#retail cash management
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rohroy · 1 year ago
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Cash Pickup | Cash Transit Service in India | Securevalue India
We at securevalve offers cash pickup and cash-in-transit services to our clients who have a large volume of cash as a part of their day-to-day operations like a large retailer and petrol stations.
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mintyvoid · 2 years ago
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As someone who is socially anxious as fuck AND has worked food- i super get it. and it happens on the other end too.
The longest place i worked food was at a Uni cafeteria- so regulars were the regular. And even then I wouln't jump to conclusions literally because of all the stuff that I feared as a customer(and mentioned above). I didn't want to make any of the students feel that they had to order the same thing, or that they were werid for ordering the same thing over and over(specially since, i have literally no issue with it, im autistic- i LIVE for that shit). And it's also like terrifying to see the same people every shift, I'm forced into interactions that i'm terrified i'll fuck up either socially or with their orders.
but also from the workers side- seriously long as you're nice.. we LOVe you. You are a break, and breath of fresh air, it can be really overwhelming having to cater to tens of hundreds of unique people and their need/wants. to then not have to do that for even just a single person, can be really relieving.
Starving to death this morning because ive been to the new local cafe twice this week already and if i go a third time ill look desperate.
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litt1e-prince · 1 year ago
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shut up i have thoughts on my boyfriend i must share. n e way! he kissed me the other day and i was kicking my legs and he called me cute thats all thank you.
#i was also jumping to stim while he made breakfast and i made his tea#and he copied me to mock me and i was like WELL. OKAY NVM THEN FUCK YOU#and he went ‘someones excited’#and then i fucked up his tea. i left the tea bag in too long and it looked like coffee and his housemates were talking about it and he#pointed to me and was like ‘yeah the teabag was left in too long.’#I DIDNT KNOOOW! IM STUPID#n e way. i told him his pancakes sucked and then we watched a movie together holding hands#theres lots of inbetween bits there but im not including them because i cant b asked#i was venting in the team room about my horrible shift yesterday and i fell very dramaticslly to the ground (dropped if u will) and he#started laughing and my other friend bursted into laughter and went ‘i love the drama kid performance’#my shift yesterday was so bad - i was working in 3 different areas! i was only suppose to be#i was meant to be on retail but i worked gsp retail AND costa#and when i went to get a drink (i needed it from carrying that building) my manager yelled at me#so i snapped - and then i was put on retail AND I HAD NOTHING. there was no cheese no wine no hotdogs no sweet popcorn no cash#no bitches no fun no time no life no will to live#i kept snapping at my mangers until i yelled ‘can i just have an extra hand on retial please?!’#and then when the queue went down i ran into the team room - my bf followed#and then i was like ‘wheres monse???? go get monse???’ and she so he gets her and i rant to both of them#and then i give con a kiss on the forehead and then i give monse one too so that she doesnt feel left out#and then i asked him to buy me food and he did and he brought me 2 snacks also
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midnightiscool · 1 year ago
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It's kinda weird, but my previous job at the museum was one I dreaded going to every morning, to the point where I was getting nauseous. It was like an hour to work completely nervous the whole time, to sit in an office where my superiors openly didn't like me, and my coworkers were equally nervous to be stuck in there.
Now I work a retail job that's an hour and a half down on a bad day, and I'm not nervous about going there. I look forward to going to work. My managers are friendly folks, and my coworkers are all relaxed, and many are even genuinely excited to see me.
It's less pay, but my managers don't take away my shifts because they decided they don't like me/to punish me because I said "I'm not sure" to a child. Not everyone can do what I did, but while I'm living with my parents, I'll take less pay and a longer trip to work, if it means my coworkers are kinder to me.
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drgnflyteabox · 11 days ago
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a little continuation of this. john price x cashier fem!reader. verbal abuse, anxiety, yelling, hurt/comfort, price comes to your retail rescue<3<3 1.4k words
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The only good part of a 5am wakeup is watching the sunrise slowly climb the sky.
There’s a quiet sort of tiredness that lets you appreciate it more — and though the lot associates have made a joke about the morning crew and their sunrise photos, there’s an element of truth there that’s both funny and a little beautiful.
It’s a drag to wait outside the doors for a manager to open them, trying not to make eye contact with the early-bird oldies and the impatient contractors who think they should just be allowed in before everyone else based on the amount of money they spend.
When the doors open and the 6am hardware warriors stroll in, ready and chipper, you’re half asleep leaning against your counter.
Another good thing about the early shift is the lack of uptight managers. None of them want to wake up before ten, so you’re safe to lean and lounge while waiting for customers.
A call comes through your earpiece after a few customers, nearing the cusp of 8am.
”Hey, we’ve got the guy coming your way,” your head cash – Lisa – says, voice crackling in the mic. The guy is a rude jerkoff, some contractor who thinks abusing staff is the way to get good service and better prices.
What’s worse is that your managers allow it. In fact, you get warnings like this all the time. The guy is here, the guy has a big order, make sure to cash him out fast or he’ll start shouting. Be pleasant. Smile.
The guy is walking down the store lumber aisle with a pinched expression on his face and two other employees dragging his stacked carts behind him.
You try to ignore his caustic vibes, thinking instead of the pink, purplish sunrise you’d seen earlier. Clouds like magic, cotton candy, floating above you 
You ignore the incessant tapping of his feet, the annoyed groan he makes when you lift a package of insulation up and find flat saw blades.
Sure, you can’t accuse him of stealing. But you can make a cheery, passive aggressive comment–
“Oops, I guess you forgot these!” you chirp, scanning them a little slower than necessary. It’s not mature, but it does make you feel a little better. Nice try, bozo.
Playing the idiot cashier helps with these types. Why are you mad, sir? I’m just a cashier? And though you could answer more questions than you do, you don’t. Playing the ditz makes life easy.
Lisa’s definitely judged you for it, but hey. She’s not stuck at the register like you are.
Sometimes, it works. You get a scowl, but they’ll go quiet. Sometimes.
Today, it backfires.
“Excuse me?” 
Oh here we go, you think. It’s way too early for this.
“What was that, sir?” you play dumb, voice squeaking.
“Are you accusing me of stealing?” his volume raises. You see redness crawling up his neck. Fuck.
“No, no, I only meant–” you try to backtrack. Fuck, fuck. This is the result of your hubris. Your reasoning flies out through the massive lumber area doors as his rage climbs.
“No? No? Because I think you just accused me of stealing. Do you understand how much I spend here, you moron?”
“I do, I didn’t mean to imply–”
“Get me a fucking manager, now,” he snaps. God, you have no clue if he acts like this to get his way, to get discounts, or if he’s really this angry half the time he comes in.
Regardless, the effect is real. You’ve never been good with anger, and you’re shaking a little as you press the call button on your pager.
“C-Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?” you broadcast to the store.
All you can think of is looking away from his angry gaze while you wait. Oh, a bubble bath – you have an aloe and green tea bubble bath packet at home waiting for you.
Hot water. Bubble bath. Manager to fix this mess. Maybe a hot chocolate after work?
A couple minutes pass. Longest minutes of your life.
No answer. The guy taps his foot, sighing loudly, angrily. You try again.
“Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?”
Oh fuck, is that someone else in line? You turn away bodily, speaking again into your mic. Trying to look like you’re doing something about the wait.
Another couple minutes. Despair washes over you like a cold blanket of snow.
“Need a manager at lumber cash,” you try.
Typical, really. Lisa is likely on break, and you have no idea who’s managing the store at the moment.
You imagine it’s likely Cody, who’s good with contractors like this because he's personable but he’s also lazy it almost cancels out. Also, he takes a smoke break every 5 minutes.
And never takes his pager.
“What the fuck is taking so long?” you hear behind you.
“I’m sorry,” you say, turning. “My manager is busy at the moment but–”
“Busy?” his voice is like a gunshot in the airy space, an absurd volume for the time.
“Yes–”
“Do you know–”
A third voice cuts in.
“Think you better learn a little patience, mate,” British?
Oh, shit. It’s that guy from before. He’s got one hip a little cocked, a frown on his face like he’s smelled something bad. His boonie hat is titled down, nearly covering his eyes. You can see them because you’re shorter than he is.
“Excuse me? And who are you? Mind your business,” the guy says.
“I think you’d better let the nice girl check me out while you wait,” he motions for you towards the parallel cash desk, and you’re grateful to just follow.
You scurry away from the guy faster than is appropriate, calling out again as you cross the open space towards the other cash desk for a manager.
You can only hope they arrive while you’re helping this one. John Price, you think his name was. He's a memorable man. Him and his moustache and his expensive company.
John Price has left the guy flabbergasted. He also has twice as many carts as him, and when your eyes widen to see them he just says take your time in a smooth, deep voice.
Oh man.
You do take your time, already calmer for John’s presence. Strange maybe to feel safe in the company of a stranger, a contractor no less, but it’s a nice change of pace.
Beep, beep. You scan methodically. John has no hidden items, and he doesn’t pressure you. He leans up against his lumber order and watches you check underneath things, under the cart, doing everything you’re trained to do.
“Start early?” he asks.
“Hm?” you lift your head. “Oh, yes. 6am.”
He whistles.
“Hard worker, I see,” he helps you lift a heavy bag of concrete.
“Thank you,” Marx look away, you think. Your face is only a little hot.
Cody strolls in the lumber doors missing his apron and – you guessed it – his pager. You fix him with a look as he smiles in greeting.
“Need a manager when you’re free,” you rush. Cody is nice, but you’re kinda miffed now.
“Oh, sure,” he says, walking by you toward the breakroom.
John Price raises a brow.
“Not everyone’s up to the task, eh?”
You feel hot again.
“It’s just early.”
John smiles. He looks remarkably silly doing it, you think. His facial hair makes him look approachable, cuddly. Like a teddy bear.
John’s order totals double the guy, which isn’t really a victory for you but it feels like one. Ha! See, you aren’t the richest guy here. You feel vindicated. Cody looks miserable cashing him out, which makes you just a little guilty.
“Will that be cash or card?” you ask, finger hovering on the POS.
He pays with card. You certainly do not notice how he cradles the machine. You aren’t that down bad.
Only you are, and his fingers are huge. His knuckles are hairy.
When you go to hand him the receipts, printed twice for record keeping, he manages to slip a 50 into your hand before you notice.
“Oh, no! I’m not allowed to–”
He folds those big bear paws over your hand, enclosing the cash in it with a sh sh sh as you protest.
“For the trouble,” he winks.
“You didn’t give me any trouble,” you try. The warmth of his palm, the roughness of his calluses. You’re a goner.
He chuckles, and you wonder how he can be both so intense and so disarming.
“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he squeezes your hand, pushing it gently back towards you until you can put it in your apron pocket.
“Thank you,” you squeeze out.
“Don’t let him get to you,” he says.
“I’ll try,” you thank God or the universe or whoever that Cody and the guy finished a while ago.
“Attagirl.”
Yeah, you’re a goner.
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astrobiscuits · 11 months ago
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Chiron persona chart obs
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WARNING: BRIEF MENTIONS OF ED, S*ICIDE, S*XUAL AB*SE. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND NOT TO READ THIS POST IF YOU'RE VERY SENSITIVE thank you
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Stelliums show us where our main trauma or wound lies:
Stellium in Aries/1st house - body image issues/body dysmorphia, hating ones face and wanting to change it at all cost, being so focused on ones trauma that it results in excessive independence
Stellium in Taurus/2nd house - self worth issues, hating ones voice and/or being made fun of for how ones voice sounds, excessive shopping due to fear of having nothing, having stash of cash hidden everywhere in the house due to being scared of getting robbed
Stellium in Gemini/3rd house - being too scared to speak to others, hating the way you express yourself, being an overachiever at school due to fear of being seen as "stupid", fear of being run over by a bicycle or a car
Stellium in Cancer/4rd house - family problems (divorced parents, one of the parents is out of the picture for whatever reason, family members dealing with addictions, family abuse), issues when it comes to comforting yourself in times of crisis, HEAVY abandonment issues
Stellium in Leo/5th house - had to grow up too fast instead of enjoying childhood, fear of not being "the perfect parent", fear of not making it in the industry (for those pursing creative careers or following their passions), issues regarding getting pregnant and delivering a child, fear of being burned by the sun or by fire
Stellium in Virog/6th house - fear of contacting an incurable disease, issues regarding eating disorders, trauma regarding messy spaces, which results in OCD
Stellium in Libra/7th house - issues caused by getting cheated in a relationship, fear of trusting someone in a one-on-one connection, trauma resulted from business affairs which have gone wrong
Stellium in Scoprio/8th house - fear of death, issues caused by sexual trauma/sexual abuse, grooming, stalking, human trafficking, mysterious disappearances, divorce, taxes, loans
Stellium in Sagittarius/9th house - fear of not being able to experience everything one has always wanted, issues caused by not living to ones full potential, fear of travelling too far away, religious trauma
Stellium in Capricorn/10th house - fear of being forgotten and not standing out, issues regarding not looking & acting in a professional manner when needed, fear of not being promoted in ones career, the trauma is very visible to the public
Stellium in Aquarius/11th house - fear of not fitting in a crowd or a friend group, issues regarding being part of LGBTQ+ or a subculture often dismissed (POC, people with disabilities, orphanage kids, emos), trauma related to the country's government and (possible) implications in war, fear of dying in a natural disaster (earthquake, tsunami, volcano), fear of dying by electrocution or in an airplane crash
Stellium in Pisces/12th house - fear of being admitted to a prison, asylum or nursing home, having frequent thoughts of unaliving onself, fear of drowning, fear of what happens after death, fear of being misunderstood or made fun of for hearing voices and seeing things which aren't real
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Moon shows us how we process our trauma and wounds:
Moon in Aries/1st house : screams, throws things around (maybe also breaks a few things), if anyone reminds them of their wounds/traumas, they'd literally break that person's neck; they might recklessly drive, play with fire or drink excessively out of anger
Moon in Taurus/2nd house : resorts to retail therapy, cooks their favourite meals, gets some comfy pillow and blankets and watches their favourite show; they're slow to heal their wounds, but they manage to do so
Moon in Gemini/3rd house : overanalyzes what happened to the point that they've thought of every scenario possible, (if they have more than one wound/trauma) switches between wounds, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with siblings and acquaintances
Moon in Cancer/4th house : cries 24/7, acts distant with people who are not close to them and defensive with those who want to talk about their feelings; they tend to have very, very unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka they resort to self-harm)
Moon in Leo/5th house : transforms their pain & wounds into a form of art - whether it's through dancing, painting, singing, acting, photography, videography; sometimes they might not recognize how much their past affects them, especially around others, they boast about how "it wasn't that bad" even though they're clearly affected by what happened
Moon in Virgo/6th house : focuses on the details, what they could have done better and what they didn't, easily becomes anxious, cleaning the house becomes a form of therapy for them; in case of physical wounds, they document themselves very well (sometimes they are even able to heal themselves, since this Moon sign in Chiron persona chart has a sort of 6th sense about medicinal procedures)
Moon in Libra/7th house : their s/o knows every pain, wound and traumas they've ever experienced, analyzes the past in a logical manner and tries to find a healthy coping mechanism, without hurting anyone else in the process; listens to sad, romantic songs
Moon in Scorpio/8th house : if someone else is guilty for their wounds/traumas, they're going to plot revenge and execute their plan in a discreet manner; often jealous, they might pursue fwb connections to stop thinking about their pain; the ones who manage to deal with their past in a healthy manner become a completely different person in the process
Moon in Sagittarius/9th house : dealing with their wounds/traumas opens a new world for them, they end up adopting a new set of beliefs as a coping mechanism, travelling to another country to get some space from their surroundings helps them heal
Moon in Capricorn/10th house : replays the past over and over again, they numb their emotions, if asked about their wounds/traumas, they answer very stoic; they also tend to be more realistic and don't like to tell themselves lies or hear lies about their trauma
Moon in Aquarius/11th house : resorts to technology to cope with the pain, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with their friends or on social media, but not with family; they might try some unusual coping mechanisms
Moon in Pisces/12th house : they isolate themselves from everyone in order to cope with the pain, meditation and breathing techniques are their to-go methods of calming their anxiety down; if they don't manage to cope in a healthy way, they dissociate and go through a depersonalization process or an addiction takes over them (drinking, smoking, they overuse medication etc.)
