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satzumosupremacy · 8 months ago

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Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.10

Desperation

Male reader x Jeon Somi

Tags: Smut, literally face fucking, daddy kink

2.8k Words

You have a history with Somi. Back when you were a freshly new bodyguard, she repeatedly sought out your services. Regardless of whether the close relationship you shared with her is just a distant memory for you, she still thinks of you from time to time—perhaps more often than you'd expect. And here you are, reminiscing about the old days and walking in front of Somi as she follows behind.

“Oppa, y’know my song was inspired by you.”

“Fast Forward?”

There’s a reason why Somi isn’t your client anymore—she switched agencies, that’s the only reason. You advanced quickly, gaining many celebrity clients along the way. It’s the law of attraction: when people seek top talent, companies turn to you. And when Somi needed to make a decision on her own career as an idol, she only had two choices: move to a different agency or continue to have you by her side. It was a hard choice for Somi until she came to the obvious conclusion. You didn’t hold any resentment; you understood her decision. This was all business anyways.

However, the glares in your eyes weren't always so friendly. Your presence was already intimidating, with the black suit, sunglasses, earpiece, and sometimes even a holster at your hip. You didn't smile much, but you got the job done. Initially, Somi thought you were a cold person, but that changed once you became her regular bodyguard. The more time she spent with you, the more her perception shifted. Despite your cold and intimidating appearance, you cared for and protected your client. That was the job you had signed up for.

“I took part in the lyrics,” Somi says, causing you to stop short before opening the door and look back at her.

“What do I have to do with your song?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just.. just missed you, Oppa. Don’t you miss me too?”

You couldn't give her an answer when she expected a 'yes,' but you remained silent. Was it wrong to forget about her? You had her phone number, but you never called or texted. Not even to wish her something like a 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy New Year.'

Somi glances around to make sure no one is watching. Once she's certain both of you are alone, she takes your hand. “I know we are parting ways again after this. But can we catch up? I don’t want you to leave.”

“I think your manager is waiting, Somi. We can catch up next time. Promise?”

“But remember the promise you made with me last time?”

You're clueless. Her question was too vague. It's been years. "What promise?"

“May I come over, Oppa? You’ve seen my place. I never saw yours.”

Somi never slept with you, but it was obvious that she wanted to fuck at the hotel when you went overseas with her, which didn't went her way anyways since this was all business. “Does Chaeyoung talk about me to you, Somi? I’m sure she said something.”

“Oppa, just once. Please?” Somi’s begging for you straightforwardly, you can tell from her eyes that she’s been lonely for far too long. “Aren’t we close? How many years have we not seen each other? It’s been too long, Oppa.”

There’s also not a single lie that you can tell Somi was interested in you, not just sexually, but also romantically. When times change, it’s questionable when you and Somi parted ways.

“Ennik,” you say softly. “Somi.”

“Yes?” she smiles and lets go of your hand.

“Come home with me.”

She chuckles, “finally, you’re not playing hard for once.”

———

“Daddy?” Somi says cautiously out of the blue as you pull into the driveway.

“Is that like one of your kinks?” you chuckle.

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not judging. I don’t mind it, Somi.” You turn the car off and close the garage door. “Let’s go inside.”

She's unusually quiet, waiting impatiently as you both exit the car and walk inside. There's no doubt that Somi won't let you off the hook the moment you step in. She's hungry. She's lonely. As you shut the door calmly, before you can even turn around, she gets on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking up at you desperately.

"Give it to me, Daddy," she softly pleads once you see her kneeling, slowly placing her hands on your pants and pulls down slowly.

“Somi,” you take a breath, "how much did you missed me?"

"So much." Somi leans closer, staring right at you from below and getting a whiff of your crotch.

"Then show me how much you missed me. Be a good girl."

Somi doesn't respond, but you can see it in her eyes that she wants to be proven worthy. And slowly, Somi bites onto the waistband of your boxers, then pulls it down with a wicked smirk, and you felt her nose dragging against your skin.

She’s not someone who you just met. You know that she's a horny one at heart. Somi didn't want to waste any time. Her breaths came shallow and quick, as if each breath were full of desperation. She gulps and stares at your cock the moment it flings out of your boxers. But before you give her a taste, what's the fun without a small tease? You already have her in a chokehold, and she wouldn’t want to escape it.

"Take off your shirt," you demand, caressing her cheeks. Somi didn't even hesitate and takes off her shirt, revealing a black bra as you stare at her cleavage. Her tit's are round and perfect, more than enough to where you would want your face in between.

“Good girl.” you say, smirking.

She leans closer again and only stares at you after a quick kiss on the tip of your cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about you. I thought about you late last night."

“I’ll make it come true, Somi.” You say, brushing her hair and getting a clear view of her beauty. Once her mouth opened, she wanted only one thing: to taste you. But knowing how desperate Somi is, you're not letting her. Not this easily. You pull her hair back and she gasp, staring up to meet your gaze.

Somi gulps, which was loud in this quiet house. “Daddy,” she whispers. You saw your own reflection in her eyes as she looks at you.

“Open your mouth,” you say, wanting to be in control. Quietly, she opens her mouth without hesitation and you slap your cock right on her cheeks, not once, but twice as she flinches and smiles, then Somi wickedly chuckles.

“I’m such a slut for you.”

“It should be that way,” you say, a deeper tone that made her heart to start fluttering. Your cock was right in front of Somi. She’s impatiently waiting like a good girl. “Keep your mouth open and your tongue out.”

Again, she listens to everything you demanded. Her eyes gleamed, begging you so desperately to the point she’ll do anything just for a small taste. And as you’re curious to how desperate she was, her salvia starts to drip off the tip of her tongue.

You slap your cock right on her tongue, then held her nape with no intentions on letting Somi have it her way. You’re planning to ruin her face. She deserves it. There’s no excuse if Somi’s been waiting for this day. And with a small thrust into her mouth, she chokes once you reached the back of her throat. You push harder, slowly every few seconds without pulling out your cock.

Somi's throat expands, and you could feel her trying to choke, when it’s only a weak one with your cock deep in her throat. She leans back, almost falling behind, and you intentionally did it to pin her against the wall. She closes her eyes shut, face trembling to how deep your cock was in. Well, you weren’t trying to make her pass out, but you did start to worry and gave Somi some room to breathe.

She takes a deep breath with your cock still in her mouth. Without a response, Somi grabs onto your hips, bobbing and tilting her head slowly. You couldn’t help but smirk at how much of a slut you made her. There was no sense of pride from Somi. She's going crazy for your cock.

“Good girl,” you groan, complimenting Somi. “Go ahead, have it. Take it.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs. Then there’s a long hum, the type of hum of tasting something delightful. You felt her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin as she grips harder and harder, cock disappearing in and out from her mouth. Saliva drips down from her chin and right onto her cleavage. You give a hard thrust and her head’s now against the wall, perfect as you smirk to what wicked intentions you have for her face—a hard face fucking.

Somi closes her eyes, letting a tear out by how hard you were thrusting into her mouth. It’s the tears of happiness that everyone gets after getting what they’ve been longing for. You decide to suddenly stop, still with your cock deep down in her throat. And with your thumb on her face, you wiped her tears, smudging her mascara in the process. She looked more of a slut at this point, and you aren’t complain of seeing Somi like this when her hair is sticking to the wall.

“Good girl,” you say, more softly with a deeper tone. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” Praising her is a cheat code, she loves being complicated and praised at, especially if it’s from you. You’re well aware of how much you meant to her. It’s no secret.

And it’s clear that you’re using her mouth like a toy, she’s choking and gagging. You could care less while you chase this peace of mind from a singer’s mouth. Somi’s not stopping you, neither would you want to.

“Fuck,” you groan softly, taking a quick breath, and seeing how much of a mess her face was and pulls out. Saliva drips down to her tits after she spits more out to make a mess. You love it how she’s just a slut taking your cock like there’s no tomorrow. Her lips are coated in saliva as she worships your cock with her lips pressing right on it.

“Am I being a good girl, Daddy?” she mumbles, lips on the tip of your cock.

“You are. Maybe you should stop talking and show me that you’re even better than a good girl.” Somi’s face was all fucked, a whole hot mess. She’s even more beautiful like this.

“I want it all over my face, Daddy.”

“Should maybe get ready then.”

You grab onto her face, squeezing her cheeks with your fingers and palm right on her chin to make Somi look up at you. You were once her love interest. You were her protector. And now, she’s on her very knees, in a mess taking your aggression. Somi couldn’t say anything, she’s more mesmerized by your glare. You push your cock back into her mouth to make Somi gag and continue to choke all over your cock.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” you groan. Your cock was shoved deep down to the point it bulges out her throat. Her eyes are closed, tears slowly coming down her face. You felt saliva dripping all the way down to your balls. Her small mouth couldn’t take it, but she's not stopping you from using her like a toy.

Your cock begins to throb, violently more as you keep shoving your cock into her mouth. There’s a whole mess on her tits as it’s drying out layer by layer. Somi’s taking it like a slut that she is. It doesn’t matter how rough you were, Somi loves the way your cock throbs. After a deep gasp, and a moan, you pull out. Webs of saliva flows out her mouth and on your cock down to her chest.

She grabs onto your cock to start stroking it. Somi knew what to do. She wants to make you cum all over her face. Her hands squeezes your cock, stroking it faster and faster while looking up at you.

“Make me cum, Somi,” you uttered quickly. “I’ll cum on your pretty face.”

“Give it to me, Daddy,” she murmurs. Her mouths wide open, tongues out, eyes all closed.

You cum by her small hands squeezing and stroking your cock, releasing all the built up sexual tension for years, but all Somi can feel was how much cum there was on her face. With a bright smile, and a couple flinches from cum shooting onto her face, she finally got her fantasy to come true. It’s warm. It’s thick. Just what she’s been craving for.

Somi’s face is the definition of getting face fucked. Her hairs a mess, cum all over her lips, cheeks, and even up to her hair as she couldn’t open her eyes but smile. Then strands of cum stretch and drip down her chin to her tits.

“What a mess,” she utters after swallowing your cum, and the biggest smile you saw from her today. Somi scoops all the cum on her face and licks every single finger.

“You’re missing more, Somi,” you say, wanting her to lick your cock clean. She crawls on her knees to suck you off without a word. “There’s some on your hair too.”

“It’s fine,” she says after pulling off your cock with a loud pop. “You taste good.”

“Was I too aggressive?”

“Kind of. Tolerable thought. But why should I complain?” She then leans in again to give your cock a quick kiss. Her chest is pumping after being used as a toy.

“Water?” you say, wanting to give her some care.

“No,” she whispers shyly.

You grab your pants and gently hand Somi her shirt. She’s still on her knees with the shirt rolled up into a ball as she covers part of her chest. “It’s not a problem if you want get in my panties if you’re thinking about it right now.”

Well, you did give her a hard face fucking. It’s only right that you give Somi a time to rest. As you put on your pants, she’s just staring down at the floor, lost in thought.

“What are you thinking, Somi?”

“Are you gonna kick me out?” she says, looking up at you. There’s a pure moment of silence, you couldn’t believe what she just said. After face fucking her? Why kick her out?

“Do you want me to, Somi?” you smirk, teasing her when you aren’t planning on kicking her out.

“You want my pussy? I’ll give it to you right now for as long as you want. Please let me stay for a while, Oppa. Please, Daddy?”

You’re dumbfounded to why Somi thinks that you’ll kick her out. “Calm down, let’s go sit on the couch. I’m not telling you to leave.”

“Oh,” she embarrassingly says and puts on her shirt. After Somi stands up, she follows you to the couch and sits right beside you. Somi couldn't belive that she got naked and took your cock like a slut. Neither did she want to fully admit of being one.

“How was it since you changed agencies, Somi?”

“I really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking that I might of made the wrong choice to leave you behind. And now you’re with Twice.”

“I’m just a bodyguard,” you chuckle.

“So what? You’re so comfortable to be around with. Isn’t it obvious?”

You shrug, “don’t know.”

