienced burnout before, so it was a very new sensation, being unable to create jack shit.

Only in recent months have I finally started to get back into it. My living situation is vastly improved, and so far commissions have been enough to pay bills. Not only that, I'm ENJOYING commissions again. Things are better-ish. My brain is feeling competent again.

Personal work, artsy abstract work, different mediums etc.. have all helped me enjoy stuff again. HOWEVER, a lot of the stuff I've done, while fun and relaxing, hasn't given me that sense of accomplishment that Serpent Song did.

Lots of folks draw monsters and stuff all day long, and I love it too, but Serpent Song was the first time I'd ever felt "Holy shit, I'm the ONLY person who could've made this.." Lots of folks can get that feeling from different sources, but this was the first for me.

Lately I've been longing for that feeling more and more. The feeling of doing something that feels like a truly unique accomplishment. As terrified as I am of burnout now, I need to find a way to get that back. One way or another.

Plus, I really want to give people more of this story. I was so touched by how many people loved the book, even enough to make fanart of it! I wanna give back to the patre0n supporters and everyone who helped keep it going. There's so much more I want to do.

So in summation, I am currently in the process of making new Serpent Song chapters. I'll be experimenting with a few methods to hopefully make the process easier, which does mean there may be some visual changes in how the comic looks. I refuse to over-simplify the art and draw something that doesn't feel like my style, but depending on what methods work for me, line-art and shading may look slightly different that previous chapters. That said, I think I'm finally ready to pick up where I left off.

Let’s do crazy shit again. <3

[dragonthusiast]

My self-publishing experience

Saw @prettyquickpoetry do an AMA about self-publishing, and thought it might be good to share my experience with it over the last 3 years, maybe it will be useful to someone.

So let's make a numbered list and go down it.

1. Covers

A lot of people think having as accurate cover as possible is necessary, myself included, but apparently that's not really the case. What's actually important is getting a cover that accurately shows your genre. If you have a fantasy book, and the cover immediately evocated fantasy, even if it's just some glowing sword it or something, that's usually enough.

Obviously, if there's for example a dragon on the cover and there's no dragons in the book, that would probably annoy someone, but generic can work, especially because you can then get a premade cover, which are noticeably cheaper than getting a custom one.

And getting one made for paperback/hardback of course costs extra (and in my experience they barely sell), so that's also something to consider.

2. Formating

Another important thing to deal with prior to publication is formatting of the book itself. if you properly format your text in Word, clearly labeling chapters with heading styles, that should be enough for the ebook version (at least it is when publishing on amazon, not 100% sure about paperbacks, though). However, if you want to add more complex things like graphics, POV banners, basically anything to make the inside of the book stand out, things get complicated.

Obviously you don't have to do these things, as long as the book is readable, I don't think anyone will complain, but anything from adding a table of contents to links might be a problem without it.

So if you want to have more than basic formatting, you have two options that are known to me - you can either buy a program called Vellum, which is very expensive (I paid around 300 dollars with tax) and it's only available for Macs but it is very good, or you can have someone format the book for you, which is also expensive, but not this expensive. It really depends on how many books you plan to publish. If you want to do this a lot, the program investment might be worth it, if not, I'd of course suggest just paying someone to do it for you. There's usually more complex options when it's custom order formatting, too.

I also know there's some people willing to use Vellum for you on Fiverr, which I find kind of funny, given how much they charge for such an easy task. But it is allowed, so good for them, I guess.

3. Choosing where to self-publish

Another important decision is if you decide to only stick with Amazon, or if you use the other major retailers also (e.g. going wide). I only have experience with the former, so I can only speculate about the latter, but basically: if you stick with Amazon, you get the option to put your book(s) into Kindle Unlimited (KU), which is basically a library where readers paying a monstly subscription fee can choose books to read, and you get paid per page read. This boosts your chances of people giving your book a try because it's very risk-free for them - they can just stop reading if they don't like it and go about their day without wasting money.

Now is this worth doing instead of putting your book only on Amazon? Hard to say. My books definitely make the most money from page reads, even though you get half a cent per page, but I can't know how many sales I would have made if I hadn't put the books in KU, so I have no idea. I do hear that KU is especially good for romance, but I also feel like half of publishing is just romance, so that feels like an empty statement.

The Amazon only vs. wide debate seems to be an endless one with no one actually having any idea what's best, and everyone feeling very "oh if only I chose the other option, maybe then I'd get readers" about it, so just do whatever, I guess. You can opt out of KU 3 months after signing up for it, so it's pretty risk free, and if it's not for you, you can then go wide. Though I would suggest against then going back to KU, it annoys people when things keep changing.

I know this section has not been very inspiring, but also, I just don't know at this point. I will be trying going wide with my next series, but I have no expectations, mostly because apparently more that 80% of readership is on Amazon. So if you see anyone harrassing authors for publishing there, please, feel free to bludgeon them.

4. Pricing

Most books I've seen seem to be priced at 2.99 to 4.99 dollars. Again, this is just my Amazon knowledge because I don't sell anywhere else yet. The reason for this is that, on Amazon, from 2.99 to 9.99 you get 70% of the money from a sale, while 0.99 to 2.98 gets you only 35%. (Same for over 10 dollars of course.)

You can't publish a book as free on Amazon, but you can publish somewhere else where this is allowed (I can't remember which retailer allows this right now, but I know there is at least one) and then you can tell Amazon to price match that, so it will be permafree. However, I do know Amazon, being a money hungry snake, doesn't like this, and they will do whatever they can to make this process difficult, such as randomly the price switching back from free to whatever it was.

Indie books more expensive than 4.99 get fewer sales because it's just more of a risk for readers than if they bought a more expensive traditionally published book, though if you can make it work, go for it. The more money the better.

I think 3.99 is a nice price point where it's not as cheap as it could be, implying at least subconsciously some kind of quality, while still being cheap enough for the average reader to not be intimidated by.

5. Marketing

The most awful thing in existence. Not to be too dramatic. It feels like slamming your head against a wall.

I'll immediately come out and say that I have no idea how to make this work, so unfortunately, I can't recommend anything, but I did try a lot of ways to market, so I'll just list them here and give my experiences with them.

Usually there's two types of ads you can do - ad campaigns and newsletters.

The first uses keywords you pick and you generally pay per click on the ad, which doesn't have to result in a sale. In fact, it usually doesn't, in my experience, to the point that I haven't figured out how to make them profitable at all.

Newsletters have two types - one that you yourself put together, which I highly recommend you do immediately, even before publishing. Even just having a link in the book to a signup form for people who want to read more things by you is better than nothing. I use Mailchimp for this, but I don't know if I want to recommend it, there's a lot that pisses me off about it, but that said I haven't found anything better, and you get up to 1K emails for your list for free, which is a bunch of people to collect the email addresses of. In 3 years, I got 3 so far. Obviously you can boost these numbers by offering an incentive other than just people wanting to read more books by you. For example, giving them a novella connected to your book(s) for free if they sign up. I haven't done this, but that's because I'm a lazy dumbass.

The second type of newsletters is one where you pay for your book to be added to the email that's sent out by a third party. Usually you choose which genre your book is in so only people who read for example fantasy will get your fantasy book in an email of other fantasy books. These lists have thousands of readers, but usually they're only for discounted or free books, so they're best for series.

Here's a link to a comprehensive list of these services, but they're not very cheap, having gotten much more expensive recently, with the added problem of diminishing returns. The first promotion you do is usually pretty successful, but if you do it again for the same book in maybe say half a year, plenty of people who would be interested already have your book, hence smaller numbers. I've had the most success with FreeBooksy, but I haven't tried every single service on that list.

The best of these is BookBub, where it's supposedly almost impossible not to make your investment back from what I heard. The reason I only ever heard about this is because it's expensive as shit. You fork over hundreds of dollars for these. Right now, a free fantasy book promo which is shown to almost 1.4 million people according to the BookBub website costs almost 500 dollars. The most expensive seems to be women's fiction for a whopping 700.

And again, I need to stress this is if your book is free, so you won't make any money back directly, with non free book promos being even more expensive than this. You need this to be the first in a series, ideally. I wish I could try this out, but 500 dollars here is like half a monthly sallary, so it's a little unreachable for me, especially when I can't even be sure that money will come back to me.

But from second hand opinions I've seen, very few people complain about this being ineffective. It's just very unapproachable.

Okay, and now let's look at those ad campaigns.

Let's go from worst to best:

Twitter ads - awful, you get a bunch of clicks but I've never once made a sale despite getting hundreds of clicks, even on things that are up for a dollar. So I assume it's all bots. (Also Twitter might die soon or whatever, so I guess it doesn't matter anymore)

Facebook ads - supposedly work, you can even filter people who read ebooks on there when you know how, but even after reading a book about this specific topic, I have never made a sale that way, just like with Twitter. I think Facebook ads might work, but it's a money sink to the point that I couldn't get that many clicks before having to stop the ad campaign. I'm a poor eastern European student, ok, I can't afford paying a dollar per click, hoping that maybe after 10 I get a single sale that will give me back 2 or 3 dollars.

BookBub ads - yes Bookbub also does pay-per-click ads for books. They're also useless. The only reason I put them ahead of the other two is that I believe the clicks you get are from real people, and that they're not very expensive. But I have never made a sale here.

Amazon ads - the most success I've had with this type of ad. I feel a need to stress that this is incredibly relative, I barely made any money, I certainly never made enough to justify the ads, but it was the most effective of these. I usually tried them, only to grow anxious about getting click and no sales to the point where I decided that I must be doing something wrong, turned them off, only to repeat a few months later until finally I just gave up completely. People make good profit on these, supposedly, but I just couldn't figure it out. It didn't matter what book I put out an ad for, or what keywords I used. Even when I was randomly getting clicks, there were no sales. I just don't know, anymore.

Finally, something related to marketing but not exactly an ad:

Website - when I started I thought it was incredibly important to have an author website, and yes, it's neat, but it's in no way a necessity, and it costs a lot of money. I initially didn't think it was too bad, but that's because most website hosts give you a very discounted plan for the first three years, and then hit you with even tripple prices.

Even with the newsletter signups, you can use a service to host your form on their website, not to mention you can put one of the signup forms on a free website (at least Wix let me). But my point here is that you don't actually need a website if you don't want to bother. A Facebook page serves the same purpose, for example. And even if you do want a website, a free one is enough. If there's a reader out there who, upon visiting an indie writer's website, scoff that there's ads, or whatever, they are an asshole.

Of course, if you can afford a website, why not, go for it, but it's not something you have to have.

And related to this: I see a lot of people get hung up on reviews when they first publish. And yes, reviews are important, but I have never noticed a difference in sales between books that have reviews/have few reviews/have no reviews. My most "successful" book sold hundreds of copies if I also count KU reads, and that had no reviews for a full month. All those sales were organic too, I did nothing to earn this aside from writing the book (which should be enough in an ideal world but oh well). And then the reviews weren't very good, but the sales didn't drop off.

Opposite to this my first book is sitting at 39 reviews, with the worst being two 2 star ratings, the majority is 5 stars. Pretty good. Guess what that book will not sell unless I pay. At all.

What matters is algorithms, which supposedly can be jumpstarted by getting a lot of sales upon publishing. Apparently that makes the algorithm notice that the book is doing good and it will push it more so more people buy it. But I don't think anyone actually understands how the Amazon algorithm works, including Amazon. All this is is speculation. That said, I did notice there's usually some organic interest in a book shortly after publishing (as long as its the first in a series/stand-alone). The only time a book of my arrived dead on arrival was with The Circles of Magic. I wish I could say I learned what I did wrong, but no. I have no idea still.

And I think that's it. If I think of anything else, I'll add it. If anyone has any questions, I can answer them, also, so don't be shy. I wrote this not to make anyone second-guess their goal to self-publish, of course, I don't regret doing it, but I think it's good to share what it's been like so whoever might find this useful knows what it's like. And of course this is just my experience, I'm sure you could find someone with the exact opposite experience.

Special mention to @missdrarrydawn my beloved best fren best person alive . This has nothing to do with the rest of the post. It's just the objective truth, and she deserves a special mention

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  August Walker x OFC Freya (Forest Nymph) Original Female Character is described as white/pale, short and of small build, hazel eyes, long dark hair.

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of past abusive relationships, on the run, alcohol consumption, Daddy Kink, DD/LG, Pet names, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, hyperspermia, cum play, cum feeding, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy test.

Previous Parts: 

Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1 Vampire Walter: Chapter 2

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

The blood slowly trickled across the board and off the table, coating the floor before running into the drain. August raised the heavy cleaver, and with one thunderous swipe severed the femur clean in two. The cleaver made a metallic clang that echoed around the stark tile lined room, and wiping his hands on his apron he lifted the product of his work and inspected his efforts closely. A smile spread over his lips as he looked up;

“There we go Mrs Mackenzie, a nice juicy bone for your dog”

The old woman smiled, her purple tinted grey hair in tight curls that barely moved as she nodded;

“Oh yes, that’ll be perfect! My Clarence will love it!”

At that very moment Clarence started yapping outside where he was tied to the specials chalkboard that sat on the sidewalk outside Walkers Meats, 10lbs of teeth, fur and anger wrapped into the body of a small West Highland Terrier;

“I’m sure he will. I’ll wrap it up for you and Freya will finish ringing up your order for you. We’ll get it delivered this afternoon…”

August walked around the counter and set the wrapped bone into the box, nodding to his assistant to finish up the order. She knew that the bone would be free of charge, but that Mrs Mackenzie would insist on tipping and sliding her $10 which August was more than happy for Freya to keep. The slight girl turned and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before she quietly nodded and continued with her duties.

Returning to the butchery area August glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the painted mirror, the design obscuring the scarring on the side of his face, giving him that moment of relief from those memories of a past long ago, a life he had left behind when he had sought out quiet solitude in the peaceful mountain town of Blackwater Lake. People minded their own business there and didn’t ask questions. If you had a skill that could help others you were welcomed into the community. How August got into the meat business is a story for another day, but as his gaze travelled across the mirror to where Freya was measuring out the wild herb mixes into small mason jars he smiled and remembered instead how she came into his life.

-

Pulling the sign in from the sidewalk August was exhausted. Running a business completely on his own had seemed like a good idea when he’d started, he enjoyed his own company and he distrusted anyone else to do the job to a standard he would approve of. What he hadn’t counted on was the residents of this sleepy little town not only accepting him, but joyous that he was there and wanting to talk endlessly every time they visited his store. Although he was always polite and did his best to end conversations quickly, after eight hours of it he had jaw ache and knew he would need to work well into the night on the new sides of beef that had been delivered that morning if he were to have any stock to sell the next day. He glanced longingly at the small sign that sat propped up in the window; ‘Help Needed - Enquire Within’, yet he hadn’t had any takers in the month the sign had been up. 

The icy winter wind curled at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he let out a sigh, heaving the heavy sign into the building so it didn’t blow away in the night as a icy squall blew in from the mountains. As the door slammed shut behind him it echoed a knock around the store, but when it came again he turned and let out a far from masculine yelp; the face of a pale young woman stared back at him like a ghoul in the darkness. Clearing his throat and smoothing down his blue and white striped apron, he approached the door and opened it;

“May I help you Miss?”

She nodded down to the sign;

“Do you still need someone?”

Her teeth were chattering, and it was hardly surprising as she was barely dressed for the weather, the knitted cardigan doing little to ward off the cold wind. August opened the door to allow her to enter, looking down at the top of her head as she slunk past him.

“Let me get a pot of coffee on, you must be freezing”

As he disappeared into the back office he set the pot of coffee on to heat before grabbing an old jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, returning to where his visitor stood in the store a few moments later, handing her the jacket;

“Its cold in here, we can’t have the heat on because of the meat”

Nodding she took the jacket, her teeth still chattering;

“T-t-thanks… its still warmer than outside”

He handed her a mug of steaming coffee;

“Sorry, i don’t have any creamer or sugar…” She wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug using it more for heat than sustenance as he leant back against the counter on the other side of the store; “So… you’re wanting a job? What experience have you got? You worked in retail?”

She shook her head and muttered a quiet no, keeping her eyes averted from him as she spoke;

“But i will try anything… just looking for a new start”

“Are you running from something?” A gentle nod of her head and the way she clutched the mug tighter told August it was a someone not a something; “Look, if you’re willing to learn, work hard and pay attention, i’ll give you a trial. I’ve gotta level with you, you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in the sign, and i’m getting desperate, so if you want you can start tomorrow”

Her head snapped up and for the first time he saw her eyes, deep hazel peering out from behind long strands of dark brown hair;

“Really?”

“Yes. Really” he stated in a matter of fact way; “I’ll need to get your address and details for the wages…”

“Oh… i’m not… i’ve not got anywhere. I guess i’ll find a cheap motel…”

August paused;

“Kid, there’s no motel in town… at least not this time of year. But i might have a solution for you”

Her eyes widened in fear and August realised whatever she was running from had done more damage than she showed;

“No no, not that” he assured her; “There’s a small apartment above the shop - two in fact, i’ve got one and the other i’ve never rented out, never got round to it… its small but completely self contained, your own entrance and everything, completely secure”

Once a few forms had been filled out August had gotten the girl settled in the small studio apartment. He’d shown her how the fold out bed worked, explained that the hot water fed off the furnace for the whole building so she could use as much as she wanted. A couple of minutes after he’d left her in the apartment he knocked at her door, surprised to hear the locks sliding across at first, but then realising she needed to feel safe. When she peered around the door she almost looked surprised to see him there, as if it would be anyone else;

“Umm yeah?”

August handed her a box of things he’d scavenged from his own kitchen;

“Here’s just a few things to see you through the night… I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but the bread was in the freezer and it’ll defrost pretty quickly if you put it in the toaster”

He handed the box to Freya, surprised at how smooth but also small her hands were as she took it from him as they brushed against his own. She nodded and smiled;

“Thank you Mr Walker”

“Night. See you bright and early tomorrow morning” 

-

The next morning August woke to an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself he pulled on his robe and stalked across his small apartment, pulling the door open with a thunderous look on his face, ready to give whatever maniac that was knocking on his door at 5am a piece of his mind;

“WHAT THE… oh… hi…”

Freya was standing on his doormat, a look of shock on her face;

“Hi… i’m ready to start”

“To… start?”

“Work. You said bright and early”

August ran his palm over his face;

“I… When i said…” he let out a long slow breath; “I meant 8am”

“Oh.”

That was a long day, but by lunchtime Freya had mastered the cash desk and had already started to come out of her shell, the locals more than welcoming for the tiny girl with the woodland eyes, and with her help August was able to catch up on his work.