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Jupiter shows us where we're blessed, but fail to see. The stronger the modality, the more obvious it is to other people.
♃ Jupiter in fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) and/or fixed houses (2nd house, 5th house, 8th house, 11th house) are extremely blessed and everyone is able to notice, but the native.
♃ Jupiter in cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) and/or cardinal houses (1st house, 4th house, 7th house, 11th house) are blessed, but only a specific category of people notice it.
♃ Jupiter in mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) and/or mutable houses (3rd house, 6th house, 9th house, 12th house) are still blessed, but the effect is hardly noticeable to anyone.
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Those with:
Grand Trine/Kite/Yod (Finger of God)
Sun, Jupiter, North Node and ruler of the chart conjuncting MC and/or placed in 10th/11th house (minimum 2 placements)
Stellium in 10th house/11th house
-> have got amazing healing abilites and often end up pursuing careers where they help & heal society (usually as doctors, therapists, spiritual advisors, social workers, advocates who actually make a difference, etc.) They usually become famous for their healing gifts.
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Other small considerations:
Ascendant shows us how we are perceived at first glance when we are dealing with pain
IC shows us how we are perceived by our family (or in a safe, secluded place) when we are dealing with pain
DSC shows us how we are perceived by our partner or best friend when we are dealing with pain
MC shows us how we are perceived in public (or in our career) when we are dealing with pain
North Node shows us our salvation (where we need to focus on in order to heal)
🕊 Sun trine Moon & Sun sextile Moon individuals have an easier time healing their traumas and wounds
🕊 Sun opposite Saturn & Sun square Saturn individuals feel the need to rebel from their father/grandparents, norms that have been imposed on them, old customs & traditions, institutions/government, in order to heal themselves
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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago
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Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked
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On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.
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There are few phrases in the modern lexicon more accursed than "software-based car," and yet, this is how the failed EV maker Fisker billed its products, which retailed for $40-70k in the few short years before the company collapsed, shut down its servers, and degraded all those "software-based cars":
https://insideevs.com/news/723669/fisker-inc-bankruptcy-chapter-11-official/
Fisker billed itself as a "capital light" manufacturer, meaning that it didn't particularly make anything – rather, it "designed" cars that other companies built, allowing Fisker to focus on "experience," which is where the "software-based car" comes in. Virtually every subsystem in a Fisker car needs (or rather, needed) to periodically connect with its servers, either for regular operations or diagnostics and repair, creating frequent problems with brakes, airbags, shifting, battery management, locking and unlocking the doors:
https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-worry-about-vehicles-working-bankruptcy-2024-4
Since Fisker's bankruptcy, people with even minor problems with their Fisker EVs have found themselves owning expensive, inert lumps of conflict minerals and auto-loan debt; as one Fisker owner described it, "It's literally a lawn ornament right now":
https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-describe-chaos-to-keep-cars-running-after-bankruptcy-2024-7
This is, in many ways, typical Internet-of-Shit nonsense, but it's compounded by Fisker's capital light, all-outsource model, which led to extremely unreliable vehicles that have been plagued by recalls. The bankrupt company has proposed that vehicle owners should have to pay cash for these recalls, in order to reserve the company's capital for its creditors – a plan that is clearly illegal:
https://www.veritaglobal.net/fisker/document/2411390241007000000000005
This isn't even the first time Fisker has done this! Ten years ago, founder Henrik Fisker started another EV company called Fisker Automotive, which went bankrupt in 2014, leaving the company's "Karma" (no, really) long-range EVs (which were unreliable and prone to bursting into flames) in limbo:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisker_Karma
Which raises the question: why did investors reward Fisker's initial incompetence by piling in for a second attempt? I think the answer lies in the very factor that has made Fisker's failure so hard on its customers: the "software-based car." Investors love the sound of a "software-based car" because they understand that a gadget that is connected to the cloud is ripe for rent-extraction, because with software comes a bundle of "IP rights" that let the company control its customers, critics and competitors:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
A "software-based car" gets to mobilize the state to enforce its "IP," which allows it to force its customers to use authorized mechanics (who can, in turn, be price-gouged for licensing and diagnostic tools). "IP" can be used to shut down manufacturers of third party parts. "IP" allows manufacturers to revoke features that came with your car and charge you a monthly subscription fee for them. All sorts of features can be sold as downloadable content, and clawed back when title to the car changes hands, so that the new owners have to buy them again. "Software based cars" are easier to repo, making them perfect for the subprime auto-lending industry. And of course, "software-based cars" can gather much more surveillance data on drivers, which can be sold to sleazy, unregulated data-brokers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
Unsurprisingly, there's a large number of Fisker cars that never sold, which the bankruptcy estate is seeking a buyer for. For a minute there, it looked like they'd found one: American Lease, which was looking to acquire the deadstock Fiskers for use as leased fleet cars. But now that deal seems dead, because no one can figure out how to restart Fisker's servers, and these vehicles are bricks without server access:
https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/08/fisker-bankruptcy-hits-major-speed-bump-as-fleet-sale-is-now-in-question/
It's hard to say why the company's servers are so intransigent, but there's a clue in the chaotic way that the company wound down its affairs. The company's final days sound like a scene from the last days of the German Democratic Republic, with apparats from the failing state charging about in chaos, without any plans for keeping things running:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/03/07/east-germany-stasi-surveillance-documents/
As it imploded, Fisker cycled through a string of Chief Financial officers, losing track of millions of dollars at a time:
https://techcrunch.com/2024/05/31/fisker-collapse-investigation-ev-ocean-suv-henrik-geeta/
When Fisker's landlord regained possession of its HQ, they found "complete disarray," including improperly stored drums of toxic waste:
https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/05/fiskers-hq-abandoned-in-complete-disarray-with-apparent-hazardous-waste-clay-models-left-behind/
And while Fisker's implosion is particularly messy, the fact that it landed in bankruptcy is entirely unexceptional. Most businesses fail (eventually) and most startups fail (quickly). Despite this, businesses – even those in heavily regulated sectors like automotive regulation – are allowed to design products and undertake operations that are not designed to outlast the (likely short-lived) company.
After the 2008 crisis and the collapse of financial institutions like Lehman Brothers, finance regulators acquired a renewed interest in succession planning. Lehman consisted of over 6,000 separate corporate entities, each one representing a bid to evade regulation and/or taxation. Unwinding that complex hairball took years, during which the entities that entrusted Lehman with their funds – pensions, charitable institutions, etc – were unable to access their money.
To avoid repeats of this catastrophe, regulators began to insist that banks produce "living wills" – plans for unwinding their affairs in the event of catastrophe. They had to undertake "stress tests" that simulated a wind-down as planned, both to make sure the plan worked and to estimate how long it would take to execute. Then banks were required to set aside sufficient capital to keep the lights on while the plan ran on.
This regulation has been indifferently enforced. Banks spent the intervening years insisting that they are capable of prudently self-regulating without all this interference, something they continue to insist upon even after the Silicon Valley Bank collapse:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout
The fact that the rules haven't been enforced tells us nothing about whether the rules would work if they were enforced. A string of high-profile bankruptcies of companies who had no succession plans and whose collapse stands to materially harm large numbers of people tells us that something has to be done about this.
Take 23andme, the creepy genomics company that enticed millions of people into sending them their genetic material (even if you aren't a 23andme customer, they probably have most of your genome, thanks to relatives who sent in cheek-swabs). 23andme is now bankrupt, and its bankruptcy estate is shopping for a buyer who'd like to commercially exploit all that juicy genetic data, even if that is to the detriment of the people it came from. What's more, the bankruptcy estate is refusing to destroy samples from people who want to opt out of this future sale:
https://bourniquelaw.com/2024/10/09/data-23-and-me/
On a smaller scale, there's Juicebox, a company that makes EV chargers, who are exiting the North American market and shutting down their servers, killing the advanced functionality that customers paid extra for when they chose a Juicebox product:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/10/2/24260316/juicebox-ev-chargers-enel-x-way-closing-discontinued-app
I actually owned a Juicebox, which ultimately caught fire and melted down, either due to a manufacturing defect or to the criminal ineptitude of Treeium, the worst solar installers in Southern California (or both):
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/27/here-comes-the-sun-king/#sign-here
Projects like Juice Rescue are trying to reverse-engineer the Juicebox server infrastructure and build an alternative:
https://juice-rescue.org/
This would be much simpler if Juicebox's manufacturer, Enel X Way, had been required to file a living will that explained how its customers would go on enjoying their property when and if the company discontinued support, exited the market, or went bankrupt.
That might be a big lift for every little tech startup (though it would be superior than trying to get justice after the company fails). But in regulated sectors like automotive manufacture or genomic analysis, a regulation that says, "Either design your products and services to fail safely, or escrow enough cash to keep the lights on for the duration of an orderly wind-down in the event that you shut down" would be perfectly reasonable. Companies could make "software based cars" but the more "software based" the car was, the more funds they'd have to escrow to transition their servers when they shut down (and the lest capital they'd have to build the car).
Such a rule should be in addition to more muscular rules simply banning the most abusive practices, like the Oregon state Right to Repair bill, which bans the "parts pairing" that makes repairing a Fisker car so onerous:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/27/24097042/right-to-repair-law-oregon-sb1596-parts-pairing-tina-kotek-signed
Or the Illinois state biometric privacy law, which strictly limits the use of the kind of genomic data that 23andme collected:
https://www.ilga.gov/legislation/ilcs/ilcs3.asp?ActID=3004
Failing to take action on these abusive practices is dangerous – and not just to the people who get burned by them. Every time a genomics research project turns into a privacy nightmare, that salts the earth for future medical research, making it much harder to conduct population-scale research, which can be carried out in privacy-preserving ways, and which pays huge scientific dividends that we all benefit from:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership
Just as Fisker's outrageous ripoff will make life harder for good cleantech companies:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps
If people are convinced that new, climate-friendly tech is a cesspool of grift and extraction, it will punish those firms that are making routine, breathtaking, exciting (and extremely vital) breakthroughs:
https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/10/08/norways-national-football-stadium-has-the-worlds-largest-vertical-solar-roof-how-does-it-w
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Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based
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watchmegetobsessed · 8 months ago
Text
WING IT
A/N: we are slowly getting more content, lets just hope something drops soon!
WORD COUNT: 3k
SUMMARY: It's your first day working in Selma's Home, you're nervous enough already, but when an emergency calls your boss away and you're left alone, the situation is topped when famous CEO Harry Styles casually strolls in.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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It doesn’t matter that this job is just an in-between. Something that earns you money until your dream position opens. A first day is always stressful, especially when you have no idea what to do.
You were applying to dozens of jobs at once, just shooting everywhere you could, hoping to get an answer back before your rent was due. Selma’s Home was the first one to invite you for an interview and somehow, miraculously you even got the job despite the fact that you have no experience in retail. You suspect that desperation was a big factor in your hiring, because Selma lost 2 of her employees at once when the young couple that was working for her moved across the country. 
Now here you are, walking into the store, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you head down the aisles where you see Selma behind the cash register already getting ready to open.
“Hi!” you greet her, her head snapping up at your weak voice. Selma is such a fierce, kind of intimidating woman, but you can see how it helped her to open this store and make it one of the most successful home decor stores in the city, offering tasteful stylish pieces along with practical utility items for one’s home. 
“Oh, hi! Welcome to your first day, you ready?” She even cracks a smile, but somehow it just makes you gulp hard.
“Yeah, readier than ever!” you manage to squeeze out a nervous chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense your jitters.
“Alright, then let’s get started.”
With an hour until opening Selma is eager to squeeze in as much information into it as possible. She walks you through the store, talking about the most important items, but also handing you a handbook about everything that’s currently selling in the store.
“Use your downtime to roam around and you’ll learn them by the end of the week without the handbook,” she says, eyes running over the shelves as she is talking, already moving to the storage room in the back. 
She talks about the system, how to unload the new arrivals every two weeks and then you move on to the cash register, aka your biggest fear. It’s quite the stress factor to deal with money, making sure everything is neat and correct, you can only hope you won’t mess it all up.
Then the store opens and you follow around Selma to learn the ropes. What’s different here is that whenever a customer comes in you offer them help right away and if needed, you assist them throughout their whole time shopping. There are quite some designer products selling and you’ll need to know everything about them to be able to sell them to the customers just like Selma does.
She is so good at it. No matter who comes in, she so effortlessly talks them into leaving with not only what they came for, but some more as well. She is enchanting, nice, open and warm and you just keep taking notes mentally, though you don’t feel confident enough to be as charming as she can be the moment the bell rings above the door. 
When lunch rolls around you allow yourself to feel relieved for a second that you survived half the day already. Selma sends you to the back to have your lunch and you just sit in silence, staring ahead of you, mustering up all your energy for the rest of the workday. You’ve just finished your sandwich when Selma barges into the breakroom.
“Y/N, there’s a bit of an emergency.”
You jump to your feet, scenarios already running through your mind. Is there a fire? Did the storefront just collapse? Someone stole those hella expensive Japanese tablecloths? 
“What happened?”
“My daughter, she is ugh! Such a menace, she got into trouble at school, so I have to go there. I need you to cover for a bit, just an hour tops, I swear!” 
She is already grabbing her purse, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, car keys in hand while you just stand there dumbfounded. Is she actually gonna leave you alone in the store on your first day?
“Selma, I-I don’t…”
“You do, Honey. Just an hour. This is a dead time anyway, if anyone comes in, just try your best to help them and ring them up at the end. Easy, I know you can do it!”
She is storming out and you follow her like a lost puppy.
“B-But what if I mess something up?” you ask, panic setting in. 
“As long as you don’t set the store on fire, you’ll be fine. I trust you, Y/N!”
And with that, she is already gone, the bell rings above the door as you stand there like a statue. 
You watch the storefront in pure panic, your stomach dropping every time it seems like someone is approaching the shop, but no one comes in. 
Until the bell rings above the door. 
For a split second you hope it’s Selma, but looking up you see a tall, broad figure and your heart threatens to burst right out of your anxiety filled chest, at first because hello! It’s a customer! But then as he steps further into the shop and takes off his sunglasses, realization settles in. 
This is not just a regular customer, this is Harry Fucking Styles, CEO of Pleasing Productions, the studio that’s given the world the absolute best romantic movies in the past decades and the man is famously known for being a ladies favorite, but appearing as a total mystery in the media. 
You’ve read about him a lot before, it’s hard not to bump into his name online, thanks to his looks he is always somehow in talk for either having dinner with a model, appearing on the red carpet looking like a fucking snack, or, your personaly favorite, declining giving an answer to a question regarding his private life. 
And now he is standing there, looking around the store. 
It takes a couple of moments for you to push out of this frozen state and finally step forward.
“Hello!”
Wow. Did your voice actually sound like that?
Clearing your throat you keep moving towards him.
“Hi, can I help you with anything?”
You try to rake your mind to remember everything you’ve seen and heard from Selma to use now, but the moment he looks up, your mind goes blank. He is just as beautiful as he looks in pictures or maybe even more. Unlike on those red carpet photos where he is always dressed in designer suits, now he is wearing a pair of simple pants and a gray long sleeve, his hair is a bit tousled and it appears he is growing his beard out, a bit shaggy, but he makes it look very… hot. That’s all you can say looking at him.
“Oh, hey!” He is sporting a polite smile as he looks up, about to keep talking, but he stops for a moment upon looking at you and he stops.
Everything stops. 
It’s as if he is taking you in, you can feel your cheeks heating up, the nervous fidgeting starts again, but you hide your hands behind your back so he doesn’t notice. 