“Oppa,” she takes a deep breath. “Was it also obvious that I was interested in you?”

“It was. Why are you bringing this up, Somi?”

“If I can’t buy your love, I’ll sell you my body. That’s the most I can do for you to want me in a way.”

You sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to word that, Somi. C’mon.”

She then sits closer to you and puts her head on your shoulders, “we never had a proper farewell to each other. I want to thank you for everything.”

“It’s..not like I’ll never take you in as a client again, Somi. If both our schedules are right, I don’t mind taking you.”

“Really, Oppa?”

“When’s your next concert? I’ll come with Chaeyoung.”

“Why come with her when you can be alongside me like we used to? Be backstage and we can eat at a restaurant after with my manager. I want to treat you for everything you’ve done with me.”

“Just text me, Somi. I’ll be there if your agency reaches out to me.”

“Mhm, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Do you plan on spending the night here?”

“I’m busy tomorrow morning, Oppa,” she sighs.

“I’ll take you home later, Somi.”

A/N: Lost motivation to write more, but hope this is enough. Half ass edit too.

#jeon somi #kpop smut

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periwinkla · 9 months ago

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Maya Fey's character is written in such a charmingly, heart wrenchingly subtle way. She has to face all manners of tragedy, but she always has that smile on her face and presses on, feigning happiness and lightheartedness. It's honestly somewhat disturbing. How can someone smile so seemingly easily after such tragedy? Can you imagine going to your sister’s workplace, expecting to spend a quiet evening together, and instead... you see a slumped silhouette against the wall of the window? She spawns the most crazy things out of her mouth just to fill the silence sometimes. Why? Sure, it may be for the game's comic relief… but sometimes it appears a tad forced? Like it’s because she wants to build a relationship with Phoenix - like her sister asked her - and doesn't quite know how to. He’s the only person that can understand what she’s going through. She’s suffering. He’s suffering. So she needs to fill the silence somehow. And she drags him along most times, she is the one that decides they should take Power’s case, after all. After Edgeworth's trial she feels useless (even though she clearly was the reason Phoenix could save him... can you believe she just charged in against Von Karma? that's insane) and goes back home to resume her training so she can help Phoenix again. After Edgeworth's ‘death’, Phoenix didn't keep in touch. Although she didn’t know about Edgeworth, she knew that the whole year had been hard on them both in the first place... so she grew worried, and basically bargained with her client to go and get him and drag him to Kurain. Phoenix can get back into taking cases just because she's there to cheer him up. So she needs to be strong! Even though she's suffering tremendously as well. Mia isn't there anymore and now she also needs to take care of her cousin because apparently she can’t even have her aunt to rely on, because for some reason the universe decided to give her the most complicated family drama imaginable. When they face Franziska? She's awfully perceptive. She's only 18, and instead of being angry at Franziska's behavior, she wonders how she can be so strong? And she seems to admire her? Would a 18 year old accused of murder think that of the accuser? That's frankly baffling. It shows maturity far beyond her age, to think of the true feelings behind people’s behavior despite what it means for her situation. And then she gets kidnapped. And still, she feigns being fine… Then then Hazakura happens. All that and she's still thinking about other people! She tries to protect Godot, even though it's a moot point. She tries to be strong for Pearl - as Edgeworth points out - and she tries so hard to not make everything affect her. She takes everything in stride but also suppresses her feelings. And she's very very good at it, even. She seems fine. Franziska is baffled at her nonchalance, and somehow Edgeworth is the one who needs to explain it, perhaps because they had similar experiences and their tragedy is linked to the same root. Edgeworth tried to repress his feelings as well (although he is, by contrast, very very bad at hiding them) so he knows what he's talking about. I quite like that scene at the end of AA3 because that makes it deliberate on Takumi’'s part that he wanted to write her that way from the start. (it also adds to the development of 3 characters at once: Maya, Miles and Franziska) Her misfortunes don’t end here, either. SOJ happens. Kidnapped again, accused of murder again. People she trusted betray her and she finds it in her heart to forgive them? And now she also has a ton of responsibilities. And she needs to appear even stronger now in front of other people, because they depend on her. She’s still cheerful though. Because she needs to be. She first needs to be strong for Phoenix, then Pearl, then for the whole village of Kurain. And she manages to be, somehow. I love when characters are written this way. Once you have all the pieces together, if you go back and analyze their behavior, it makes the experience so much richer and so much more meaningful.

#had to summarize this a lot because tumblr apparently has a word limit?#oh well #hope I got the point across regardless #ace attorney #maya fey #aa musings #musings #soj spoilers

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mykingdomforapen · 29 days ago

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It would be easier for Lu Guang to simply swallow it down and bear it. But it wouldn’t be right.

In truth, nothing felt right. Heels of his hands pressed against his swollen, dry eyes, a crick in his neck, his heart trapped in his throat. One side of his head felt like it was being pulverized, the pain of the migraine stirring up trouble in his stomach. And Cheng Xiaoshi’s dulcet tones in his ear, his pleas no longer endearing.

Lu Guang squeezed his eyes shut at Cheng Xiaoshi’s insistence.

“Lu Guang, come on,” he said urgently. “We need to finish this.”

This was a pile of photographs lined up across their coffee table, marked in chronological order, detailing the lifespan of a relationship between two cousins. The boys had grown up together like twins, Qiao Ling had told them when she outlined the case for them, but then grew apart after one of the cousins developed a gambling addiction. The last straw was when he stole money from his cousin’s mother to feed the insatiable beast, and the cousin cut ties.

He suspects that his cousin also stole their grandmother’s jade, Qiao Ling told Lu Guang in preparation for the case. He wants us to help confirm if that’s true, and if so–if he sold it.

Which would have been straightforward enough, if the gambling cousin was still alive. Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

Hence, the ten plus photographs on the living room coffee table.

Lu Guang shifted his hands from his eyes to his temples, giving them a sorry massage that only made him more miserable. He had been poring through photos for hours now, each of them a photo uploaded to the gamblin cousin’s cloud that the client had managed to pull, dating from five years ago–when the grandmother’s jewelry had gone missing–to five months ago, when the cousin had been found dead in his tiny apartment reeking of alcohol and debt. He scoured every interaction the cousin had with their elderly grandmother for any sign of theft, while Cheng Xiaoshi dived into any photo where he could root around the cousin’s apartment for proof.

Even after five hours straight, they could neither confirm nor deny anything. The instant noodles that Qiao Ling had brought over to them had grown cold and untouched on the side. Lu Guang’s scalp scalded with the migraine, and Cheng Xiaoshi stank heavily of eucalyptus oil smeared under his nose to assuage the nausea that came from back-to-back diving. Lu Guang could smell its medicinal chill when Cheng Xiaoshi came too close to his ear.

“Can you please back off?” Lu Guang said through gritted teeth.

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed as he threw himself backwards on the chair. Lu Guang avoided looking anywhere in his direction as he unscrewed a bottle of soy milk to ease his chapped throat. Cheng XIaoshi fared none better, but he had the self-perception of a goldfish to mask it.

“We’re so close, though,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “There were addresses to jewelry shops on his Baidu Maps search history. If we can find a photo that happened either right before or right after that one, I’m sure I can find more–”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, we’ve been at this for almost six hours,” Lu Guang groaned. “Taking a break for at least thirty minutes won’t make a difference.”

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed until his bangs flopped carelessly across his forehead. Lu Guang wiped his lips with the back of his hand, gagging slightly.

“What if I forget?” said Cheng Xiaoshi.

Lu Guang exhaled deeply, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring so that it came more as the exasperated hiss of a steamer.

“Then write it down, idiot,” he snapped. “Am I your mother?”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s jaw clenched instinctively, just as Lu Guang’s did the same–for a moment, hesitating, ready to bite down on the words before they escaped his mouth. But they had punched their way through his teeth nonetheless, and at the end of the day, Lu Guang would have let them. Even if he knew that, while he never commented on it, it stung Cheng Xiaoshi.

Because Lu Guang had said the same the first time they had this argument.

The first time they had this argument, Lu Guang was still only twenty years old. He and Cheng Xiaoshi muddled through their abilities with curiosity and bravado. The only thing Lu Guang was afraid of was drowning, and it was abstract.

The first time, Lu Guang grumbled at Cheng Xiaoshi. I’m tired, asshole, he said. Can’t you give me a break? Cheng Xiaoshi said something tone deaf–but you don’t even have to dive, you can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you–and at that, Lu Guang stomped up to the bedroom, muttering it’s useless trying to argue with you to himself as he locked the door behind him. He burrowed himself angrily in the bedsheets and didn’t emerge until Cheng Xiaoshi cooked an entire apology dinner.

I’m sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi said quietly when Lu Guang stuffed his mouths with softened carrots. Do you–do you want to talk about it?

He said it with his back straight, even though his spine was shaking. Arguments rarely ended well in his experience–usually with a fist to the cheek, or a door slammed in his face while all the neighbors looked disapprovingly at him with full assurance that he was in the wrong. For Cheng Xiaoshi to be able to talk to Lu Guang took a bravery and a faith that he had to fight for, that he had to learn with blood, sweat, and tears to get through this life.

Yeah, Lu Guang mumbled. I do, and they had finally laid their abilities on the table next to the pot of pork shoulder soup and small bowls of dipping sauce. This was new to the both of them, their magic of a great price, and they were learning their breaking points together. Lu Guang shared his needs to be met, Cheng Xiaoshi his fears of being of no help to others, opening their hearts to make space to grow, and at the end when Cheng Xiaoshi asked Are we okay now? Lu Guang said, Even better.

So Lu Guang couldn’t grin and bear it, as much as he hated this frustration, this headache, the thought of tossing and turning on the top bunk with a heavy, hurting heart. He and Cheng Xiaoshi needed this moment where they grew so that the other could take up more space in their lives. Cheng Xiaoshi needed to learn that he would be loved even if he was upsetting. Lu Guang needed to learn to be honest. They were precious truths that would have carried them through the rest of their lives, if Cheng Xiaoshi had lived long enough for it.

Except this was the second time Lu Guang was having this argument. Everything should be the same, but he wasn’t.

He wasn’t because Cheng Xiaoshi was dead, and yet alive for now. Because Cheng Xiaoshi’s mission-driven stubbornness was what got him killed, and Lu Guang now could see the all bloodred flags leading up to September. Because Lu Guang could now name the anxiety that drove Cheng Xiaoshi into doing things now, before the wait of them consumed him alive, but Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t yet and Lu Guang had to keep it to himself. Because he and Cheng Xiaoshi were plunging into the photos of a dead man over and over again, and every time Cheng Xiaoshi said something honest about it, Lu Guang had to swallow down how sick it made him feel. It’s so messed up, Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi had said, that this guy has been dead for half a year, and I feel his heart beating in my chest. Lu Guang buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry, even when Cheng Xiaoshi was not here to see it.

“Then write it down, idiot,” Lu Guang said, only realising belatedly he never said the last word the first time round. “Am I your mother?”

Cheng Xiaoshi flinched. Lu Guang didn’t remember that. He thought Cheng Xiaoshi only gritted his teeth. There was a gleam in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes that could either be tears or nausea, but Lu Guang knew better than to point it out. Any time Lu Guang pointed out where Cheng Xiaoshi was falling apart at the seams, he would dismiss them like they meant nothing, like they weren’t the reason Lu Guang couldn’t sleep at night, terrified of morning.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered.

“I’m tired, asshole!” Lu Guang snapped. He didn’t need a script for this. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like nothing was ever going to be right, and he didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know what to do. “Can’t you give me a break?”

“But you don’t even have to dive!” Cheng Xiaoshi protested. “You can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you!”

Was it easy? Was it easy to watch Cheng Xiaoshi throw himself into the past over and over again and shrug off Lu Guang’s concern as unnecessary, until he ended up on the wrong side of the bullet? To try again and again to look for what went wrong in the past, obsessing over each detail and torn butterfly wing until he scrounged for the right answer? To feel old and young at once, helpless and culpable simultaneously? To constantly lie, even though he was supposed to have grown to be honest?