Over the following month her input had helped August expand his products, suggesting a range of seasonings in reusable jars, where if the customer returned the mason jar they’d get a discount off the next one they purchased. He discovered she had this unfathomable knowledge of herbs and plants, but also had this connection with nature he couldn’t quite understand. He’d sometimes catch her staring out of the window at the trees blowing in the wind, as if listening to their songs that were beyond his own ears.

One thing was for sure, there was a sense of magic to her and August thanked the stars above that she walked into his store on that cold winter night.

-

Back in the present August was busy cleaning the cutting table as Freya busied herself with her jars - it was her own little enterprise now and one she was absolutely proud of. He could see that she kept glancing outside, gnawing on her lip;

“Freya, everything ok?”

“Yes Mr Walker. I was just thinking, the next batch wild garlic is ready to be picked, if i collect some this afternoon i can have more chimichurri mixed ready for tomorrow, and that’s when the beef delivery is coming in”

August let out a chuckle;

“How many times do I have to say to call me August…” he met her gaze with a smile; “And yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. The store’s quiet and i’ll be doing deliveries in a while, so sure, go exploring”

“Thank you Mr Walker”

August rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, watching as she hung up her apron and grabbed her foraging basket, skipping out of the door and towards the creek that fed into the lake a couple of miles away.

-

Three hours later August was driving back along the gravel road that led into town, having made his deliveries. The spring air was damp but warm, rain threatening to spill but the clouds unwilling to release their bounty just yet. Rounding the bend he looked out over the soft marshland, the grass knee high already and he saw a familiar figure stepping through the green undergrowth. With a smile he pulled his SUV to a stop at the side of the road, stepping out of the vehicle he leaned against the door as he watched Freya as she slowly made her way through the field, before she stopped as her attention moved to the treeline. Following her gaze he watched as a bear emerged from the woods and his heart sank. The native wildlife would be coming out of hibernation, and would be grumpy and hungry. He went to shout but a sudden rush of wind silenced his voice, watching as she held her arm out and the grass flattened in front of her as if a wind devil had made its way through. Glancing back to the bear it had stopped in its tracks but was still staring at her, but then started to circle around on the spot before settling down as if for a nap.

August anxiously watched, knowing if Freya ran she could make it to the car as long as the bear was weak, but he didn’t want to risk that it hadn’t had a belly full of salmon yet, so he quickly reached into the vehicle and pulled his unregistered handgun from beneath his seat. Back at the side of the road he raised the firearm at the bear, glancing at Freya who had now spotted him waiting for her. She started to quicken her pace through the grasses, eventually breaking into a run as she neared the embankment of the road. August glanced to where the bear had been and let out a yell as he saw it was starting to approach them;

“Freya, RUN!”

Doing as he instructed she broke into a sprint, her legs carrying her through the grass and up the embankment. Flinging his door open he motioned for her to dive in, her basket being launched into the passenger footwell as she tumbled across the centre console and into the passenger seat, August launching himself into the driver's seat and gunning the engine as he slammed the door shut, the urgent crunch of tyres on loose gravel dulling the sound of the grizzly’s roar as it had caught up, but was now rapidly disappearing into the distance of the rear view mirror.

August only slowed down as he reached the urban centre of Blackwater Lake, Freya’s breathing having finally levelled out as she turned to him;

“So… there’s bears here?”

He slowed the vehicle and pulled to a stop in a parking lot before turning to her;

“Yes. And moose and cougars and mountain lions… hell sometimes I even hear howls in the night so there’s probably something wolfy up in those mountains too… We need to get you better prepared for nature” August paused; “And what was that thing you did with your hand? That made the grass flatten and the bear sit down…”

Freya shrugged;

“I’m not sure… it's just this thing i’ve always been able to do, calm animals down”

“Huh. Didn’t seem to work this time…”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide;

“I think that was because you were there…”

August let out a laugh, before sitting back in his seat;

“Okay, point taken. I need a drink. We’re at Big-G’s, I'll buy you dinner…”

-

August regretted his decision. He hadn’t factored in how slight Freya was in comparison to her ability to consume alcohol, so three drinks later where all he’d had was lite beer, Freya was completely wasted. The giveaway was when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder whilst he’d been talking to Geralt - the bar owner - and she’d started to drool on his shirt. Geralt had told him to ‘get his girl home’ with a wry laugh, telling August his meal was on the house. Something had stopped August from correcting the ashen haired man, looking down at the imp of the girl leaning on him. 

He’d managed to carry her to his car fairly easily but the journey up the steps at their building had been more of a challenge. He’d managed to get her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but had been surprised when she’d also wrapped her legs around his waist. Although it meant he could use one arm to hold her up, the feel of her warm body clinging to his sent a rush of heat through his stomach straight to his groin, he was just thankful she was so out of it she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. 

As he juggled his keys he found the spare for her apartment but then thought better of it, unsure how she was when she’d had alcohol, and instead opened his own apartment. Crossing the almost dark room he reached the couch and slowly lowered her down to the cushions, her whimpers of loss as he started to pull away making him pause;

“Mmmm Daddy, you’re so warm…” 

Holding her still a low rumble slowly bubbled through his throat when she nuzzled against his neck;

“Daddy smells so good…” and she pressed a kiss to the stubble on his chin.

August knew she was drunk, probably didn’t even realise it was him, after all who would want someone as broken and scarred as he was, but for that briefest of moment’s he relished her touch and what was going on in her tequila addled mind. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the briefest of kiss to her cheek;

“Time to sleep now little Kitten” he muttered before reluctantly uncoupling himself from her grasp, pulling a blanket over her as she dozed on his couch. Raking his hand down his face he let out a sigh, before grabbing a glass of water and setting it onto the coffee table in front of her. A scribbled note on the back of a flyer explained that she was drunk and he wasn’t sure if she would need his help, and he didn’t want to invade her privacy of her own apartment.

Having poured himself a generous glass of vodka, August withdrew to his own bedroom, silently closing the door before stripping for bed. It was an early night but without the TV to entertain him and no desire to get lost in a book, he settled on top of the covers in just his underwear, sipping at the ice cold liquor as he willed the swelling of his loins to subside. However every time he tried to clear his mind, all he could imagine was Freya. The thought of her small body beneath his, their bodies sweaty and writhing as one. Finally with a curse he gave in to his desires, pulling his underwear down and taking his hard length into his hand, pumping dry to increase the friction as his mind descended further into taboo territory. He imagined it was her hand, calling him Daddy as she asked if she was doing it right, that her perfect lips would duck down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, her tongue lapping at his slit as her hazel eyes would stare back up at him, wide with innocence. With a strangled cry he came in violent spurts, covering his hand and stomach in ropes of his cum, thoughts of the delicate woman in his lounge lapping at his spent seed prolonging his orgasm until he was aching and empty. With a curse he looked down at the mess he’d made, realising he needed to clean himself up.

-

The quiet click of his front door woke August the next morning, pushing himself up off the pillow as he heard small footsteps down the outside of the building and the quiet beep of his car being unlocked. Wondering what the hell was happening he leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw a dishevelled Freya gathering the wild garlic that had been scattered around his inside of his vehicle the day before.

A few minutes later the thud of his keys falling onto his doormat where she’d posted them through the letterbox sounded through his apartment, and when he went to collect them he found a small note with them;

‘Mr Walker, thank you for your help, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night. Your car stinks of garlic now, i’m going to walk up the creek and collect some herbs that will help reduce the odour, Freya x’

-

An hour later when she hadn’t returned, August set off towards the creek through the pleasant woodland, the sunlight leaving dappled patches of gold on the forest floor. Coming to the wide bend in the creek where the water was shallow, he saw the swing over the water that someone had put there years ago, mismatched ropes and a wooden seat, and how someone had now woven wildflowers into the ropes, and as he glanced upstream he saw Freya knee deep in the water, a butterfly dancing on her hand.

Something overcame him and he pulled off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants as he stepped out into the water and sat on the swing, silently watching as she charmed nature beyond a simple human’s comprehension, having control of the elements like a forest nymph. August had seen a lot of unusual things in the time he’d lived in Blackwater Lake, he knew those that had something a little special about them gravitated towards the sleepy little mountain town, so as he watched Freya make her way upstream towards him he realised there was magic in the air. Small water spouts rose from the water as she took each step, as if chasing after her touch as she stepped from rock to rock submerged under the water. 

As she approached the shallow bend in the creek she finally looked up and saw August, a smile spreading over her lips;

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Its so pretty here, isn’t it?” she asked wistfully

“Beautiful from where i’m sitting”

She approached where he sat, stopped at arms reach, a hint of blush warming her cheeks;

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate last night… thank you for taking care of me, i’m not a big drinker”

“You weren’t inappropriate…” he reassured her; “But it's been a while since a beautiful woman called me Daddy… since before… since before i was broken...”

Her gaze moved to the scar on the side of his face, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the spidery scarring. In that moment August felt the magic in her touch, prickling at his skin before she nimbly climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and she lowered her lips to his, softly brushing against his as she spoke;

“You’re not broken, no more than I am…”

The kiss was soft and slow, and as her tongue started to gently tease at the seam of his lips she eased her weight completely onto his lap, her core pressing to his, the heat of their growing lust growing like an ember between them. 

Her small tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him as she pressed her body flush to his chest, small whimpers coming from her as his hands splayed over her back and pulled her firmly down onto his growing arousal. When the need for oxygen finally took precedence August’s lips traced a path of kisses down her jaw and neck, her fingers winding through his dark curls as her head fell back to give him better access to the pale expanse of her collarbone;

“Oh Daddy…”

“That’s it my little one, i’m going to treat you so well, my little Kitten…” August’s mustache brushed against her heated skin as he spoke, the gentle sway of the swing letting their bodies move against each other.

Just at that moment an ominous creak sounded above them, drawing their attention up into the tree’s canopy, just in time to see the rope that held the swing up snap, plunging them down into the shallow creekwater below.

With shouts and screams the moment of passion was lost, taken over by the shock of the water hitting their heated skin. August helped Freya up, her dress plastered to her skin in much the same way his shirt was, soaked head to toe he shook the water from his hair;

“Home?”

“Yes Daddy” Freya purred, pulling into his touch as he wrapped an arm around her to help her out of the water.

-

Pushing in the door to his apartment, clothes were being pulled from each other's bodies even as the door was still ajar. As he pulled his shirt off, Freya’s hands were curling into the hair on his chest, an almost feral growl bubbling from her lips as she ran her hands down to his stomach and rested on the buckle of his belt. Catching her hands in his he held them gently, only speaking when she looked up and met his gaze;

“Kitten, I want to be sure you want this… You’re in total control here, you set the boundaries, you say when you need to stop. But if you do want this, i’ll be your Daddy and take care of you like a Princess”

Freya voice shook as she spoke;

“I want this… my last… he wanted to be my Daddy but didn’t treat me right. He took more than I could give…”

August lifted her small hands to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with such great care and tenderness her heart almost melted before she finally spoke again;

“We should really check for leeches”

“WHAT?!”

Freya had never seen anyone strip their clothing off quite as fast as August just had. For a big man - and a pretty tough one at that - the mere thought of little blood suckers had him stripping completely naked in a matter of seconds, Freya pulling her dress off a little slower until she stood in just her simple underwear. August was still patting himself down, turning to look at his behind;

“Am I ok?”

Freya couldn’t help herself, stepping forwards and taking two handfuls of August’s pert asscheeks, giving them a squeeze before running her palms over the perfectly rounded globes of his buttocks;

“More than ok”

In the following moments August carried her to his small bathroom, turning the shower on before he stepped under the warm jets of water, pulling her with him so he could soap her down. The scent of sandalwood of his soap as he carefully washed every inch of her body was overwhelming, taking care of her to wash any last traces of creek water from her body. He paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, waiting for her agreement which she quickly nodded for him to continue, his large hand sliding between her legs and caressing her lips. His skilled fingers soon sought out her pearl, teasing it gently from its hood before he slid a finger into her waiting heat, a cry falling from her lips which he quickly swallowed with a kiss. His work calloused hands quickly drove her to an orgasm - a first of many - and as she came she called his name, like a prayer on her lips. 

Shutting the water off, August carefully lifted her out of the bath, wrapping a large towel around her before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. On the messy covers her hair clung to her skin, before he carefully lifted the long tendrils from her chest and was able to take in the sight of her petite naked body laying fresh and prone on his bed. Her hand reached out for him, pulling him close;

“Daddy, I want to feel you…”

August smiled;

“Will you be a good girl for me Kitten? Do you think you can take me? You’re awfully small, and I'm pretty big…”

She sat up, pressing a hand to his chest;

“Can I try? Can I go on top?”

Nodding August lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, lifting her petite frame on top of him. He watched with pleasure as she wriggled down the bed, her hands gripping his thighs as she settled between his legs. Wrapping her small hands around his generous length she looked up at him as she started to give small licks to his hot flesh, her fingers struggling to encircle his meaty girth. Opening her mouth she took a good three inches between her lips straight away, a litany of curses falling from August’s lips as he felt the hot wet heat of her mouth engulf him. It was better than he could ever had imagined, and he had to grip at the bedsheets to stop himself from cumming at that very moment. Steadying his breathing he let out a low sigh before he reluctantly pulled her off, a trail of spittle hanging between his dick and her mouth;

“But Daddy, I want to taste your cum…”

“I know Kitten, but it's going to be a lot the first time, and I want to see your cunt dripping with me, knowing your tight little pussy is going to overflow with the amount I'm going to pump into you. Now be a good girl and see what you can do, let's make it fit…”

Straddling his thick thighs she positioned herself over his hard shaft, her hand holding him steady as she swiped him through her folds to douse his gnarled girth with her juices, before settling with the tip at her entrance. August ran his hands up and down her arms, comforting her and hoping to get her to relax. He was a patient man but the feel of her soaked flesh pressing against his crown was becoming a struggle not to grab her hips and pull her down until he was balls deep in one swift thrust.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Freya slowly lowered herself onto August’s shaft, going at a pace she could cope with, but the strain of holding back caused perspiration to bead on August’s forehead;

“Doing so well Kitten… I know its a lot, but you can do it… you’re so fucking tight…. Fuck…”

Taking a deep breath Freya finally let herself fall the rest of the way, feeling him part her silken walls until she was settled on his lap. Tears fell from her eyes, tiny diamonds adorning her cheeks at the overwhelming sense of fullness she was experiencing. Seeing these August kissed them away, his praises made her swell with pride as he admitted to her he was struggling not to cum from just the feeling of her tight walls engulfing him. He pushed a hand between their bodies, resting his palm on her stomach;

“Put your hand here… you’re so tiny I can feel myself deep inside you, your little tummy blown out with my dick…”

His thumb crept down and grazed at her pearl, making her cry out before yearning for more. With his ministrations she was soon relaxed enough to start to ride him, her nimble thighs bouncing on his meaty counterparts, feeling the slick push and pull as he filled her whilst she drove them towards their peak. 

Unsurprisingly Freya came first, the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her body was all too much to hold back, and she came with a silent scream, her body gripping August so tight it set him off, pushing in so deep he was sure his dick had kissed her cervix, before flooding her with endless ropes of his thick seed, soothing her inner core with his milky gift. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as the floods of emotions surged through her, stroking her back tenderly.

Eventually he carefully lifted her onto the bed, peppering her bare skin with bristly kisses, before parting her thighs and leaning back to admire his handiwork, a thick sheen of white covering her swollen petals. With a single finger he carefully swiped through his mess, before holding it to her mouth;

“Taste Kitten… taste our passion…”

Holding onto his wrist she sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue tasting their combined essence. When his finger finally dropped from her lips his gaze fell down and hers followed, her eyes going wide when she saw he was hard and ready for more. Laying back she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread herself open for him;

“Daddy, will you fill me up again, please?”

Positioning himself at her cum soaked hole August smiled, a dark hint of lust glinting in his eyes;

“It would be my pleasure Kitten”

-

Three weeks later

Freya chewed nervously on her lip, having circled the isles of the drug store too many times to count now, waiting for a time when there was no-one near what she needed. Finally it was the right moment and she slunk into the isle, grabbing the thin rectangular box before stepping back and bumping into someone, her item tumbling to the floor as a third set of feet appeared;

“Freya! Mrs Syverson! Good Morning!”

It was Sue from the coffee shop, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere just as Mrs Syverson had backed away from the opposite shelf to keep little baby Luna from grabbing the glass bottles of antacid medicine. Mrs Syverson immediately clocked what Freya had been holding;

“Oh Freya, could you just reach those things for me? I can’t reach down with Luna here…”

With shaking hands Freya handed the bag of cotton wool balls and the pregnancy test to the woman only a couple of years her senior, who in turn smiled at Sue as she laughed;

“Sy’s always keeping me on my toes… in more ways than one” She winked before tugging on Freya’s arm; “Sweetie, I need to place an order for a big cookout we have coming up for Sy’s birthday…”

Steering her away from town gossip Sue, Mrs Syverson lowered her voice;

“I’ll meet you outside sweetie, don’t worry about it, i saw you circling the shop”

A few minutes later Mrs Syverson appeared at the door, two drugstore bags in her hand before handing one to Freya;

“My advice, tell August now, do the test together”

“Are you sure? Do you think he’ll be angry?”

“Angry? Hell no, i think it’ll be what he wants, and no matter what the result he’s always had puppy dog eyes for you, we could all tell from the moment you walked into his life”

Peering into the bag Freya saw there was also a bag of Hershey’s kisses;

“You’ll need the sugar, to calm your nerves afterwards”

“Thanks Mrs S… i appreciate it”

“No problem Freya… and i’ll see you tomorrow, i really do need to place that order, but get today over and done with first”

That afternoon Freya and August took the test, then feasted on kisses of every kind.

[kojinnie]

AOT Characters’ Modern Jobs Headcanon; The Vets Edition!

The jobs that The Vets would have in modern!au, their workplace antics and their back story. There might be some inaccuracies when describing the job as obviously I don’t work at these industries to know its intricacies. Most of the jobs are office jobs. Enjoyyyy!

My Masterlist .::. Pt. II: Zeke Yeager’s Modern Jobs Headcanon   

Most recent work: Dream Me Home (Before Shiganshina) | reader x erwin smith

A/N: I really need to finish a presentation deck due tonight for an early morning meeting tomorrow but of course, this comes first hahaha 

erwin!

A/N: Basically lawyer!erwin is the way to go, innit?