“I’m looking for some kitchen stuff,” he then says, hiding his hands in his pockets. 
“Great!” you breathe out. “We do have… those.”
You flinch internally, but ignore just how awkward you are in his presence. 
You ask him about what he needs specifically as the two of you start walking down the isles and for a moment you think of grabbing the handbook, but that would look awful, so you make a decision on the spot.
You’re gonna just wing it. 
What could go wrong? You’ll just pretend like you’re Selma, confident and know everything about the items, you’re gonna say whatever comes to your mind and just… wing it. 
All while ignoring how attractive this man is up close. And intimidating. And charming. And…
“I think I want to check out the coffee stuff first,” he suggests and nodding you walk him over to the kitchen items.
“Do you have a coffee machine and you’re looking for some accessories, or…”
“I just got one of those old fashioned moka coffee pots,” he says with a boyish smile. “But I want to get that to the next level, if you know what I mean.” You do not.
“Of course,” you smile, eyes scanning over the shelves. 
Your grandmother has one of those old moka coffee makers, but you have absolutely no idea what else could be used for those, so you just start grabbing things and making up what they are used for. 
One after the other, you just keep showing him stuff with no idea what you’re talking about, but the longer you’re talking the more confident you’re growing, especially when he just keeps nodding and humming along to anything you say. 
“So… which one are you more interested in?” you ask at the end of your little speech. You look at him and find him already looking at you with a tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 
“What can you tell me about those?” he asks, ignoring your question and just moving to another shelf. 
He keeps asking about items and you just make up everything as you go. Of course, you know some of the stuff, but you were never really a true chef in the kitchen, so there are way too many items you don’t know that much, but somehow, you’ve gathered enough confidence that even you believe what you say. 
Slowly, Harry fills his basket as you move through the store and every time you look at him you catch him already looking at you with the same smile you can’t quite decipher. 
“What about those?” he points up at a set of plates on the top shelf.
“Oh, those are so pretty! Let me show you them!” you enthuse and run to grab the ladder from the back. 
It’s not the steadiest tool for sure, but you ignore the wobble you feel when you start climbing it.
“Are you sure it’s–”
“It’s fine, don’t worry,” you chuckle, reaching the top step, but your knees are definitely shaking. You focus on grabbing the plates and getting off as fast as possible, but right when you take them off the shelf you already feel yourself losing balance. 
But Harry is quick to come to your rescue. One of his hands grabs the ladder to steady it and the other… the other one grabs the back of your thigh to help you hold yourself up. Until then you were shaking because of the ladder, but now it’s definitely because of his firm hold on you, the warmth of his touch and the thoughts that unrelease when you realize just how perfectly his fingers are digging into your flesh. 
“You good?” he asks in a deep, husky voice. 
“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than just a whisper as you hold onto the plates as if they could hold you up. 
You start moving down on the ladder, but Harry’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it works up on your hips and waist, grabbing onto your elbow as you finally step onto the ground and even then, he is still touching you, his eyes locked on yours as you’re still holding those damn plates. The image of dropping them and pushing up against him flashes through your mind and your knees wobble again when you catch his gaze flickering down to your lips for a second. 
“The plates,” you blurt out then. He looks down and a smile stretches across his face.
“They really are pretty.”
“Right?” you let out a breathy laugh. 
“Now that you risked your life for them, I guess it’s only fair if I actually buy them.”
Fuck, your heart is about to jump right out of your chest, how is he so smooth?
You gather a few more things and then move to the cash register to ring everything up. 
“How long have you been working here?” he asks, patiently waiting for you to finish. 
“Um… Do you want the truth?” you ask, with a cheeky smile.
“Yeah.”
“This is my first day,” you admit, just as you finish the scanning and when you look at the amount it all added up to, you almost choke on your own saliva. “Um, your total is 1630.”
For a moment you think he’ll question how it’s so much, but without hesitation he whips out his card and taps it on the terminal.
“First day, huh?”
“You wouldn’t have guessed?”
“Oh, I kind of did,” he chuckles and he starts to help you with putting everything away in bags. “You really should learn what the items are used for.”
Normally you’d be embarrassed that he noticed how much you just made up, but the smile he is gifting you with vanishes all negative feelings and you can actually find it funny. 
“I will.”
“Thank you for your assistance,” he smirks, grabbing the bags from the counter. “And if I happen to leave a review about the excellent service, what name should I drop?” 
“I’m Y/N,” you say with a sheepish smile. He then sticks his hand out and you take it.
“Harry. It was really nice meeting you.”
“You too.”
With a final wave he turns around, slides his sunglasses back to the bridge of his nose and then walks out of the store. You stand there completely overwhelmed by the experience and you have no idea how much time passes by before Selma barges through the door.
“Hi Darling! How did everything go?” she beams, walking up to the counter where you’re still standing. 
“Great!”
“Did anyone come in?” 
“Yeah. Harry Styles was just here.” Selma freezes for a moment before looking up at you.
“Harry Styles? As in…”
“Yeah. That Harry Styles.”
“How did it go? Did he buy anything?”
“He spent 1600 dollars on kitchen stuff.”
“Y/N, that’s great!” Selma claps her hands. “Was he satisfied? Could you help him?”
“I think I could,” you say with a knowing smile. “He seemed… satisfied, yeah.”
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The first day jitters are luckily gone by the next day, especially because Selma looked at you with so much pride after you told her about your encounter with Harry that you feel like you can’t do anything wrong. 
Before lunch Selma asks you to rearrange some stuff in the storage and you’re a bit relieved you don’t have to take any customers for now.
But because of that, you’re not out when one specific person walks into the shop. Again. 
Harry enters the store confidently, a smile already on his lips as he looks in the direction of the cash register, but it fades when he only sees Selma, but no sight of you. Selma, on the other hand, becomes ecstatic when she sees and recognizes him.
“Welcome! How may I help you?” she chirps, walking towards Harry, who is still looking around, eyes searching for you. 
“Hey, is the… Is the woman who worked yesterday here? Y/N?” Selma stops, surprised.
“Y/N? Uh, yes, but she is busy now, I’m sure I can help you–”
“I want her,” he states.
“She is still training, I’m sure I can–”
“Look,” Harry sighs. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Selma, the owner,” she states proudly.
“Selma, I’m more than happy to buy everything in this store if it means I get to talk to her. How does that sound?”
Selma stares back at him, finally understanding the situation. Her stance changes instantly.
“Let me go get her for you.”
You’re going over your list in the back when Selma appears, her spotless appearance feels odd in the storage room’s setting. 
“Oh, hey! I just finished with–”
“I need you outside.”
“What? Why?” Panic washes over you, because you can’t read her face and what could she possibly need you for outside on your second day?
“Just come. Now!” She turns around and heads out, not even checking if you’re following her. Of course you do.
“Selma, what did I–” you start mumbling behind her, but just when you step out and spot Harry at the cash register.
His face lights up the moment he sees you and those damn butterflies start raging in your stomach. 
“Harry, you’re here. Again,” you state the obvious. 
“I am,” he chuckles and you see Selma walk away from the corner of your eyes. 
“How, um–What can I… help you with?” you ask, clearing your throat. Why is he here? Could it be… because of you? Yesterday you definitely spent an awful lot of time daydreaming of the way he was touching you on that ladder and you’d be lying if you said you felt disappointed he just walked out, knowing you might never see him again. 
Well, so much for that.
“I forgot to get something yesterday.” 
“Oh,” is all you can say, the disappointment snaking back into your gut. He is not here because of you, how could you even think about that?
Harry’s smile widens as he watches your face drop and then he finally continues.
“Your number.”
Your eyes widen and you must look quite funny, because Harry chuckles at the sight of your expression. 
“Was this too straight forward?”
“No!” you snap right away, maybe a bit too eagerly. “Not at all.”
“Great, then…”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over, you type your number in quickly and hand it over. He taps on the screen and a second later your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket.
“Just checking you didn’t give me a pizzeria’s number,” he jokes, making you laugh. “And… now that I’m conveniently here, maybe you can show me some more stuff.”
“What do you need?” you ask as the two of you head down one of the aisles. 
“Hmm, how long is your shift?”
“Um, another four hours,” you scoff.
“Then I guess I’m interested in everything. Whatever takes four hours to look at so I can take you out once you’re done.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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yearsbecomingcool · 13 days ago
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good boy | daniel markowitz 18+
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donate to gaza here | masterlist | part 2
pairing | daniel markowitz x f!reader
synopsis | your best friend is there for you after a shitty day at work.
warnings | f!reader, me ranting about working retail, drug use, sexual context, premature ejaculation, hair pulling, subby!danny, and grinding.
word count | 3k
a/n | the lack of fics for daniel is insane to me so naturally i had to fix that. thelma is amazing and you all need to watch it, super fun and cute!! i'm so thankful the screenplay for thelma is up online because i used it as a guide for daniel while writing. there will be a part 2 to this i swear. next fic is going to be for caracalla and I'm very excited for it. if y'all have requests for any of fred's other characters please feel free to send them in :)
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There’s nothing you hate more than a customer who comes in at the last minute. You were at your retail job, clearing the last of the hangers out of the fitting room when you heard the front door open. You glance over at your coworker, giving her an annoyed look. You drop your voice low, with an empty store and the music turned off it won’t take much for your voice to travel. “Who comes into this place right before closing, who needs jeans at 9:51pm?” You groan.
“Let’s just hope they’ll be quick.” She returns to sweeping up the fitting room. About five minutes later the customer, a middle aged woman with a haircut that screams ‘I will call your manager over nothing’, walks into the fitting room holding a pile of jeans. You decide to grit your teeth and open up a room for her before wandering off to the back to find your manager. You put in the door code and head into the back, pounding on the office door where your manager is counting the registers already. If this woman tries to pay in cash you all are fucked. You hear your manager putting up the money and she opens the door just a crack. “We just had someone come in to try on like ten pairs of jeans, should I tell her that we close soon, or?”
Your manager sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “I’ll handle it in a minute, just let her try it on for now and put someone at the front to make sure no one else comes in.” You nod in response and head back out to the floor, sending someone up to the front before you slip into one of the fitting rooms. You open your texts, a small blue dot next to your conversation with Danny. Sometimes you envied him being unemployed, right now is one of those times. You open up the conversation, smiling down at his message. He had finally watched the horror movie you’d suggested ages ago and was telling you how much he loved it. You type up a quick response as you hear the other fitting room door open, you slip your phone into your pocket and slip back out.
“Do you carry anything not…ugly?” She asks, motioning down to the pair of atrocious jeggings she’s tried on. You internally cringe at the printed on pockets and crease lines. 
You put on your best customer service voice and nod, “Yes ma’am. Do you know what you’re looking for?” 
She gives you a look that makes you want to quit on the spot, “If I knew what I was looking for do you think I’d be trying on so much shit?” 
You manage to stay calm, giving her a strained smile. “Well if there’s anything I can help you look for just let me know.” The woman shuts the door in your face and you sigh, slipping back into the fitting room you were just in. You pull your conversation with Danny back up and type out a text to him.
please tell me you’re free tonight, work is making me lose my mind 
You slip your phone back into your pocket and try to keep yourself busy. It’s ten minutes past close now and you’re getting more annoyed as every second passes. As you’re fixing the clearance section for the hundredth time your phone buzzes, a new text from Danny. 
i am
what time are you off? 
You smile and type back a response
i was supposed to be off at 10:30 but some karen came in and is trying off half the store
so when i know i’ll let you know
i need canes so bad tonight 
His response comes quickly. 
canes sounds so good 
do you want me to pick you up or?
You bite down on your lower lip, trying to decide. 
yeah
do you wanna stay over tonight?
a movie night and canes maybe?
Your phone buzzes again with his response.
sounds perfect
mom is driving me up the wall again
You send a thumbs up react and head back to the fitting room to see if that customer is gone yet. You sigh in relief when you see the door is open and then immediately want to bash your head into the wall when you see she left every single item she tried on in the room and on the floor. You can hear your coworker locking the doors and feel relieved that she’s at least gone now. You snap a quick picture of the mess and send it to Daniel.
i love my job.
He’s quick to reply, the message coming seconds after yours. 
canes will fix it
promise
You smile down at the message and quickly type out your response.
if it doesn’t i bought more edibles last week
You ignore his next messages to fix and put back the items she had left in the fitting room. You hold down the button on your walkie, “Are we still getting out of here at 10:30? I fixed all the stuff she left.” As soon as she replies you send Danny a quick text to let him know to be here at 10:30. You pray the next 15 minutes will go by quickly as you find things to busy yourself with until finally you can grab your things and leave. As you all walk up to the doors to leave you smile at the sight of his car in the parking lot, parked right next to yours. 
As soon as you’re out you’re quick to run to his car, knocking on the passenger window, scaring the shit out of him in the process. You throw your head back and laugh at the sight of him dropping his phone and screaming. He unlocks the door and bends down to scoop his phone up off the floor. You’re still laughing when you get in. “Holy shit, I forget how easily scared you are.” You drop your bag to the floor next to a crumpled Wendy’s bag and buckle up, leaning back comfortably in his seat. 
“You’re such a dick,” he mutters, still recovering from how you scared him. 
“You looooove me,” you tease, reaching over to ruffle his already messy hair.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you need to sleep at night,” he jokes, buckling up and turning the car back on. 
You sit in silence for a minute as he drives out of the parking lot. “Thank you for coming to hang out, work has been such a goddamn nightmare lately…I’ve missed you.” You say softly as you play with the rips in your jeans. 
He smiles, his cheeks turning pink, “I’ve missed you too…I started taking those classes at the community college last month. I’m not taking a lot but they’ve kept me a little busy.”
“I’m glad you’re doing them, I thought you were gonna lose it having to be stuck around your parents constantly,” you chuckle. As sweet as his parents are they can be a nightmare to be around at times, you think they’re why he’s so anxious but you’d never say that out loud.
“They’ve been driving me insane today, I keep telling them it’s so hard to get anywhere to call back but they think it’s bullshit. They haven’t had to apply for a job in like 30 years, they think you can still walk in and get an application,” he rants. 
“Oh my god…there’s no fucking way. Every time someone comes in to get an application we have to tell them to apply online, I feel like an asshole every time I have to tell them. Y’know you should come work with me, it sucks but it’s something at least. We’re hiring.” 
He smiles, “Maybe I will, then I can get paid to annoy you.”
You groan playfully, “Y’know what they actually just filled every position so-”
“Oh fuck off!” He laughs, pulling into the packed Canes drive through. 
“Do you know what you want, or?” 
You cut him off, “You have my order memorized by now.”
He holds his hands up defensively, “Hey! For all I know you could’ve picked tonight to branch out.” 
You roll your eyes, “When have I ever branched out with food a day in my life?”
“Fair point…” 
As you sit waiting for the line to move you glance over at Danny, you grab his wrist, examining the rip on his cardigan. “Dude, you need to throw this out, or like go get it fixed.” 
“If you think that little rip is bad just look at this.” He leans forward to show you an even worse rip towards the back of the dark blue cardigan.
“Jesus did something take a bite out of it? You know we sell one that looks a lot like that, I could always get you a new one.” You offer. 
“I like this one, it’s soft. Just let me wear it until it falls apart.”
You sigh, “I think it’s about halfway there, bud.” 
Silence falls over the car again, you scramble for something to fill it. You regret the first words out of your mouth. “So, how are things with Allie?” 
His face sours, he looks down at his lap trying to come up with an answer. “She’s got a new boyfriend…seems like he’s got his shit together, so y’know, that’s uh…good.”
“Shit, dude…” You place your hand on his shoulder, “She’s missing out. You don’t have it all together yet, and that’s fine, but you still have a lot to offer.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “You sound like my grandma,” he sounds amused.
“I still can’t believe she pulled a fucking heist to get her money back…what a legend.”
He laughs, scratching the back of his neck, “I don’t know how she pulled it off still, she’s incredible. God…I was so stressed that whole day.”
“Yeah, I know, you were practically blowing up my phone. But hey, I’d do the same if my grandma pulled something like that.”