Go upstairs, his memory urged him. Lock the door behind you. Go.

But something fiercer, louder than his memory took hold of him, balling itself into a fiery pit in his throat and scalding its way out of him.

“It’s easy for me?” Lu Guang choked out. “Is it? I’m the one who has to try and figure out how to fix everything! I have to fix everything, and you never think twice!”

Lu Guang felt the tears bully their way to his lashes, no matter how much he tried to fight them back. He stared at Cheng Xiaoshi until his vision blurred with sickness and fury, the boy he was supposed to save and couldn’t help but fail. I don’t know what to do, his soul cried out. I’m the only one who can fix this and I don’t even know what to do.

“Useless!” Lu Guang hurled.

He didn’t know to whom he was shouting it, but he knew as soon as it landed that he aimed it at the wrong place. Cheng Xiaoshi froze, breath stuck midway up his throat, eyes wide as if he had been shot in the stomach, and Lu Guang knew that look too well. He went as still as stone, scarcely breathing as Lu Guang’s voice settled like the remains of an earthquake, leaving behind silent wreckage.

Lu Guang caught up with his breath, dizzy with the catharsis, until its tingling numbness gave way to sudden realization. This was not how any of this was supposed to go.

Cheng Xiaoshi blinked rapidly, looking away–the tightening of his jaw could not mask the way his lips shook.

“Forget it, then,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. “Let’s just–yeah. Break. Sounds good.”

He stood up from the seat and left the room quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. He hurried out the front door of the shop, the twinkling of the door bell the only thing keeping Lu Guang company as he was left behind in the sunroom.

#link click #LC writes #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #in my gdocs this is titled 'LG soiled the friendship garden'

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 days ago

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(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Two

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing noteworthy on this chapter. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N : ... yeah, Billy is pretty clueless 😅

CHAPTER ONE

Master List

Chapter Two

It all felt like a fever dream and, by the end of it, you were left wondering just what the hell you’d agreed to.

The moment you’d accepted his offer, Mr Russo had switched into what you liked to call his planning mode, becoming hyper-focused on the task at hand, and everything that would be required to make his crazy scheme work. It felt like something straight out of a Nickelodeon show from the 90s, and you could only half keep up as he started making the arrangements.

You knew enough from experience that there was no stopping him once he started on something like this, and all you could do was stand and watch, hoping for the best.

By the time you finally managed to return to your desk, you knew that there was no way out of it and that it was far too late to change your mind.

Still, after his initial flurry of excitement, he got on with his day. To say you were relieved when he left for a meeting across town was something of an understatement - he’d be gone most of the day, leaving you with some time to wrap your head around what you were going to have to do.

But that feeling of relief was short-lived.

Not long after you’d returned from lunch the elevator doors slid open and a package was placed on your desk in front of you. While it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for Mr Russo to have more sensitive packages sent directly to his office, you quickly discovered that the package wasn’t for Mr Russo.

After some back and forth with the delivery guy, mostly confirming that it was your name on the box and that he wasn’t going to leave until you signed for it, you conceded defeat.

What happened next could only aptly be described as a staring competition with a cardboard box.

Despite it bearing your name, you didn’t want to open it just in case there was some mistake. So, you checked through your emails, making sure you hadn’t accidentally ordered something and had it shipped to the office, but there was nothing.

Then you picked up the box and gave it a gentle shake, trying to see if you could tell what it was that way.

Of course, you couldn’t.

Finally, you were left with no choice but to open it, and immediately found yourself confused by what you found.

It was a dress.

A chiffon dress in a gorgeous deep purple colour with a label that told you it was from a boutique in Brooklyn. And a quick google of that boutique’s website left you feeling queasy when you saw just how much they charged for similar dresses.

You only dared remove it from the box for a few seconds, long enough to ascertain that it was a halterneck, midi-length dress with a cinched waist in your size, and long enough to find the invoice.

The invoice solved one mystery but left you with several more unanswered questions.

Mr Russo had bought the dress.

He’d bought you a dress for your fake date, without even asking your opinion or preference.

(Not that it wasn’t gorgeous or something that you wouldn’t have picked yourself if you had that much money to throw away on a dress, but it was the principle of the matter.)

You carefully folded it up, making sure that it was safely wrapped in the bright pink tissue paper it had arrived in before lowering it back into the box and closing it up, grabbing some tape and resealing it. You couldn’t keep it - you had your own clothes and the last thing you needed was Billy Russo dressing you up like... like you were a doll, a plaything.

You’d tell him to send it back the moment he reappeared.

At least, that had been the plan. Over the next couple of hours, your annoyance was mostly pushed aside in favour of getting through the last of your work before the weekend, and when Mr Russo finally reappeared, you weren’t given much of an opportunity to raise your grievances.

He came bustling out the elevator, barely sparing you a look but immediately noticing the box on the floor beside your desk.

“Oh, good, it’s here,” he said, already halfway into his office before you could get to his feet.

Clearly his meeting hadn’t settled or slowed him down.

Normally, you stayed well out of his way when he got like that, when he started rushing around the place like a stressed headless chicken, but you needed to say something about the unwanted gift.

He was rummaging through his desk by the time you entered his office, clearly looking for something.

“The dress -” you started, trying to remain calm and polite.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Had to pull some strings to get it delivered today, but it’ll be worth it,” he said, barely looking at you as he pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk - one of the older ones by the look of it, one of three bottles he kept on hand for various occasions.

“But, I don’t -” you tried again.

“Do you need me to send a driver for you tonight?” He asked as he stepped away from his desk and started back towards the door. “I’d collect you myself but something’s just come up, so I’ll have to meet you at Bianchi’s.”

“Bianchi’s?”

As in one the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in New york? That Bianchi’s.

(He was taking you to the same restaurant Ethan Hawke had been photographed at only a month ago?)

“Yeah, on Madison?” He said as he moved to grab his coat from the coat rack outside his office door and started to pull it on. “The table is booked for seven, so if I send a car -”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take a cab.”

“Okay, excellent, I’ll see you there at about six fifty-five.”

And, then, before you could even think to say another word, he was stepping back into the elevator, leaving you alone again.

Fuck.

He left you feeling worse than you had before, with more questions and worries to contend with.

Of course, it was impossible to get any work done after that; all you could think about was the dress and Bianchi’s, and how you had never before stopped to think about how you and Billy Russo lived in two very different worlds. How were you going to fit into his world for six months? How could you fake it for that long?

But, you also had time to remember why you were doing it and what you were going to get at the end of it all, and that would have to be enough to get you through it.

Besides, it was one fake date - you could keep the tags for the dress and he could take it back after you’d worn it. And, maybe it would all go terribly, maybe he’d realise how out of place you were in his world and he’d reconsider the whole silly idea. There were so many ways that things could play out and, as nervous as you were, some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

People like you didn’t get to eat at places like Bianchi’s, and you loved Italian food.

You snuck out ten minutes early and took a taxi home, knowing that you didn’t have much time to get ready and not wanting to carry such an expensive dress on the subway.

The moment you were through your front door, the panic set in.

First you found yourself rummaging through your wardrobe, desperate to find a pair of shoes that might work with the dress. You settled on a pair of strappy heels you wore to a wedding a few years ago, they pinched your feet but they were all you had. Then you threw yourself in the shower, struggled to do your hair, and finally did your make-up.

When you pulled the dress on, you didn’t know how to feel. It was beautiful but you didn’t feel beautiful wearing it. You stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to pull your stomach in even further than your spanx already was, and smoothing the front of the dress down, hoping to find a way to conceal your obvious curves.

The dress would probably look amazing on one of the beautiful, leggy, thin women Billy usually surrounded himself with. You just looked like a poor imitation.

Deep breath, you told yourself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real.

Six months. That’s all it was.

Six months of playing pretend, of laughing at Mr Russo’s jokes, and convincing everyone that you were a loving, respectable couple.

You could do it.

(For your brother’s sake, you had to do it.)

He was already waiting when you arrived and quickly moved to greet you as you climbed out of the taxi. You felt your cheeks heat as he looked at you, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably; was the make-up too much? Did the cheap shoes you’d picked look terrible with the dress?

For a second you felt your usual, forced smile start to waver, but you managed to keep yourself from losing control of it, wanting to appear as calm and collected as possible.

Before you realised it was happening, he had your hand in his and he was slowly leading you towards the door, but he stopped just shy and looked at you again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

It was as if he could sense your nerves and he was offering you one final chance to escape, and some part of you desperately wanted to take it.

“No, I just...” you started and trailed off, for a few seconds, “well, we didn’t exactly get any time to plan this out.”

You were going into the situation blind and you were sure what was expected of you or what you were supposed to do if anyone asked you any questions.

Hell, you hadn’t even been given the chance to make sure he understood that sex was entirely off the table. (Not that you really thought Billy was interested in anything like that from you.)

“I know,” Billy said with a sigh, “but we should be able to talk over dinner, I asked for one of the quieter tables in the back.” His hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just dinner. We just need to be seen together - everything else can come after. And, you should know that they do amazing tiramisu here.”

That had your smile warming and turning into something far more genuine.

“Tiramisu? Are you trying to make up for something, Mr Russo,” you joked, echoing his words from the day before.

He let out a laugh, seeming amused that you’d remembered.

“It’s Billy,” he said quietly, smiling at you in a way you weren’t sure you’d seen before. “You have to call me Billy from now on.”

“Oh, yes, Mr - I mean Billy.”

And that was going to take a lot of getting used to.

“Come on,” he said, finally reaching for the door and holding it open for you, “our table should be ready now.”

As you stepped into Bianchi’s, you found yourself trailing half a step behind Billy, immediately feeling out of place, like someone was going to ask you to leave and offer you directions to the nearest Burger King. But, with Billy in front of you, you were rendered almost invisible to the staff who all seemed to know him by name.

Still, you managed to keep a smile on your lips as you were slowly led towards the back of the restaurant to a candle lit table that, for reasons you didn’t want to think about, reminded you of that one scene from Lady and the Tramp.

Once you were both sitting at the table, you found yourself wanting to look anywhere but at Billy. It felt weird to look at him in the gentle flickering light of the candles, the soft glow adding a warmth and depth to his features and making his dark eyes seem all the darker. But you immediately regretted allowing your gaze to wander.

You noticed the looks from other diners straight away, though you told yourself that it was Billy they were not so subtly glancing at - he drew attention wherever he went and, well, he looked extra sharp tonight in his charcoal suit and light blue shirt.

Looking down, you wondered what you must look like sitting across from him. Ridiculous, probably.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice cutting through your spiralling thoughts.

“Yeah,” you answered automatically, forcing your gaze back to him, “yeah, just feeling a little out of place.”

Billy shot you a questioning look, but didn’t comment on it. Instead his eyes dropped to the menu in front of him.

“Do you prefer red or white?” He asked after a few seconds.

You stared at him blankly, before realising he was talking about wine. “Oh, white.”

Finally, your attention turned to the menu but found that you couldn’t focus on it. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this wasn’t you; you didn’t get flustered over silly little things.

So what if people thought you didn’t belong there with him?

(It’s not real. It’s not real.)

By the time the waiter appeared, you still hadn’t decided what you wanted, so you decided to defer to his judgement and, if nothing else, it seemed to ingratiate you to the waiter.

“So,” Billy finally said, once your wine had been poured and the pair of you had been left alone to wait for your food. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” you answered, reaching for your glass and taking a slow sip, hoping to calm your nerves.

“Just nice?”

“It’s a restaurant, I can’t exactly make a judgement until I’ve actually tried the food,” you told him, managing to affect a playful enough tone. “The wine’s nice though.”

“I mean, is it nice enough that you think you’re going to be able to stomach six months of this?”

It was difficult to discern if he was talking about the restaurant or his own presence, so instead of answering straight away, you took another drink.

“Why? Is this what you do every night?” You asked jokingly, despite already knowing the answer.

More often than not, you were the one tasked with finding him reservations and responding to invitations on his behalf. Put kindly, Billy Russo had a very active social life, and that was exactly what you were supposed to be helping him change.