He's in his 40s, so he may have a settled career

He came from a white-collar, middle-class family. So he wasn’t silverspoon-fed, but his parents had enough money to put him through good school

Got a scholarship to go to one of the nation’s finest law schools

Kept it lowkey in college’s social circle, graduated with summa cum laude, developed a strong academic relation with his professor, and got recommended for an internship at top law firm at the capital city

Starting his career as a corporate lawyer, but then built his expertise as white-collar crime attorney

In his early 30s, he represented a union suing against conglomerate corporation in a big case that had national coverage, from then on he began to know his calling

Expanding his portfolio and became well-known for defending workers, consumers and civilians against corporate fraud scheme

Currently doing a lot of pro-bono cases for deprived victims of big corporate fraud. You would see him frequently gracing your local newspaper we love us some socialist king

On the side, he often writes for law journal and fills in as guest professor at local universities for summer courses

Established his own law firm with some of his partners, specializing in white collar crime and labor & employment law

He’s damn accomplished, but never really had any time for self-indulgence. Even after he becomes a household name in the country, with tens of attorneys working under him, his employees would still see him working on New Year’s Eve

He was always attentive to his employees, though. Although he has a very strict, borderline no-life work ethics, he never forces his employees to follow his habit, in fact he despises when his employees works on holidays and can be seen blaming himself for it a bit of a hypocrite but thats ok

He still takes metro to work. He prefers a very lowkey, ordinary lifestyle because he fears if he shows any knack for indulgence, he will be susceptible to gratification from potential enemies or crooked politicians

Definitely a sight to see at the workplace, for he's tall and always oozes a sense of authority in the way he speaks and carries himself generally

His emotional intelligence is top-notch, you would never meet someone who is able to be very objective and calculating, while being kind and compassionate at the same time

His fellow attorneys put a lot for respect for him, and hundreds of applicants come to his considerably small firm every week, because a lot of aspiring attorney find him inspiring to work with

He wasn’t oblivious to his shiny reputation, but he’s trying his hardest to not let the compliments get to his head. Sometimes he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it

Was approached by one of the political party’s committee to run for local senate, but turned it down

basically he’s perfect if you like a man who’s never home for christmas

Hange!

A/N: Ok ok, I really wanna see Paleontologist!Hange because it has always been my fave dream job, but I want Hange to be out and about with people so here it is

Hange is the type to be incredibly good at one thing, that she will dedicate her whole life for that pursuit, but will be awfully oblivious to a whole lot of things (not intentional of course, they just have a very limited attention span) (they wouldn’t know who kanye west is or what tiktok is)

Like Erwin, they came from a middle-class family. While Erwin’s parents might have been teachers, accountants or other common profession, Hange came from a family of academician and researchers

Hange studied Human Geography at uni, but later found passion specifically in its relation to industrialization and urban development

Hange aims to advocate for a better living condition for workforce, and nearby inhabitants of industrialized city detroit would be a beautiful city if only they let hange designed it

Hange is a professor at university, where they also led a non-profit research think-thank that also serves as pressure group for better government policy.

The university that Hange teaches in, is also the uni where Erwin teaches in summer. They’re close-knitted colleagues as they share similar passion. Erwin relies on Hange a lot for some intellectual insights to help his cases  

Hange is relentless in their cause, you may find Hange everywhere! From street protest to a hearing in the government court. They are passionate and will do anything for the cause they believe in

Hange was once hired by the government as an independent consultant for a new housing project, but left because they grew to be frustrated by the government’s bureaucracy and their outward reluctance to follow Hange's recommendation

Hange spends a lot of time overseas, consulting and advocating development in newly industrialized countries

On Hange’s birthday, her fellow researchers surprised them with a ‘pampering day’ where they took them to an optometrist because Hange had been complaining about their eyesight for a YEAR that gave them a lot of migraines, but was always either too busy or too lazy to go

Hange never really considers themselves as working, because they enjoy their job very much. Hange likes to spend months observing a community, talking to people for hours, and trying their best in understanding their problem

Out of so many great qualities that Hange has as a researcher that meets different set of people everyday, prejudice or preconceived judgment is completely absent in Hange’s demeanor and perspective

Hange doesn’t get a lot of free-time, even if they do, they’d wander around the city to do a little observation. But when the weather’s bad and they’re stuck at home with their pet lizard, they would logged into Quora to answer random internet questions

They’re an avid writer for National Geographic, and one time Hange won a pitch to make a documentary about an industrial city project they were working on

After the docu-series got broadcasted, Hange gained a small but passionate and loyal fans on the internet. You could even find a subreddit dedicated for Hange’s works

for real I want to be Hange. I want to have that kind of passion in life

levi!

A/N: I spent a lot of times thinking about Levi’s job in modern!au. Because here’s the thing, either we adopt his unfortunate childhood into its modern!au equivalent, or let’s just recreate his whole upbringing. But I think his personality stems from a specific things he experienced during childhood, so let’s not dismiss that.

Levi came from a struggling working class family. I reckon his parents might have had worked multiple jobs to sustain their living expense. Unfortunately they both passed away when Levi was very little, and left little to no inheritance

Levi’s parents were not close to their extended family, so when they died, Levi was admitted to the system and had to brace several foster families who didn’t really pay attention to him

Little Levi had come to realize that life’s all about survival and so he had been able to fend on for himself since very young age, he never asked for things

His uncle, Kenny, finally won custody over Levi when he was in elementary. Kenny made money from small-scale racketeering here and there. Levi never asked what he did for living, as long as he got food to eat and tuition paid off

Kenny was emotionally absent, but he loved spending time with the oddly quiet little child, teaching him a lot of crafts, from carpentering to how to flay pig’s skin

Levi didn’t really care about getting into college, and thought that he’d probably end up working for his uncle, so he put his bare minimum throughout school, although he was really good with numbers, especially in math, accounting and finance

One time in high school, Levi’s teacher asked him to sign up for the olympiad team, Levi turned it down because he thought that was a rich kid thing

He didn’t even apply for college, and worked odd jobs after high school. Probably working as cashiers or assistant to retail shop’s owner for couple of years, enough for him to afford a cheap studio apartment on his own

One of his bosses came to acknowledge Levi’s talent, and trusted him to handle the company’s accounting

By sheer luck, the company hit it big, and Levi found himself running the day-to-day accounting of mid-sized business with over 300 employees

He made good money already without a college degree, but with a new-found confidence Levi applied for uni, where he chose to study accounting (of course)

Although he was confident with his skills, he understood he needed to widen his horizon and network -- thus uni

Levi was one of the oldest members of his cohort in uni, but graduated with highest distinction

After graduating, with his skills and experience, it wasn’t hard for Levi to score a job at top accounting firm

There, he discovered an interest for forensic accounting, where through audits, analysis and investigation, he basically finds out if a company is doing fraud and embezzlement or not

This is where he came to know and get acquainted with Erwin and Hange (yippie they’re together again)

The firm he works for was assigned to investigate the finances of a troublesome company that had been sued by its workers for a jeopardizing working condition. Erwin was on the case, and Levi helped him with evidences for legal proceeding.

By chance, Erwin introduced Levi to Hange. At first, Levi would find Hange annoying and overtly energized, but after learning the things they have done, Levi grew to appreciate Hange’s passion (and secretly wants to have more of his positive outlook)

Levi is fucking good his job. In short amount of time, he could get a really ideal position in the office. He was almost foolproof, finding even the tiniest bit of discrepancy in his audit. He’d get assigned to the big league case/project.

Although really good at his job, he’s not a social person, especially in his office. He couldn’t understand the lavish lifestyle that finance and banking people often lead. He will only show up to office party if it is really necessary for him to show up (usually to receive some kind of informal awards for, again, being so fucking good) 

He leads a no-bullshit attitude at the office, largely because of his background. He is a self-made man, and is not easy to impress by some young executives from posh school that talk bigger than they can chew

His cold, seemingly dismissive attitude gained him a reputation of being scary, when actually he is very considerate

One of the things he enjoys doing is to actually teach, he really likes when a new kid at the office come to him with none of that pretentious, big talk, and really asks for his guidance. He would love to teach you a thing or two

He would frequently check on his mentee, just to keep up with their development

And he doesn’t take credit too. When his mentee makes a milestone, he believes it’s 100% your work

If you’re his mentee, he probably doesn’t give a crap about your personal life, so don’t expect him to make small talk about that (and don’t ask him about his personal life either). But he really cares about your skill and career development

Same with Erwin, he leads a very ordinary lifestyle. He doesn’t go out often and would rather reading detective novel with his cat on the couch

He likes to spend Sunday at Uncle Kenny’s house, because he finds himself worried about the old man very often. They became close as Levi grew

Overall, Levi is a really kind and caring person if you know how not to push his button

[megthemewlingquim]

Rest

Summary: The holidays exhaust you, mentally and physically. When you go to get up for a yet another early shift at work, Loki keeps you in bed via cuddle lock.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: detailed descriptions of what retail workers go through when they have bad days at work taken from personal experience and the experience of the person for which I am writing this, crying, anxiety, feelings of loneliness, hurt/comfort.

A/N: This is a late Christmas present for @ragnarachael, to cheer her up after what has been (for her) a very hard and exhausting Christmas season. Anyone else who needs this can use it as a way to help themselves. I just wanted to cheer up a friend, so that she knows that she is in fact wonderful and good enough, even when bad days arise.

You wake up the morning after Christmas Day, and all you want to do is go back to sleep. The alarm clock reads 6:45 A.M, and it yells at you. It also blinds you, interrupting the darkness behind your eyelids with white light.

WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE—

You click the alarm off with a muffled groan. You struggle to move, your eyes betraying you and getting used to the darkness yet again. Your body betrays you as well, slowly getting used to the warmth the covers provide you. Sleep seems quite inviting. Those sleeps where you wake up earlier than you want, but then go back to sleep to get those last few hours in? Heavenly.

Also lovely when you have someone beside you to trap you in his arms as if to say, “Don’t go. It’s not time yet, and I still want you here.”

Sometimes, he says that literally.

Loki hates it when you have to get up early. He hates having the feeling of your body beside him be taken away by your job. Sometimes, your schedule is quite nice, with weekends off and shorter shifts on more days during the week to leave you with time for leisure. When it isn’t like that it’s horrible, with multiple days during the week but with longer shifts, and the weekends taken up as the cherry on top. In addition, sometimes you have to get up early. Very early. Like, being there when the store you work at opens to no one early. 

This time, it is a Saturday, and you have to get up early. The day after Christmas.

You had had a two-day break with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Before Christmas Eve you had worked a couple of days in a row.

The holidays completely exhaust you. Christmas especially is probably the worst season to be a retail worker. You’re stuck at the register for your entire shift, waiting for the unhappy customers who, unfortunately, take their confusion and dissatisfaction on you, the person who has no control over what you sell, what you have sold out of, and your prices. Of course, this happens year-round, but due to the hectic nature of the Christmas shopping season, the general unhappiness of the human race is revealed even more.

Every day, your feet ache from standing for hours on end, and every day you go in, you dread working with people who don’t care about you and working for people who don’t appreciate you. On very special days, you are practically yelled at, and then you have to go into the bathroom on your break to cry your way out of your anxiety.

The only good thing about working today will probably be how the Christmas season is drawing to a close. This means less busy days, less busy people, fewer moments with your managers that leave you shaky and terrified.

With that thought doing a little bit to motivate you, you move to get out of bed.

However, you’re held back. Loki’s arms are around you before you can tell, and their grip from behind is warm and comforting - not at all helping you to get out of bed.

“Stay,” is what he pleads. Rather than hearing a groggy voice filled with annoyance at your movements, you hear one that is softer, quieter, “Stay here, please.”

“Loki,” you protest, fighting sleepily against his grip, “I have - I have to get ready, you know that. I—”

“No, you don’t,” he says, waking up fully now. His eyes open and, upon seeing you fidgeting against him, he lets go of you only slightly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Why?” you ask, grateful that he has allowed you to turn around and look at him. You are not mad, just a little annoyed, but your tired brain is unable to let that show. “I’ll be home right afterward.”

He sighs, breathing in and out deeply through his nose. “Sweetheart, you’ve been working all week. You try so hard to mask what’s bothering you, but I know you, and I know how you are with these things. You’re exhausted, you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillows, and every day you have to go into that dreaded workplace, I see you as if you have a weight on your shoulders. I can tell, you dread working there with those people. You hate the schedules, you hate how they treat you. You hate the time spent away from home, from me.  So, why do you keep going when it’s in your better interest to stay?”

“Money pays the bills,” you say with a sigh of your own.

“Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m a prince, and I was once a king. We’re married. If you take me up on one of my many offers, you’ll never have to work again.”

“Stop that,” you say. “Please. I appreciate it, but I can’t depend on you for that. I’ll feel bad about it.”

“You shouldn’t,” Loki says. “I want to do that for you.”

“I am aware, but I don’t want that for either of us. I’d rather play a part in our living.” You move to get up again, but that’s when Loki moves as well, taking you in his arms for the second time.

“Loki!” you whisper angrily, “I have to—”

“No,” he says, a little more stern now. “You do not have to go in today.”

“Why is that?” you huff.

“Because you need to rest.”

“Loki, please let me go, I need to go. I’m supposed to be in the shower already, that’s why I woke up so early.”

“If you will not accept my offer for our future, at least accept this. Accept the rest you obviously need and deserve.”

You have a hard time being mad at him. Yes, you’re annoyed but mad? Never. You sigh. “Loki. I have to work.”

“Do you want to?” he asks.

“No,” you say without hesitation. “Of course I don’t. But I know I have to. I’ll get in trouble if I don’t go.”

“So there are a lot of reasons you need to go, and those are all valid reasons, but you’re not thinking of one thing: your health.”

“I feel fine.”

“Do not try to lie to me. You’re not ‘fine’, as much as you’d like to convince both of us that you are. As I said before, you’re exhausted, and you’re mentally drained whenever you go. You often come home in tears, but you practically fall asleep as soon as we get to bed, so I cannot comfort you. How I wish that you would see this… I want to help you, to give you strength and rest and love, all things you deserve.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

All this time, Loki’s voice continues to remain gentle. It’s nice to see that despite your persistence, he is not mad at you.

You squirm, trying to get out of his arms. At this point you might even have to call into work, saying you’ll be late. Sorry, my husband wouldn’t let me out of bed. What kind of excuse is that?

His grip holds. “Stay,” he whispers, and suddenly you feel tears rising in your eyes.

You haven’t realized, all this time during the holidays, that you’ve missed him. You’ve missed your husband so much, but seeing him has been hard. With your long hours and your exhaustion and your anxiety, it has been extremely difficult to see Loki and to spend any time with him. He doesn’t seem concerned about this himself, not too much, but he only seems concerned about you, and that makes you feel even worse.

But still, he misses you, too.

“No,” you whisper back.

“Stay...”

Your eyes shut and the tears pour down. “No!”

“Stay here. Stay here with me.”

You stop struggling, completely breaking down and crying fully into your pillow. He lets you go, realizing how you are. Then, with a small, sad sigh, he turns you around to face him. You’re practically limp, motionless as you sob.

“Sweetheart...” he croons, his voice low and soft and everything you’ve been missing. “Sweetheart, c’mere...”

You cling to him, relishing in his touch as he draws you to him for the first time in what seems like years. Your breathing is choppy, rough, and you cannot seem to get yourself calmed down. It’s as if everything you’ve shut out from your mind these past few weeks has been completely unlocked and has come crashing down onto you.

All the while, Loki keeps you close, shushing you gently and rubbing your back in circles. He calls you the prettiest words and praises you as you cry:

“I know, my love, I know. I’ll take care of you. Of everything.

“That’s it, sweetness, let it all out for me.

“This is just one simple thing you need: a good, long rest and some time with someone who loves you. Just rest here with me. I have you here, and I’m not letting go of you.”

As you cry, you notice your exhaustion taking hold of you again. Though it doesn’t seem possible, the covers seem more warm and even more inviting, and the darkness seems to make your eyes even more heavy.

Loki’s hands keep themselves on the back of your head and on your back, all warm and strong and still infinitely tender. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead, all the while continuing to comfort you in the best way he knows how.

“I love you. I love you so much and it breaks my heart to see you this way. You deserve so much... and you haven’t been accepting anything for yourself. You need to do that, beloved.

“But don’t... don’t worry. My love, I’m here. Here to help you. For now, let’s stay here. Stay here together. You need this, and you know it. I love you so much, my dearest. I love you with all my heart.”

[atlafan]

Costumes Galore - One Shot

a/n: this one was based off a few asked for my Halloween themed one shot requests. A lot of you wanted to something around a costume rental store, so I just made Harry the owner of that store! Feedback and reblogs are helpful, hope you enjoy! (not proofread) 

Warnings: pining, smut, friends to lovers

Words: 8.7K

Don’t ask him how, but Harry is the owner of a costume rental shop. He was a business major in university, and with some luck and patience, he was able to take over the very shop he worked in as a teenager. Halloween was his busiest season, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing well year round. He would give deals to the local schools and community theaters, and people who dressed as characters for parties would come see him. So, needless to say, business was steady. He often had big sales right after Halloween, and people would come in and clean him out.

Preparing for Halloween was his favorite thing to do. As soon as it was September 1st, he would transform his shop, pulling out tons of decorations, and putting out different bowls of candy. He liked making his customers happy, and everyone usually left satisfied. His changing rooms were comfortable and spotless, and he even set up backdrops in the lounge area for people to take Halloween pictures of their kids. People would come in to do that all year to save time and money. He was a smart business man. Harry did most of the work himself, he had a couple of teenagers that worked for him after school, but other than that it was all him. He didn’t mind, it gave him the control he needed over his shop, and he just didn’t have the money to pay someone for full-time help. He was only entering the fourth year of owning the place, after all.

Harry enjoyed the small traditions the downtown area had. Every year on October 30th, all of the shops would open their doors so kids could come trick or treat. It was a great way to give out pamphlets and coupons, while also getting to know the people that lived in the area. He loved kids, so when Harry was told about the tradition by his shop neighbor he got right on it, splurging for the king sized candy bars.

It was getting to be that time of year again, just about the end of September, his shop was looking good, and the Halloween crowds had slowly been trickling in and out. He was at the register when he heard the chime of the bell he keeps above the door to signal someone was coming in. It was a beautiful young woman, and she made Harry’s mouth run dry.

“Hello.” She says shyly as she walks up to the counter.

“Hi.” He swallows, and then smiles. “May I help you find something? Picking a costume up?” He moves to walk into the back door to see what reservations he had left for the day, but she stops him.