He turns to you smiling, “Well if she ever does you have an expert to help you handle it,” he gestures to himself cockily.
“I’m sure you’ll be great at helping me freak out.”
He smacks your thigh playfully, “Hey, be nice if you want me to pay.”
“Right, right, can’t upset my sugar daddy…”
“Fuck off,” he cackles, rolling his eyes.
Once you get your food he starts heading back to your place, you feed him his fries while he drives, the radio playing softly in the background. “It’s a good thing we both got extra sauce, I don’t know why they don’t just sell bottles of this shit already,” you say as you dip another fry into the sauce for him. 
“If they did, I think we’d be enough to keep them in business,” he laughs.
Back at your place Danny makes himself comfortable on your plush couch, it was one your grandma had been nice enough to donate once you got your own apartment, a one bedroom just big enough for you and your cat. You retreat to your room to grab your edibles, a small baggie with candy that looks similar to Airhead Xtremes. You toss the bag into his lap as you plop down next to him, grabbing your Canes box off the coffee table. “Don’t take a lot, you know I’ve never been one to go for a low dose,” you caution. 
“Thanks for the warning, the last time I took some with you I woke up high.”
You laugh at the memory, “You were such a mess that night, I felt so bad.”
He pats your shoulder reassuringly, “It’s fine, I lived, didn’t I?”
“Unless I’m hallucinating you right now, then yeah, you did.” 
He takes his turn feeding you your fries as you scroll through your streaming services to find something to watch. You turn to him, “Are you gonna kill me if I put on Spree again?”
“I might,” he deadpans. 
You click on it anyway, starting the movie and taking a small bite off your edible, Danny doing the same. You lean your head on his shoulder, cuddling up to him like always. He glances down at you with a smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you in closer.
“I’ve missed this…I hate being busy.”
You smile up at him, “I wish I was rich, then I’d have all the time in the world to do whatever I wanted. I’d spend all my days watching movies, annoying the shit out of you. Sounds like a better life to me.”
“Then you could be my sugar daddy.”
You roll your eyes, “I practically am your sugar daddy, I barely let you pay for anything.”
“You shouldn’t do that y’know,” he says softly. “I still live with my parents, I can afford to pay for your stuff. You’re like…an adult, you’ve got bills to pay.” 
“You’ll be in the same boat soon, Danny. Maybe I’ll need a roommate.”
“In a one bedroom?” He asks incredulously. 
“Yeah, you can sleep on the floor. I’m a generous host,” you joke. 
He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You let me sleep in your bed with you every time I stay over but I’ll have to sleep on the floor when I move in?”
“Fine, you can sleep at the end of my bed. Is that better?”
His brows furrow, “Like a dog?”
“Mhm, you can bark, right?”
His cheeks go pink and he stumbles over his words, unable to string together a comprehensible sentence. Eventually just nodding shyly.
You love to see him flustered. You reach out and pet his hair like a dog, “Good boy.” 
You bite your lip at how red he gets. You wonder if Allie ever messed with him like this.
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They dated for a year and yet you feel like you barely know anything about what happened between them. You glance down at his lips. You kissed once, it was junior year. He’d come over after school, muttering a lie to his mom about needing to work on a project. Instead you had managed to get your hands on some bud, fluttering eyelashes and a twenty was all you needed to pay with. Your parents were working late, again, so it made it easy to get away with. He laughed at you, watching you pull up a tutorial on Youtube for how to roll a joint. Laughing even harder when you rolled quite possibly the worst joint in all of history. You smoked together, watching the Jackass series, laughing too hard at every bit. At some point you ended up in his lap, he pulled you into his chest, resting his head on your shoulder. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling playfully at the blonde strands. Your eyes went wide when he whimpered. You pulled his head back, his eyes squeezing shut in pain and…something else. You watch how he bites down on his lower lip to keep quiet, you’ve always thought his teeth were cute, as weird as it sounds. “Danny?” You say his name softly.
He opens his eyes, “Mhm?” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blushes, “I-I’ve never…” He looks away, embarrassed. 
“It’s easy, can I show you?” You ask softly, trying to make sure he’s comfortable.
“Please…” It comes out more pathetic than he intends. 
You pulled him in, kissing him softly, helping him figure out his pace. You want to take it further, but before you can his phone goes off. His embarrassing ringtone blaring, making him jump back, startled. You pull away from him and slide off his lap so he can answer it.
After that you two never spoke of the incident again, but you thought about it constantly. He had a few girlfriends here and there over the years but never any as serious as Allie. You hated her at first, a weird misogynistic jealousy bubbling up. But you got over it, sort of. You were kind to her, you liked her, but the jealousy still lived in you quietly. It gnawed at you every time you saw them put their hands on one another but you kept it to yourself. You wanted Danny to be happy even if it made you feel sick.
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Danny wants to lean in, he wants to kiss you, but he’s nervous. He couldn’t be casual, it wasn’t in his nature. He hadn’t been with anyone since Allie, much less kissed anyone. He felt pathetic, a normal guy his age would kiss you easily. They’d lean in, maybe push your hair behind your ear. But he couldn’t, his hands trembled at the mere thought of it. 
“You look nice tonight,” he says softly, still staring at your lips. He means it, he thinks it’s cute how your mascara has smudged slightly under your eye from a long day at work. 
“You’re sweet…so do you,” you giggle. You reach up and caress his face softly.
“Me? I-I’m a mess, I stayed in bed all day doing school work.”
“Let me compliment you. You’re pretty. I love your eyes and your hair, you even have cute teeth…if you ever get veneers I’ll stop talking to you.”
He laughs, cheeks permanently pink at this point. “It’s sweet you think I can afford veneers.” 
“Can I kiss you?” You blurt out as if you’re back in high school perched on his lap. 
His eyes go wide, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip and pulls you into his lap, your thighs falling onto either side of him. You kiss him softly at first, almost like your kiss from high school, this time less sloppy. Your hand finds his way into his hair, the other gripping the back of the couch. You pull at his hair and deepen the kiss, your hips instinctively roll against his, he whines against your lips. His sweet pathetic sounds are like music to your ears. His hands are on your waist, pulling you down on hip by your belt loops. You roll your hips again and that’s all it takes. He whines loudly, his head knocking against yours. He grips your hips tight, his eyes squeezing shut, hips bucking up as he comes. You caress his face as he comes down from it, you can feel his cheeks heating up. 
“Danny did you just…”
He whines with embarrassment, “Don’t laugh…please.”
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so-i-did-this-thing · 3 months ago
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Hello Nicholas!
I hope this isn't a weird question, but I saw in one of your posts that you used to be in a huge amount of debt and now you're living more comfortably- how did you manage to get out of debt? I feel like every time I start even trying to figure out where to start, it's just all too big to ever get out from under. Do you have any advice for me?
Hope you have a great day!
Hey there! Yes, from about 2007-2010 (before I transitioned), I was making less than $10k/year. I defaulted on all my credit cards, exhausted my retirement, and nearly lost my house. It sucked, and in 2024, I'm finally start to feel somewhat secure. What I learned (assuming living in the US, I also did not have student loan debt):
I had to first figure out the sources of my debt. A big chunk of it was because of bad spending habits due to mental illness (hoarding + retail therapy when I was dysphoric/depressed). Another chunk was from being in an abusive friendship. Another, from being unemployed. And the last, was general capitalism (this was during the housing crisis.)
I started working on improving myself to curb behaviors that led to debt. I started working on my hoarding. I started transition to improve my mental health (had to sell some stuff to afford HRT). It took until 2015 to ditch my abuser, alas.
I started working on new job skills. I swallowed my pride and got an office job after a failed 3-year stint at freelancing. It was shitty, but enough to take care of my income emergencies -- keeping my house out of foreclosure. I got a better job 8 months later. It also sucked and I was in it for 7 years, but eventually changed industries and that's when my career took off. Because with each new job, I've gotten better and better pay.
I started using budgeting software. YNAB is my favorite. I try to account for every single dollar I have.
I started spending smarter. Food was the expense I had the most control over. I went to the salvage grocery store (you can find non-expired stuff if you hunt) and bought the "ugly" produce 1 day away from rotting from the local markets. I actually managed to eat well once I found these grocery stores, and my food bill became a fraction of what it'd been at typical grocery stores. I do wish that I had given food pantries a shot, but I was in denial about my poverty at the time.
I sold a ton of useless crap. I got rid of a good chunk of my nerd "collectibles". I only miss a few things over a decade later.
I negotiated with my debt collectors. I managed to set up payment plans with my credit card companies, condo association, and the IRS. I also did a debt consolidation loan once I qualified and was sure I could commit to the monthly payments. It forced me to be super strict about my budget and for about 5 years I didn't buy much for myself. It sucked, but I cleared a bunch of debt that way.
I got help from my family. I was embarrassed to tell my family about my predicament, but it became impossible to hide. I got help cleaning out my hoard and my mother has gracefully given me generous cash gifts every now and then. Never enough to be life-changing, but enough to give me a mental breather.
I played the credit score game. This one seems counter-intuitive, and requires some self-control about not abusing credit cards. Many people recommend the "snowball" method for paying off cards (pay off your lowest debt asap, then go to the next one), but I went with a "credit utilization" method (bring my highest used cards down to the next utilization level, then move to other cards) so I would see immediate changes in my credit score. What is credit card utilization? It's the percentage of how much of your credit card you're using. A card with a $1,000 limit and $100 on it = 10% utilization. Your credit score changes when you cross the following thresholds: 90%, 70%, 50%, 30%, 10%. Once my credit score started going up past 400 (especially as defaults started falling away), I applied for a secured card. As I started using that better, I applied for a few more cards, then for credit line increases every 6 months. My car insurance rates were tied to my credit score, so as soon as that improved, I switched companies and saved money there.
Mistakes I made:
Being in denial that I was poor. I didn't really look for resources on how to live while in poverty. This hurt me a lot because I ended up neglecting myself out of pride, which made my situation even worse.
Payday loans. I got stuck in the payday cycle for about 8 years. I wish I had sold more stuff or asked family for money to have never needed that initial loan. Once you are in the cycle, it becomes very difficult to get out.
Not going to a food bank.
Not asking for help sooner. And not just financial help.
Not getting out of abusive situations sooner. This is hard, and I sympathize with anyone in a similar position. But if you think it's time to move on, trust your gut - don't sacrifice yourself for people who don't care about you.
Ignoring debt collectors, because I was too afraid to negotiate for a plan. The IRS was so patient with me in the end, even after defaulting twice on plans.
Not considering getting a roommate to reduce costs, or not thinking of doing more things like shared meals with my fellow poor friends. Again, denial and pride. Humility is not a bad word and I wished I had learned it sooner.
Not changing jobs sooner. Curbing my hoarding and getting a better job are responsible for about 90% of me being where I am financially today.
Getting out of debt is a marathon. It took over a decade for me, and I am *still* feeling the sting of poverty. I wish you the best of luck. Folks are welcome to tack on specific tricks and strategies -- this is just a general outline of my particular journey.
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sleepysnk · 2 years ago
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a/n: okay.. i never thought i’d ever write for wakasa, but this idea came to me and i couldn’t let it slide. shoutout to @wakashawty for being the sole reason why i did this. i love you kei bae! 🤍 i hope you guys all enjoy <3
pairings: wakasa imaushi x fem!reader
warnings: modern au, alcohol consumption (wakasa), mentions of harassment, club owner!wakasa, waitress!reader, use of cigarettes, very flirty wakasa, nsfw, smut, fingering, use of pet names (angel, doll, baby, good girl, princess), teasing, brief edging, use of blindfolds, consensual recording, possessive sex, mentions of jealousy, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, choking, mentions of marks.
synopsis: you work as a waitress at the infamous club owned by wakasa imaushi. you hadn’t encountered the man ever in your entire time employed there, but one night you had a chance encounter with the owner looking for something other than your professional service.
the white leopard ft. wakasa imaushi
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The White Leopard.
The infamous club that was located in the downtown of your city, and owned by a man named Wakasa Imaushi. The club had opened its doors just two years prior. It was well known amongst older adults and some older college kids as a hang out spot to get drunk, and hookup with men or women on the weekends. Many fine businessmen from the city often flocked to the place to grab a drink or meet pretty women to tuck away in their beds. With businessmen, came wealthy evenings for the people who worked at the establishment. Some of the bartenders went home with hundred dollar bills in their pockets from how active the nights would be. It was a truly luxurious club, despite what may have gone down on the inside.
You weren’t sure how you managed to snatch a job at the place, but you somehow did. 
You had been employed at The White Leopard for almost six months. One of your friends recommended you the job when she had heard about your termination from your previous job. At first, you thought you were about to become some kind of stripper. The idea of possibly twirling and swinging around on a metal pole made your skin crawl, but when your friend explained that you would be a waitress, that gross feeling dissipated from your mind. You had never worked a server job before. All of your previous positions had to do with retail or working as a barista at your local coffee shop. You had the customer service experience, but being a waitress sounded quite nerve wracking. 
Though, you didn’t have much of a choice. You lived by yourself with bills that had to be paid, and you were also still a college student. There was no possible way that you would be able to support yourself with no job, so you filled out the application and received a call back the next day for an interview. 
After that day, you began working at the fine club. You had heard many people on your university campus boasting about how exhilarating it is to party at The White Leopard, and from working there as long as you did, you could completely understand why they said those things. The place really kept up its reputation. Anytime you stepped inside, you could practically smell the whiff of money and expensive cologne that probably was worth more than your college tuition and rent combined. Being there was great, though. The job was just as you imagined it to be. Taking drink orders, assisting guests with questions, all the usual things a server would take care of. 
The weekdays were always pretty slow. Monday through Thursday were always the days you would go home with the least amount of cash, but occasionally you would have a decent night if there was some kind of important business being held by the businessmen who visited the club. The real action was on Friday and the weekends. Those were the busiest evenings, considering that most people didn’t have work or school to attend the next day. The very first time you worked a Friday night you swore to god that your pockets were overflowing with cash. Your coworker, Yuzuha, had informed you of how easy the men were with money during the night. She was right about that. You’d come back to tables with almost two hundred dollars in tips, sitting right in the center. It was so quick to make money that you never passed on a shift like that again, except if you weren’t placed on the schedule.
While it seemed like paradise, there were downsides to your job.
With being a waitress, came the idiots who never seemed to know how to treat wait staff. You had to deal with all kinds of people and witness all types of things all while at work. There were several occasions where grown men have shouted in your face and called you a whore for not serving their drinks quick enough. Some of the men inside of the club had said disgusting things to you as well. You’ve been harassed frequently by intoxicated guys that just couldn’t take no for an answer. You were thankful that security took care of it, but those kinds of words often lingered inside your mind and made you want to quit altogether. 
The issues didn’t stem from just men, there were also incredibly rude women as well. Many times random girls would accuse you of trying to seduce their boyfriends when you were simply just leaning over to hear them better. The music inside the club was deafening at times, and it didn’t help that some of the tables were directly by huge speakers that made it very difficult to hear the customers. You’ve also had girls dump drinks on you for no apparent reason. As much as you wanted to verbally tell them off, you remembered that you had a job and you weren’t in the mood to get fired. Your manager told you many times that you should never engage in an argument with a customer. It was bothersome, very bothersome, but you always bit your tongue and put a smile on your face. 
Besides some of those negative things, you still kept the job. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Plus, you got to work with some pretty kind people. Your coworkers were the only reason you hadn’t completely abandoned the job all together. That, and the fact that you made lots of money within just one week.
There was one person you had yet to see at your job, and that was the owner. Wakasa Imaushi was his name. 
You had been employed there for six months. Yet, you never had a single encounter with the man who opened the club all that time ago. Some of your coworkers had seen the man before and described him as this intimidating figure who would come in to have a drink or two, then leave with his buddies. Your female coworkers often raved about Wakasa. They said he was very handsome and they had even seen him leave with women from the club. Part of you envied the people you worked with. Seeing Wakasa in all his glory sounded like a total dream. You tried to go to the lengths of finding his social media. Surely a club owner like him would have business profiles, but much to your dismay, there wasn’t a single trace of this man’s existence on the internet. You could understand if he wanted to be private with his life, but not even a proper photograph? It was odd.