After a moment of silence you continued; “it’s fine. Just as long as you don’t expect me to be at your beck and call every single night.”

“What days are you available to be at my beck and call?” He asked, grinning at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Any day except Wednesdays and Sundays.”

You leaned forward a little, wanting to to seem to anyone who looked that you were having some intimate conversation and not planning out the finer details of your fake relationship.

“I’m usually busy on Thursday evenings,” Billy offered.

It was strange that neither of you asked what the other did, but Billy didn’t pry so you didn’t either. If it was ever something you needed to share with him, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“I’ll check your schedule on Monday,” you offered, comforted at the thought of being able to slip back into your role as PA instead of fake date.

“There’s a charity event in a couple of weeks - there’s going to be representatives from VDK there, so I’ll need you for that.”

“Yes, Mr - yes, Billy.”

You feel your cheeks heat as the corner of his lip pulled upwards and, for a moment, he looked ready to make some awful joke, but before he could get the words out, he was interrupted.

“Ah! William!”

It was a loud, booming voice, and it caused your eyes to shoot upwards and towards the kitchen doors. There were two waiters, carrying what seemed to be yours and Billy’s food, and a large, grinning man dressed in chef’s clothes.

“Marco,” Billy said, getting to his feet and throwing an arm around the chef.

You remained seated, frozen, feeling utterly out of the loop and out of place in Billy’s world.

The two men started to talk while plates were placed down on the table in front of you - far more than you’d actually ordered but, from what you could gather from their conversation, the chef had prepared extra just for Billy.

You were left ignored until the waiters disappeared.

“William, you always bring the most beautiful women to my restaurant,” Marco said, moving to your side and taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

Your cheeks instantly started to heat and you found yourself entirely lost for words.

Billy introduced you and you sat there silently, your stomach knotting as he referred to you as his girlfriend, earning a fond laugh from Marco. But, still, you kept a smile on your lips.

“You have exquisite taste,” Marco said.

The rest of their brief conversation became white noise as you fought against all the unsettling and uncomfortable thoughts that started to fill your head again. But it was hard not to feel a certain way, to not feel like everyone who knew him, everyone who saw you together, would be comparing you to the women who’d come before - the women he’d actually wanted.

It was a feeling you weren’t used to, a feeling you didn’t even understand. You blended into the background, you were a side character, you weren’t the love interest or the woman that people called pretty. You were just... you.

And, in a way, it made you angry. You hated that he was putting you in a position to be compared to the other women to begin with.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked as he finally sat back down.

“You've -” you hesitated, taking a moment to really consider whether you wanted to ask the question, “- brought other women here?”

“Of course,” Billy answered, oblivious to how that was making you feel.

You looked down at your plate and considered just leaving it at that, but you didn't want to. Six months of this would be unbearable. You needed to say something, if only to protect your own sanity. If you were going to do this, if you were going to help him, you couldn’t just let him carry on as normal.

“I'd suggest if you want people to believe that this,” you waved your hand in the empty space between you, “is real, then you shouldn't just treat me like one of your one night stands.”

He looked at you, completely confused, not sure what you were trying to get at.

“This is one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York -”

“Exactly, and I'm sure that fact is a real pantie-dropper, but that's not the message you need to convey if you want to sell this.”

“So, what? I'm supposed to take you to Pizza Hut?”

You rolled your eyes and resisted the urge to slump back in your seat. “If you want people to believe it, then it shouldn't matter where we are, just that we're enjoying each other’s company.”

Billy continued to stare at you blankly and you found yourself wondering if he'd ever had a real, meaningful relationship before.

“If you treat me like them, everyone is going to assume that I mean as much to you as they did,” you said, trying one last time.

“Why are you assuming that they meant nothing?”

He had you there. It wasn't a fair assumption to make, not really. All you knew about him and his life away from work was what you picked up through gossip that you only ever half paid attention to. Maybe they had meant something to him, maybe he wasn't the one always ending things. Maybe he was genuinely clueless.

“I'm sorry, you're right, I don't really know anything about you outside of work,” you conceded. “But that doesn't change the fact that you need to alter people's perception of you, and bringing someone like me to a restaurant like this isn't going to cut it.”

"Someone like you? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, starting to sound exasperated.

For a moment you looked at him, betraying that awkward flicker of hurt that you felt for reasons you didn't entirely understand. Then you looked down at yourself, at the expensive dress he had chosen for you, paired with your own cheap heels and jewellery; you felt fucking ridiculous, like a kid playing dress up in one of your mother's dresses.

“I mean, I'm not the sort of woman you can put in a dress like this and bring to a place like this, Billy,” you said, only to earn an even more confused look from him. “Look at me, I - I clearly don't belong here, people are looking at me thinking I'm either after your money or I'm someone you need to fuck to get a contract.”

The irony of the second option wasn't lost on you.

“What?” He asked, still not getting it.

You sighed. “If you bring me to places you've brought other women, all anyone is going to do is compare me to them. They're going to want to know why you downgraded from runway models and wealthy heiresses to... to me.”

Billy's lips parted instantly, and you knew he was about to say the very first thing to come to mind, but then he surprised you by saying nothing. You weren't sure if his silent agreement made it better or worse — you didn't want him lying to you, trying to compare you to other women, but at the same time, his silence just seemed to confirm all your worst feelings about yourself.

“Okay,” he said finally, “how about, from now on, you decide where we go?”

There was something in his voice that you didn't want to think too hard about, an uncomfortable resignation. Billy Russo was a man who liked to be in control, a man who didn't like being told what to do but, in this situation, he was allowing himself to trust you.

You both started to eat, making little comments about the food and, every so often, you’d catch Billy looking at you, like he was trying to somehow figure you out. By the time you finished eating and dessert was on the way, you felt like you needed to break the silence.

“Do you like movies?” You asked.

“Depends,” Billy answered, confused by the sudden question. “Why?”

“There’s a horror movie festival in Queens in a couple of weeks, they’re going to be showing loads of the old classics...”

It was meant as a suggestion, an invitation, but it went right over Billy’s head.

“Oh,” was all he offered.

You sighed. “I meant we could go. Together. If you want...”

“Like a date?” He asked, and you nodded. “Isn’t that a little childish?”

For a moment you forced yourself to bite your tongue, offended on more levels that you could really hope to verbalise.

“I happen to like old horror movies, and if you want anyone to believe this is real -”

“Right,” he conceded. “Okay, fine, I guess we could do that.”

Then, again, you slipped back into that awkward silence through dessert.

Still, you kept smiling, all the while thinking about how it was going to be a really long six months.

Once the bill was paid and you were ready to leave, you found Billy taking your hand in his again, holding you a little tighter than he had before as he led you out of the restaurant and into the cold night air. You were about ready to pull away from him, to get yourself a taxi when his hand gave a gentle tug on yours.

You turned to face him, confused, and you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he muttered softly.

In the time it took for the words to register and for you to come to terms with the fact that he was the one saying them, Billy’s lips were on yours. It started softly, a testing peck before pulling back an inch or two, then it became something else entirely.

His arm slipped around your waist, pulling you against him. Your own arms ended up around him - though you couldn't rightly say if it was to pull him closer or to keep yourself from falling over. At some point your eyes drifted shut and you allowed him to part the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Fuck, if this is how he kisses, it's no wonder he's got so many women falling over themselves to be with him, you thought.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the treacherous organ knocking against your ribs with each desperate thump. You were pressed so close to him, you wondered if he could feel it. It stoked a fire in your belly, something you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that you couldn't stop or control. You almost dared to want more, for the kiss to become some wild and untameable thing.

When the kiss finally broke and your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted by the sight of his smile, and it did little to quell the awkward feeling of wanting that had started to grow inside you. His hand tenderly cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your lower lip and - fuck, you had to wonder if he was deliberately trying to drive you insane.

Your breath hitched, and, for a moment - a really fucking stupid moment - you almost let yourself wonder if it had been real.

“That should sell it,” he muttered softly before pressing one more gentle kiss to your lips.

Right.

It wasn't real. It was all just an act. A really convincing act.

Still, he lingered, one hand pressed to the small of your back while the thumb of the other traced your lips.

“Right,” you said just as softly, unable to tear your eyes from his.

Neither of you moved for a second more until Billy finally pulled away and took your hand in his again.

Your heart continued to pound in your chest as he led you away from the restaurant and towards his car, not stopping to even ask or offer you a lift home, and you found yourself idly wondering if his driver had been sitting out there waiting the whole time you'd been eating. He sprang out of the car the moment he saw you and Billy approaching and quickly opened the door for you.

Billy held your hand, helping you into the car like a gentleman — and, honestly, you really couldn't get over seeing that side of him. Then he moved around to the other side of the car where the door was being held open for him.

You’d been in his car before, but never like this, never for anything other than work. (Though, you grimly had to concede that this was like work in a very fucked up way.)

You didn’t even have to give the driver your address; with one word from Billy you were on your way. As the car started to move, you found yourself looking out the window at the streets of New York, all the bright lights and bustle of people going about their evenings. It had been an overwhelming evening to say the least, so you barely even noticed when Billy took your hand in his again.

It was for the driver’s benefit, you assumed. Everyone was going to have to buy the fact that you were dating, including all the people you came across in your day to day lives. And it quickly occurred to you that you still hadn’t really discussed much of anything about the arrangement - you’d been so preoccupied with your own awkward feelings that you’d spent half of the meal in silence, instead of figuring things out.

“So,” Billy said - and you were really starting to hate the way that he did that, “what did you think of Bianchi’s?”

Your attention turned back to him, though you quickly found your gaze dropping to your hand in his.

“You were right,” you said, forcing your smile again, “the tiramisu was amazing.”

A laugh seemed to spill out of him unbidden and, for a moment, he looked as surprised by it as you were. It sounded so real, so genuine and, suddenly, you found yourself wondering something odd; was he just like you? Did he fake his way through the day in the hopes that it would make things easier for him?

Of course, you didn’t ask. It was far too personal and gave too much away, but it felt like, for the briefest of seconds, you’d finally seen something real, something you hadn’t even realised existed.

Your smile softened and you sank back in your seat, allowing your fingers to tighten around his just a fraction.

“What’s your favourite movie?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, a little surprised that he was finally making an effort. “I guess it changes? I like a lot of movies.”

“Well, what’s your favourite right now?”

“Probably the first Omen movie?”

“Isn’t that movie older than I am?” Billy joked.

Strangely, it was the first time you’d even thought about his age - though, now that you had, it would no doubt add another weird level to the way you were thinking about your fake relationship.

“There are lots of movies that are older than you, Billy,” you said. “Besides, I like the classics.”

“I’ve never been called a classic before.”

The comment had you laughing unexpectedly and Billy quickly joined in. What a sight you must have looked to the poor driver, the pair of you giggling uncontrollably at such a terrible line.

“That’s awful,” you finally managed to say, awkwardly trying to wipe the tears from your eyes without smudging mascara all over your cheeks. “I didn’t know you made such terrible jokes.”

“I’m a man of hidden depths,” Billy answered.

“What about you? What’s your favourite movie?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going now you’d finally managed to escape from the awkwardness.

“I don’t know. I’ve always preferred reading.”

“Really?” You asked. You didn’t mean to sound shocked, but it wasn’t something you’d expected. “Well, what’s your favourite book then?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Huh.”

“Huh?” He repeated, almost laughing again. “What’s ‘huh’ mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just -” you felt your cheeks heating again, “- I don’t know, I just never pictured you enjoying something with such a downer ending?”

“You’ve read it?”

You nodded. “And I’ve seen at least two of the movie adaptations.”

“Okay, well, what’s your favourite book?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” you answered without hesitation.

“Huh,” Billy said, obviously fighting to keep a smile from his lips.

“What?” You asked, contending with a smile of your own.

“Oh, nothing...”

You opened your mouth, ready to demand an answer when the car came to a stop and you realised that you were outside your building.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from Billy’s and watched as the driver rounded the car to let you out. You moved slowly, taking extra care not to snag the dress or do anything that might ruin it, still intent on returning it to Billy.