“No, um, I was wondering, actually, if you were hiring seasonally? I’m a grad student at the local university, and I could really use the extra cash before the holidays approach.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting such a blunt and honest answer. “Well, I usually only hire high school students…it’s a bit easier to pay them under the table.”

“I don’t mind! I have another job at the university I get a pay stub for and all that, I really just need the extra money for the season. If you’re not hiring it’s okay, I can check with the other shops, I just figured since this is a costume shop you’d be getting really busy soon.”

“You figured correctly.” He sighs. “Do you have much experience in retail?”

“Oh, sure, tons! I worked in a grocery store when I was a teenager, so I know how to work a register, and then in undergrad I worked at an Old Navy, so I know how to fold clothes properly and check inventory.” She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Here’s my resume, not the most professional way of showing it, but I brought it nonetheless.” She unfolds it and slides it on the counter towards him.

Harry takes it and furrows his brows as he reads it over. Seems like she was in her first year of grad school, but had graduated from her undergrad a couple of years ago. Her undergraduate degree was in social work, and it looks like she had been working in an office for a couple of years. Now she was going for a graduate degree in school counseling. She had plenty of experience, that wasn’t his worry, he just wasn’t sure he would be able to properly compensate her.

“My busiest hours during the season tend to be between 3 and 7PM, and then I’m swamped on Saturdays. How many hours a week do you think you could work?”

Her features soften as she perks up from his question.

“I’m honestly free by four most days, and Saturdays are no problem. Well, as long as I don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn.” She chuckles. “I’m no good early in the morning. I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday if that works for you?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you more than ten dollars an hour, and you’d need to keep track of things on your own. I expect the honor system too, no trying to stiff me.”

“That’s perfect!” She was doing the math in her head. “Do you close right at seven? Would I stay after to close up?”

“Probably would need you here until eight. Saturday I’m open eleven to five, would need you here ten to six for that.”

She furrows her brows as she thinks about it. That would roughly come to about twenty hours a week, which was exactly what she was looking for. Then that would be $200 extra in her pocket a week, or $400 if he decides to pay her bi-weekly, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a dime of it coming out for taxes.

“Well, uh…”, she squints at his nametag, “Harry, I think we have a deal.” She smiles and extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it gently and smiles at her. “When can I start?”

“Why don’t you come in this Saturday around 9:30? I can go over everything with you without have to rush. There’s a little kitchen in the back and all that so feel free to leave food here if you feel like packing a lunch or snacks. I also keep a lot of snacks around.”

“Works for me.” She shrugs. “If you’re here until eight most days, what time do you usually open?”

“Around ten, I get here for nine.”

“Those are long days.”

“I don’t mind it, there’s always a lot to do.” It’s quiet between them for a moment.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. See you Saturday!” She beams.

“Wait, uh, the door will be locked when you get here, and I can’t just give you a key, barely know you.” He chuckles. “But here.” He grabs a business card and writes his cell phone number on it. “Just text me when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”

“Perfect.” She looks at the card. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”

“Stick with Harry, we don’t need to be so formal.”

“Alright, thanks, Harry.”

Out the door she goes feeling way better than when she walked in. He wondered how close in age they might be, she had to be around the same age as him, if not only a year or so younger. It would be nice working with someone he could actually talk to. He likes the teenagers, but sometimes he just had no idea what they were talking about.

//

Saturday morning Y/N isn’t sure what to wear. Harry hadn’t said anything about a uniform, so she decides on a pair of khakis and a black polo to at least look the part of a retail worker. She tucks the shirt in to look professional, and to make sure she looked cute. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, and out the door she goes. She grabs a coffee from the shop across from Harry’s, and takes out her phone to text him.

Y/N: Good morning, Harry! It’s Y/N, I’m outside the shop 😊

She sips her warm drink as she waits for him to appear in the windows. She smiles as she sees him walking up, and he opens the door for her.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiles, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. It makes her blush.

“Morning.” She nods as she walks in. “Oh…I should have asked you if you wanted a coffee.” She frowns at herself. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, had mine a little while ago. I should’ve asked you if you wanted anything.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways…”, he looks her up and down, “don’t feel like you need to dress so…well, I should have texted you about attire. Um, you can wear pretty much whatever you want. I just ask if you wear jeans that they’re not ripped, and if you wear leggings make sure you’re bum is covered. You never know what kind of old creeps might be coming in here to steal glances.” She nods at him and follows him behind the register and into the back room. “So this is where I keep reserved costumes. People will call ahead sometimes with their measurements and what they need.” He opens another door that leads into a breakroom. It was small kitchen with a slop sink, decent sized fridge, microwave, blender, toaster, and hot plate on the counters.

“I think you have every appliance known to man.” She laughs.

“Well, I can’t exactly have an oven in here, so I stalked up on other things. There’s some small pots if you feel like having pasta, that’s why I have the hot plate, you just need to remember to unplug it when you’re done. Turns out a lot of clothes are flammable, go figure.” His jokes makes her giggle, and he likes the sound of it. “And then through this door is the office. I have some lockers in here so you can hang your coat up, or put a bag away. Bring a lock if you feel like it, but I promise not to steal your things if you promise not to steal mine.”

“Promise.” She nods. “Where are the bathrooms?”

“In the back of the store along with the dressing rooms. We’ll get there in a moment. Every night I have a cleaning crew come in to make sure everything is spick and span, but accidents happen during the day sometimes so it’s on us to clean that up when it occurs.”

“No problem there. I used to clean the bathrooms at the grocery store all the time. Not my favorite thing to do, but I’m no stranger to it.”

He nods and then leads her back out to the register. He explains how he bookkeeps, and how important it is to save every receipt. Then he takes out what looks like a magazine that explains all of the types of costumes and accessories he keeps. He essentially had the shop on a grid system so everything was easy to find. She would need to learn this so she could properly help the customers. Then he leads her to the back of the store, shows her the dressings rooms and bathrooms, and then to the very back room where all of the storage was.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself. “You could get lost in here.” She swallows.

“You shouldn’t need to come back here too much. I usually have what people need out front, but sometimes you may need to snag some things from here. Mostly shoes.” He takes her back into the main area and into the office so they can sit. “I have cameras just about everywhere. Kids can sometimes pocket the costume jewelry. I have security codes for the doors as well, but I’ll always be here before you, so you won’t ever have to open, or close for that matter.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your class schedule like?”

“I have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I go to a middle school for my practicum hours. I’m hoping to become an adjustment counselor, you know, helping students with more serious issues.”

“At the middle school level no less, wow.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiles.

“You said you had a job at the university too, how do you have the time for that?”

“Oh, I get a stipend as a TA.” She shrugs. “The classes I actually take are online, so I have plenty of time. This is just for the season anyways, so it’s fine.”

“Right.” He opens his desk drawer and slides a nametag towards her. “There you are, no you’re a proper employee.”

“Thank you.” She takes it and puts it on, her tongue slightly peeking out as she does so. “So, how do I get paid? Are you gonna sneak me an envelope every week?” She chuckles.

“That’s the plan, yeah. The pay period will be like Saturday to Saturday, so I’ll pay you on Fridays, sound good?”

“Sounds great! Thank you again. I’ve been budgeting just fine and making things work, but things add up during the holidays: dinners, gifts, parties, all that stuff, and I just wanted to have some extra cushion.”

“I think that’s really smart. It’s nice to see you don’t mind working hard.”

“How did you come to own a costume shop?”

“Worked here as a teenager, so after uni the old man was selling it and he took a chance on me. Been running it for four years now.”

“Shit, you’re really young to be doing all of this.” She looks at him wide eyed. “I still have to call my mom to ask her if I should separate my delicates from the rest of my wash, and here you are…owning and running a business.”  

Harry swallows, and nods at her.

“Um, let me show you how the register works, and then we can open up.”

They get up and go back out front. He shows her the prices for everything that he keeps on a laminated sheet of paper. She listens to him intently, nodding along and taking mental notes.

//

It was a little slow in the beginning, so Harry has Y/N put away some costumes that people left in the dressing rooms. A small rush comes in right at noon, and they work together to get everyone settled.

“No, I wanna be Batman!” Y/N hears a small girl whale out at her father.

“But you’d look so pretty as Cinderella, honey.” He pleads with his daughter.

“Pardon me.” Y/N says. “We have tons of Batman costumes in girls sizes.” She smiles.

“You do?” He asks her.

“Sure! Lots of girls like dressing up like super heroes, and their costumes cover up a lot more, so it’s much more practical. She’ll stay warm and won’t trip over a long dress.” She leads them over to the area. “And she’ll still look plenty cute.”

“Alright.” He sighs with defeat. “Batman it is.”

“Yay!” The little girl exclaims as she snatches a costume off the rack.

Y/N looks over and sees that Harry was watching the interaction. He gives her a thumbs up, and goes back to the register. They take their lunch breaks at different times, and when the end of the day comes she lingers while he checks everything over at his desk.

“You can go, Y/N. Good first day.”

“I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, but I walked here because I live close by, but it’s raining…”

“Oh…you need a ride?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Her face flushes. “I can order an uber if you-“

“I don’t mind.” He gives her a soft smile. “Sit on the couch if you like, I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”

She nods and does as he says. She scrolls through her apps on her phone while she waits for him. She hears him sigh, and he knuckles at his eyes before standing up.

“Alright, let’s go. Where do you live?”

“Just over at The Ledges.”

“No shit? I live there too.”

“Seriously?!” She stands. “Okay, now I don’t feel bad.” She chuckles.

“No need to feel bad regardless.” He puts his coat on, grabs his keys, and they head out. He double checks that the doors are locked, and they make their way to his car. He even opens the door for her. “What building are you in?”

“Five, you?”

“Three. Got a roommate or anything?”

“Yeah, I live with a girl in the same program as me. She’s nice enough, we’re still getting to know each other, but we like a lot of the same movies and music, so it’s been easy to hang out when we have time. What about you?” She tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Got a roommate?”

“Nope.” He says proudly. “Can finally afford to live on my own, which has been nice.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely, though?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “Most of my time is spent at the shop talking to people all day, so I don’t really mind the quiet once I’m home.”

“Not even a pet to keep you company?”

“I’ve just learned to take care of myself properly, I don’t think I’m quite ready to keep another thing alive.” She laughs at that and it makes him smile.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” He pulls up to her building once he’s turned into the complex. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it. I definitely would have caught a cold if I walked in that rain.”

“Anytime, seriously, don’t be afraid to ask.”

She nods and gets out. He makes sure she’s inside before making the turn to his own building.

//

Harry drove Y/N home most evenings. Her help was the best he’s had in a long time, maybe he could afford to hire her on like a regular employee…only if she wanted. She was personable with the customers, and he noticed she’d pick an accessory to wear during all of her shifts to get into the Halloween spirit. One day it was a tiara and a sash, another day it was cat ears, and another it was devil’s horns. Harry would mostly wear graphic tees with old movie posters on them. She thought it was cute. Y/N noticed how well Harry was with the customers too. The kids adored him, so it seemed.

It really didn’t take much for Y/N to develop a crush on Harry. From the moment she walked into his shop she thought he was handsome, but as she got to know him she realized his personality was just her type. She tried to be sneaky decipher whether he was seeing someone or not. There were no pictures of girls on his desk, other than a family photo of him, his mother, and sister. Harry wore a lot of rings, but nothing that screamed he was in a relationship or married. Surely he would mentioned it by now if he was, right? She even got a glimpse at his lock screen on his phone, and all it was, was a picture of a sunflower.

“Just ask him out, Y/N.” Her roommate, Ronnie, says to her one evening over wine and popcorn as they watch The Addams Family. “What do you have to lose?”

“My job.”

“You’re a seasonal employee. As soon as Halloween hits, you’re done there.”

“Not true, he asked me to stay through November. He has sales throughout November so people can buy costumes at a discount. Also, a ton of people come to get fitted for Santa costumes, so I’ll be there a bit longer than anticipated.” She takes a sip from her glass. “I think that if he liked me he would have made a move.”

“He could be thinking the exact same thing about you! And from what you’ve told me, he seems either too shy or too respectful to do something like that. I mean, you work for him, he wouldn’t want you to think he was harassing you.”

“Hm, I never thought of it like that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe…maybe I could ask him to dinner one night after work. That wouldn’t be totally weird, would it? He drives me home anyways…”

“I think that’s a great idea. Totally casual, off the cuff.”

“Exactly, like, smooth…cool.” She takes a bite of some popcorn. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Y/N, you wrangle middle school kids for half the week, asking a guy out should be a cakewalk.”

//

Saturday Y/N decides to wear a sweater dress over some leggings, and goes with a small witch’s hat that’s on a headband to add some flare to her look. Harry had given her a key since he trusted her, so she lets herself in. She goes right to the back to go say hello. Harry was in the kitchen finishing up his coffee.

“Morning.” He says to her.

“Morning.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, do you have plans tonight, like, after work?”

He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, taking one final sip of his coffee before rinsing his mug in the sink.

“Don’t think so, why?” He almost wished he had made something up. It was sort of lame to not have plans on a Saturday night, wasn’t it?

“Well, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner…” His eyes grow wide at her, so she back-peddles. “You know, as a thank you for being so great to me, and driving me home and stuff.”

“You…you don’t have to thank me for anything, Y/N. You’ve been the best temp I’ve ever hired.” He watches as she looks down at her feet. “But, um, dinner sounds good either way.”

“Really?” She perks up as she makes eye contact once again.

“Yeah, where were you thinking?”

“Nowhere special…do you like Mexican? We could go to Chipotle…” It sounded awful leaving her lips, but it was all she could really afford at the moment.

“I love it there, that sounds good.”

“Great.” She smiles and walks over to the coffee maker to pour herself some. She slips around him to get the creamer out of the fridge. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Harry was distracted all day. Y/N rarely wore dresses to work. Had she dressed up in hopes they’d be going out together later that evening. He looks down at himself, and he’s thankful he decided on a black jumper. Was this a date, or was this to be a casual dinner between two people who work together? He really couldn’t be sure. He thought Y/N was insanely attractive, she was lovely inside and out, but he was her boss so that made things a little…sticky for him. She was around the same age as him, so it wouldn’t be weird if they went out, and she was the one to initiate dinner. So it’s not like he was using any sort of position of power over her.

Around lunch time a boy that works at the coffee shop from across the street comes in. Harry greets him, and he says he’s looking for Y/N.

“She’s in the back on her break.” Harry says. “Do you want me to get her?”

“That’d be great.” The boy smiles.

“Hey, Y/N? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” She swallows the bite of veggie wrap and stands up to see who it is. “Hey, Charlie.” She smiles.

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “I…I snagged you some of those chocolate chip cookie squares you like so much.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She comes from around the counter to hug him. “That is so sweet, thank you.”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he tries not to pay attention. He was looking over receipts at the register, but he couldn’t help but be a little nosey.

“No problem.” He hands her the small bag. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but would you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to ask, but I actually already have dinner plans tonight, so I can’t.” She gives him a soft smile.

“Alright, another time, maybe?”

“Sure.” She nods, and then he makes his way out. She goes back behind the counter. “Harry, you have to try one of these, they’re so good, nice and chewy. I get them all the time.”

“Clearly.” He reaches into the bag to take one out. “You know, if you wanted to go out with him…you could have…”

“Why would I break our date that I literally just asked you to this morning to go out with someone else?” Ah, so it was a date, he thinks to himself as he bites off a piece of the cookie. “Good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Charlie’s nice enough, but I don’t like him like that.”

Harry leaves the conversation as that when she goes back to finish her lunch. Did she like him like that? Was that it? Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

//

The ride to Chipotle is comfortably quiet, the radio could be heard just over the rumble of the streets. Y/N bumps Harry with her hip when he tries to pay for their food, shoving her card into the chip insert. She told him to go grab a table in a snappy way that made him smirk, but he listened to her regardless. He finds a quieter table for two and sets their things down. She comes over with some napkins and sits down.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me.” He says.

“Try again.”

“Thank you.” He sighs.

“Much better.” She smirks and dives into her burrito bowl. “I see you went with the tacos, those are my second favorite.”

“I love tacos, obsessed with them really. I must make them for dinner twice a week.”

“Really?” She asks with a giggle.

“Only because I usually have leftovers. I try to meal prep and stuff like that.”

“Same here! Every Sunday I go to the market, and cook up a storm when I get back. Then it’s all done, and you don’t have to worry.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and takes a bite of his food. It was a little messy, but she didn’t seem to mind. “So, what made you wanna grab a bite tonight?”

She nearly chokes on her food, and she takes a sip of her water.

“Um…I…well…” She stops talking and just looks at him. “I just thought it might be nice to do something outside of work for a change. It’s nice sharing a meal with someone, you know?”

He nods at her and takes another bite of his food. He asks her questions about school, and how things were going balancing working at a middle school and being a TA. She explains that she’s very organized, so she hasn’t been terribly stressed. She was looking forward to her school’s winter break so she could just work at the middle school and not teach at the same time. They had lost track of time, sitting there for over an hour talking. He drives her to her building, and she lingers in his car for a moment.

“That was fun.” She says to him.

“Yeah…thanks again for paying.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Do…do you have plans on Halloween?”

“Aren’t we doing that trick or treat thing at the shop?”

“That’s the evening before.”

“Oh, right! Here I am telling you I’m organized and I can’t get my days straight.” She takes her phone out to look at her calendar. “I think Ronnie and I were planning to put a bowl of candy out in the hallway and watch movies…why?”

“Well, I have a party to go to…my mate Niall throws a Halloween party every year…would you like to come with me?”

Her eyes widen, and he feels like he’s made a mistake. Had he misinterpreted everything?

“That’s only a week away, where on earth am I going to get a costume on such short notice?” She looks at him seriously, and then she laughs.

“Good fucking thing I own a costume shop, or you’d be shit out of luck.” He laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and leans over the console to give him a peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.” She gets out of the car, tummy full of butterflies, and goes inside her building.

//

Ronnie was thrilled for Y/N’s upcoming date, and didn’t mind her breaking her roommate date at all. When Monday rolls around, Y/N can’t wait to see Harry. He was running around when she got in, and he basically yelled at her to get busy. He texted her Sunday night to warn her that the week of Halloween was usually wild with last minute costume buyers. The two of them run around, and don’t close up until nearly nine.

“I can come in tomorrow and Thursday if you need me to.” She tells him as they walk to his car.

“I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

“I won’t be! I’ll be stressed knowing you’re doing all of that alone. Please, you don’t even need to pay me.”