Maybe there would be a chance for you to properly meet him, but with his rarity of appearances, that seemed highly unlikely. 
Tonight was a usually busy shift for you. Being that it was a Friday evening, you expected such an exciting atmosphere from the moment you stepped in for work. It was a pretty nice night for you. So far, you had made about three hundred dollars worth of tips. 
Your shift had begun at six thirty and it was already nearing midnight. Your manager informed you that you only had to work for another fifteen minutes or so. You were kind of thankful for that, because the later hours of the night kind of got crazy. That also meant you got to go home early and retire for the evening in your comfortable bed. You had a fairly long day at school. Exams were kicking your ass and with studying and working you hardly had any time to get any shut eye. Tonight had also been pretty tiring, despite nothing serious going down. You still dealt with weird comments from drunk men that couldn’t keep it to themselves.
You were standing in the corner of the club where the cash register was. You had just closed out one of your tables and you were currently counting how much money you had. The clock displayed on your phone screen showed that it was now midnight. You were relieved to know that you would be able to go home soon. Your feet were killing you from the amount of standing and walking you did today. 
Sighing, you placed the cash into the pocket of your blouse. This is usually what you did towards the end of your shifts. You’d just stand in the corner until it was time for you to clock out. Your manager was okay with it, but sometimes he would remind you that not doing anything could get you into trouble. However, why would some drunk man come bombarding you with questions as to why you were standing there. Most of the people in this club came here to do whatever they pleased. You’ll never forget the time you caught two people having sex in the restroom. It was honestly mind blowing, but at least you had a funny story to tell whenever you were out and about with someone. 
You stood there on your cell phone. You scrolled through your socials, smiling at the posts your friends had made. You had the day off tomorrow, so you were pretty excited to make plans with your companions. The semester had been grueling and you were so ready to have a night out with zero stressors weighing on your mind.
“Oh! There you are, (Y/N)!”
You practically fumbled with your phone to shove it into your waistband. The familiar voice of your manager was the reason for your mindless scrolling to be placed on pause. Although he was a nice man, he had a pet peeve for staff using their cellphones in the middle of their shifts. There were a few times you had gotten caught on the job and you’d rather not get fired for something as small as a cellphone issue, so you listened to the man. “O-Oh, hey, Kakucho, what’s up?” you shifted around, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being caught by him.
The man placed his hand on his hip. He seemed rather unamused by seeing you on your phone, but that wasn’t much of a concern to him at the moment. He had a much greater worry at hand, and he needed your assistance with that. “I know this might be a lot to ask.. but can you stay a little longer? We have a guest coming and it’s important we have someone on the ready when he arrives.” he looked down at you, seeming desperate for your presence to remain at the club. “He’s quite.. a significant individual.” 
A sense of dread washed over you at his words. You were exhausted. You were surprised that you didn’t possibly fall asleep in the break room. Kakucho had asked you to do this many times before. Any time there was a big figure coming to The White Leopard, he’d ask a select few of servers to stick around after their shifts. You were used to that question being proposed often, but tonight? He must have been desperate, considering Yuzuha and Emma had been still there. He even gave you the go ahead to leave early, so that felt kind of unfair to you. It was almost like Kakucho was playing some sick joke on you to poke fun at you. All you wanted to do was go home and rest. If he would have asked another evening, sure, but tonight? It seemed out of the question.
You sighed, looking up at your manager with obvious frustration. Kakucho could easily see it in your expression. “I’m exhausted.. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but still. You also told me I could head home early, so why the sudden change of heart?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 
Kakucho combed his fingers through his jet-black hair. He understood your feelings of tiredness and desire to go home for the evening. He also did have a sense of guilt for informing you earlier that you could leave early, but he wasn’t expecting to receive a phone call from Shinichiro so late in the night. It was a rare occasion. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), it’s just Yuzuha and Emma are booked with tables right now. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a single one, and I’d rather provide the utmost service for our guest.” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I promise you’ll be paid extra for this.. I just really need you right now. I’ll even give you the entire weekend off.” 
You wondered if staying behind would be a good idea. Your eyes wandered to your coworkers who were practically bouncing around the lively club with drinks in their hands. Kakucho was right. Yuzuha and Emma had their hands full with customers, and your departure would only build onto the stress they were experiencing. It would be very unfair for you to completely dip without at least offering some help. Kakucho also promised more money on your next check and the entire weekend off. 
Sighing, you averted your gaze onto your employer who seemed a little antsy. You could read him like a book and his body language was the words inside it. It made you wonder who this guest was. “Fine.. I’ll stay.” his face lit up with relief, but also excitement at your response. “But, who’s the guest? Is it Hanma Shuji again?” 
“No, um, it’s Wakasa Imaushi.”
All of your blood went cold at the name that rolled off of Kakucho’s lips. Wakasa Imaushi was making an appearance tonight? And you had to be the one who served him and whoever else came with him? Your heart rate began to spike at the thought of waiting his table. You had been working this job for months and you honestly still felt like you were a newbie at times. Sure, you had served highly entitled men like Hanma Shuji or even Manjiro Sano at one point, but the club’s owner? That’s something you never imagined you’d have the opportunity to do. You had heard plenty of stories from your coworkers, but even that didn’t give you enough confidence. What if he was a poor customer to you? You had heard plenty of horror stories from other waitresses on owners who were complete assholes to the staff because of their status. What if Wakasa was the same? You would hate to possibly make a negative impression on the man who owned The White Leopard.
You tried to look on the bright side. Your coworkers had never said anything pessimistic about the man, and you guys often spoke about your negative experiences with customers. If Wakasa was one of those bad apples, you would have surely heard about it by now. Though, that was their experiences, not yours. He could be a complete jackass for all you knew.
Trying to calm yourself, you looked at Kakucho who was still staring at you. He seemed to be waiting for your reply about his mention of Wakasa swinging by the club. You weren’t sure what there was to say, but you had to come up with something. “Wakasa..?! Kakucho, can’t you ask one of the other girls? I don’t even know what he likes or what he’s even like as a person!” you started to panic a little, despite not wanting to. You didn’t like the idea of serving a man you had never met before. 
Kakucho placed his hands onto your shoulders. He could sense your anxiety and wanted to make sure you were relaxed before Wakasa arrived. The last thing he’d want is for you to have a meltdown and risk embarrassing yourself in front of the man. He had lots of confidence in you. “Hey, don’t panic, okay? Just treat him like a regular customer. All of his drinks are being pre made right now, so you just have to introduce yourself and just serve his drinks. He’s not a bad guy, (Y/N). Just play it casual,” he rubbed his thumbs on your skin, which somewhat calms you down. Though, that furious beat of your heart was making itself known within your chest.
You shook your head, feeling stupid enough to accept his offer of staying late. In all honesty, you should have just lied to Kakucho and said you had a headache so he’d let you leave. It didn’t seem like there was any other choice, nor could you go back now. Wakasa was on his way, and you doubted Kakucho would let you go after this. It didn’t matter how hard you may have protested. “Ugh.. fine, just let me know when he arrives.” you glanced over at the multi-colored strobe lights that danced along the walls. 
He nodded at you, tapping your arm as a way to reassure you that everything would be fine. “You got it. Thank you again for this. Wakasa will be here in a few minutes.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see his messages. 
He then turned and left you there, disappearing into the darkness of the club. You let out an anxious sigh and rubbed your hands on your temples. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you right now. To be honest, you didn’t think your evening would have been like this. You thought that you would have gone back to your apartment and crashed into your bed with a nice day upcoming tomorrow. You never imagined that you would be serving Wakasa Imaushi of all people. Hell, you didn’t even know what the hell he looked like. For all you knew, Wakasa could be this forty year old man who would call you a dumb brat for not bringing his drink fast enough. You really hoped that wasn’t who he was. 
You stood there for a while. Well, it felt like you had been there for a while, but in reality only three minutes had gone by. You disliked feeling anxious over crap this small. Kakucho told you to treat him like a regular customer, but that was difficult considering that Wakasa wasn’t just an ordinary person. He owned The White Leopard. It wasn’t like he was the son of the owner or something. You had to play it cool and be as proper as you possibly could. Any kind of slip up or inappropriate action could lead to your job being lost within the snap of a finger. You prayed and prayed that it would go smoothly, and he’d be a respectful man.
Ugh, you were going insane.
Your head instantly turned when you felt a palm connect with your shoulder. Your eyes were faced with the sight of Kakucho who seemed a little more stern now. He must have been nervous as well. Sure, he was your boss, but Kakucho’s boss was probably Wakasa. “He’s here.. those three drinks are his.” your eyes shifted towards the bar where there were three different glasses sitting on a tray. “He’s in the fourth booth on the main floor. Make sure to introduce yourself and bring the drinks with you. If he asks for me, you grab me immediately, okay?”
You swallowed thickly at Kakucho’s descriptive instructions. This was serious shit now. You were about to encounter the owner you had never come across in your life. “Okay.. I will.” you then walked past your manager and stepped towards the bar where the trio of drinks were. Your eyes settled on the glasses that were sweating from the condensation. The beverages almost seemed equivalent, considering their color was the exact same. It had to be some kind of rich whisky, judging by the odor of the alcohol. You were never really a fan of those stronger liquors. They made your mouth burn and it was just too heavy for your taste.
You took in a deep breath, then lifted the tray with the drinks on them. Your body turned around and began to walk towards the main floor of the club. You tried your best to not tremble or shake the tray in your hands, because you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of Wakasa. You also didn’t want to lose your employment because of some stupid mistake. You were silently telling yourself that you’d be okay and all you had to do was serve them every so often. There was no conversation, small talk, none of that. You just had to be polite and do your job as a waitress. 
You reached the stairs that led to the main floor of the club. The amount of bodies in the room began to increase now. The music had also become louder since the DJ was centered on the main floor. Many people passed by you as you stepped down the stairs. The aroma’s ranged from cheap perfume to the thick smell of marijuana. It was amazing what people could get away with in such a luxurious club. You would think the rules would be more strict, but it was far from that. 
“Fourth booth on the main floor.”
Your eyes scanned the many booths that were pressed against the right wall of the club. People who usually came in trios or groups often sat in those spots. There were already multiple abundances of people who had occupied those seats. You counted each one inside your brain until your eyes halted on the fourth booth. You weren’t sure which one was Wakasa, but the men sitting in the booth intimidated you to all hell. It made you hesitate for a brief second, but you had to do your job. You sucked in a breath and walked over to the table where the three men were sitting. As soon as you stood in front of the table, their conversation halted and they stared at you with those eyes. 
You took in the sight of the three. The man on the far left had jet-black hair that somewhat covered his eyes. A silver chain was hung around his neck and he wore a plain white button up shirt with dark pants. He seemed much friendlier compared to the other two. 
The man in the middle was the real eye catcher in your opinion. He had blonde and violet hair that was thrown up in a ponytail. Two thick strands of his hair hung over his eyes like a curtain. His eyes were lazy and the color of amethyst. There was a cigarette that was tucked between his teeth. The end was smoldering and seemed to be just recently lit. There were a plethora of tattoos that painted his arms and upwards on his chest. His outfit consisted of a similar one to the man to his left. A white button up and black pants. The only difference was he wore a tie, while the other didn’t. He had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever laid your eyes upon. There was this mysterious aura that seemed to be attached to the man sitting in front of you. Could that be.. Wakasa Imaushi? You had no idea. 
The man on your right was much bigger than the two men beside him. He had muscles that practically bulged out of the black button up shirt he was wearing. If he moved the wrong way, you were certain one of the buttons might fly off and hit someone in the head. He had a beard that was the same exact color of his pale hair. He seemed very menacing compared to the other two men. He seemed like the kind of guy who could crush your skull in if you stared at him the wrong way.
Snapping out of your mini analysis, you picked up the drinks one by one off of the tray. You leaned down and placed them each in front of the men sitting before you. “Hi there, welcome in! My name is (Y/N). I hope you all are having a great evening. If you need anything, I’ll be your server for tonight!” you tucked the small tray underneath your arm, trying your absolute best to seem unphased by their appearance. You had met plenty of attractive men inside The White Leopard before, but this was something else.
The male who sat in the center of the booth leaned forward. His sleeves were rolled up, giving you a whole view of the ink that trailed up his forearms. He stuck out his hand in your direction, looking up at you. “Wakasa Imaushi, pleasure to meet you.” his voice was smooth like butter. It sent chills ghosting down your spine from how nice it settled within your ears. You were right about him. “These are my friends, Shinichiro Sano and Keizo Arashi, but you can just call him Benkei for short.”
You made eye contact with him for a brief second, but immediately shifted your gaze away. His hues were so pretty, but the way he looked at you made your body feel hot. Wakasa Imaushi was what every woman cracked him up to be. He had to be a model or something with how perfect his features were. His smaller nose, lips that were just the perfect shade of pink, and eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. What a man. You reached forward, shaking his hand. His palm felt soft and quite warm against your chilled one. “It’s an h-honor to meet you, Mr.Imaushi!” you internally yelled at yourself for stuttering in front of such a high individual. You hoped deep down he didn’t notice your fumble of words.
Wakasa chuckled at your politeness. Not many people addressed him as “Mr.Imaushi” except for other coworkers, but seeing it from one of the staff was a surprise. He hadn’t met many people like that before, so it easily caught his attention. “Please, no need to be formal. Just call me Wakasa,” he reassured, removing his hand from yours to hold the glass that sat just a few inches from his body. “Thank you for your service. If we need anything, we’ll be sure to look for you, doll.”
You almost choked on your own saliva when the word “doll” slipped from his lips. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but also from being incredibly flustered with how kind he was to you. You weren’t sure if this was possibly a facade he had thrown on, but it was making you melt. In all honesty, you could listen to this man sweet talk you all damn day. He was quite the charmer. “O-Of course! I’ll be around!” you gave one more smile, then began to walk away from the table. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest from what had gone down. Wakasa completely blew you away from just a few sentences. Did he understand his impacts on women? 
You walked up the steps that led to where the bar was. In the distance, you could see Yuzuha in the corner where the tablet was to register tables and take care of bills. She seemed to be counting some of the cash in her fingertips. You made your way over to her and she instantly noticed your presence beside her. “Hey! I thought you left already. Are you clocking out right now?” she nodded her head to the side.
You reached over to type in your passcode for the tablet. You remembered Kakucho being very serious about entering your tables at the proper time. “Kakucho made me stay.. and you’ll never guess who the hell I’m serving right now.” you tapped the screen a few times to enter the drinks into the bill. You weren’t too sure on if Wakasa and his friends were going to pay for what they ordered, but you’d make sure to double check with Kakucho because it would seem rude to bring a bill to the same man who owned the club.
Yuzuha’s eyebrow arched at your words. She didn’t know of any important people coming to The White Leopard that night, so it seemed rather intriguing to her. “Who? Is it someone high up?” she questioned, sounding curious.
You moved your arm away and placed it on the small table underneath you. “It’s Wakasa Imaushi..” you replied, which shocked Yuzuha.
She was genuinely caught off guard by the owner’s sudden presence at the club. Yuzuha had been working there longer than you have, but she had never had the chance to properly serve Wakasa due to his infrequency of presentation at the place. She was well aware of what he was like to the other staff. Most claimed he was respectful and usually tipped pretty well, but she had yet to see the man in full action. “What?! No way! That’s awesome, I bet he’s a great guy considering what he does.” she tapped your arm to try and excite you. “He scares me though.. I could never serve him without dropping the drinks on the floor.” 