You didn’t notice Billy move as you got out of the car, but, by the time you were standing on the sidewalk, he was at your side. His hand found yours again and you shot him a confused look.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said. A statement, not a question or an offer.

“It’s fine, I -”

“It’s not fine. Your building doesn’t even have a doorman.”

If you didn’t know any better you might have thought he was worried, but the show was probably all for the driver. Still, you really didn’t want Billy to see your apartment.

“Most normal apartment buildings don’t, Billy,” you said, rolling your eyes before lowering your voice.” Besides, I don’t think anyone is watching.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m walking you in.”

And, with that, he started towards the door to your building, leaving you no choice but to fall into step beside him.

Once inside, there was no missing the way he looked around the place, judging it. Judging you. The only small mercy to be found in the situation was the fact that the elevator was working and not plastered in the usual Out of Order signs.

You tried to leave Billy at the elevator and, again, he refused. He followed you in, watching as you punched the button for the fourth floor. And, by that point, the situation seemed so surreal to you, that you didn't even think twice about the fact that your hand was still in his.

A/N : 😅 Poor Billy has no idea what women want. Don't worry, reader's not going to forget about the dress issue. I'm definitely going to have a lot of fun playing around with their dynamic while they slowly get to know each other. Also I genuinely didn't intend to end this chapter here, I planned a lot after but then this got really long 😅

I had a busy week so I didn't get much time to do much of the other stuff I wanted to do and get this chapter done on time so I'm still getting through my 500 follower celebration stuff (I think I've got 5 things left to finish?)

As always, thanks so much for reading! I really loved seeing all the comments on the first chapter!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @intothesoul @uniquehijo

@anitaxl @solacedragonx @justiceforquentin @ladyblacky @marvelsunlightt

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #(ii)wii ff

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yingdu-lover · 1 month ago

Text

Right now, I can't cite those sources, I'll paste the link when I find them.

Rambling time!

Omg, I have always thought about this! Cheng Xiaoshi is

1. Tall, tanned and handsome (fork in the kitchen, surprise!)

2. Talented singer, so much so that Lu Guang closes his eyes and then sincerely compliments with a solemn expression. (ref - ep 8, season 1)

3. Skilled basketball player, athelete

4. Also skilled in martial arts

and something, SOMETHING even I misinterpreted very much, and this is coming from Li Haoling himself,

5. Cheng Xiaoshi is also academically gifted. Lu Guang and his first meeting was in high school and after qualifying university entrance examination, they got into the same tier university. Haoling describes Cheng Xiaoshi as someone who will perform badly in class, getting 60 or something in class tests and will pull an all nighter before exams and score 90 or above.

So the kind of 'good for nothing' image of Cheng Xiaoshi (ik not all but there are people) is not true. He is truly a multi-talented guy with a charming and cheerful personality (I mean come on his mbti is ESFP).

About his popularity and having friends...

I have always headcanoned that Cheng Xiaoshi chose Lu Guang one day and just never let him go. His choice to spend time with Lu Guang is an active choice and not out of his status of being 'friendless'. I have no one so I'll hang out with lu guang because he only tolerates me/gives me 'patta'. Nope.

The host asks Haoling why Qiao Ling said that before Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi didn't have any friends...and Haoling replies with,

"There is a difference between ordinary friends and true friends, Qiao Ling is referring to the latter. The kind of friend you would open your heart to, embrace with your body and heart, show your most vulnerable core..."

So Lu Guang is that to Cheng Xiaoshi.

I mean, yes, people have different interpretations but I have always been very uncomfortable with that discourse which undermines the intimate bond Shiguang share, it's very underwhelming.

It's both psychological and physical. Season 1 is full of these moments. For Lu Guang, I can say he is the kind of person who just doesn't care about people (I think people might misinterpret it. let me explain. I am not implying he is a sociopath, he is responsible, he manages a lot of things and he considers a given situation with due seriousness BUT he is never actively trying to discuss his extremely personal judgement with anyone EXCEPT your name is Cheng Xiaoshi. He is rational, aloof, respectful towards others as it is a general decorum he follows; all of these have an avalanche breakdown while interacting with Cheng Xiaoshi. I can tell you ( as a fellow introvert scorpio who almost shares his mbti, he judges, I prospect) Lu Guang will probably never curse anyone who is not Cheng Xiaoshi. Decorum and etiquette gives away when he is with him. He does not care about what kind of impression others get of him, but his otherwise solemn demeanour just deliciously fails- he gets angry, frustrated, extremely angry, he (sharply) mocks, he calls him names because he can. Cheng Xiaoshi can install all those feelings in him which he never really publicly displays. Throughout season 1, we often forget that we witness extremely intimate and private Shiguang moments. The stories of the clients progress as it leaves room for Shiguang to interact. The way Lu Guang straight up yells at Cheng Xiaoshi sometimes when he doesn't seem to understand something is so relatable lol. There are fools who allude to that chibi episode where Cheng Xiaoshi asks Lu Guang with hopeful™ eyes " do you think I am handsome?" and Lu Guang goes like "😨🤢🤮" and try to argue that Lu Guang is het 😭 man. Get some IQ. Lmao, Shiguang bicker like an old married couple, and tbh I would react similarly if I had a partner like that.), he cares about Cheng Xiaoshi's morals and perceptions. He seems to be very possessive of Cheng Xiaoshi but Cheng Xiaoshi being Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi does not mind it.

I can't fucking forget that scene when inspector Xiao Li approached Cheng Xiaoshi for Emma's case and Lu Guang just grabbed his wrist and straight up said to the police inspector with all seriousness,

"Before talking to him, you have to talk to me."

I mean- bro-

Cheng Xiaoshi is an adult goddamnit. Lu Guang has no interest in negotiating or discussing the case, and no that is NOT the behaviour of a business partner/manager.

Yingdu episode 1 : Normal friends do not move into your house as an act of apologising. Lu Guang went - I was the reason you were injured, I apologise, I will stay with you (as compensation?). And the conversation escalated to the point where he said "I'll never leave."

heh?

And in ep 8, season 1, he is telling Cheng Xiaoshi to sleep on the couch 😭 bitch it is his house.

(ok, while writing I just suddenly teared up thinking that Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi died. We will never see their original interaction, the Cheng Xiaoshi Lu Guang probably imagined his future with...there was a violent separation and everything stopped altogether. This Cheng Xiaoshi-ok ok it's too painful to think rn I can't )

um, I might have had a shiguang meltdown and I can't continue this rn. will edit later

hi, I came back

so,

about lu guang, we get to see 50 shades of lu guang only because cheng xiaoshi is there.

on the other hand, cheng xiaoshi...

I can't stop thinking about the earthquake episode. Cheng Xiaoshi slapped lu guang. Then hugged him while crying. Then lu guang calls him 'silly melon'. Can you fathom this level of emotional intimacy with someone? what level of intimacy would you need to achieve to let the very person hold you gently and intimately and call you by sweet nicknames who offended you in the first place? it's huge. Cheng Xiaoshi's trust in lu guang is beyond comprehension and no it's not just portrayed in life and death situations, rather shown in vignettes of everyday suffering.

#link click #shiguang daili ren #shiguang #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #yingdu chapter #donghua #时光代理人 #bridon arc #guangshi

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avoidantrecovery · 10 months ago

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my thoughts on rejection sensitivity, fawning, criticism and how i want to get better about them

these are just some notes/me thinking aloud/me writing notes to myself and putting things into perspective/connecting some dots. maybe others can relate.

✦ abandonment/rejection based trauma leads to... ✦ needing to be accepted and liked by any- and everyone (fawning) to restore safety/ensure feeling safe which leads to... ✦ due to being stuck in trauma response/having a trauma rewired brain: strong sensitivity and fear of any kind of rejection or criticism, which leads to... ✦ responsibility for your emotions and self-perceptions are outsourced (for the lack of a better word) to (random) third persons (who are not even aware of this). which leads to... ✦ difficulty to interact and communicate with people without crushing hypervigilance, anxiety, numbing, strong emotional reactions... leads to... ✦ random third parties and their reaction to us (be it via facial expressions, tone, conversation, action or inaction, etc...) now makes or breaks our emotional state ✦ a positive reaction gives us (if we're lucky) positive emotions (dopamine, safety, elation) a negative reaction however leads to the exact opposite -> we are at the whims of random people ✦ inevitable negative feedback then leads to severe negative emotions including anxiety, shame, self-devaluing and self-abuse ✦ this becomes a cycle of wanting others to reflect that "we are good" back to us in places where it's not relevant and will lead to negative feedback and rejection, isolating and then doing it all over again.

what to do instead?

✸ realize that this is a cycle that is happening and why (trauma) ✸ be mindful and have self-compassion for your past (fawning) behaviour to avoid shame and self-hate (you were stuck in a trauma response, not doing it on purpose) ✸ realize that minute reactions of all people doesn't have to matter to you. this is something you have to practise day in day out, because your brain is stuck in this mode. ✸ it's fucked up that we often have to deal with people who are outright hostile and having a negative reaction to that is normal and healthy. however, everyone who has ever felt the overwhelming crushing sensation of rejection sensitivity knows there is a difference between that and "a healthy negative reaction". ✸ we shouldn't have to internalize and emotionally tattoo every minute thing someone else says or does to us, esp. if they are hostile ✸ it shouldn't control us for the rest of the day, week, month or even longer ✸ there is nothing we can do to control others behaviour (even by prostrating and fawning to the max), it is not even our responsibility, but we can try to better manage and process our own emotions to ensure we are not constantly dysregulated. ✸ use "the levels method" to sort to what degree someone's feedback matters to you ✸ realize that you will probably fall back into old behaviour patterns because "nerves that fire together, wire together". meaning it is through repetition that we form new habits and it's by reducing "firing" old behaviour patterns that we are able to eventually let them go.

the levels method

✸ level 1: random strangers on the street: 0.5/5 ✸ level 2: random people you see daily (neighbors, barista, etc...): 1/5 ✸ level 3: work/school people 2/5 (only professional/educational stuff matters, do not take things personal or internalize professional critic as personal critic, i know this is hard and often unfair) ✸level 4: acquaintances and friends: 3/5 ✸ level 5: family and good friends: 4/5 ✸ level 6: your own selected loved ones 5/5

☞ i just came up with this little method that i will try to use to weigh my emotions and how seriously i have to take people's reactions to me. again, it's not easy and it's something that has to be practised to get right. however, the idea is to get away from processing the random reaction of a stranger, or even of a co-worker or client, with the same intensity and seriousness of selected loved one whose feedback i obviously care about a lot.

what if i don't have loved ones?

✸ this is one thing that has been bothering me ✸ i think for some people the "outsourcing" of emotions onto other people and that whole cycle, is intensified by not having any selected loved ones due to isolation etc... ✸ it's likely that you will, perhaps without being aware of it, begin to look for emotional feedback (to feel safe due to trauma brain) from people who fall within level 1-level 3 or 4. ✸ people need social contact and if there is nobody else around we might look to have our emotional needs met by people who aren't even aware or responsible for that ✸ i am currently in this situation and all i can do for now, until i do find new selected loved ones, is to be aware when i do it and steer away from it when it happens. ✸ if you are in contact with family or friends, this can be a better outlet as random strangers or classmates/co-workers

(not medical advice, just thinking out loud)

#avpd recovery #avoidant personality disorder #avoidant #avoidance #rejection sensitivity #rejection #ostracism #rejection sensitive dysphoria #criticism #fawning #cptsd fawn

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iamsherlocked-1998 · 4 months ago

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NUTS AND ENGINES

SUMMARY: A visit to the mechanic and a new beginning.

WORDS: 1200

WARNING: Nope, only that the reader is a Mandalorian here and not Din, so when I say "Mando" it´s about her.

In the bustling spaceport of Mos Eisley, Din Djarin worked diligently in his small mechanic's shop, surrounded by the hum of engines and the clatter of tools. He was aware of the fame he had built up over the past few years, known for his ability to repair all manner of spacecraft, Din considered himself a quiet and solitary figure, but affable and cheerful, content with the mild isolation of his work.