“Y/N.” He chuckles as he drives her home. “Don’t be silly, I’ll pay you. You can come in if you need the extra hours.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Have you already decided on your costume?”

“I think while we’re at the store it would be fun to dress up as a witches?”

“Definitely, and for the party?”

“You…you wanna dress as a pair for that?”

“Well, we’re going as a pair, so I thought that would be fun…but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.” He pulls up to her building and he turns to face her. “Niall’s dressing like Barney from the Flintstone’s and his girlfriend is gonna dress up like Betty, so I was wondering how you’d feel if we dressed like Fred and Wilma…”

“Do you have those costumes at the shop?”

“Yeah, in the back.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Really? Not too cliché?”

“Not at all, I think it could be fun.”

“Great, I can pull everything out for you tomorrow, and you can tell me how it all fits.”

//

It was a busy week, but worth it to see all of the little kids come by the shop. Y/N and Harry made quite the pair of witches. He had invited her back to his place for a movie after everything was all said and done. Tomorrow would be another busy day with the really last minute people, but he wasn’t worried about it.

“Right, so, make yourself at home. I’m just gonna get us some snacks. Can I get you anything to drink?” He says to her as he leads her inside his flat. “I’ve got water, soda, seltzer water…”

“Anything with alcohol in it?” She chuckles. “Long week, you know?”

“Oh, sure! I’ve got these pumpkin ciders you might like, they’re really good.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, go sit.” He smiles, and she goes to make herself comfortable on his couch.

Her eyes scan over his living area, it was nicely decorated. He had some decals in the windows for Halloween, little black cats and pumpkins, it was cute. He comes in shortly with some cheese and crackers, and a couple of ciders.

“I threw some pizza rolls into the oven, thought this could hold us over for now.” He says as he sits.

“Good thinking, thank you. This is a nice place, just a one bedroom?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “I like living here a lot, it’s the perfect location if I need to get to the shop quick.” They each take a sip of the cider as he grabs the TV remote. “You like it?”

“Yeah! It’s delicious. So, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Beetlejoice?”

“It’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Thank god.” He says with relief. “It’s one of my favorites too. I don’t love super scary movies, but ones like these are fun.”

“I’m the same way. I don’t get that thrill other people do from being scared.”

He queues up the movie and presses play. She takes her sneakers off so she can sit with her feet under her, and he likes that she’s able to get so comfortable. He hears the ding from his oven timer and goes to retrieve the pizza rolls.

“They’re really hot, gotta let them sit. I don’t want you to bun yourself.” He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “Here, you look cold.” She smiles and takes the blanket from him, draping it over her legs. “Let me know when you want a refill too.”

“I will, thank you, Harry.”

He sits back on the couch and pops a cracker into his mouth. This was normal behavior him. He often doted on her in the shop. If she fell asleep at the table during her lunch break she’d miraculously wake up on the couch in the office, or with a blanket draped over her shoulders and the lights dimmed. He knew how tired she had to be, working so much. She didn’t mind it one bit. She was used to taking care of herself, it was sort of nice to let someone else take a turn.

“We can share if you want.” She speaks up as she sees him cross his arms over his body. “If you’re cold too.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s your blanket.” She chuckles, and places some of it over his legs. “There, all cozy.”

They devour the pizza rolls, and drink three cider’s each during the movie. They laugh at the funny parts, and are quiet during the more serious parts. She looks away a couple of times, and even squeezes his hand during one of the scarier scenes. They didn’t touch other than that, though. He didn’t want to make things awkward before the party.

“Oh, I love this part at the end with the football team.” She giggles and finishes her last drink. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.” She turns her body to look at him.

“Me too.” He stands up, and starts cleaning everything up. She follows him into the kitchen with the empty cans. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” She tosses them in the recycling bin he has next to the trash.

“I can walk you home if you want.”

“That’s okay, I think I can make it.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry.”

“Will you…at least text me when you get back?”

“Sure.” She nods and gets her shoes and jacket on. He walks her to his door with his hands in his pockets.

“I can pick you up before work tomorrow if you like.”

“That I’ll definitely take you up on. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow, I think.” She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek quickly. “Thanks for a nice night.”

“Bye.”

He sighs as she leaves, and sighs heavier as she makes her way out of the building. She gets inside her own flat and tells Ronnie everything.

“Shit! I forgot to text him!”

Y/N: so sorry, I got in like 10 min ago

Harry: no worries, glad you got in safe

Y/N: thanks again for a really nice night…you’re fun to watch movies with

Harry: you’re welcome, and so are you

“God, why does he have to be so sweet?”

“So, he really didn’t make any moves?”

“No.” She sighs. “We shared a blanket, but that was about it, and I was too nervous to do more than to touch his hand a couple of times.” She groans and sits down on the couch with a huff. “Like…are we dating? Just friends? I’d love to know.”

“You should ask him.”

“You can’t just ask that sort of thing!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s awkward. Ugh, I just had to go work for someone like him. Why couldn’t it have been some old lady?”

//

The work day goes by like normal. Y/N uses ladies room to get into her Wilma costume. Harry had given her an orange wig for the hair, and she got it up into a decent enough bun. The dress was really cute on her figure, and she felt good about it. She’d be cold, but only for the couple of minutes she’d be outside. Harry was waiting for her in the main area with his Fred costume. He was not wearing a wig.

“I’m pretty sure Fred Flinstone has black hair.” She runs a hand through his curls and his face flushes. “But I suppose this will do.”

“You look great, Y/N.”

“You think so?” She does an innocent twirl. “Not too skimpy?”

“Not at all.” He smiles.

They drive to Niall’s, and Y/N is welcome with open arms from the second they walk in. Everyone at the party had great costumes, and she was happy her and Harry went all out. There was music playing, plenty of snacks and drinks, and even a few games. People were playing beer-pong in the kitchen, others were playing some card games. There were some people dancing in the living area. Y/N wondered if some other grad students were mixed into the bunch.

“Want something to drink?” Harry asks her and she nods yes. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the drink cart in the kitchen. He looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“Vodka tonic, please.”

“Coming right up.” He makes two drinks, and hands her one. “Let me know if It’s too strong.”

“Mm.” She takes a sip. “It’s perfect.”

Much to her surprise, Harry keeps an arm around her shoulders for most of the night as they mingled with his friends. It was loose around her, but he was making it pretty clear to anyone else looking at them that she was spoken for. They didn’t drink too much, enough to have a healthy buzz, but not so much that Harry wouldn’t be able to drive later.

“Are you having fun?” He says into her ear. She looks up at him and nods yes. He smiles and goes back to the conversation he was having with Niall.

Y/N liked Harry’s friends. They were all really nice, and did their best to include her in the chit chat. It was a fun night. A little after midnight they decide to call it quits, and head out. Y/N takes the wig off and shakes her hair out the second they’re in the car.

“Man, that thing was itchy.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him. “What?” He was already looking at her.

“You’re…you’re just so…” He reaches for her and cups her cheeks in his large hands. They were barely an inch apart, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Please.” She nods slightly, and then he does it.

His lips slot between hers, and her eyes flutter closed. His lips were soft, and he tasted like the mint from the gum he was chewing. Her hands move to the collar of his costume and she tugs him closer to her. He pulls away just as she was opening her mouth a little more, her lips moving towards him. His forehead presses to her.

“Fuck, I…I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into the shop, but-“

“Do you wanna go back to my place?”

He nods yes, and throws the car in drive, speeding to their complex. His hand rests on her thigh, squeezing it occasionally, reminding her that he was there and this was happening. He parks in one of the free spaces in front of her building, and gets out of the car. He jogs around the other side and opens her door for her. The air was cold, but the heat radiating between the two of them was scorching. He helps her out of the car, and his lips are on hers again. They shuffle to the main entrance, and she keys in. He’s about to push her up against the wall, but she pushes on his chest.

“Cameras.” She says against his lips, and she tugs him down the hall, and to the elevator.

He keeps his hands to himself while in the elevator, unsure of more cameras, but when she gets them to her door he puts his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her.

“Is Ronnie home?” He whispers in her ear and goosebumps raise on her skin.

“N-no, she decided to visit some friends for the weekend.”

She keys into the apartment, and she just barely gets the door closed when she’s being pushed up against the wall. If she had the strength to pick him up and carry him to her room she would, but she can’t, so she just tugs on him to move further into the flat. His lips felt so good on hers, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, causing him to groan against her. She finally gets him in her room, and she pushes him back onto her bed. She straddles him immediately, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks as he looks up at her. “It’s not too fast?”

“Consider it third date sex, I’m good with it if you are.” She reaches for the hem of her dress and lifts it off herself, revealing a white lace set of underwear. His hands slide up and down her sides.

“Third date, huh?” He smirks.

She leans down to kiss him.

“Chipotle.” Her teeth tug at his bottom lip and she lets it snap back. “The movie last night.” She sucks a mark into his neck, just under his earlobe. “And tonight.” She sits back up. “So, no, I don’t think this is too fast, do you?”

“No.”

He flips her over onto her back, and she giggles as he works to get his costume off. He hovers over her, and kisses down her neck. He mouths over her covered nipples and sucks on her through the fabric. Her hips buck up towards him as he continues working his way down her body. Her heart was about ready to beat out of her chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks just as his lips go right below her belly button.

“Uh…I was going to take your underwear off, if that’s alright.”

“And then what?”

“I’d love to have a taste of you, if you let me.”

“You really wanna do that? It…it doesn’t gross you out?”

“What’s gross about it?” He smirks. “This right here?” He cups her mound and she whimpers. “One of the greatest wonders of the world. So, can I?”

“Yes.”

He hooks his fingers into her panties, and he tugs them down her legs. He kisses on her hips as he opens her legs. He sucks on each of her lips before licking up her slit. He swirls his tongue around her clit, which was positively throbbing for him. He wraps her lips around the small bud and sucks. Her mouth falls open and her hands fly to his hair.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans.

He moans against her, and it just makes her pool between her legs even more him. He was really enjoying this, which was making her enjoy it even more than usual. It was usually a force with guys her age, but Harry had no problem with it. If she didn’t want to suck his dick before, she definitely did now.

Harry removes his mouth from, only for a moment, to suck his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. He slides them through her folds, and then carefully slips them inside her center. She gasps from the stretch at first, and then she feels like she’s melting into the bed. His mouth goes back to her clit while his fingers curl up inside her to pet against her front wall. Her hips start moving along with the rhythm of his fingers, chasing her release.

“Shit, Harry, ngh.” She was panting now.

Her legs move over his shoulders and her heels dig into his back. He groans against her as she falls apart underneath him. He works her through it, giving her clit slow licks as he pulls his fingers from her. He sucks his fingers into his mouth. They make eye contact, briefly, before she’s pinning him down, and she’s yanking his boxers off. Her eyes widen when she sees his length slap back against his lower tummy. She pecks his lips before getting situated between his legs.

Y/N licks up the underside of his hard length, and his head falls back. Her mouth wraps around his tip and she suckles on it before popping off. She spits into her hand and wraps it around him to pump him slowly. She cradles his balls and moves to suck and lick gently on them.

“Oh, dear god.” He moans. “Y/N, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Do you wanna just fuck now? Wanna fuck me, Harry?” She pouts at him.

He was surprised by her. He nods at her, and she smirks at him. She gets up and takes her bra off while she walks into her bathroom to grab a condom. She tosses it to him as she knees back onto the bed. He rips it open and rolls it on, and he gets back on top of her. He rolls the head of his cock between her folds and around her clit before pushing inside her.

“Still sure? I can stop.”

“No, please, I want it, Harry.”

He smiles and continues to push inside her. She grits her teeth at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in he gives her a moment before slowly pulling back out. He sinks back inside her, and that’s when it starts to feel good. She was nice and tight around him, not that he really cared. He knew it would feel good because he liked her so much. He did wonder, though, when the last time someone had the privilege to stretch her out like this.

“You feel so fucking good.” He says and leans down to suck on her bottom lip. His hands move to knead her breasts, and she moans.

She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She just want him to smother her. She moves her hips up to rock along with his, and she gasps when she feels him hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.”

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Fuck, Harry, yeah, keep going.”

He had per panting again, and her nails were scratching down his back. It felt good, though, to feel her just about breaking his skin because he’s making her feel so good. Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone again, and he presses hard inside her so she can really feel it. She thought maybe he had come too since he was pulling out, but he grips her hips and flips her onto her stomach. He pulls her back, spreads her apart, and pushes back inside her.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“This okay?” He grunts.

“More than okay, fuck.” She pushes back against him and he nearly chuckles.

Quick, deep strokes were entering her. Her bed was shaking, and her cheeks were straight up getting clapped. It was such a breath of fresh air to be with man who knew what to do with it. He grips the back of her neck to steady himself as his thrusts get sloppy.

“I’m gonna come.” He groans. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ He moans out as he spills into the condom.

He was so vocal, and she really liked that. He pulls out of her slowly, and takes the condom off.

“Trash is over there.” She breathes and points towards her desk. He nods and gets up to dispose of it. She gets up and waddles into her bathroom to use her toilet. When she comes back out he’s getting his boxers back on. “You, um, don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Normally I’d stay, but…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sort of embarrassing to walk back tomorrow morning as Fred Flinstone.” He smirks.

“Right.” She nods as she throws on a bed shirt, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“But I could stay a little longer, lay with you a bit.”

“I don’t want you to be upset if you fall asleep.”

“I won’t be…suppose it would be funny.” He comes over to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead before going into her bathroom.

He gets into bed with once he’s done, and she snuggles up to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her fingers trace around his various tattoos. He rubs her back, and it lulls her to sleep.

//

The next morning she wakes up to an empty bed. Where he was laying wasn’t even warm so he must have left soon after she fell asleep. She sighs and takes a shower, washing her night away. She checks her phone, and smiles, all worry leaving her body.

Harry: slipped out after you fell asleep, hope you don’t think I’m one of those guys…I had a lot of fun, talk at work Monday?

Y/N: definitely don’t think you’re one of those guys…now lol yeah, let’s talk Monday

She sighs and sits at her desk to get some grading done. Or she was hopeful to get work done. The ache between her legs was proving to be pretty distracting.

//

Y/N takes a deep breath before walking into the shop Monday afternoon. There were plenty of customers buying discounted costumes, so Harry’s only able to smile at her as she slips into the backroom to hang her coat up.

“I guess…do you think he’ll still like this in a year?” The woman asks Harry.

“I’m not gonna like to you, he easily couldn’t, but if I know kids, they like to have options. If he ends up having a couple of parties to go to, he won’t want to wear the same costume to each event.”

“That’s true…alright, you’ve sold me, Harry.”

“Excellent! I’ll you ring you up.”

Y/N brushes behind Harry as he works the register. The whole evening was busy, so when he’s finally able to put the closed sign up, he’s relieved to see her sitting standing in the office.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She blushes.

His hands grip her hips and he effortlessly lifts her up onto the desk. He presses his forehead to hers.

“Y/N, I know we’ve become close, but I’ve been feeling conflicted because I’m also your boss, and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of the situation.”

“Hey.” She says, cupping his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “We weren’t even at work…everything we’ve done has been outside of this place. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you regret the other night?”

“No, not at all.” His hands rest on her thighs as he stands between her legs. He tucks some hair behind her ear. “I just don’t really know what to do here.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be working here much longer, just until the end of November, right?”

“Right.”

“So…do you wanna, like, keep dating? Going out and stuff?”

“I’d really like that. I want us to keep getting to know each other. I wish I had stayed the whole night the other night. I felt like such a dick for leaving.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” She smiles and then bites her bottom lip. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to sleepover.”

“I will?” He smiles.

She nods and he leans in to kiss her. Harry was a simple guy who owned a costume shop, and thanks to the girl in grad school he hired for the season, he made it through Halloween yet again. This time, instead of celebrating his profits with Niall down at the pub, he was kissing the very same girl that took his breath away when she walked in.

[moonchildstyles]

chiaroscuro

chiaroscuro part one: y/n needed a job, but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger

wordcount: 10.5k+

—————

(Y/N) was broke. Like, really fucking broke.

Rationally, she knew that life as a fresh college graduate wasn't going to immediately fall into place, but she thought—maybe—the new credentials might actually help. But she's three months out, and no one has bothered to even give her a call back about any applications she's sent out and she's so broke. Just to add to the stress, her roommate—Charlotte—had broke the news to her the other day that she was planning on moving in with her boyfriend. (Y/N) could barely afford the apartment with the double income, but she knew she definitely couldn't afford it now. She does admit it was kind of dumb to have prematurely quit her job the weekend after graduation, but she was so excited to start her life, really start it. Now, with less than a hundred dollars in her bank account, a flat she was fully responsible for, and no job offers, she's panicking. She spent all her time on indeed and other sites trying to find any kind of listing she qualified for and applying to anything she might even have the slightest shot at.

It wasn't until her fifth day in a row looking nonstop, during the late night hours (early morning at this point) did she find a listing that she actually got excited for. It definitely wasn't her field, but the benefits were everything she was looking for. The listing called for a "Housekeeper/Sitter For Sprawling Manor". It seemed easy enough, with pretty good pay for the work, and it was a live-in position so she wouldn't have to worry about rent. The owner of the manor was rarely ever home, as the listing quoted, so it would be like being paid to live alone. It also helped that whoever wrote the listing seemed to have high energy, an affinity towards exclamation points, and pointed out more than once that no experience was needed just "enthusiasm and the willingness to learn!!"

Googling the manor—Styles Manor—brought up artistic shots of a truly sprawling mansion. The building separated into two wings, converging in the center with a rounded bulb making the roof. It was beautiful, and definitely not the kind of Gothic, decrepit castle she was expecting when reading through of the owner's "eccentric taste" in decor. With no hesitation, she filled out the automated application and attached her resume before pressing submit. She sent out all the good vibes and prayers and anything that could possibly manifest for her to get this job. Then, she proceeded to fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

She didn't even realize how long her "nap" was until she woke up at 3:30 in the afternoon from the buzzing of her phone. She didn't bother to look at the caller ID, tapping the green button and rolling over before pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she said groggily into the receiver. She fought to keep her eyes open as they kept sliding shut from exhaustion.

"Hi! Is this (Y/N)?" an excited Irish accent sounded through the phone, "My name is Niall from Styles Manor."

Shit.

She bolted upright, now fully awake. "Oh, hi! Yes it is! Uh—Thank you so much for getting back to me so soon!"

"Of course." She could hear his smile through the speaker, infecting her as giddy nerves passed through her body. "I saw your application this morning, and I was wondering if you could come in for an interview tomorrow?"