You had to agree with her there. So far, Wakasa seemed like a pleasant individual. There haven’t been any red flags and you usually picked up on customer’s vibes whenever they first sat down, but his didn’t seem bad whatsoever. His friends also didn’t look too harsh either. “Yeah, I almost lost it when I walked over to his table, but otherwise he’s been fine. I just have to keep an eye on him..” you quickly darted your head outside of your corner to see if there was that “look” on their faces, but as far as you could see, his friends seemed content in their spots. 
Your coworker giggled at your reply. Yuzuha leaned against the wall for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. It had been a long evening for her as well. She made good money, but she was physically exhausted with all of the running around she had to do. “I’m wishing you serious luck, (Y/N). I have almost four tables right now and I don’t think they’ll leave until we close..” she rubbed her tired eyes with her hands. 
You could honestly feel her pain. There were times where you didn’t leave until almost four in the morning because the customer’s you were serving just kept ordering drinks like they were food. It was an annoying experience because you lost out on so much needed sleep, and you didn’t wake up until noon the next day. You hoped that deep down Wakasa wasn’t the same way. If he was, you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of this club. “I’m wishing you luck too, Yuzuha!” you gave her a thumbs up, then poked your head out once again to check on the things at your table. 
Confusion settled within you when you saw that both of Wakasa’s companions had somehow disappeared. They were no longer in their seats and it made you grow worried. You doubted that this was a “drink and dash” type of situation, but you prayed that they weren’t out and about looking for you since you had departed earlier. There was an occasion about four months in which a man came storming up to you all because you didn’t come by fast enough with his drink. You were lucky that Yuzuha’s brother, Hakkai, was there to come to your defense over the matter. That thought alone worried you. It risked many things, and you didn’t want to be at fault for not paying proper attention to your table.
Your vision shifted to Yuzuha who was seemingly looking around at the bar. She was waiting for some of her drinks to be made at the moment. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back.” you said, nodding your head in the opposite direction. 
You then began making your way to where Wakasa’s booth was. Nervousness coursed through your veins as you grew closer to where he was. Your fingers couldn’t help but toy with the white leopard that was embroidered on your onyx colored skirt. Your worst fear right now was being scolded by Wakasa himself. You had only walked away for a good three or four minutes. It’d be even more alarming if you had disappeared for longer than that, but you remembered Kakucho explaining to you that you had to be on top of your service when it came to Wakasa. It was understandable. Could you have messed up already? You worried Kakucho was going to find out and potentially terminate your employment. 
Once you made it to the main floor, your feet moved quickly to the booth where Wakasa was sitting. Relief hit you like a truck when your eyes landed on the man who was still in the direct center of the table. He was still present, but that same question remained. Where were his buddies? 
Wakasa picked up on your presence expectantly. He could sense some distress in your body language, which perplexed the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about in his opinion. Though, it was somewhat worrying on his part. His club was always heavily guarded by high profile men, but there have been a few occasions where something unfortunate had gone down. “Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Wakasa questioned, placing his cigarette into the ashtray that was a few inches away from him.
His inquiry made your eyes focus on him. One thing about Wakasa was that he had this stare that made your body feel like it was burning. It was like he was studying you and his eyes were penetrating the deepest areas of you. You could hardly maintain eye contact without your heart leaping outside of your chest. He was attractive, so fucking attractive. It was still hard to believe that this was the man who owned The White Leopard. He was dreamy. You could get lost with him right in front of you. 
However, you remembered that he asked you a question. You must have been staring for far too long, because Wakasa seemed to be a little confused by your silence. “U-Uh! Yes! I’m sorry, Wakasa.. I was just worried when I didn’t see your friends with you.” you tried to sound as apologetic as possible, because you probably looked like a fucking weirdo. 
He chuckled, eyeing you up and down. He reached over and patted the empty spot that was to the right of him. “Come.. have a seat.” he then  grabbed his drink which was now almost completely empty. 
You were stunned at his request to have you sit with him. Usually, Kakucho never allowed the staff to sit down with any of the customers. It didn’t matter if the person was a friend or if they were family, it was prohibited. It was also implemented due to the harassment from the men who would come in. Some of them would try and coax you into sitting with them, or they’d try making you sit on their lap. It was a very uncomfortable thing that you had experienced many times, but you almost always declined. It was disgusting and you weren’t sure who the hell raised those men, but it must have been the wrong person. 
Would it be unprofessional to have a seat with Wakasa? He was asking you to join him in the booth, but there was the chance that this was a test to see if you’d actually go through with it. You cleared your throat to sound assertive in your words. “Forgive me, but it’s unprofessional for me to do so. My manager doesn’t allow it..” you placed your hands in front of you, hoping he didn’t have a negative reply to you. There was that chance he’d start yelling at you and making a whole scene. 
Wakasa’s expression shifted the moment he heard you. You were good. He wouldn’t care if you sat down, but you were very loyal to your rules and followed orders properly. Though, he didn’t find such a thing inappropriate by any means. He didn’t see you tending to any other tables or customers, so why not? He was also the owner of the club. He wasn’t going to get you into any trouble if you sat with him. If anything, he wanted you there. “Hm.. you seem to follow the rules, which is a good thing.” he took a brief sip of the alcohol in his glass, swallowing it without a second thought. “However, you won’t get in trouble. Kakucho won’t bat an eye with me here, so by all means have a seat. Though, you’re not obligated if you aren’t comfortable with it.” 
Your mouth fell slightly agape at his replies. You were certain that this was a test of some kind, but thank god it wasn’t. Now, you were left with two options. Sit with Wakasa, or completely decline the offer and go back to your little corner and be a shy little waitress. Either or sounded great! But, did they really?
This was Wakasa Imaushi of all people. He was actually inviting you to sit down with him. Your coworkers never mentioned him being this polite, so you wondered what his motives were. Maybe you caught him on a good night and he was in a greater mood than usual. It was still a really interesting request, but maybe you could do this just once. He was right about one thing. Kakucho wouldn’t say a single word if he saw you with Wakasa, so you could technically get away with it. 
Fuck it.
You pulled your skirt down just a bit, then sat down beside him. Your reason being that you didn’t want the thing riding up when you stood up the next time. 
Sitting just a few inches away, Wakasa stared at you with that lazy expression. He smirked briefly then took another swig of his drink. You caught on to the looks he was giving you, and it suddenly made you nervous once again. It felt like he was trying to seduce you with those expressions. The aroma of his expensive cologne intoxicated you. It was quite divine and it made these heat pool from your stomach towards your core. You shouldn’t have been thinking of such things about him, but how could you not? He was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid your eyes upon. You were certain any woman in your position would think the same about him. 
Wakasa placed his now empty drinking glass down on the table. He tilted his head to place all of his focus onto you. His eyes drank in the sight of your appearance. You were quite beautiful to the man. The swell of your breasts was briefly exposed through the top of your shirt, and your thighs looked quite nice in the skirt you wore. “Would you like a drink? It’d be my treat!” he raised an eyebrow, placing his elbows onto the table.
Your eyes grew wide at his proposal. There hadn’t been many attractive men to offer you a drink. You usually turned them down due to it being not allowed, but you weren’t really interested in having a drink that night. You were on shift and you had to drive yourself home too. It wouldn’t be a good idea. If it were any other night, you would have said yes. You wondered how many women had the opportunity to receive a drink from Wakasa of all people. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. I have to drive and I’m pretty exhausted, so drinking may not be a great idea. Thank you again, though.” you tried to sound polite, because you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea from you. 
Wakasa nodded his head. He completely understood your reasoning. He wouldn’t press that matter any longer, but he would have loved to buy you a drink some time. “Smart girl, I like that.” he reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small rectangular box. It was clearly a pack of cigarettes. “So, how long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you before, and I’d usually notice if there was a pretty woman serving people around here.” 
Your heart began to thump rapidly inside of your chest. Was he.. flirting with you? 
There was no way he was trying to do that. He probably did that with every woman he encountered to charm them. Sure, you’d take the compliment, but it was quite shocking that he’d be so direct with you. You liked a straightforward man, but this was a lot for you to handle. 
Maybe it had to do with the fact that Wakasa was in fact the owner of this club. He had a business and he was extremely respected among the people who came here. As well as your boss and your other coworkers. You would have expected a man who owned such a fine business to be reserved and quiet. That’s how a majority of them were when you encountered them. They were all married or were engaged, so it only made sense for them to never show special attention to other women. However, Wakasa’s ringer finger was completely blank, and he seemed quite young compared to the older gentlemen you would usually see. That didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing anyone, though, but he could have a girlfriend. Though, that made another question appear in your mind. Why flirt if you weren’t single? Maybe he was a cheater? No, there was no way. You were clearly overthinking this. 
You also hadn’t been in a relationship for a pretty long time. You had men flirt with you before, but none of them had the same vibe as Wakasa. This was much different than what you’ve ever experienced. 
You watched him take out his lighter and ignite the cigarette he held between his lips. Your nose twitched at the scent of the smoke filling your nostrils. “I’ve been here for six months..” you looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze which was set on you.
He shook his head, processing the information you had given him. He was surprised to hear that you had been there for that long. He had never seen your face before. He assumed that you must have been a new hire, but you weren’t. “Oh? Interesting.. has your experience been swell? I’d sure hope so,” he took a hit of his cancer stick, blowing smoke through his nose. “What time are you off the clock, by the way?”
You began to fumble with your fingers. You hated being obviously nervous around him, but you worried about possibly slipping up and saying the wrong thing to Wakasa. Kakucho often reminded you that first impressions meant everything, especially to the man who owned The White Leopard. He also intimidated you. It could sound mean, but his presence scared you more than any other man. It probably had to do with the high amount of superiority he had above you. “It’s been okay! It’s a great job! I like it here a lot..” your eyes flickered from his eyes to your hands. “And.. um, I’m pretty much off when you leave the club? I’m not sure..”
A laugh came from his mouth, which alarmed you. You really hoped that it wasn’t sarcasm. You didn’t mean for it to come out in a rude manner, but what if he took it that way? Oh, shit. You could have completely fucked this entire interaction up. “Ah, I see. Well I’m glad you’re liking this job. I believe fine dime’s like yourself deserve the princess treatment.” he winked, showing off that teasing smirk from prior. “With that being said, I’d like the check, angel.”
A frown settled on your features at the mention of wanting the bill. You figured that meant that he was planning on leaving the club, which was disappointing. In all honesty, you wanted to converse with him a bit more before he’d make his departure. Maybe you thought too much of his nicknames and his words. He was probably just trying to swoon you. “O-Okay! I’ll come right back with that for you!” you then stood up, brushing out any wrinkles from your skirt and leaving the booth. You didn’t notice, but Wakasa had completely eyed your backside from head to toe. 
You made your way to the small corner where the register was. Many people were just now entering the club, which made you pray for Yuzuha and Emma who were planning to stay the entire evening. You eventually made it to the tablet and printed out the small bill. It was surprising. He and his friends had only ordered three drinks the entire night. It was almost like they didn’t even enjoy their time there, but you weren’t going to question their sudden need for leaving. It did give you the chance to finally head on home and get some much needed rest. You were exhausted and that familiar ache in your heels was paining you. 
Grabbing the receipts, you took a small black pen from the cup next to the tablet. You then began to walk over to the booth where Wakasa was still sitting. This time, he was on his cell phone. He seemed to be typing a text to somebody. He noticed you standing there instantly and lifted his head to pay attention to you. “There you are, angel, thank you.” he said, taking the receipts and the pen from your shaky hands. “You were a doll tonight, thank you for being so great at what you do.” 
Your heart fluttered at such a compliment from the man. Not many people would say nice things about your service, so it was reassuring and quite comforting to hear such things every once and a while. “T-Thank you! It means a lot coming from you..” you gave a smile to him, which didn’t feel forced for once tonight.
Wakasa signed the bill, then proceeded to take his wallet out of his pocket. He removed many bills from it, and you were surprised to see that he carried so much cash on him. Once he was done, he placed his wallet back and then stood up to hand you the money. “This is for the drinks..” he handed you one twenty dollar bill. “And this is for you.. have a great night, doll.” 
Your eyes went almost as wide as saucers when you saw the amount of cash you had between your fingers. He gave you a tip. A tip that was well over the usual twenty percent that you were used to. He tipped you one hundred and ten dollars. You were about to turn around and protest, but he was gone. There was a single sign of his presence anywhere. You couldn’t believe he had actually given you that much money. This had to be the biggest tip you had ever received in your entire time working at the club. Sometimes, you didn’t even receive the full twenty percent, but this completely blew you away. You were well aware that he tipped his servers pretty nicely, but you didn’t think it was this nice. You didn’t even know how to react.
Coming to your senses, you realized you had a lot of money in your hands. You then walked away from the now empty booth towards the stairs that led to the tablet. It had been a pretty successful evening for you, and you had zero complaints about any of it. Now, it was time for you to head out and go home. You assumed that Kakucho was aware of Wakasa’s dismissal, so you figured your time here was finished for the night. 
Once you reached the corner, you cleared his table and closed it out for the night. You couldn’t believe the evening you had, but you surely were excited to tell your friends about it tomorrow when you saw them. It’d be an interesting story to mention. 
You were ready to place the receipt into your pocket, but you paused when you noticed there was something written on it. It wasn’t just his signature, but there was other writing on the top of the space. You flipped the piece of paper so you could read it properly. It was surprising that you didn’t notice him writing it down when you saw him sign for the check, but maybe you missed it and looked away at the wrong moment. 
“Meet me upstairs in the private rooms. Say I asked for you. I’m in the room all the way in the back on the right. Only come if you’re comfortable <3”
The private rooms.
There had been a few occasions where you had to head up to the private rooms. The only reason for your presence being there was because of high profile businessmen being there for their own pleasure. Nobody was allowed back there except if you were staff, or if you were a part of the group. It was highly guarded by security and they often questioned you whenever you brought drinks back there. Even Kakucho informed you that if you were back there you had to be quick. It was kind of odd at times, because it wasn’t that serious to you, but you were also curious about them. 
You never really knew what went on back there, because their conversations were usually very professional and never made sense to you. Hakkai theorized it was all mafia related and The White Leopard was some kind of money laundering scheme, but Yuzuha usually shut that down with a quick smack to his head. You heard from others that it’s where the men came to have sex and indulge in drugs and drinking, but you never really knew. 
All you were aware of was that you had been invited back there by Wakasa himself, but what did he want? 
The idea of this possibly being a hookup crossed your mind. It made your face warm with embarrassment and it made you nervous. This was a random man, no, this was the man who practically was the reason why you had employment. Sleeping with him sounded like a serious stretch, but could he want that? You didn’t know, but you despised the fact that your brain was telling you to go. Maybe he wanted to have a drink since you were now technically off the clock.
Your eyes scanned the entire club. Your other coworkers seemed completely out of sight, and there was no sign of Kakucho. You decided to go with your gut.
Go and meet with Wakasa.
You clocked out before you left, then made your way towards the corridor that led to the large door that would take you to the private rooms. Your heart beat was through the roof now. You worried that someone had seen you come back there, because you weren’t supposed to be back there without permission. However, you had to relax. You had the receipt with Wakasa’s signature and his note allowing you access to those rooms. If security wanted to make an issue, you had your proof ready for them if they asked for it. 
The loud blare of the music began to fade in your ears, and it became much quieter as you entered the hallway. There were two large men standing on either side of the door. The word “private” was written above the door in large bold letters. The two security men noticed your presence and sort of straightened up their posture to seem more intimidating to you. Kind of a lame tactic considering you never really feared them. 
You paused when you reached the entrance of the rooms. One of the men’s eyes trailed up your form, then cocked his head to the side. “Can we help you?” he asked, his voice deep.
You swallowed thickly, looking up at the two guards. You prepared yourself to reach for the receipt that was tucked within your waistband. You really hoped that neither of these two would report this to Kakucho. You kinda wanted whatever this was to be somewhat private. It wouldn’t be a good look if someone heard about you meeting up with Wakasa. “W-Wakasa asked for me,” you clasped your hands together in hopes that they would believe your words. 
Both security men exchanged glances with one another. The man on the right turned and opened the door. “Right this way,” he held the door slightly ajar for you. 