One day, a mysterious figure dressed in Mandalorian armor entered his shop, seeking repairs for her ship. He couldn't help but shudder a little, his scant knowledge of them based on perceptions from childhood when he was rescued from the ashes of what used to be his forgotten home before being sent to this piece of land to live with a relative he barely knew.

The first day she just hung around the workshop and briefly introduced herself as Mando, but an old friend from an adjacent cantina managed to find out that the enigmatic woman turned out to be a renowned and legendary bounty hunter with a reputation that preceded her. Intrigued by the enigmatic Mandalorian before him, the next day Din offered to work on the ship, eager to test his mechanical prowess.

"It could use a tune-up and my usual mechanics are taking a break, how many credits would that be?"

Djarin offered a sardonic smile.

"Well, that's something you can't know until you check it out in depth, sweetheart, but I promise I'll give you a good price" (That was accompanied by a slight wink in a crude attempt to get attention).

The Mandalorian just nodded softly and left without another word, leaving the man blushing intensely. That wasn't even close to what he regretted the most. As Din delved into the intricate repairs of the ancient ship, which could well be described as a relic, he reflected on the other, much more interesting things he could be doing, but he was still a man of his word and he wasn't going to give up. Despite the two brief interactions, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the stoic yet captivating presence of the Mandalorian warrior. Their conversations were meaningful, with an unspoken understanding floating in the air between them, especially when the woman simply rolled up her sleeves and began to help him.

"Where did you learn?" (The question surprised the dark-haired man, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity).

"Well, when I was young I spent a lot of time alone because my uncle wasn't a man of many words and even less with alcohol, so one day I went to the city and signed up as an apprentice, that's how I earned a living and killed time".

The woman turned her visor to the ground thoughtfully.

"Is that where you got the necklace from?"

He was about to ask when she looked where the jacket was leaning, it was a kind of tool box where he kept an amulet from the worst day of his life. A mythosaur.

"No... I don't like to talk about it but your people helped me in a time of need and I preferred to keep it".

"I could say the same".

The man reached for a dirty rag to remove the oil dirt from his hands. A sigh of understanding left his lips.

"Is it true what they say, you always wear that helmet?" (He pointed to his own face inquisitively).

"This is the way".

The days passed in apparent tranquility, the young woman had become a little more vocal and was proud of having gotten a kind of laugh out of her once. However, before Din could finish his work, chaos erupted in the spaceport as a group of bounty hunters descended upon the girl, seeking to claim the bounty on her head. Instinctively, Din sprang into action, using the few skills his uncle, a man better with his fists than with words, had instilled in him, upbringing to support Mando and fend off attackers.

He and his peculiar client barricaded themselves behind a set of scrap metal. The woman had a sharp aim that made him think with pity of their targets if they weren't in this situation.

In the heat of battle, Din entered the ship for added safety while his partner dealt with several stray undesirables mercilessly. He inadvertently discovered a secret Mando had been hiding: a small, green creature emerged from a cubbyhole of sorts, looking frightened and immediately turning its face away when the mechanic approached.

"Hey... little one, it's okay" (the man extended a finger for the boy to hold, which helped, as he was able to pick up the baby and find a better place to hide).

So that was the reason the woman was so scrupulous about emptying the warehouse before starting work and always left for a while, maybe she knew someone nearby who helped her with the child.

Once she understood that the man was inside, the child's guardian (mother?) entered the ship abruptly and prepared to take off. Apparently the rescued pupil was named Grogu, he had a connection to the Force like nothing Din had ever seen before, although the Mandalorian never heard of it. This revelation struck a chord within Din, awakening emotions and memories long buried in him, when he lost his parents as a tender infant.

A few hours later Grogu entertained himself by floating Din's necklace through the air, the only thing he could rescue when the attackers were too many and left without further delay.

"He is amazing" (Djarin meant it, he understood that any self-respecting person would want to keep him safe).

"He is" (The woman used a surprisingly soft tone) "You can't go back to that place, now they will look for you too".

With no choice but to leave the safety of Mos Eisley behind, Din made the fateful decision to accompany Mando and Grogu on their journey, his heart torn between the prudence of duty and the new connection he felt towards them.

“I suppose there is no other remedy, at least for now. Would a mechanic suit you?”

The hunter said nothing but the playful clicking of fingers on the control panel expressed all he needed to know.

Weeks turned into months. As they traversed the galaxy together, facing danger and adventure at every turn, Din and Mando found themselves growing closer, their bond forged through trials and challenges that tested their resolve. In the quiet moments beneath the starry sky, Din found solace in the reserved woman’s unwavering strength and determination, while she discovered a depth of compassion and loyalty in Din’s open character that touched her heart. Casual touches turned to frantic kisses in the darkness of the ship’s belly.

Amidst the chaos of their unpredictable lives, love blossomed between the stoic Mandalorian bounty hunter and the intrepid mechanic, tying their destinies together in a story written in the stars. And as they sailed across the vast expanse of the galaxy side by side, Djarin and Mando knew that in each other they had found something worth fighting for: a love that transcended the boundaries of space and time, binding them together in a bond that was as unbreakable as beskar steel.

NOTE: This was really funny to write, maybe I'll write about this universe again, the fic is an idea of @toomanystoriessolittletime for the 8k celebration, hope you like it 🤗💕

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando!reader #mechanic Din Djarin

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multidimensionalguidance · 1 year ago

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📚💸 Career + Wealth Analysis 💸📚

One of the most frequent questions astrologers receive from their clients when doing a chart reading is about their career, profession or work.

The labor we do on an everyday basis is essential when it comes to our finances and self fulfillment. It can either be something we enjoy doing that meets all of our needs, or what brings a paycheck yet lacks inner satisfaction.

There are several ways to confirm if the work you are doing is activating your Venus properly, and you may wonder why that planet in particular? Simple! Venus is related to finances, luxury, and comfort. The jobs that align with our Venus sign tend to be the ones that not only fits into our financial needs, but also provides a genuine feeling of contentment.

So, if you want the straight forward answer to “What career/field/job/hobby can help me create wealth and feel joyful about it?” Then Venus is your short answer. Remember that wealth will look differently for everyone since we all have different perceptions of how much money is truly enough to have the lifestyle we dream of.

Look for the Sidereal sign that your Venus falls in, find below the careers or fields related to it, and confirm for yourself the difference in your wealth accumulation once you incorporate it into your life.

Note: please keep in mind that if your Venus is conj, square or opposite a malefic planet/s (Mars, Saturn, Rahu/Ketu), there will be some natural resistance or challenges that you will experience throughout life with work, job, profession, or financial matters. Venus in Virgo, Scorpio, and Capricorn to a degree could also experience similar experiences.

The house where this planet is placed also tells a lot about the way your job manifests in your life (places, people, etc). Now, there are many ways to remediate any negative effects, so no need to be concerned or feel doomed.

There are many advanced Vedic Astrologers who mostly focus on remediation of planets that are in difficult or challenged positions, so take a look at the options available if you ever feel like there's an extra difficulty for you in those matters.

♈️➡️ Vocations that require independence, daring and the pioneering spirit: entrepreneurs, pioneers in any field, idea people, those who initiate new projects, troubleshooters, directors, adventurers, executives.

Firemen or fire fighters, forest rangers, engineers (metallurgical), members of the armed forces, firearms experts, police officers, machinists, mechanics, iron and steel workers, locksmiths, welders, athletics that involve speed and daring, race car drivers, contact sports, boxers, dancers, movement therapists, physical education instructors, surgeons.

♉️➡️ Vocations dealing with the earth and substance: farmers, ranchers, agriculture instructors, landscape architects, gardeners, rock collectors (semi-precious gems), builders, carpenters, building contractors, concrete pourers, chiropractors, massage therapists, computer programmers.

Occupations involved with money and finance: bankers, bank tellers, stock brokers, financiers, money managers, investment advisors, security analysts, treasurers, economists.

Artists, sculptors, jewelers, pottery makers, fashion designers, tailors, florists, musicians, singers, voice teachers, throat specialists.

♊️➡️ Vocations involved with communication or transportation: authors, proofreaders, ad copywriters, screenplay writers, editors, reporters, teachers, lecturers, linguists, speech therapists, librarians, bookstore owners, publishers, magazine employees.

Radio operators or disc jockeys, television producers, telephone operators or repair persons, telemarketers, stationery store owners, journalists, salespeople, printers, book distributors, clerks, office workers, secretaries, typists, typesetters.

Messengers, mail carriers, taxi drivers, bus drivers, railway employees, plane pilots, accountants, jacks-of-all-trades. Can engage in two or more occupations at once.

♋️➡️ Vocations that nurture: physically or emotionally (especially through food): caterers, restaurant owners, chefs, cooks, bakers, waiters and waitresses, confectioners, dairy farmers, grocers, food distributors, nutritionists.

Social workers, counselors, psychics, nurses, family therapists, preschool teachers, children's writers, tioners, caretakers, water-related occupations, plumbers, swimmers, lifeguards, fishermen.

All careers dealing with the home: realtors, hotel managers, innkeepers, homemakers, governesses, maids, laundry workers.

♌️➡️ Performers of all types: actors and actresses, playwrights, entertainers, dancers, singers, musicians, movie stars, circus performers, jugglers, clowns, sports figures, teachers (good teachers are entertainers), amuse ment park owners, speculators, gamblers.

Leaders of all types: executives, managers, government officials, politicians, foremen, judges, athletes, salespeople, the profession of selling, promoters, dia: mond and precious metal brokers, gold workers, heart specialists, all vocations involving children.

♍️➡️ Vocations dealing with analysis, detail and technical expertise: statisticians, accountants, book-keepers, computer programmers, teachers of technical subjects, stenographers, critics, inspectors of all types, draftsmen, graphic artists, technical illustrators, crafts-people, specialists.

Health occupations and the social services, mental health workers, therapists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, social workers, employment counselors, nurses, doctors, massage therapists, respiratory techairians, dental hygienists, dentists, secretaries, office managers, food service worker, nutritionist, waiters and waitresses, dieticians, veterinarians, zoologist, sanitation workers, janitors, public health officials, house cleaners, butlers.

♎️➡️ Vocations that pursue balance, harmony and justice: negotiators and counselors of all types, marriage counselors, wedding related businesses, diplomats, labor arbitrators, judges, lawyers, managers, salespeople.

Occupations dealing with beauty: artists, architects, painters, illustrators, photographers, fashion designers, fashion industry workers, milliners, color consultants, clothing store owners or salespeople, beauticians, hairdressers, cosmeticians, interior and exterior decorators, cosmetic manufacturers and dealers, jewelers, florists, candy makers.

♏️➡️ Vocations that focus on uncovering hidden secrets: researchers, muckraking journalists, investigators, detectives, physicists, occultists, those who work behind the scenes, espionage agents, psychics, astrologers, all matters dealing with death, funeral home directors, morticians, cemetery workers, insurance salespeople, soldiers, those working under the earth, undertakers.

Those who work as healers. all medical practitioners, physicians, nurses, psychiatrists, psychologists, surgeons, pharmacists, pathologists, past-life investigators, hospice workers, chemists, music therapist, musicians.

♐️➡️ Vocations dealing with exploration, travel and adventure: explorers, astronomers, travel agents, airline employees, flight attendants, astronauts, import-export agents, foreign correspondents, language interpreters, traveling salespeople, promoters, customs officers, athletes of all types, archers, sporting goods manufacturers, horse trainers, breeders and jockeys.

Occupations dealing with higher knowledge: philosophers, college professors, ministers, theologians, missionaries, preachers, orators, publishers, metaphysical writers, philanthropists, lawyers.

♑️➡️ Vocations dealing with administering and organizing: administrators of all types, managers, business owners, executives, government officials, politicians, judges, manufacturers, coordinators, principals at schools, wardens, disciplinarians, buyers, consul-tants, vocational counselors.

Occupations that work with form and structure: architects, contractors, builders, carpenterivil and rivil and get industrial engineers, economists, chiropractors, orthopedic specialists, osteopaths, miners, landowners, mountain climbers.