"Yes! I mean of course, what time were you thinking?" She basically bounced off the bed, pacing her room to let out the energy in her body.

They ironed out the rest of the details, (Y/N) agreeing to any of his suggestions. Once bidding their goodbyes, (Y/N) can't help but prance around her apartment. Finally—finally—someone got back to her, and it wasn't a degrading, minimum wage, retail job! Niall sounded so nice, she couldn't imagine any problems she could have working for him. She sent out the same good vibes and prayers as she had before (they seemed quite effective at this point), then proceeded to stress about what to wear tomorrow.

Not only did she need this job, she actually wanted it. She had a really good feeling about this one.

—————

It was 11:23–seven minutes early—when (Y/N) pulled into the long, gravel driveway of the manor. She had texted Charlotte all about the opportunity the day before, quickly snapping a photo of the building and sending it to her before collecting her things. She took three deep breaths, centering herself before she exited her car. She stepped up the bundle of steps leading to the door, feeling incredibly small as she stood in front of the mansion.

She knew it was large, but seeing it in person was a whole other beast. The house felt like it's own entity almost; no wonder the pay was so good, it'd take a week to clean the whole place only to have to start over again on Monday. Just as she raised her hand to knock on the elaborately carved double doors, they swung open. A man with bright blue eyes, dark brunette hair, and a bright smile greeted her in the threshold of the door.

"Hi, I'm Niall!" he introduced, sticking his hand out for her to shake, "You're (Y/N) I'm assuming?"

"Yes, I am," she continued, gently bouncing their hands between them. "It's nice to meet you."

Niall reciprocated the gesture before ushering her inside. "Let's go to the study. We'll do the interview there, yeah?"

She agreed with a nod of her head, following him inside as he closed the heavy door behind her. He started walking through the foyer, leading her to the study. (Y/N) followed behind, her eyes trained on the decor and overall intricacy of the furnishings. While the outside seemed more like a lavish, English mansion on the countryside, the inside spoke a story similar of that to the Palace Of Versailles. The color palette widely utilized whites and golds, detailed frescos stretched across the ceilings, and carved frames held just as elaborate paintings on the walls. It all screamed excess.

Niall slowed in front of her, stopping by a set of double doors similar to the carved ones that welcomes her in. He flashed her another bright smile as he turned to speak to her, "What do you think? It's pretty intense, huh?"

Once he had the door open, he stepped aside, gesturing for (Y/N) to go ahead first. The walls were piled high with shelves upon shelves of books, all the bindings seemed to be faded, having been cracked open hundreds of times and showing the wear and tear. The flooring matched that of the rest of the home, marble beneath her feet with dark oak cases holding the books.

"I wouldn't say intense," she started, "Definitely nothing I've ever seen in real life before, but it's like something out of a storybook. It doesn't belong in this century."

Niall let out a small laugh at her words, leading her to a large desk sitting in front of a sprawling warped glass window. "You could say that," he joked, a smile on his face like he knew something she didn't. He pulled out the seat in front of the desk, gesturing for (Y/N) to take a seat before moving around to the other side and claiming his own chair.

"So, tell me about yourself."

The rest of the interview proceeded as if she wasn't sitting in what she was sure was a multimillion dollar mansion. He asked the handful of basic questions she'd heard at other interviews previously, seeming to be pleased with each of her answers if his kind smile was anything to go by.

"How do you feel about living here alone? It's really an independent job, so we would trust that you would actually do the work and earn your keep," he asked, branching off into more specific questions.

"Yeah, of course! It'd be like taking care of your own home, I'd think. Obviously, if you had any preferences about how the manor is kept, I'd stick to those rules and anything else you'd like," she explained with a smile. Hopefully, that was the right way to answer; she just wanted Niall to like her.

"Oh no, I'm not the owner. This is actually my friend Harry's home. He's away at the moment, and trusted me to find his housekeeper."

"Oh," she exhaled, slightly embarrassed at her lack of awareness, "Sorry, I had no idea! If I were to get the job, would I meet Harry—er—Mr. Styles? I know the listing said he's not here often."

"It's okay, I should have let you know," Niall started, his smile never faltering. "You would at some point, but he's not due back for another month or so. When he is back in town, though, he usually prefers his housekeepers to be out, or find somewhere to stay for that time frame. He enjoys being alone."

Niall rolled his eyes at the end of his statement, clearly unapproving of his friend's preferences. (Y/N) couldn't help but be a little surprised at that. Especially with a home this extravagant, wouldn't the owner want to know who's looking after everything? Even with her small apartment, she wouldn't hand it over to just anyone a friend picked. It's just a little odd, she thinks.

"I'd give you a notice of when he's coming, so you'd have time to make arrangements if need be," Niall continued. (Y/N) nodded her head, ready to ask another question about this Harry, before Niall hurriedly checked the time on his watch before running a hand through his hair. "I actually have another meeting in a half hour, so I'll give you a call later today to tell you your start date and everything else you'll need to know. Is that okay?"

He was already collecting himself, stepping away from the desk and towards the doors they entered through not even a thirty minutes before. (Y/N) stumbled behind him, taken aback by the implication of his words.

"I got the job!?" She gasped, a large smile stretching across her features. Her hands worried the strap of her bag. She couldn't believe all it took was applying to this one job, for her search to be over in less than twenty-four hours.

"Yeah, I get the feeling you'd be good for this place." He gestured her ahead of him, opening the carved door for her. (Y/N) bounced through the threshold, giddy over his words.

"Thank you, so much! I won't let you down, I'm so excited to start. Please let Mr. Styles know that I really appreciate this opportunity, and it means a lot," she gushed, following him out to the foyer they started in.

"Of course, of course," he prattled, checking something on his phone. "Go on home and start packing, I'll call you soon."

He ushered her out with the same bright smile on his face. She called out one more declaration of her appreciation over her shoulder before she felt her bicep bump against something. It was firm and unmoving against the force, causing (Y/N) to stumble back a step. When she looked, she had bumped into the arm of a tall, lean man with shoulder length hair. His face was stoic not giving away any of his emotions. He was dressed immaculately, like he fit in with the rich surroundings of the mansion. But the thing that struck (Y/N) the most was the pale grey, almost white irises of his eyes. Next to him was a dark-haired woman with a much gentler expression, but the same dove grey eyes.

She tried her hardest to hide her shock at his appearance, keeping her face as neutral as possible. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," she apologized, shooting him a quick, forced smile before hurrying towards her car. As she climbed in, she could hear Niall greet the pair, inviting them in. When she looked back, she didn't see Niall's previously bright blue eyes. His irises were replaced with the matching dull grey of his companions. His smile faltered when he saw her looking at him, the sea glass blue of his eyes returning in a blink as he waved her off.

Even after he closed the door behind him, (Y/N) couldn't help but sit in her parked car for a beat longer. She didn't like to judge anyone, but... that was fucking weird.

—————

Only hours after the interview was rushed to an end, Niall called (Y/N) asking her to start the following Monday. She felt a shot of excitement run through her after the call.

Finally—finally—she had something to look forward to. And it was an actually good job. On the phone, Niall had ran through all of the benefits again, her starting pay, and what to expect, and she just couldn't believe her luck. It was almost too good to be true; there had to be something wrong. Nothing's that perfect without a catch.

She and Charlotte spent their last day in the apartment together packing up all of their things. They had moved their shared furniture into storage, some going up for sale on different sites while others were to be kept until one of them had the space for it. The last portion of the day was spent saying a tearful goodbye to the apartment that got them through their university years, and to each other. They parted ways with a promise to see each other often, and to text each other at least once a day. (Y/N) really would miss Charlotte, but she couldn't wait to get started on this new chapter.

The next morning, the Monday she was set to start her new job, (Y/N) woke up early with a bounce in her step like a kid the morning of a fieldtrip. Once she arrived at the manor, Niall met her outside. His bright blue eyes (she had convinced herself that it had just been a trick of the light that made his irises look funny the week before) and familiar smile greeted her as she exited her car.

"Morning!" Niall called, bouncing down the steps at the base of the manor, "I wanted to help you move in if that's okay?"

(Y/N) eagerly nodded, popping her trunk where all her clothing and other keepsakes were bundled. She and Niall made small talk as they brought her few bags in, handled in one trip. He led her down the decadent hallways, and up a flight of curving stairs before stopping in front of a door. He twisted the gold doorknob, pushing the door open wide with a flourish as if presenting the space to her. She took a step inside, immediately in awe of the surroundings that now made up her home.

The room was topped with high, over-arching ceilings, decorated in a fresco of a heaven-like scene. The rest of the room was coordinated in a palette of whites and golds with accents of an earthy green. A large, four-poster canopy bed sat as the centerpiece of the room; white and gold bedding, green throw pillows adding color to the lavish bed. The posters of the bed boasted carvings of angels and vines winding up the dark wood, converging to a trellis like grid above the mattress where a breezy white curtain veiled the bed. An ornate, marble-topped vanity sat by a large window, the mirror framed in a gold plated ribbon as if it really were a portal to another dimension. A large wardrobe filled a space right next to the door to which she assumed the bathroom was. It was a room fit for a princess; something she remembers dreaming of when she small.

"Do you like it?" Niall interrupted her fawning of the room. He placed her bags next to the door before leaning against the frame with a smug smile on his face.

"Its—It's beautiful," she breathed. "I know I've said this before, but please, please tell Mr. Styles that it means so much that he's allowing me to stay here, and just, this opportunity means so much to me. Thank you too, for picking me for the position."

"Of course; I told you I think you'll be good for this place, so you don't need to thank me," he beamed. He checked something on his phone before typing out a quick reply and looking back to (Y/N). "I've got some things to do today, so I'll let you get settled in. You've not got to start working or anything today, just take today to get familiar with the house."

(Y/N) stepped forward, an appreciative smile on her face still. "Thank you anyway," she said, her fingers playing with one another, "It means a lot."

Niall shot her a smile before saying his goodbyes and leaving down the hall. She spun around, looking at all of the intricacies that surrounded her in her new home. She sighed and fell backwards atop her plush bed.

She could get used to this.

—————

It only took (Y/N) a few hours to put all of her things away. Her clothing hung up in the wardrobe, the rest folded in the chest of drawers at the foot of her bed. Her toiletries found a home in the equally as lavish bathroom, with her vanity table now decorated in her beauty products and skincare. She littered her keepsakes around the room; framed photos of herself with family and friends propped up on the side tables, sentimental ticket stubs bundled together on her vanity, and a soft, pink cat shaped pillow on the center of the bed. Aside from all of the foreign furnishings, the room was beginning to feel like home to her.

With her headphones in, listening to her favorite album of the moment, she decided to go about exploring the rest of the manor.

She tried to remember the very limited tour Niall had given her while he led her up to her room. Now without giddy, first-day nerves coursing through her, she was able to appreciate the artwork hanging along the walls and decorating the ceilings. In quick passing, the canvases depicted divine scenes, some showing angels, others showing tranquil landscapes. But now, with the time to examine the paint strokes closer, she noticed the pieces are kind of... off.

In the landscape scenes, trees held the faint features of distorted faces screaming in agony with their eyes wide in deep trepidation. Swirling pools of once peaceful ponds, now showcased inklings of blood dripping in at the edge from an unknown source. In the angelic paintings, (Y/N) noticed the subjects had no pupils or irises to their eyes. It was as if the sclera encompassed the entire eye, leaving an expressionless gaze on the small, blushing cherubs. The angels in some and humans in other's, all held the same white eyes, while some had sharp smiles. Some of the subjects even had eerily placed dots of blood on their clothing or in small spots surrounding them. A translucent shadow lurked in the background of many of the scenes; in some, the shadow stayed to the back, shading different areas of the painting. While in others, the shadow hovered around the foreground of the different scenes. They almost seemed vampiric with the placing of each of the elements. Demonic even.

It was... eerie.

But, art is art right? Some people like darker expressions, and who is she to judge?

She continued wandering through, trying not to focus too much on the artwork anymore. She found her way to the kitchen in her wing (there's four kitchens! Rich people, huh?). She began looking through the cupboards and fridge, looking for something to make a small lunch for herself.

The cabinets were clumsily stocked, full of odd selections of food (four jars of peanut butter sat on one shelf, and a random stalk of celery was placed on the top shelf all alone). The fridge was stocked full of different cuts of raw meat flanked by wedges of cheese she's never even heard of. Whoever had done the shopping must have been the middle of a bout of weird cravings, and put everything away in a chaotic rush. But, it's food, so she isn't going to complain.

She made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before retreating to her room. She pulled Netflix up on her laptop, finally settling down and relaxing. The past week she feels like she'd been going nonstop, riding a wave of giddy energy ever since she got the first call for an interview. It wasn't until she finished eating and got halfway through a Scooby-Doo movie did she realize just how tired she was.

Just as it started misting rain outside, (Y/N) fell asleep.

—————

(Y/N) lazily blinked her eyes open in the dark of her new room as she awoke from her nap. She blearily looked out the window, seeing the moon now high in the sky. Drops of sprinkling rain trickled down the panes of glass, creating small distorted rivers in her line of sight. A light fog draped across the grounds outside, making the night seem even darker.

Wait... night?

She didn't mean to sleep so long; usually she wakes from her naps after an hour or so, not five. She swung her legs over the side of her king sized bed, shocked at the chill of the marble floor beneath her toes. She padded out of the room, trailing down the hall and tracing the now familiar way to the kitchen. She poured herself some water, peeking out of the window above the sink to the backyard. A thicket of trees fenced the grounds, all bare of leaves from the cold seasons. The fog seemed thicker out back than it had in the front lawn that she could view from her room.

Just as (Y/N) took her first sip of her water, a shadow materialized in the fog. The shadow seemed human at first, the condensation fuzzying the edges of the form. The shadow began moving forward, and she then realized that whatever was out there, was definitely not human.

The shadow was large, tall like the spindling branches it had emerged from. The creature boasted large, gnarled shoulders whittling down to bone thin arms that stretched so long that the hands drug on the ground beside its feet. The outline of the torso looked almost lumped, like it's organs laid out atop the bones instead of caged in by its ribs. The legs were just as grotesquely thin as the arms, the knees crunching at an odd angle with each limping step it took.

What the fuck.

A shocked gasp stole all the breath from her lungs as she stumbled back from the window. She scrambled to get away from the pane—from the creature—as fast as she could, fearing it would see her and find its way inside. In her panic, she forgot about the cup of water in her hand that had clattered to the floor beside her when she lost her grip. The noise seemed to be amplified by the electricity in the air, causing another wave of panic to run through her system. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit streamed through her head, hoping that the creature hadn't heard her show.

She shakily took a step forward, daring to peek through the now tainted window.

It was gone.

The fog was gone, the rain even ceased. The moon shone over the grounds, lighting up each crevice and shadow the creature could hide. It was like it had never been there at all.

(Y/N) couldn't help but question herself; had she really seen anything at all out there? She'd never admit it out loud, but, sometimes, Scooby-Doo gave her childish nightmares from their mystery solving, and maybe she wasn't fully awake. Maybe, she was still stuck in her hazy dream phase having been so freshly awake. Or, what if she had focused too long on the trees lining the area, causing herself to make a creature out of the branches? There was no way she saw an actual zombie in the backyard of a multi-million dollar manor.

(Y/N) sucked in a deep breath, trying to settle her shaking hands and twisting stomach. "It's nothing, it's nothing," she whispered to herself, the mantra a way to comfort her scrambled thoughts. She proceeded to clean up the spilled water on the floor, giving her anything to focus on in favor of the nightmarish images tainting her thoughts.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, she padded back to her room, much quicker than when she left as she was unable to shake the feeling of being watched. She huddled under the plush duvet, veiled by the canopy draped across the frame as she pulled up another movie on Netflix to occupy her thoughts.

It's okay, it was nothing, it's okay, streamed through her mind as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

But was it?

—————

It had been a week since (Y/N) spotted the creature in the garden (or thought she had anyway), and she'd practically washed it from her mind. She was happy with the explanation that she hadn't really seen that zombie-like creature, and just imagined it after a dream heavy sleep. She didn't want to think about what it would mean if she accepted the fact she had actually seen something so obviously inhuman.

She was really settling into the work. It was easy, and she enjoyed working on her own, at a pace she could manage. It was a truly gorgeous place to work, too, and she took pride in taking care of it all. She couldn't wait for Mr. Styles to return home and see the attention she'd put into taking care of the manor.

The flowerbeds plotted around the perimeters of the mansion were her favorite to care after. The snowdrops, primroses, pansies, and rose bushes brightened her cold mornings when she went out to water them. There was even a landscaper—Adam—who she'd work with on a weekly basis to take care of the expansive grounds; he was nice to talk to and a needed break from her own isolated thoughts.

Maybe, this job really could be perfect, and all the things Niall had promised it would be.

—————

Days later, (Y/N) was in the middle of cleaning one of the en-suite bathrooms (there's ten) when Niall texted her. It was short and direct, leaving nothing up to interpretation.

Niall Horan

        Harry is coming back tonight, you need to find somewhere to stay until Friday. I'm sorry for the short notice, but he just let me know he was on a flight back.

She dropped the cloth she was using to clean the mirrors as she read over his message again. She had expected that Niall would give her more than an eight hour notice of when she would need to emergency evacuate her new home. She had already told Charlotte when she took the job that she would need to randomly have to leave sometimes, so she knew she had a place to stay for the next couple of days, but she felt bad springing it on her. But, what else was she supposed to do?

She sent back an okay, thanks! to Niall before quickly collecting her cleaning supplies. She piled them back into the closet she found them, before making her way to her room to pack an overnight bag. She rushed her packing, wanting to get out as soon as possible. As much as she wanted to meet her employer, if he was so adamant about no one being home while he was, she didn't want to test it.

She took her time after packing to make sure the house looked immaculate, like she hadn't been there at all aside from the evidence of her clothing and other possessions littered in her room. She wanted Mr. Styles to be pleased with her work performance, and hopefully warm up to the idea of possibly meeting her. When it finally met her standards (and hopefully his), she tugged her bag over her shoulder before locking the doors up behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the front of the manor, checking the flowerbeds for weeds and the lawn for anything out of order. Everything looked perfect, just the way she wanted it to be for him.

As (Y/N) pulled out of the winding driveway, she passed a black, clearly expensive car. Through the windshield, she saw the driver; a man with dark curling hair, bright green eyes and his pink lips set in a scowl. Her eyes followed the car behind her with the help of her rear view mirror, watching as it pulled onto the same driveway leading up to the manor. That had to have been Mr. Styles, and he didn't seem too pleased to be seeing even just her car on his grounds.