You were quite surprised that it was that easy to get into there. The men didn’t ask for any proof or identification. You would think that if Wakasa was back there, the men would tear you apart with questions. Did he inform them of your possible arrival to the private rooms? You wouldn’t be that shocked, but it seemed a little odd. You didn’t protest, though, because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to have access to the rooms. 
You walked through the door. The atmosphere had a sudden shift when you stepped through the entrance. There was a long hallway with all kinds of rooms on each side. You had been inside of them before, but those encounters never really lasted long. The door behind you shut with a thud, and all you were left with was the soft beat of the song that played through the speakers above you. You were now towards the back of the club, so the only other sound you could hear was the vibration of the other music that played on the main floor. You were nervous. You hoped that you didn’t possibly run into some random person. You chewed on your bottom lip, hoping the best from the situation. 
Taking a deep breath, you began slowly walking down the hall. 
You passed by many closed doors. Behind them, you could hear the muffled voices of the people who were inside the rooms. You vaguely recalled Wakasa saying he was at the end of the hall on the right. It made you anxious not knowing what might lie behind that door. Wakasa could be messing with you for all you know. You had to try and think positive. Wakasa was a very kind man to you the entire evening. You found it hard to believe that his intentions would be anything but pure with you. Plus, you weren’t alone in this hallway. If there was a problem, you could always just scream your head off until security arrived. You also knew bad vibes. You didn’t receive them when it came to Wakasa of all people.
You paused in your footsteps once you reached the end of the corridor. You lifted your hand to knock on the vanilla colored door. 
Knock! 
It was noiseless for a moment. You wondered if you were too late by chance, but those thoughts diminished when you heard shuffling from the other side of the door. You prepared yourself for what was to come. 
The doorknob jiggled lightly, then it was pulled open. Your eyes focused on the same man you saw just a few minutes prior. Wakasa stood inside the room with that same expression he wore before. Though, that soon shifted when his eyes fixated on you. He smirked when he made eye contact with you. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to arrive within such a short period of time, but he was happy to see you. He was also somewhat relieved that you weren’t uncomfortable with his actions. He hadn’t done such a thing before. He thought for a while you’d toss out the receipt and laugh it off, but he was thankful that wasn’t the case. “Hey, angel, nice to see you here.” he leaned against the doorframe with that same grin. “Come inside..”
Goosebumps flared onto your skin at how sultry his tone was. He sounded sort of flirty, but you had to keep your composure straight. You nodded your head and advanced forward into the same room Wakasa was in. 
The room was quite large and spacious. There was a lengthy couch that stretched along the wall and a coffee table that sat directly in the center of the room. A cup of whisky was the only item that was on the glass. The lights were quite dim and the same soft music played through the speakers. There was a faint odor of cigarettes that lingered through the air as well. You assumed he had been smoking since he had a pack with him much earlier in the night. Wakasa was the only person in the room. You were half expecting Shinichiro and Benkei to be there, but they were still nowhere to be found. You had assumed they were somewhere in the club still.
Your ears perked when the door was shut behind you. Wakasa had then shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. You noticed that his tie was now somewhat loosened, and his sleeves were still rolled up. God, he was so handsome. He had to be straight from heaven itself. 
Wakasa walked past you to the chocolate brown couch that was beside you. He plopped down, allowing the ponytail behind his head to swing from the motion. He lifted his glass that contained his whisky. “Feel free to have a seat, doll. No need to be tense,” he took a sip of the alcohol, then swirled the glass around which made the ice cubes clink against it. 
You nodded, then walked over to the couch he was sitting on. You decided to sit right beside him. You began to grow curious as to what he called you in there for. There were many possibilities swirling inside your mind, but none of them could be decided. He seemed just as casual as he was before when he was sitting inside the booth. Though, this time, there seemed to be a shift in the air. It was like there was some kind of tension circling within the two of you. You didn’t know what the reason was for it, but maybe he read your thoughts when you were sitting with him. Did he know you thought he was attractive? There was no way. You played it very casually and quite proper. “So.. um, what did you want to talk about? I was just wondering since these rooms are private..” you crossed your legs, trying to get comfortable on the leather couch. 
Wakasa shifted his gaze onto where you were sitting. Those familiar feelings from before began to creep up onto you once again. He had these seductive eyes that made your thighs squeeze together. “You piqued my interest.. and I think you’re a very beautiful woman. I could hardly keep my eyes off of you the entire night..” he maintained eye contact with you, causing your body to heat up once again.
A shiver ghosted down your spine. The atmosphere suddenly changed once again, and it was beginning to feel intense. It was blatantly obvious that Wakasa was flirting with you, and hard. Your body was screaming for you to just lean in and let this man have you, but Wakasa was practically your boss. He owned that club and what would happen if you two slept together? If that kind of secret were to slip through the cracks, you could possibly lose your job and it wouldn’t do so well for your reputation and Wakasa’s. You knew what he wanted to do, but could you even bring yourself to agree? Sure, you were more than welcome to hooking up, but would he keep it a secret? He could gladly expose you if he wanted to.
You turned your body so you were now facing him. His eyes kept leaving your face and focusing on random parts of your body. He was so captivated by your beauty that he had no idea where to stare. “Wakasa.. I think you’re handsome as well.. but how can I trust you? I could get into serious trouble and I don’t think I want this to be public knowledge..” you sounded very concerned, which worried Wakasa. He wasn’t trying to sound pushy with you whatsoever. 
He understood your concerns completely. You were right in some aspects. If he spoke about it, you could deal with serious consequences and he didn’t want to be responsible for you being possibly fired. He wanted good things for you, not bad ones. Wakasa wanted to assure you that he could be trusted. He’d never place you in such a position. “(Y/N).. you won’t lose your job while I’m here. I would never share such personal details either.. you can trust me.” he reached over and held your hand, brushing his thumb over your smooth skin. “I promise, doll.” 
His tone seemed rather trusting and sincere from your view. You also wouldn’t get an experience like this ever again, so you shook your head. You knew you were about to indulge in something that you couldn’t go back from, but his presence alone was making your body buzz with excitement and need. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you gave his hand a firm squeeze to assert yourself.
He was happy to hear that you were willing to put your faith into him. He then patted the spot on his lap for you to take a seat on. “Come here..” he motioned for you to come towards him, to which you gladly obliged.
You maneuvered yourself onto Wakasa’s thighs, placing your arms around his neck. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t nervous to be on him like that. His body was so warm against your own and his muscles were so well defined underneath his dress shirt. You could hardly look at him without feeling flustered. This was honestly hard to believe. You were about to have sex with Wakasa Imaushi. If this was a dream, you were praying to god that you wouldn’t wake up before you got to the good part. He was so attractive up close. His features were flawless and quite dreamy. How could a man like this not have a woman by his side? He was better than you ever imagined him to be. 
One of his hands rested around your waist while the other was placed against your thigh. He began to trail up your leg, leaving sparks to snap against your delicate skin. He then began to kiss your neck. His lips were smooth and the pecks were quite soft. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart when you felt his hand trailing closer towards your center. Wakasa hadn’t expected you to become so needy that fast, but he didn’t have a problem with that at all. 
He nipped at your sweet spot, causing a whimper to escape your throat. Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you made those lewd noises because of him. “You like that, baby..?” he asked in a low tone. “If you ever want me to stop.. just say the word..” 
Your grip on his shirt tightened at every minuscule touch of his fingers. Butterflies swarmed inside your belly from his Impact on you. You weren’t sure if it was because of your lack of touch since having a boyfriend, but you were like putty in his hands. “Don’t stop..” you sounded breathless when his hand reached your clothed clit. 
Wakasa grinned devilishly when he made contact with the damp spot that had formed on your panties. He had barely done a single thing and your underwear was already a dripping mess. It made him so fucking hard at the thought. He used his other hand to bring your lips down onto his. The kiss you shared was firey and full of passion and desire. It started off fairly slow. He thought your lips were smooth like honey. He could hardly get enough of the strawberry chapstick you wore on them. You shuddered when the tips of his fingers touched your cunt. He began to draw small circles onto it, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You moaned into the kiss, allowing Wakasa to swallow it.
His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, to which you granted him access to your mouth. He darted into it and deepened the kiss even more this time. You were such a great kisser. He knew those pretty lips would have gone to good use the moment his eyes landed on them. Everything about you was ethereal. He hadn’t felt such excitement in forever. 
Wakasa pulled your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to him. He smirked when he made contact with the sticky arousal that coated your clit. You were a fucking delight down there. He wanted to taste you so fucking badly. Eat you out until you cried his name so everyone in the damn club heard who was making you feel like you were on cloud nine, but he was too far into it to do so. He wanted to make you feel good, of course, but for now he wanted to use just his fingers to make that happen. The thoughts he had were unlike no other. It was almost as if you casted a spell on him, because he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Heh.. what a mess you are, baby. This pretty pussy is calling for me, yeah? You want my fingers in you, princess?” he looked into your eyes as he spoke to you. 
You nodded your head, twirling a few strands of his hair around your fingers. You were slipping right through the cracks. He was driving you up the wall from only one simple thing, but you needed him more than anything else. “Y-Yes.. Wakasa! I need you..” you whined, moving your hips towards his digits which were right near your hole. 
Wakasa sunk one of his fingers into your dripping hole. A gasp filled his ears once he was fully inside of you. You were so tight. He could hardly move his finger around, and not to mention, you were so wet. He could tell that your pussy was quite divine and he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you with his cock instead. He then began to finger you at a decently fast pace. You were squirming and jerking around underneath him. Even though it was just one, you still felt so full and your body was heating up quicker than you expected. He was talented with those hands of his. His finger twisted and curled around your sweet hole to find that one spot he knew would send you to the moon. 
Wakasa used his hand to maneuver your body around. He wanted an even greater access to you, so he adjusted your seating to where your back was now against his chest. This in turn made you place both of your feet onto the couch, so you were spread completely open for him. Wakasa bit the inside of cheek, his mouth watering at the thought of how gorgeous you looked right now. He wanted to see what that pretty cunt of yours looked like. He then kept pumping his finger into you. Your hand went to wrap around his wrist. It was so good. You hadn’t felt such a thing in a long time. His fingers were much different than your own, and he was doing everything to make you fall apart. You shivered even more when you felt his cock completely hardened against your ass. He had to be big, judging by the print that you could feel.
He brought his free hand to wrap around your throat. He pushed you backwards so your head was now against his shoulder. His breath tickled against the shell of your ear. “Look at you.. being so obedient for me..” he gave it a squeeze, causing your eyes to roll back from the pleasure. “So perfect for me.. yeah? Say my name, baby..”
You let out a whine when his pumps only quickened inside of you. He had found that button and he could tell by the way your body was reacting to his motions against it. Your vision blurred with every movement of his fingers, and you started to grow louder. “W-Wakasa..! Right there! Please!” you gripped his wrist tightly as he fingered you relentlessly. Your pussy squelched and squealed from how soaked you were. Wakasa found that to be the hottest thing he had ever heard. A pretty woman with her pussy dripping just for him? He honestly thought of you as an angel, just for him. 
Wakasa didn’t understand how you weren’t with another man. You were so gorgeous and your body had to be a work of art. Normally, women as stunning as you were swept off your feet the moment you came into a man’s view. If it were Wakasa, he would have made you his without a second thought. He’d treat you so right. He would give you it all. He knew it might sound silly because this was indeed his first encounter with you, but you did something to him that no other woman had done before. He couldn’t wait to get the real show started with you. He wanted to show you how a man did things with another woman. 
He brushed his thumb over your swollen clit. His other hand moved to fumble with your breast. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from them the entire evening. He wanted to honestly pull your bra down and suck on your pretty nipples. “Such a perfect little body you have, angel.” he began to draw circles on your puffy clit. “Can’t wait to fuck you.. bet you’re so warm and tight..” 
You bucked your hips towards his finger, feeling your orgasm approaching you. He got off on how desperate you were for his touch. Your walls began to flutter around his finger and slowly trap him in. He wasn’t ready to bring you to your peak yet, so he removed his finger from your cunt. A whine slipped from your lips at his sudden retraction. You were so close. Teasing you made you go crazy. You desired Wakasa more than anything and him being an ass wasn’t helping your case. “W-Waka..!” you tried bringing his hand towards your throbbing cunt, but he remained stiff and didn’t let you move him. He wasn’t going to give in that easily.
He trailed his large hands along your body, exploring every curvature and crevice of your flesh. He left a small wet kiss on the spot underneath your ear. You were so whiny and cute it made his cock twitch inside of his dress pants. “I wanna try something with you, princess..” he cooed into your ear. “But only if you want it.. otherwise, we can move forward..”
Curiosity coursed through your veins at his mention of something new. You had experimented with many things with many different guys, but you had yet to try everything. Wakasa could have anything up his sleeve, which made you wonder more as to what this could be. It only made you more excited. You turned your head to make eye contact with the man who was sitting behind you. His purple eyes were now blown with lust, which made his pupils quite large. “W-What is it..?” you questioned, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his pretty lips you wished you had on you once again.
Wakasa reached towards the black tie that was loosened around the collar of his shirt. He untied it and pulled it off of him. Your eyes grew wide when you realized what he wanted to do. You have seen plenty of erotic videos where a man would use a tie for a specific purpose. Whether it was using it to restrain them, or using it as a blindfold, they were used for pretty kinky things. You hadn’t had one used on you before. It’d be a completely new experience. The thought alone turned you on, a lot. Though, it did somewhat make you nervous because of your inexperience with the clothing item. This could go wrong, but that was a risk you were willing to take with the man before you. You were certain that Wakasa would never put you in a situation where you could get hurt. 
He lifted his tie in his hand up to your level. He could already imagine you with his tie on your body. Fuck, that’d be a sight. You were already gorgeous enough, so you’d look even more sexy with it on. “I want to use it as a blindfold.. I won’t progress without your consent, so if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” he sounded sincere and quite sweet in your opinion. You thought it was considerate of him to think of your feelings in the matter. Not many men were like that. 
You felt comfortable with him enough for him to use the blindfold on you. He did mention that if you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say the word. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you nodded, looking into his pretty eyes. 
He smiled at you, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. He then unrolled his tie, taking both ends into his hands. You then watched him place the tie over your eyes. Your vision went completely dark and you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you. Wakasa used both ends of the tie to form a knot so it would stay nice and firm behind your head. A shaky breath left your lips. You had no idea where he was going to move next, or what he was planning on doing now. Judging by how fast he seemed to be moving, you could only assume that he was preparing to fuck you. The images flashed inside your brain, making that heat form in your belly. 
The man behind you then began to move you around. Wakasa placed your head down, so you were now lying down on the couch. He began to undo the buttons of your blouse, exposing your bra that held your breasts. It took everything inside him to not completely ravage your pretty mounds. He then moved downward and began to tug at your skirt. He pulled the piece of fabric down your thighs, then towards your calves where it slipped off of your ankles. Wakasa’s eyes fixated on your pussy that was still as wet as before. He was right. Your cunt was so perfect and the sight of it made his mouth water with saliva. He began to ponder on the taste. He bet you were sweet and savory. He thought you had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He’d have to taste you some time. There was no way he was going to let you walk away without giving him a small taste.
Wakasa pulled your panties off of your body, tossing them onto the floor beside him. He then began to unbuckle his belt, which made you shiver. You couldn’t see what he was hiding underneath those pants of his. Anticipation bubbled inside your belly at the thought of what his cock was going to feel like. He removed his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers. He could finally breathe. It felt like he had been suffocated from how tight they felt around his waist. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, to which he wiped off with the pad of his thumb. 
His fingers trailed down the skin of your waist, then towards your hips. The lack of eyesight made your emotions all the more heightened. You were much more sensitive now. It was no surprise to Wakasa when you twitched at his minor touches. What a pretty baby you were. “Heh, don’t you worry, princess. I promise to be gentle with you..” he winked, tossing his white shirt onto the table beside you both.