♒️➡️ Vocations dealing with progress and inven-tion: inventors, scientists, educators, researchers, astrologers, social workers, psychologists, futurists, humanitarians, social reformers, United Nations workers, employees of world relief organizations, future-oriented occupations, astronauts, airplane pilots, aviators, parachutists, hang glider pilots, solar energy researchers, physicists, radio and television technicians, electricians, electrical engineers.

♓️➡️ Vocations of a spiritual, healing or artistic na-ture: religious workers, priests, monks, nuns, sisters of mercy, rabbis, clairvoyants, mediums, charity workers, prison workers.

Physicians, faith healers, psychic healers, nurses, hospital workers, psychiatrists, psychologists, hypnotists, anesthesiologists, podiatrists. Poets, musicians, writers (inspirational, fantasy, metaphysical, science fiction), actors, dancers, painters, artists, entertainers, comedians, singers, filmmakers.

Water-related activities, fishermen, sailors, divers, swimmers, lifeguards, marine scientists, oceanographers, bartenders, oil industry workers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is your Venus sign all you need to know to find all the clues and perfect descriptions to tailor your ideal professional life? No, but it is a huge start in a small way and with short information.

If you guys would like to go more in depth with career astrology, then also take your time to check the following, and find the common theme:

•10H sign + where its lord is located

•D10 Lagna (Dasamsa chart)

•Mahadasha planet in your chart, the house its located, and where the lord goes.

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teufelsabbiss · 1 year ago

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Story-idea: Shen Yuan and his sister transmigrate

There are a lot of good stories already with Shen Yuan transmigrating into a young child that gets adopted by Shen Qingqiu. Most don't account for a glaringly obvious problem in this setup - Shen Qingqiu's hate of men. And I think boys are very much included in that sentiment. So what if Shen Yuan and his meimei transmigrate and she's the reason they get picked up?

Shen Yuan and his sister could have a traffic accident, maybe she's driving him while he's furiously tipping his last hate reply. Both are transmigrated into siblings that are sold to a brothel. Luckily they are both too young to offer full services yet and do chores instead. Shen Yuan doesn't recognize the brothel's name from the book, so he thinks they are at least out of the way of any revenge or wife plots until they can escape. Turns out they won't stay there long enough to even come up with a good plan.

A few days after they were sold, his little sister has to wait on one of the clients. Said client is very displeased to see such a young girl there. To make it worse for the brothel owner, the little Shen sister is very cute and funny and so apparently somehow manages to immediately worm her way into the guys heart and he promptly buys her contract.

He tells her that he has no bad intentions towards her, but will instead take her to his sect to learn cultivation. She doesn't really believe him at first and also refuses to leave without her brother. He's not overly happy that he has to buy a boy as well, but does it readily enough anyway.

Miraculously, after their contracts has changed hands, the brothel owner dies under tragic circumstances. You see, he was killed by a resentful ghost. But luckily the aforementioned client just happens to be a cultivator who was on a mission and just got there on his way back to his sect. And while he was too late to prevent the tragic death, he got rid of the ghost quickly after the murder. Case closed; what a relief for the local authorities! One of the prostitutes is happy to take over the establishment.

The Shen siblings aren't stupid, their new owner obviously murdered the guy and fooled the guards with this bullshit ghost story! No complaints about that, really. It does however also mean that this guy is unscrupulous and it will be more dangerous to get away than before. Learning that the man is actually the scum-villan Shen Qingqiu definitely doesn't make the situation better.

But then they get to Cang Qiong and are officially accepted into Qing Jing peak. The Shen sister immediately becomes good friends with Ning YingYing, who is about the same age as her new body. Which means Luo Binghe isn't there yet and everything awful can still be averted.

I think it would be really funny if the sister got very attached to Shen Qingqiu, who dotes on her as much as Ning YingYing, and Shen Yuan freaking out about this. Not only because he's constantly worrying about her getting molested and she vehemently insisting that's never going to happen, but also! How can his sister like the Scum-Villain of all people in the slightest!!! “Why, meimei? You're usually so clever and perceptive! What's wrong with you?!”

And then one day Luo Binghe joins and the Shen sister is now almost constantly clinging to Shen Qingqiu's skirts and he's not mistreating the protagonist (no matter how much he wants to) because it would upset his little babygirl. Can't have that.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #story idea #writing prompt

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horizon-verizon · 6 months ago

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So I didn't watch the episode and have gotten wind that Hugh is Saera's son in HotD but that he doesn't describe her as the very successful & well known brothel owner and proprietor that she canonically was. Which is weird bc even if he left before she really took off, there's no other indication in HotD thus far that she is still one of many, more vulnerable brothel sex workers of Planetos who must give up a portion of their wages according to the owner's style or will. Hugh's knowledge of Saera is the only knowledge thus far for the locals and non bk readers, so the first "public" perception & understanding of Saera is through this man "ashamed" to have been her son he seemingly never came to terms with. And her being a SW appears as if it is a leading reason (aside from some others not reveled) why he left Volantis for KL.

She exists to characterize Hugh and it's done with focus on her sexual "deviance" in like with Alyssa's being used in a deviant sexual dream forced on Daemon. It's not her being used to characterize Hugh that bothers me but their way of doing it is to leave it as sexual shame of female sexuality through the stigma of sex work when there was much more to Saera. Similar to how there were more & better storylines from Alyssa to use for Daemon's "redemption" arc.

Yes, I've seen the tweets and comments about the karma of Saera's son being the one to bond with Jahaerys' dragon. How this reconnects the two through a bastard (a "result" of Saera not acting as a "proper", sexually limited and "chaste" woman-girl) as well as adds an interesting layer to Hugh's eventual betrayal (as one of Jaehaerys' chief anxieties and issues against Saera was the distribution and availability of dragons--in her escape from his forcing her into septahood, she tried to get to Balerion it is said and he saw this as her "stealing"). And that anxiety has been evident in F&B since Elissa Farman stealing what would become Dany's 3 dragon eggs. His fear being that there would be new dragonlords popping up that not only would/could endanger the world (he specifically said they didn't need another Old Valyria) but would rival the Targaryens and his own authority/grasp on power. These are all actually very good points, and yeah, this is one example of HotD's better writing and storytelling.

However, going back to Hugh saying Saera was just like "regular" sex workers who have to answer to higher authorities and were more vulnerable to many sorts of parties (clients, abusive and greedy brothel managers & owners, other citizens/subjects bc of the stigma against SW, etc.) -> again, Saera eventually became a brothel owner and very well respected/known. With seemingly a lot of influence in Essos as well as a great name in Westeros even infamously--she wasn't a nobody anywhere, is what I ]'m saying and HotD makes it seem as if she kinda is when she's filtered through only her ashamed son as being like less autonomous-authoritative sex workers. It doesn't matter that she was at one point that and she "spoiled" herself (which no, she didn't); even she was asked atp whether she'd take the throne or ascend, to which she declined AND I speak to how HotD is allergic to female authority figures--which even if she had more power in Essos, she's still a figure of authority nonetheless--acting like authority figures without self-effacing themselves (Rhaenyra) or being totally un-self aware and insufferable (Alicent) to make them a false idea of "decent".

So unless the show will give us some sort of context of smallfolk not knowing of her life aside from "she disappeared" or that her later life was only recorded and disseminated in books they don't have access to thus Hugh never found out what was up w/her later life, it's very easy to make as if either she was always a "lower" SW OR Hugh simply decided that it didn't matter what she was other than she was a SW. Which would tell us a lot about his character, his values, clue us in one the trajectory of his story in a curiosity-peaked sort of way & thus add some nuance both to him and to her. And she had other sons who showed up to the GC of 101 [look back to 1x01, where they are tallying up votes for the next ruler b/t Rhaenys and Viserys]...

Wouldn't news of these sons spread throughout KL, so how could Hugh not know of these sons who quite obviously brought so much evidence of their wealth that could very well have at first come from their shared mother? Or do these sons just not exist in the HotD universe? Without these questions answered, it seems they are just doing themselves a disservice when they have the opportunityt to make their world more "believeable" and "lived-in". Like it'd breathe so much more life than a mere mention of Saera's later life, but even the mere mention from any more unbiased source would add a regard toward the lore than currently.

Again, again, again, he is thus far the only source the show gives us as to her fate.

If it turns out that she never managed to be an owner and proprietor in the HotD universe, then this is pretty reductive just as how they portrayed Alyssa to be.

Alyssa was reduced through sex/a sexual depiction/interaction into being a device for Daemon's arc of self development when they had him eat her out in a dream, and that could have been literally anything else: Alyssa taking him out on his first ever dragon ride as an infant; him watching her die slowly from childbirth but still interacting; her at the training yard and trying to get her brother/his father's attentions as a child; her dumping the wind on their brother Vaegon's head as a child when he denigrated Daella's intelligence [Daella, the grandmother of Rhaenyra, which thus could have brought another layer or reminder of his and Rhaenyra's need for unity and their already-there connection, how he needs to step up more for her and in a less "oppressive" way since the writers want to claim being more "feminist" even though I still think Daemon's entire Harrenhal arc is an unfair and illogical illustration of him and his capabilities/role in Rhaenyra's life/claim]; etc.

This was local's first intro into her & any connections she has to any--yes, Daemon esp--living or recent Targ they know of. And she is made into a participant of incest the Targs do not practice to show to Daemon he's being way too self absorbed looking for any sort of family who believes in him instead of reigning in his most dramatic urges? Once again, why is it okay for Alyssa to be in that compromising position if she has to be a device for this specific arc? You can't express anything that concerns family, Targs, and women without it sexually objectifying or inflicting worse or noncanonical violence against women?! Is this not what happened with the Alicent-Larys foot scene & making Alicent Viserys' rape victim? Dameon killing Rhea when he categorically DIDN't in canon?

With Saera, yes, you can argue they didn't have time to flesh her out and thus opted for a quick confirmation of her being Hugh's mother...the execution of the news leaves much to be desired.

The framing of the news and how it defines later possible depictions...bc you know that if she is brought up or described later, HotD fans are going to bring up HotD to try to "explain" her. Even her bk character. And--once more, IF HotD doesn't elaborate and use her bk!characterization--which is highly unlikely as she's served her purpose & this show is hefty with the male gaze--HUGH's either uninformed or outright reductive outlook will be the prime/only source for her life and how she fared outside of Jaehaerys' and Westerosi sexism's influence.

Instead of giving us three separate scenes of Alicent's "psychological journey" that really just went back to square one (I do watch the trailers for the episodes) as:

in the trailer for epi 8 of this season, she still presses Aemond to not fight the blacks "like this" or with indiscriminate violence....she has already done this! Allt this really does is show how "helpless" she's become. That's all her "spiritual" arc--or whatever her stans call it, esp the tradcaths and tradwives--epiphany tour amounts to. How full of regret she is in and how viewers have to sympathize with her bc "she didn't know".

it really doesn't matter if she came to Jesus bc things have been out of her power for years before the usurpation and she still enabled the war to happen through her lack of basic observation (yes, yes, she grew up in a very conservative Catholic-esque medieval church setting, that doesn't give her the right to escape accountability for abusing the power she did have over Rhaenyra in court)

nothing will change as for plot points...Aemond will continue to ignore her pleas for less violence unless he thinks whatever plans she cooks up will be more strategic than whatever he plans...bc this has never been Aemond's concern and she herself fostered it into him and all his siblings all their lives that Rhaenyra must be defeated/not become Queen....from what we have seen in HotD, "peace" has never been companion to that goal before 1x08..so...

Why are we focusing so much on Hugh's arc when he was a rapist and in the show also reduces his own mother?

This is all IF they don't at least also mention that she became a renowned proprietor. Just bc one "sold" their body to survive and continued to make money off of it, doesn't mean that there is significance in how she managed to survive and thrive apart from the desires of the social paradigms she was born into. Or that SW defines the entire worth of a human being.