She sped up as soon as he was out of view.

—————

After three days of sleeping on Charlotte's couch, (Y/N) finally received the okay text from Niall. She was ready to move back into the manor, having felt bad to already be crashing at their place before even a month had passed. She was quick to pack up, and say her thanks for their hospitality (Charlotte insisted it was what friends were for but (Y/N) still felt bad) and was on her way.

Once back at the manor, it was like no one had been there in her absence. Nothing at all seemed lived in, to have changed at all. It was as if new dust hadn't even settled on the various surfaces. She knew for a fact that her kitchen was the only one that had food, and when she rifled through the cabinets for lunch, nothing was missing or moved. Sure, Mr. Styles could have had take out each meal, or gone out every night, but not even a glass for water or anything had been used. Everything was exactly the way she left it.

The only thing that wasn't exactly how she remembered she left it was—oddly enough—her room. If she hadn't known any better, she wouldn't have even noticed the wardrobe door that was cracked open. But, she never liked leaving the doors open, especially after the night she dreamt up that awful monster in the backyard. It was a childish fear, a monster in the closet, but it was something she knows she wouldn't have forgotten to take care of in her leave. She peeked inside the wardrobe, wanting to see if anything else was out of place.

In her scan over, everything seemed to be in order until she noticed something was missing. A basic cream sweater with rainbow stitching down the arms, her favorite, was nowhere to be seen. She knows for a fact she hadn't packed it with her, remembering the flash of color out of the corner of her eye as she closed the wardrobe door.

Mr. Styles wouldn't have gone through her things, right? He had no need to be in her room—or even her wing for that matter. He had no purpose for a worn sweater when he so clearly had money to burn.

What if that... creature found its way inside her room and took the shirt from her? Took the shirt and her scent with it.

No, no she told herself. There was no way a monster from her dreams sprouted legs and walked it's way into her room just to steal a sweater. It's not even real for Christ's sake! She probably just misplaced it, and it would turn up in the next laundry cycle she's sure. She shook the intrusive thoughts from her mind, starting laundry on the clothes she had taken to Charlotte's. She just wanted to get back to work, start cleaning to take her mind off of the eerie feeling that's been hovering around her since she returned.

She absentmindedly sorted through the mail, surprised to see the overflowing pile that collected in her absence. Had Mr. Styles even been at the manor? All signs have pointed to the fact that he had nothing to do with the place while she was gone. While doing so, she sent a text to Adam, the landscaper, letting him know they could resume their work and Mr. Styles was off the property (if he was even on it to start with). She dusted through the living areas, playing loud music through her headphones to fill her thoughts.

She decided to tackle the farthest wing first, where Mr. Styles' room was. There, she was sure she would find evidence of him being in the manor. It was the darkest of all the rooms in the mansion; no sprawling windows decorated the wall the same way the others had. The color scheme shifted from the creams and golds accented by a comforting green in her wing, to a stark white with red and black detailing the furnishings. The art changed direction as well, becoming more obviously scary than that of the other pieces littered through the home. She didn't like spending time in the halls, feeling like the eyes of demons and their victims following her every move. Once inside Mr. Styles' bedroom, her hopes of evidence of his being there were let down.

The bed was perfectly pristine; bedding tight and unmoved from when she had made it earlier in the week. Everything lacked the warmth of a person having previously occupied the space. Just like all the other rooms before, it was like no one had been there at all.

She shook her head at the perfectness of the room, moving on the bathroom. She had assumed there would still be no sign of her boss's presence, but was surprised at what she found instead. In the basket that sat beside the sink, the hem of a towel peeked out from under the lid. (Y/N) had quickly pulled the towel out, shocked that he had spent the most time in the bathroom in comparison to everything else she found (or didn't find, really). Instead of the dampness from water she expected the find, the tail end of the towel was stained a bright crimson. She jumped back and dropped the cloth in surprise. A gasp left her mouth as the realization of what it was came to mind

Blood.

She tentatively peeked inside the basket, finding four other cloths stained the same way with a lacy, white (or it should have been) blouse crumpled underneath it all. Each one was completely ruined with matching blood stains, the shirt having the deepest stains, almost black in the saturation.

Holy shit.

(Y/N) felt panic skitter up her spine and bile rise in her throat. That's a lot of blood. He had to have hurt someone badly with the amount of blood that saturated through each of the crumpled items, if not killed them. She practically sprinted out of the bathroom, and out of the wing entirely. She stumbled several times down the curving stairs, having to catch herself each time on the railing. She couldn't run fast enough.

Holy shit, holy shit, I work for a murderer. He only wanted me out of the house so he could kill people, and he's probably going to ki—

She stumbled back as she ran into a wall of a chest. In her panic, she didn't realize Niall was standing in the landing of the staircase. His brows furrowed in concern as he righted her with his hands on her biceps.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong (Y/N)? You look like you've seen a ghost," Niall's words dripped with concern as he gently guided her to one of the ornate couches she once admired.

"Niall, we have to leave—we can't be here—he's—," (Y/N) couldn't form a coherent thought as she tried to voice her panic. Niall tried to push her to sit on the couch cushions, but she fought back placing her hands on his chest to push him towards the front door. They couldn't be here, they needed to tell the police and take evidence and—

"C'mon, love, breathe. You're scaring me," Niall tried again, standing firm against her pushing.

"There was blood in the bathroom! I—I think he killed someone, or—or hurt someone really bad, we have to tell the police," she rushed again, just wanting Niall to listen.

For a second, something flashed over Niall's face. The concern he once held in his eyes disappeared as the sea glass blue hardened for a moment. Just as quickly as it was there, the expression vanished, resuming his worried expression.

"Will you show me what you found? I think I might know what it is."

She shakily led him back to the now tainted bathroom. She pointed at the bin that held the clothes, with the one she had picked up laying limply just outside of it. Niall confidently strode over to the sullied fabric, picking it up with no hesitation. (Y/N) watched on with horror in her eyes, scared to see Niall so comfortable with the possibility of his best friend being a murderer.

Niall shook his head as he examined the mid-sized towel, his back to (Y/N) before he turned around. He had an easy smile on his face, not a concern in his demeanor at what surrounded him.

"This isn't blood, silly. It's red paint."

What?

"Harry's a painter, and he's never been an organized one. He's spilled more paint mixes than I can count, and he's shit at cleaning it up," Niall joked, "You alright, then?"

"But—... it's red paint?" (Y/N) asked, skeptical of his explanation. Niall took a step towards her, one of crimson towels in his hand.

"Yeah, look. You can see where he mixed some orange in." He held out the material to her, fingers pointing to a streak where a lighter orange stained the fabric.

She guessed it could be paint. And that would explain why the dots on the shirt were so dark; as he got too into it he accidentally splotched himself. It was kind of him to have tried to clean up after himself...

"I'm so sorry, I probably look so crazy accusing your friend of something like that," (Y/N) apologized, cheeks flaming in embarrassment of her reaction.

"No, you're perfectly fine. It definitely isn't the most pleasant sight to find when cleaning a bathroom," he laughed, trying to ease the tension as best he could, "How about you go get yourself some water and relax for bit, yeah? I'll take care of this for you, love."

"Thank you, Niall," she breathed. She padded out of the room, quick to get to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water.

She braced herself against the counter for a moment, trying to find her head again. She's got to shake the eerie feeling that's been following her these past couple of days, since she saw who she assumed was Mr. Styles on her drive out. She's going to drive herself crazy if she doesn't relax. She took in three deep breaths before moving out to the living room where she heard Niall's voice.

"H, you're getting lazy. She found the shit in your bathroom and had a breakdown right in front of me." He paused for a moment, (Y/N) figuring he was on the phone from the lack of audible response from another voice. She rounded the corner into the living room, staying behind the couch with Niall's back facing her. "You have to be more careful now that you have someone else living here. You fucked up."

Niall turned on his heel, a deep furrow in his brow as he talked to the phone pressed to his ear. Once he caught sight of (Y/N) nervously shuffling around just feet away from him, he changed.

Suddenly his tone and expression take a turn, shifting back into the easy and comforting Niall she's known. "I'm glad you're having a good trip, H, just be careful with the paint next time. You almost gave our (Y/N) a heart attack."

He dropped an eyelid in a wink at her. He quickly ended the phone call after that, beckoning her over to him. She followed his direction, fingers prattling in front of her torso.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she apologized, a half smile on her face as she remembered his harsh demeanor before he noticed her.

"It's fine, love. I was just telling Harry that he needs to be more careful, and to let me know at least if he does make a mess so he doesn't send you to an early grave," he teased, coaxing (Y/N) away from her unraveling thoughts.

Niall's comforting smile and soothing tone reigned in her doubts. Of course it was just paint, she'd just been on edge lately and assumed the worst. Now she just felt silly for reacting the way she did, and the fact that Niall told Mr. Styles of her freak out made her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"It really is fine, (Y/N). Harry wasn't upset, and neither am I; it's okay," Niall pressed, a gentle smile rounding his cheeks. A buzz came from his phone, causing both his and (Y/N)'s attention to shift. Niall checked the notification that came across, raising his brows before meeting her gaze. "I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, so how about you go to the market yeah? Get yourself whatever you'd like and stock up the kitchen again. Here," he stretched his hand out, a black card in between his fingers, "Came by to give this to you, actually. H said you can use it for any expenses for the house."

(Y/N) reciprocated his smile and said her thanks as she took the card. There was a heavy slam of a door closing from the foyer, causing Niall to begin ushering her out much like the way he did the day of the job interview. With a hand on the middle of her back, he guided her alongside him to the front doors. Waiting at the bottom of the staircase she stumbled down not even twenty minutes before, was the odd couple she had seen in the weeks previous. Both were immaculately dressed like the last time, and their eyes just has hauntingly pale. The woman offered a kind smile while the man stayed stoic, watching on as Niall led her out.

"I should be finished before you get back, but I'll lock up behind myself and everything," he continued, acting as if the pair wasn't intently monitoring the interaction.

"Oh, okay," she stuttered, barely having time to grab her bag and keys while Niall pulled open the carved doors, "Thank you again, Niall, and sorry about earlier."

"It's fine, (Y/N), really," he said before gently coaxing her out the door with a soft hand on her arm. His being so adamant about her leaving every time he had a "meeting" with these people, caused a flare up in the nerves he had calmed not too long ago. The fact that they all happened in Mr. Styles' manor also gave her an odd feeling. Why couldn't Niall hold them at his own home?

She called her goodbyes to him as she exited down the bundle of steps leading to the front door. Niall barely reciprocated before he closed the door.

This morning has been... weird.

—————

A month later, (Y/N) really couldn't be happier. There hadn't been any incidents with last minute arrangements needing to be made on account of Mr. Styles returning to town, and Niall hadn't come by to kick her out for anymore so-called meetings. She felt like she was being paid to live alone; her duties mostly taking the form of signing for packages and sorting mail, paying bills, cleaning and any other mundane task Mr. Styles needed taking care of. She also hadn't had anymore lingering thoughts of that creature, having the ordeal almost scrubbed from her mind after casting out the childish fear of it stealing her sweater.

Until tonight anyway.

(Y/N) woke with a start in the middle of the night from a dead sleep. The limping creature plagued her dreams for the first time in so long, this time it's stringy arms reached out and caught her with spindly fingers wrapping around her throat. She physically felt her airflow become cut off, causing her to break herself from the nightmare. She awoke with the canopy veiling her bed billowing open from the sweeping of cool air coming from an open window. Her bedding was kicked to the foot of her bed in her sleep, leaving her exposed to the gusts of chilling wind filtering through the room. She shakily crawled off her bed and shut her window, now noticing the freezing rain that accompanied the wind. Suddenly a flash of light struck through the clouds, quickly followed by a crack of thunder. The sound made her jump, feeling like her whole bedroom was full of eyes watching each of her movements and reactions. She needed to get out of here.

She wandered out of her room, heading towards the kitchen in search of cold water to calm her anxiety. The hallways were dark as she tentatively walked through them, not having turned on the lights in her rush to get away from the feeling of being watched. The windows that lined the hall offered dim light from the new moon in the sky. Random flashes of lightning momentarily brightened the familiar path.

And the man standing at the end of the hallway.

The bolt of light illuminated his broad form for just a second before plunging (Y/N) back into darkness. She stopped dead in her tracks, icy fear wrapping around her throat and stunning her limbs. No one else was supposed to be here; no one had been here when she went to bed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, streamed through her head, a kind of panic she'd never felt before shuddering up her spine and clouding her thoughts. Niall never said Mr. Styles was due back tonight, letting her mind wander into the possibilities of a break in. A break in that could go wrong. She left her phone in her room when she left in her haste, leaving her with no option to call the police. She tentatively backpedaled, hoping the man hadn't seen her and she could slip into her bedroom and place the call.

The plan went to shit when another strike of lightning showed that the man had most definitely seen her, as he was now right in front of her. The shock of the proximity and how he moved so silently and quickly made her stumble back. Her foot caught on a rug underneath her, causing her to fall backwards and land on her butt. Small flashes of light from outside lit up the side of the man's scowling face. His brows were deeply furrowed and his lips twisted in a snarl. She could feel the heated anger radiating off of him.

"What are you doing here!? You're not supposed to be here!" He raged, his voice deep and rumbling. The room reverberated at the volume of his tone, shaking (Y/N)'s already nerve shot body. Her voice died in her throat unable to come up with an adequate answer for the man. He menacingly stepped towards her, his demeanor growing deeper with fury. "What. Are. You. Doing here?! Answer me!"

"I—I—who are you?!" her voice wavering and breaking under the weight of her fear. The man's presence dominated the hall, crushing each bit of calmness she once had and any semblance of sanity. Who asks a murderer who they were?!

An exasperated sigh left the man, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I'm Harry Styles. Why are you in my house?! I know Niall told you of my rules."

This was Mr. Styles? This isn't quite how (Y/N) imagined meeting her boss for the first time.

His voice was now at a normal volume, but his words seeped a rage deeper than he had before. (Y/N) sat still on the ground looking up at him, mouth open like a stunned guppy. She broke from her stupid, scrambling trying to get to her feet. All the while, she could feel his fiery gaze bore into her clumsy form.

"M-Mr. Styles, I'm so sorry. I promise, I had n-no idea you would be here. Niall never told m—."

"Shut up," his deep voice cut her off, an annoyed expression taking the place of anger from moments before. "Just... stay in your wing and away from me."

(Y/N) opened her mouth to talk again, stopped short by the glare Mr. Styles shot her. He obviously had no interest in her apologies and explanations. He stood unmoving, towering over her form, waiting for (Y/N) to make her leave. As soon as she was steady on her feet, she scurried to her room. The dream that woke her up in the first place forgotten as a new fear took precedence in her mind.

She cowered under her thick duvet, pulling the opening of the canopy closed around her. The deep gravel of his tone echoed in her ears, she saw the fire in his eyes every time she closed her own.

And she could have swore, for just a moment, his eyes were a blank white. Just like the paintings.

—————

(Y/N) had been cooped up in her room since the night she met Mr. Styles. She barely left her bed, let alone passed over the threshold to the hallway. She knows he said to stay in her wing not just her room, but the fear of running into him again kept her from daring to venture any further. The only times she allowed herself to leave her self-designated prison was when she needed to eat; she always chose to eat a big breakfast early and hold off her hunger throughout the day until late at night when she assumed he was asleep. Her nights were the hardest, filled with restless half-sleeps.

Any fleeting moment of true, deep sleep was quashed by unsettling dreams she wasn't able to shake. In the middle of the night, she could swear she saw Mr. Styles standing at the end of her bed, peering through the gauzy canopy at her sleeping form. As soon as she would blink her eyes awake, he would be gone causing her to assume she'd just begun dreaming of the man who struck such a fear into her. It wouldn't be that far off anyway, what with her vivid nightmares of that monster and now her boss. The dreams went along with odd noises she would hear in the night, causing a haunting feeling to wrap around her anytime she wasn't occupying her mind.

Her alarm set off at six in the morning, alerting her of her chance to eat before she would confine herself to the same two movies on Netflix for the rest of the day. She scuttled out of her room, checking over her shoulder and around each corner for the man she had been avoiding. She entered the kitchen, feet padding over the immaculate floor tiles. Atop the granite island was a small folded piece of thick card stock. Her name was written elegantly in swirling cursive on the front, calling for her to open it. She tentatively picked up the paper, unfolding the crease to read the curling letters.

(Y/N),

I have gone. You may now roam the manor and resume your duties.

H.

Relief filled her like a breath of fresh air. The tension that had locked her muscles for the last three days finally released, the stiffness in her body going lax. While she knew this really isn't her home, she did live here and it wasn't a pleasant feeling walking on eggshells in the one place she should feel like herself. Exhaustion crashed through her, finally feeling her anxiety dip. She could sleep. Really sleep without feeling like she should have one eye open in case she made a mistake that brought Mr. Styles'—or H's—attention to her.

She didn't want to eat she just wanted to go to bed and wake up at a real hour, not six a.m. She went to toss the paper away, but just as it was to slip out of her fingers and into the bin, she caught herself. She couldn't figure out why, but she wanted to keep it. As a reminder to keep on her toes? To show her that this wasn't her place to be comfortable? She didn't know why, but she knew what she was doing when she instead placed it in the far drawer of her vanity. She didn't spare the note another thought as she jumped into bed, not bothering to pull the canopy closed before she was already snuggled beneath the covers.

Mr. Styles' ghost was absent from her dreams.

—————

Weeks later, (Y/N) woke to the sun lighting up her bedroom. The hazy film the canopy gave her allowed for a romantic filter to distort the scene before her. This is how she imagined princesses waking up in storybooks; a grand room, warming sunlight, and the promise of a happily ever after. She had long forgotten her interaction with her boss (more as a way of coping than that of it being forgettable). She hadn't had a single dream about him since he left, and had seamlessly fallen back into her work routine. She felt refreshed.

Today she was going to work in the gardens, tending to the rose bushes in the back as her first task of the day. While the sun was out, the weather still called for a jacket with the morning chill lingering in the air. She filled a bright red watering can in the kitchen before lugging it outside.

She knelt down in front of the flower beds, gently sprinkling water over the leaves and over the soil. She caressed the petals of a dying red rose, pouting as she saw another of its siblings wilting. Maybe the cold was affecting them more than she thought; she'd have to ask Adam.

"You're not watering  the roses enough."