He then positioned himself at your entrance. The pinkish tip brushed along your folds, earning a moan from both of you. Your pussy was so wet. It didn’t take much for Wakasa to push himself inside of you. He grunted loudly when he felt your delicious walls clamping around his cock. He couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. It made him question where you’ve been all his life. You squirmed at the sensation of his cock splitting your cunt apart. He was big. Wakasa searched your expression for any signs of discomfort or hesitation, but all he saw was your jaw wide open from his cock pushing inside of you. He took that as a good sign, and began to slowly rut his hips into you. He could hardly keep himself composed. You were squeezing his cock so perfectly that he swore you were made to take him.
Wakasa began to pick up his pace. Your hands began to run down your body, taking a hold of your breast. The thrill of using a blindfold was making the sex even greater than it would without it. You had no idea what he might do next, and that’s what excited you. “Wakasa..! Fuck.. you’re so good..” you whimpered, arching your back upwards from the pleasure you were receiving.
He liked hearing his name slip from your tongue like that. He could listen to your sweet voice all fucking day. Scratch that, he could fuck you all day and never get tired. There was so much to like about you. To think, just a little while ago you were serving him drinks and being a pretty little waitress for him. He disliked that Shinichiro stared at you a little longer than he would have preferred, but that idea was shut down the moment you made eye contact with Wakasa. “Yeah..? Look at you.. being so good for me, baby. You take me – shit! – so fuckin’ nicely..” he pried your legs apart further, placing them around his waist to reach into you more.
He was unable to see it, but your eyes rolled backwards behind your lids from the new angle he reached. He reached your g-spot instantly, sending deep waves of pleasure to crash along your body. This man must have known the female body much better than any other guy on this planet. He knew exactly what he was doing to make you see stars in your vision. 
Wakasa gritted his teeth at your walls, shuddering and twitching around his dick. He hated sounding so possessive, but he wanted you all to himself. He knew you didn’t belong to him and you both just met one another, but the idea of another man getting their hands on you made him green with envy. You were too good for these shitty men he knew in the world. They didn’t deserve such a kind woman, nor did they deserve the chance to fuck your perfect pussy. He wanted to be the only one to fuck you in such a manner. His dick should be the only one you thought about. It only made him want to fuck you harder and better. God, what the fuck did you do to him? Wakasa never believed in being tied down to one person, but you.. you had completely shifted his opinion on the subject. You were a little devil.
He used his hand to grip your throat. He gave it a harsh squeeze, which made your mind feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He leaned towards your ear. His deep breaths filled your ears, arousing you from how harsh they were. “Gonna make this pussy all mine, angel..” he purred. “You wanna – fuck – be mine, baby? Never gonna share you again.. I’ll give you i-it all!” 
His thrusts grew more aggressive, sending you over the edge with your mind becoming foggy with euphoria. He sounded so menacing and it made you so turned on. It stunned you, though. Wakasa wanted to keep you all to himself, yet he barely knew you. To be honest, you didn’t oppose that idea whatsoever. The thought of being Wakasa’s was not a bad one. “Y-Yes..!” you managed to choke out, considering you weren’t able to allow much air into your lungs from how tight his hold was on your throat. 
A chuckle rumbled in his throat at your reply. You were his little masochist and he couldn’t wait to see what else you were capable of. He couldn’t hide that smirk that appeared on his face when you said yes. He’d make you see that you would never regret such a decision to be his. “That’s right.. good girl, baby.” he released your throat, allowing you to inhale a breath. “Wanna see me fuck you, princess..? ‘Wanna see those pretty e-eyes look at me..” 
You nodded your head vigorously. You craved nothing more than to see his handsome face above you. Wakasa then slowed his thrusts and reached forward to pull the black blindfold down and away from your eyes. You squinted a little from the sudden rays of light that filled your vision, but your eyes then focused on the man who was fucking you. Wakasa looked so good hovering over your body. His ponytail was slightly messy and a few strands of his hair were clinging to his forehead from the sweat that formed on his skin. He was giving you a flirty smile that made your face burn. You wished you got to see him the entire time, but you were glad you got the chance to see him now.
Your hands went to rest on his muscular shoulders. His physique was quite nice and attractive. You couldn’t believe a man this handsome was fucking your brains out on a couch. “Wakasa! Fuck.. love your cock..” you made eye contact with him. Your desperate hues made him twitch inside of you. You were so so beautiful looking at him like that. 
He loved the sound of that. He then had an idea flow into his brain. He had done it before with other women, but he wanted to try it with you. He thought it’d be a nice way to remember this evening you two had with one another. Wakasa slowed his ruts and came to a complete stop, which made you somewhat upset. You thought it was unfair, because you were coming close to that delicious high that you craved more than anything else. The man then reached over to the glass coffee table that was right beside the couch. He pulled his phone off of the table and stared down at you with foggy eyes. He was breathing quite heavily and seemed almost as needy as you were. “I wanna record you..” he moved around inside your cunt, earning a cry of pleasure from your mouth. “Only if you want.. baby.” 
Being recorded? That was something you were completely new to. You had sent naked photographs and videos of yourself before, but to have a sexual encounter recorded? That was quite lewd and it was different. You worried the video might be shared with other people. You didn’t dislike the idea or anything, but your private business with Wakasa should remain behind closed doors. 
You shifted around underneath him. You were getting close to your orgasm, and you wanted to finish already. “I’ll only allow it if you promise to never share it..” you took his free hand into yours, placing it on your body. “Promise.. Waka?”
Wakasa heard your concerns loud and clear. There were many assholes out there that often betrayed the trust of their significant others by sharing those videos with others, but Wakasa wasn’t one of them. He’d never share something that intimate without your permission. He also didn’t want anyone else to see your body. He was the only person who should be able to see the private areas of you. “I promise, angel. You won’t have to worry..” he rubbed your belly with his hand softly to reassure you. 
You then gave him the nod to keep going. He started to pick up that similar pace he had prior. His tip kissed your g-spot, making your brain turn fuzzy each time he pressed against it. Your walls were beginning to spasm and close around his cock, earning several grunts from the man above you who looked fucking gorgeous. He was well aware that you were close. Heh, maybe he’d get your pretty orgasm on camera while he recorded you. He’d never stop viewing that video if that were the case.
Wakasa used his thumb to swipe over to the camera. His grip wasn’t the firmest, considering he was fucking the shit out of you, but he eventually was able to begin taping the scene in front of him. The flash appeared within the blink of an eye, and you realized you were being recorded. He grinned when your pussy quivered around him. You must have liked being on camera like that. He pushed your legs somewhat further apart to let the camera get a glance of his cock pushing your cunt apart. “Heh.. would you look at that, baby. You suck me in so fuckin’ nicely..” he cooed, shifting his gaze onto you. “You like being taped, hm..? ‘Can feel you getting nice and tight now..” 
His thumb swirled around your clit. The familiar knot in your belly was tightening with every motion of his hips. Wakasa gritted his teeth at how so fucking great he felt. He had begun to increase his assault on your cunt, allowing your cries to become much louder than before. Your volume was so high that it was likely that whoever was down this hallway heard you moaning for Wakasa. Neither of you gave much care to that fact. What were they going to do? Come to the club owner himself and argue over it? Fat chance. 
Wakasa groaned deeply when your pussy began to squeeze the life out of his cock. Your high had finally washed over you, making your thighs tremble from the affects. He was most thrilled to know that he had caught the entire thing on video. Your pretty voice calling out his name so loudly that he was sure you would have lost your voice from the high pitch. A creamy white ring surrounded his cock. You were a mess on him and the couch you were both fucking on. That was all he really needed in the department of recording you, because now it was his turn to reach his orgasm. “Fuck.. so good.. such a good girl, baby.” he then pressed the button on his phone, ending the recording and tossing it somewhere onto the floor. 
Your eyes were hazy and your body was still reeling in the affects of your climax. You felt as if you were on fire and Wakasa was the gasoline making that spark more intense. “Wakasa! N-Need you..” you whined. “Ah..!”
Those words brought a nice smile to the man’s face. The feeling was honestly mutual. He needed you just as much as you needed him. He would give you whatever you desired. “Yeah..? Don’t worry, doll. I’ll give you everything..” he leaned down, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your swollen lips. “Where do you – fuck! – want my cum, baby?” 
Although the words processed quite slowly into your brain, you wondered what would be the most fun. He could always leave his cum right on your face or on your pretty tits. That also proposed the idea of him taking a photo of it and saving it on his cell phone. Either option turned you on, but the other one made your clit throb. Wakasa filling you up crossed your mind and it was such an erotic idea. He was already opening your doors to new things like using a blindfold and recording, so why not let him cum inside you just this once? It would be nice, and you hadn’t experienced such a feeling in a long time. 
Your arms went to wrap around his neck, bringing his face towards yours. Those lazy eyes of his stared right into your fucked out ones. He could get lost within them if he stared for too long. “Inside.. please..” you sounded so desperate that Wakasa could have cum right then and there. He knew you were into things, but that? That was quite a surprise. 
But, who was he to deny your such filthy desires? He’d grant them any day he so pleased.
Wakasa began to rut his hips at that same fast pace from before. Your familiar cries returned, filling his ears like they were a song he could never get tired of. His cock began to twitch inside of you and his grip on your body was firm. He would grant you that need of wanting his cum inside you. He could only imagine what it would look like when his seed leaked out of your hole. It only made him more encouraged to keep going. He was so close. “Shit.. shit.. fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.. ‘gonna fill this pretty pussy..” he looked down at you as he spoke. 
With one last thrust, he hissed as his high hit him like a truck. His cock twitched and his balls that were slapping against your clit tightened up, allowing his cum to fill into your womb. It was quite thick and warm, sending shivers along your body from how it made you feel. Wakasa’s grip on your hip must have been tight enough to leave marks. He didn’t dare move in fear that the mess inside of you would possibly seep out, so he decided to sit there for a brief moment. Your nails drew small circles onto his shoulder, trying to recover from the affects of being completely and utterly fucked out. You weren’t sure how long you had been at it, but it must have been quite late in the evening.
Both of you were quite messy. There were many loose strands falling out of Wakasa’s once neat ponytail, and sweat dripped down his tattooed body. He still had that dreamy aura attached to him even though he looked quite exhausted. 
After several moments of silence, Wakasa pulled out of your tired cunt. Some of his cum had escaped and began to trickle down from your pussy to your ass. He thought it was one of the sexiest things he had laid his eyes upon. His cum coming out of you. What a delicious sight. Reality then dawned on him, he had another event to attend for the evening and he couldn’t remain at the club for longer than he would have desired. He had to also find out where Shinichiro and Benkei had gone. He had so much fun with you. The experience he had with you was exhilarating and nothing like he had felt before. He doubted he’d find that similar feeling with another woman.
Wakasa leaned towards the floor and grabbed his pants. You watched him begin to redress himself and you figured you would do the same thing. That familiar tires feeling you had earlier in the night had returned. The sex you had only made you more exhausted than you originally were.
He finished up much quicker than you and now he was standing by the door. He decided to say one more thing before he made his exit. As much as he wanted to just go home, duty called. “Have a good night, (Y/N). I hope to see you again.” he gave you a flirty smile, then exited the private room so you were now completely on your own. 
You fixed your skirt and buttoned up your top. You looked down at the coffee table that was directly in front of you. Your eyes fixated on a random napkin that was folded up beside Wakasa’s empty whisky glass. You reached forward and unfolded the napkin. A smile made its way to your features when you read what was written in ink on it. 
“Call me sometime, I’d love to see you again ♡- Wakasa aka Mr.Imaushi”
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rohroy · 1 year ago
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Best Security Personnel Service Provider | Security Guards in India | Securevalue India
Our security guards are well equipped with the latest in security and communication gadgets, they are perfectly at ease handling vans, GPS systems and advanced communication systems. Each and every security personnel goes through a rigorous background che
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officialspec · 9 months ago
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thinking really hard about your brisbane meshi au rn . any more thoughts u have that u haven't shared please my family is starving
none of this is fully fleshed out yet but i can drop some stuff ive been thinking abt in the background :}
the canaries
pattadols mother is a city councillor and started a restaurant as a rehab centre for community service (and then forced pattadol to manage it). either her or her mother is constantly on senshis ass for being unpermitted which is part of the reason he hates elves
mithrun is an ex-adrenaline junkie, im thinking either rock climbing or urban exploration. got disowned from his rich family after suffering a traumatic brain injury on an outing. currently works as line cook i think
fleki and lycion are both ravers, unsure if lycion would have the beastkin tats since im still undecided on magic existing in this au. they roughed it together for a while and now share a 1bed somewhere southside with a rescue dog and like 15 birds they dont technically own. lycion is waitstaff and fleki is a cook :9
otta i have no clue. sorry girl. shes waitstaff/cash handling and flirts w the customers
cithis is hostess OBVIOUSLY. got got doing fraud like 3 times and they couldnt make the charges stick until the fourth. also flirts w the customers but doesnt mean it as much
amendments to previous stuff
one of my friends suggested falin studying mortuary science and im mad i didnt think of it sooner. so thats what shes doing now
marcilles current thesis is on telomere length in jellyfish and the potential applications to oncology research. laios thinks its insanely cool and sends her a lot of (mostly unrelated) papers he finds on scihub
still trying to figure toshiro out. best i have currently is his father sent him to work retail in his late teens to become more worldly or whatever rich ppl do and thats where he met laios and namari at their first job. i feel like i had more but its not coming 2 me atm
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the-usual-stories · 1 month ago
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📍 COPPERDALE: BANK & SHOP
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Региональное отделение банка соседствует с маленьким магазином продовольствия. Подростки полюбили после школы забегать за кофе и пиццей. Для них хозяин лавки организовал небольшой балкон (чтобы своим галдежом не мешали прочим посетителям).
📍 Коппердейл, район Площадь Прескотт, лот "Веранда на городской площади" | 20*15 | 2 🚽| $ 104331 | тип лота- Торговля
Обязательно введите код bb.moveobjects on, перед размещением. Включает некоторые элементы отладки. Протестировано в игре, и товары, доступные для покупки, протыканы (покупка через Shift+BuyDebug не требуется). К сожалению, продукты из загородной жизни (молоко, мука, сахар) исчезают при переносе.
Без дополнительного контента (СС) , но требуется большинство ДЛС. Версия игры 1.106.148.1030 и позднее.
В банке имеется рабочие места двоим сотрудникам и место консультанта, кабинет главного менеджера, касса и два хранилища на втором этаже. В соседнем помещении розничный магазин продуктов и кофе. Всегда интересно рассматривать ваши скрины, не стесняйтесь отмечать меня @the-usual-stories
In eglish and more pics 🔍 больше картинок ниже
The regional branch of the bank is adjacent to a small food store. Teenagers loved to run for coffee and pizza after school. For them, the owner of the shop organized a small balcony (so that the noise they make does not interfere with other visitors).
The lot includes two workplaces for employees, a manager's office and a consultant's desk, a cash registe, two storage facilities, and a grocery store.
📍Copperdale, Prescott Square, Town Square Terrace | lot size 20*15 | 2 🚽| $ 104331 | Retail lot | bb.moveobjects on, debug on | play tested | Products available for purchase are marked
Build without Custom Content, but Most DLCs required. Game version 1.106.148.1030 and later
Thanks to the following creators: #RGeetect(safe&printer) #aljay2000(arts) #80CHILI (cash mashine) - gallery tags.
interior
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Grocery store
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Exterior
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I always would love to see your screenshots, so feel free to tag me @the-usual-stories
📤 DOWNLOAD/СКАЧАТЬ
Gallery EA ID UsualStory
Tray files: Boosty or SimFileShare
@s4realtor  @sssvitlanz  @publicvanillabuilds thank u!
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thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
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I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!
So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.
Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.
I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.
When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.
Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.
When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.
That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.
New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.
All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)
Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...
Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.
Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.
If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.
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lemoncrushh · 10 months ago
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Tattooed Heart - Part II
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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