(Y/N) jumped when she heard the all too familiar voice of the one person she wanted to forget. He now spoke in a level tone, soothing in the way the words were deep and slow. Well, until she processed the fact that he was there.

She popped up to her feet, the watering can left at her feet. She turned to see him standing behind her, arms crossed, a billowy white shirt almost fully unbuttoned with his chest on show. The shirt was tucked into a pair of flare pants, the material growing more and more sheer as it approached his feet. Wasn't he cold?

"Mr. Styles! I'm so sorry, Niall didn't tell me you were coming back today. I can go, I promise I had n—."

He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. He held a hand out in front of him, palm open and facing her. She very quickly took the cue and ceased her talking.

"Don't bother," he drawled, "I've already seen y'more than I intended."

She felt a pang in her chest at his words. She knows he doesn't mean it in any other way than the fact he didn't want to see any of his help around the house, but it was just so mean. She opened her mouth to speak, but one glare from him had her closing her mouth and forgetting whatever it is she wanted to say.

He brushed past her, walking up the elaborate stairs to the patio. He stopped and talked to her over the railing, eyes squinting in the morning light (or maybe at her).

"Finish watering the roses; they'll need that whole can. Afterwards, you may go about the duties y'had already planned for the day. All I ask is that y'please be quiet, and that y'refrain from being in the same room as I." His voice was clear and commanding, showing that he wasn't really asking that of her, he was telling her.

"I—Okay... thank you, Mr. Styles." She wasn't really sure what she was thanking him for, but she'd say anything at this point to get into his good graces.

He didn't bother to respond, continuing up the stairs with his ring-clad hand running along the railing. At the top of the case, he stopped suddenly. His back faced her as he spoke to her over his shoulder.

"I am having company over tonight. Do not leave your wing, or bedroom at all if y'can help it."

And then he was gone.

—————

(Y/N) had heeded Mr. Styles' advice, keeping herself in her room since she finished her chores. Around ten o'clock was when she heard the heavy front doors open and close several times, indicating the arrival of guests. She could hear the low chatter of conversations happening in the floor below her. She tried to go to sleep multiple times, but the hum from downstairs and the knowledge that the star of her bad dreams was just below her stopped her every time she tried to drift off.

By the time it neared midnight, (Y/N) realized she hadn't left her room since lunch. Her tummy growled, mixing in with the chatter from the floor below. She didn't want to leave her room, Mr. Styles' words echoing in her head, but she couldn't take it at this point. She just wanted a grilled cheese, what's the worse that could happen?

She silently slipped out of her room, padding down the hallway with her pajama pants sweeping the floor. She was hyper aware of the voices that floated through the corridor, trying her best to gauge their distance. She quickly got to the kitchen, digging out the ingredients to make a grilled cheese.

Only ten minutes later was the sandwich plated with (Y/N) ready to scuttle back to her room. She stopped on the last floor tile before entering the corridor, realizing that she hadn't drank anything since lunchtime as well. Downstairs, she could hear a lull in the conversation. She figured she had time to get some juice at least, everyone seeming distracted enough to spare another few minutes out of the safety of her room. She was quick to fill a glass with some apple juice, her distracted mind causing her to overfill the cup. Just as she brought the full glass to her lips, a loud bang sounded from down the steps. It made her violently jump, her entire body on edge and ready to flee at a moment's notice. The combination of her jump and the slippery glass caused her to lose her grip, the cup shattering across the tiled floor at her feet.

"Fucking hell," she whispered, hoping whatever had been going on downstairs would cover up her own noise. She shakily bent down, beginning to pick up the shards surrounding her.

She tried her hardest to be careful, the warnings of cutting her fingers ringing through her ears in her mother's voice. Due to her shaking hands, she wouldn't be so lucky. One of the larger shards sliced across her finger, sending a stinging shock through her body. She hissed a swear, quickly discarding of the pieces before examining the cut.

Suddenly, a shift filled the air, the way it does when a person enters an otherwise empty room. (Y/N) looked behind herself, already expecting (and dreading) to see Mr. Styles. Instead she saw an eccentrically dressed blonde man, his eyes trailed over her body and focused in on the hand cradled to her chest. He had the same pale grey eyes as the ominous couple she'd seen before. His, however, held malice and a predatory hunger.

"Aw, did you hurt yourself?" He feigned a mocking pout, arms crossing over his chest as he took a cocky step towards her. (Y/N) spun herself around, fully facing the man. She took a cautionary step back as he drew closer. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing; not like Harry's usual chew toys."

His voice sunk deeper and deeper as he kept talking, still striding towards her through the kitchen. (Y/N)'s back hit the marble counter of the island, leaving her stuck between the breakfast bar and the man that now looked at her like his next meal. He closed the space between them in one large step, trapping her between his hands on the counter. Her finger continued to bleed, her other hand that held it now slick with the red liquid.

"I can help you with that, you know," he dipped his head, nodding towards her hands, "I won't tell Harry, if you don't."

"No-No thanks. I'm just his housekeeper, I—I'm not even supposed to be out here." She tumbled over her words, stuttering and stumbling through any excuse to get away. "I need to go, but thank you."

She side stepped, hoping he would get the hint and let her leave. His forearm stayed firm like steel, truly caging her in. He let out a humorless chuckle, ducking his head down to be eye level with her.

"Nu-uh, darling, you're gonna stay right here."

The once grey irises that colored his eyes were completely wiped away. No pupil or iris were found on his now blank, white gaze. His skin tone rivaled that of his eyes, draining to a shocking off-white. The veins in his neck turned black, his lips doing the same just as the points of two of his teeth peeked out from under his top lip.

She's sure her terror was painted on her face as he smirked at her. The small amount of attention she was still giving her sliced finger now diminished, her hands falling from her chest and instead bracing herself against the counter behind her. She made one more feeble attempt at escape, trying to duck under his arms and slip away. He breathed a humorless laugh at her attempts, nonchalantly grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her up. He ducked his head down, his face by her neck. His chilling breath swept across her skin, a layer of goosebumps erupting on her skin. Just as (Y/N) let out the most pathetic whimper, her eyes falling closed as she knew she had no way out of whatever this man—this thing—was going to do to her, his body was suddenly pulled away. The trapped feeling that had been crushing her only seconds before disappeared, causing her eyes to snap open to see what had happened. Mr. Styles now stood between her and the blonde man, his back to her. He stood firm, his body seemingly broader and stronger than this morning.

"What do you think you're doing, Magnus?" Mr. Styles addressed the opposing man, his voice deceivingly calm as it dripped with malice. (Y/N) felt a shudder run down her spine at his dominating presence, fearing him although his rage wasn't directed at her (this time anyway).

"C'mon, H, you always let us have turns with your toys. She's bleeding already anyway, I didn't see the harm," the man, Magnus, drawled. His eyes had returned to the grey, and his complexion now a healthy color.

"You bit her?!" Harry's voice boomed, seeming to shake the room under the volume. He took a menacing step towards Magnus.

The blonde man held his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes at his friend's reaction. "Jesus, Harry, calm down. She cut her finger, I was just going to help." He peeked around Harry's shoulder, flashing (Y/N)'s cowering form a pointed smile. "Why do you care, anyway? She's just one of your toys, you've never minded before."

"She's not a toy, Magnus. Leave." He took another step towards him, hands clenched into tight fists beside him. Magnus went to speak again, eyes lingering on (Y/N)'s form. He was quickly caught off by Harry's threatening tone. "Leave!"

He heaved an annoyed sigh and left the room, shooting (Y/N) a look over his shoulder. Something akin to a growl erupted from Harry's chest, tearing through the room as he caught the look as well. Magnus left the room with a chuckle.

Now alone, Mr. Styles slowly spun around to face (Y/N). Both of her hands were decorated in her own blood, but the cut on her finger was long forgotten. His brows furrowed as he examined her shaking form, slowly and deliberately stepping towards her.

"You alright?"

(Y/N) really did try her hardest to focus on his words and come up with an answer. But she couldn't when her vision started to blur and her legs gave out from beneath her.

The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was Harry's blank, white eyes.

—————

chiaroscuro is a technique that uses intense shades of dark and light to dramatize a painting

hi guys thank u sm for reading!! this one has been in the works since i started posting my last series and i hope its worth the wait!! i havent revealed what exactly it is thats “off” ab harry but im sure u all have ideas and theories and have probably figured it all out anyway ojnfkdjfkdj this whole piece checks in at 60k+ words so there will be a few more parts after this!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if u have any requests, theories, ideas about what’s next please send them here!! 

[publiccollectors]

From the discussion “Towards A Self Sustaining Publishing Model” hosted by Printed Matter.

Some things I have learned in over 30 years of publishing since my teenage days as a zine maker, administrating my project Public Collectors, and from working in the group Temporary Services and our publishing imprint Half Letter Press.

I have just ten minutes to speak. If only one or two things that I share are useful, that’s plenty! It took me decades to understand some of this stuff.

Use every exhibition invitation with a budget to print something. Use the whole budget to print something. Make something in a large enough print run so that you have something to give away and surplus that you can sell. Your publication can be a folded sheet of paper, a booklet, a newspaper, a poster, a book, or anything in between.

Be able to print at least something at home. Buy a cheap laser printer or inkjet printer, find a used copy machine, buy a RISO or some other duplicator, carve something into a potato or a piece of foam and print it. Being able to do at least some of the printing and production at home—even if it’s on a tiny scale—will compel you to print things that you might have convinced yourself not to send out or bring to a professional printer. Hopefully the ability to print impulsively and compulsively will result in good work. Figure out how to keep making things on every scale. Look for cheap used printing equipment on Craigslist. Team up with friends and buy equipment together that you can share. Start a printing collective in your basement.

Ideally your publication should cost 1/5th or 1/6th of the retail price to make. If you sell a $10.00 publication through a store, you are probably only going to make $6.00 or less after the store takes its cut. So ideally your $10.00 book costs $2.00 or less to make. Don’t aim to just break even. Aim to make a profit so you can keep making more publications and pay for your life. Publishing will probably never be your sole income but don’t lose money on purpose. Make things that are priced fairly and look like they justify what they cost to buy. The fact that you didn’t find a more affordable way to print something is not an excuse to sell something that feels cheap and shitty for a ridiculous sum of money. Good cheap printing is easier to find than ever before. Do your homework.

Figure out the cheapest and least wasteful ways to do everything. Ask other publishers where they get their work printed. Look for local printers so you can avoid shipping fees. Ask local printers if you can pay in cash for a discount. Ask printers if there is a cheaper way to do what you want to do by adjusting the size of your paper or the paper stock or some other small shift in form. If you print things yourself, buy the paper that is on sale. Design a publication around the paper that you found for cheap. Discount warehouses sometimes have good paper. Even dollar stores sometimes have good paper. I’ve even bought paper at flea markets. Costco sells an 800 sheet ream of 24 lb paper for $6.99. I use it all the time. It rules. I also recommend getting your jugs of organic olive oil there, but you can’t print with that.

Free printing is good printing. If you have access to free printing, use it. Free printing is like free food at art openings and conference receptions. It is one of those pleasures in life that never gets old. Come up with an idea that is based around the aesthetics of whatever free printing you have access to and make the publication that way. Eat the cheese and bread. Drink the wine. Make the copies at work.

Buy bulk shipping mailers on eBay. Find bubble wrap and other packing materials in the trash. Look out for neighbors who just bought new furniture—it’s usually wrapped in miles of packing material you can use for shipping books. Boycott terrible right wing fuckers like ULINE. Seriously, they give money to everyone horrible. Trump? Check. Ted Cruz? Check. Scott Walker? Check. ROY FUCKING MOORE? CHECK FUCKING CHECK! Tear up their catalogs and use them as packing material to protect your books. Make publications that have a consistent size so you can purchase cardboard mailers in bulk and get a discount on them. Buy packing tape in bulk. Buy everything in bulk. You can store your extra reams of paper under your bed or on top of your kitchen cabinets if necessary. Be like a wacko survivalist prepper, but for office supplies. Go to estate sales and look for the home office in the house. Buy the dead person’s extra tape and staples and rulers and scissors. I’ve been using some random dead person’s staples for years because I bought their staple hoard. Staples aren’t like meat and milk. They don’t expire.

I’m against competition. Try to avoid competing with other artists for resources. If you don’t truly need the money, don’t ask for it. Artists should have a section on their CV where they list grants they could have easily gotten but didn’t apply for because they are privileged enough that they don’t need the money as much as someone else. I almost never apply for anything but the one thing I do apply for and get every year is a part-time faculty development grant from Columbia College Chicago where I teach. It pays adjuncts up to $2,500 a year to fund their projects and seems to be completely non-competitive. My union negotiated to get us more money. I have used that grant to make over a dozen publications. The value of the publications I make and sell with each grant is about three or four times the value of the grant itself. Some years I make more from the grant than I do from the limited number of classes I teach. But I don’t depend on this grant to be a publisher and I’d still be able to make things without it.

Make things in different price ranges so everyone can afford your work, but also so that you can sustain your practice. Make a publication that costs $2.00, that costs $6.00, that costs $20.00, and make something special for the fancy ass institutional libraries that have a lot of money to spare and can buy something that costs $300.00. Likewise, make things in all different size print runs. Is there something you can print 1,000 of that you can keep selling and giving away for years, to enjoy that quantity discount that comes with offset printing a large number of publications?

Collaborate with people and pay them with publications (if they are cool with that) that they can sell on their own. Sometimes this ends up being better pay and more useful than an honorarium, and it helps justify a larger print run. But see what they need—don’t assume. Barter with other publishers and sell each other’s work and let each other keep the money. This helps with distribution. Sometimes it’s easier to sell their work than it is to sell your own. Help others expand the audience for their publications.

Fund your publishing practice by asking your friends who teach to invite you to talk to their college classes about your work. Use those guest speaker fees to print something. I sometimes tell people on social media: If three or four people will invite me to speak to their class, it could fund the entire next issue of X booklet series that you like so much. This has often worked. Also, sometimes their students end up ordering publications. Sometimes lectures about publications generate more income than the publications themselves.

Have an emailing list and write newsletters to announce new publications. Stay in touch with people who like what you do. Expect to spend a ton of time corresponding with people. Have some cheap things and cool ephemera on hand that you can send people for free when they mail order your publications. Reward people who support you directly with something nice that they didn’t expect. People like handwritten notes. It’s okay if they are very short but sign the packing slip and at least write “Thank you!”

Above all, know that publishing is a life journey and not a get rich quick scheme, or even a make very much money scheme. Enjoy the experience of meeting and working with others, trade your publications with other publishers and build up an amazing library of small press, hard to find artist books. Get vaccinated and travel and sleep on each other’s couches. Be generous with your time, knowledge, resources, and work. Tell Jeff Bezos to fuck off by never selling anything you make through Amazon. Find the bookstores that you love and work with them forever. It’s nicer to have deeper relationships with fewer bookstores than surface level interactions with dozens of shops run by people you don’t know.

Think about your publishing family. Bookstore people are your family. People that organize book fairs and zine fests are your publishing family. Other publishers are your family. People who follow your work for years on end are your family. Printers and binderies are your family. The postal workers that know you by name and that you know by name are your family. The person who doesn’t care if you make the free copies at work is your family. Over thirty years later, I’m still in contact with people I exchanged zines with through the mail when I was a teenager. In some cases I still haven’t met them in person. It’s fine! They are my family. Your students are your family—particularly once they graduate or drop out, as long as they continue making books and zines. Your family is your family, particularly if they value and support your publishing practice. And for this reason, this talk is dedicated to my late father Bruce Fischer, who let me use the company copier and postage meter when I was in high school, and to my mom who sat on the floor with me and helped me hand collate and staple my zines.

That’s what I’ve got for now. Stay in touch and with luck, and enough vaccines and masks and hand sanitizer, maybe I’ll see you at a book fair. – Marc Fischer • Thank you to Be Oakley of GenderFail for the invitation to present, to the other presenters Vivian Sming, Yuri Ogita, and Devin Troy Strother, and to the wonderful people at Printed Matter for hosting this! You should be able to find the video archived on Printed Matter’s YouTube Channel.  Presented on April 2, 2021

[awsugar]

hiii mack! how are u? i’m kind of stressing out right now because i have my first ever job interview on saturday. like i’m really excited because i need the job but at the same time idk what to expecttt it’s a retail job but also i have 0 experience </3 i’m glad the interview is over zoom so the interviewer can’t see my sweaty palms LOL

anyway do you or any of ur followers have any tips ?? the only advice i’ve gotten so far is ‘be yourself and ask a lot of questions’ which is. not helpful for someone as anxious as me. aaaa thanks if u read this <333 love ur blog sm

hi! i’m ok! i’m on break at work rn.

and ok. so i’m not going to lie to you, job interviews are hell when you have anxiety. interviews are like one of my biggest fears. they suck. but they are a necessary evil and i believe that you can do it!!

since this is your first interview i really encourage you to look up common interview questions and practice your answers. out loud. and do it a few times u til you feel confident with your answers and it comes out naturally. you said it’s retail so if it’s like a big chain and not just a one location type deal you can probably google “[place of employment] interview questions” and that will give you even more specific questions that they might ask. also again if it’s a bigger chain there might be reddit threads about their interviews or even a whole subreddit for employees where they might talk about stuff they were asked at their interviews and tips on like specific phrases your interviewer might be looking for that will put you immediately on the hire list. i know this bc i work at a chain and there’s a really active subreddit where i got a lot of good info before my interview.

you might have already done this but i would say also look up stuff about the company if you can, make yourself familiar with their vision/mission/values and stuff and try to fit in into one of your answers, probably when they ask you why you want to work for this specific company. if you can reference what you saw on their website like “i want to work for this company bc of the inclusive work environment etc” or whatever it is and that will really impress them. definitely don’t go in blind though and don’t just say i want to work here bc i need the money. everyone needs the money. they want someone who actively wants to work for their company and that doesn’t mean it has to be your dream job but you want them to think it is lol.

so yea like people said be yourself, try to seem outgoing and make sure you make eye contact (i know it’s hard) and smile. i don’t think asking questions is THAT important bc i never have any questions in my interviews but like if they ask you if you have any questions you could ask something basic like what the starting pay is or how many hours you would get starting out. and of course if anything does come to mind you can ask that at the end when they ask.

interviews are not fun but i believe that you can do it and i think practicing and getting used to your answers to those type of questions really helps when you have anxiety esp since this is your first and you might not already know what questions to expect. best of luck feel free to let me know how it goes on saturday!! 🖤🖤