#hotd s2 epi7 #hotd comment #saera targaryen #hugh hammer #the targaryens #hotd characterization #the dragonseeds #hotd male gaze #male gaze #saera targ's characterization #alyssa targaryen #alyssa targ's characterization #character comparison #hugh hammer's characterization #hotd #asoiaf

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago

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Okay so kind of a dramatic ask, but what if Andy bear was out of town for a business trip. And reader just had a shit day. She just wanted to come home and cuddle her man, but he was gone. So she just cries. And lays down. Doesn’t want to eat, shower, you know how a bad day gets you down. She calls Andy to hear his voice and just loses it and cries. How would our Andy talk her off the ledge and be there for her from a far?

Safe With Me Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Minors DNI ___

So, that's not very dramatic at all. Andy really shines in these moments, because it's not often that his overly headstrong Baby Girl lets him in without a little prompting. Especially early in their relationship.

When she lets down her guard and allows herself to be vulnerable, that's when Andy knows that his woman feels safe with him.

The first time she allowed herself to have a moment with him was when he took a trip to Washington D.C. - right after the events in The Key. While it may have taken a little convincing, Baby Girl did finally agree to stay at Andy's place until her asshole of a landlord, Rodney, got around to fixing her heat.

A couple days into her stay at Casa Barber, she had a really bad day. It was one for the books. We're talking shitty clients, missed deadlines, issues with the commercial printer. You name it - everything that could go wrong did. And she unfairly took quite a bit of heat for mistakes and hiccups that were not her doing.

And all she wanted was to crawl into bed with her Andy Bear and have herself a good cry. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to wrap her up in his arms, sitting patiently while she took her time getting settled in his lap. And once she was comfy she could just let it all out.

They usually FaceTimed every night, or at least they tried to. But she also didn't want to necessarily bother him either. However, it also didn't stop her from climbing into his bed, grabbing his pillow, and burying her face in the soft fabric so that she could inhale his scent.

That way she could maybe pretend that he was there. That, instead of a pillow, she was curled up with the real thing. Her Big Man.

Because she's in a mood, instead of waiting for him to initiate their nightly call she decides to take a chance and dial him early. And when he doesn't answer, she resigns herself to the fact that he's probably busy with more important things. So she leaves him what she hopes sounds like a bright and cheery voicemail before simply giving up.

Because she's a grown woman. And she doesn't want to be a bother. So it's back to wallowing she goes. She doesn't want to eat. She doesn't to shower. She's lucky she somehow managed to strip off most of her clothes before getting in bed, even though she left them all over the bedroom floor.

And she'll be damned before she picks that shit up and puts it in the hamper.

But let's remember that this is Andrew Barber we're talking about. And he does not play when it comes to his Baby Girl. This man - her man - is also unbelievably perceptive. And when he hears the little hitch in her voice he automatically knows something is up.

When he calls her back via FaceTime roughly ten minutes later, she does eventually allow him to see her face onscreen. Albeit, after a fair bit of coaxing on his part. But Andy already knows she's not fine. He doesn't necessarily need to see her face to put all that together.

But his gorgeous girl also needs to be reminded that it's okay to not be okay - especially with him.

"Aw, sweetheart...it's okay." He coos, his gentle eyes filled with concern. "It's okay. You're safe with me. Take your time and let it out. And then we can go from there."

As it all comes bubbling out of her, Andy leans back and listens patiently. While it goes against his instincts - that pragmatic part of his brain that tells him to swoop in with a solution and save the day - he realizes that what his Baby Girl needs now is his ear.

And what's more, she needs his support. It doesn't matter that it's coming long-distance. Even though the only thing he wants to do right at that very moment is hold her close.

While she's talking, her ever-attentive boyfriend quietly busies himself with ordering takeout from her favorite Chinese spot. He makes sure to order all of her favorites - cashew chicken, house special fried rice, egg rolls, potstickers, crab rangoons.

All of it.

And then he takes it even further, surprising her by having it delivered right to his front door. Meanwhile, Andy orders room service so that they can share a meal together.

Turns out, that's just what she needs. By the end of their date, his sweet Baby Girl seems to be almost back to her old self. But just to be sure, he graciously volunteers to hang around while she runs herself a bubble bath so that she can enjoy a nice soak. Under his watchful authority, of course.

Andrew Barber is nothing if not supportive.

Later on, when she's fresh out of the bath and wrapped up in one of his old t-shirts, he reads her bedtime stories until she falls asleep. He makes sure that her last thoughts are of him before she drifts off. It's only when he hears the consistent sound of her low, even breathing that he finally ends the call.

Because while you can say a whole lot about Andy Barber - you can never say that he doesn't love his Baby Girl. Both on good days, and the really fucking bad ones too.

___

Does that answer your question, my dear? Let me know your thoughts. Thanks for the ask!

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mistytarot0919 · 26 days ago

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★~(◠‿◕✿)Tarot observations - Mental Health Issues indicators

Hello, everyone! Misty - your tarot reader here✨🔮🌠🃏🌟!

Please REBLOG if you find this information useful! ༄˖°🪐.ೃ࿔*

When this happens, it is important for the person seeking guidance from the Tarot to remember that the Tarot is simply a tool for reflection and insight, and should not be used as a substitute for professional mental health support.

It is always advisable to consult with a therapist or counselor if you are struggling with mental health issues!!!

That being said, the Tarot can still be a helpful tool in managing and understanding these issues. They can also help to bring awareness to underlying issues that may be contributing to your mental health struggles.

For other posts like this, you can check here (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

For other tarot content you can find more over here(❁´◡`❁).

Misty ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

MOON REVERSED

The Moon card, when reversed in tarot, can signify confusion, illusion, and hidden fears or unresolved issues. It may indicate a need to delve deeper into one's subconscious to address underlying mental health challenges such as fear, anxiety, and depression that have not been fully explored or resolved.

In such a situation, it is crucial to recommend that the client seeks support from a trained professional, like a hypnotherapist, who can assist in uncovering and working through these deep-seated concerns.

Encouraging the client to engage in therapy sessions with a hypnotherapist can offer a unique opportunity to explore the hidden aspects of their psyche, gain insight into their fears and anxieties, and develop coping strategies to navigate and overcome these challenges. This approach can help the individual untangle complex emotional issues, release deep-seated fears, and embark on a healing journey towards improved mental well-being.

By partnering with a trained hypnotherapist, the client can receive personalized support, guidance, and tools to confront and resolve their unresolved mental health issues, ultimately fostering a sense of clarity, empowerment, and emotional resilience. Seeking professional help is a proactive step towards self-discovery, healing, and growth on the path to mental wellness.

NINE OF SWORDS

The Nine of Swords in tarot often symbolizes anxiety, depression, and overwhelming negative thoughts that can lead to insomnia and heightened stress. This card reflects a state of mental anguish where one's inner dialogue is dominated by worries, self-doubt, and fear about everything that could go wrong.

For individuals experiencing anxiety and depression fuelled by negative self-talk, it is crucial to address these harmful thought patterns and find ways to manage stress and anxiety effectively.

In addition to therapeutic interventions, practicing relaxation techniques, such as deep breathing exercises, meditation, or gentle yoga, can help calm the mind and reduce stress levels. Creating a bedtime routine that promotes relaxation and good sleep hygiene can also aid in managing insomnia caused by anxiety and constant worrying.

By seeking support from mental health professionals, such as therapists or counselours specializing in cognitive-behavioural therapy, individuals can learn strategies to combat negative self-talk, alleviate anxiety, and improve overall well-being. Developing healthy coping mechanisms and self-care practices can empower individuals to navigate through challenging times and cultivate a more positive and balanced mindset.

NINE OF WANDS REVERSED

The Nine of Wands reversed in tarot can signify heightened paranoia and a sense of feeling persecuted or as if the world is working against you. This card suggests a state of defensiveness, suspicion, and deep-seated fear that can lead to irrational beliefs and a distorted perception of reality.

When paired with the Nine of Swords, which represents anxiety and negative self-talk, the combination may indicate a more severe manifestation of mental distress, potentially involving auditory hallucinations or hearing voices that contribute to the client's paranoia.

Treatment options may include therapy, medication, and supportive interventions aimed at managing paranoia, reducing auditory hallucinations, and promoting mental well-being. Collaborating with a multidisciplinary team of mental health experts can offer the client the necessary support and resources to navigate through complex mental health challenges and work towards healing and recovery.

By addressing these symptoms proactively and seeking appropriate mental health care, the client can gain insight into their experiences, receive effective treatment, and develop coping strategies to cope with paranoia, auditory hallucinations, and related mental health issues.

STAR REVERSED

The reversed Star card in tarot often symbolizes a lack of faith, hopelessness, and a sense of despair that can lead to feelings of deep sadness, depression, and anxiety. This card suggests a period of darkness and emotional turmoil where the individual may struggle to see light at the end of the tunnel or find solace in moments of difficulty.

Incorporating self-care practices, such as mindfulness, meditation, journaling, or engaging in activities that bring joy and relaxation, can help individuals nurture their emotional well-being and cultivate a sense of hope and resilience. Building a support network of friends, family, or mental health professionals can offer comfort, encouragement, and guidance during challenging times.

By acknowledging their feelings of hopelessness and taking proactive steps to prioritize their mental health, individuals can begin to regain a sense of optimism, self-compassion, and inner strength. It is crucial to remember that seeking help is a sign of courage and self-awareness, leading to the possibility of healing, growth, and renewed hope for a brighter future.

NINE OF CUPS REVERSED

The reversed Nine of Cups in tarot often signifies feelings of discontentment and sadness stemming from unmet emotional needs. This card suggests a sense of dissatisfaction and despair due to a perceived lack of fulfillment in one's emotional life, leading to feelings of depression and inner turmoil.

When encountering such emotions, it is vital for individuals to reflect on their emotional needs and take proactive steps to address them. Communicating openly with trusted individuals, such as friends, family, or therapists, can provide a platform to express feelings, seek support, and explore strategies to meet emotional needs effectively.

Engaging in self-care practices that nurture emotional well-being, such as setting boundaries, practicing self-compassion, and engaging in activities that bring joy and fulfillment, can help individuals navigate through feelings of discontentment and cultivate a sense of inner peace and balance.

Exploring therapy or counselling can also offer valuable insights, coping tools, and guidance to work through underlying issues contributing to emotional distress and identify constructive ways to enhance emotional fulfillment and overall well-being.

TEMPERANCE REVERSED

The reversed Temperance card in tarot can suggest imbalances in one's inner harmony, potentially indicating issues related to mental health, such as bipolar disorder or other conditions linked to chemical imbalances in the body and brain.

When this card appears reversed, it may serve as a reminder to pay attention to one's mental and emotional well-being, especially concerning any potential fluctuations in mood, energy levels, or overall mental health stability. Seeking professional guidance from mental health experts, such as psychiatrists, therapists, or counsellors, can provide valuable insights, diagnosis, and treatment options to address underlying chemical imbalances and mental health concerns.

Incorporating a holistic approach to mental health, which may include medication, therapy, lifestyle adjustments, and self-care practices, can help individuals navigate through challenges related to chemical imbalances and promote overall emotional and mental wellness. It's vital to prioritize self-awareness, self-care, and seeking appropriate treatment to manage and support mental health conditions effectively.

TOWER

The Tower card in tarot often symbolizes a significant breakdown, crisis, or upheaval in one's life, typically resulting from unexpected or sudden changes that can shake the foundation of one's beliefs, routines, or sense of security. This card may also represent a series of panic attacks or intense emotional turmoil brought about by challenging circumstances.

During times of crisis or upheaval, it is crucial to practice self-care, seek support from loved ones or professionals, and allow oneself to process emotions, thoughts, and experiences in a healthy and constructive manner. Engaging in mindfulness practices, therapy, or other forms of self-reflection can help individuals navigate through challenging times and emerge stronger and more resilient.

While facing unexpected changes or crises can be overwhelming, it also provides an opportunity for growth, self-discovery, and transformation. By embracing the energy of the Tower with courage, openness, and resilience, individuals can navigate through turbulent times, learn valuable lessons, and rebuild their lives in alignment with their true values and aspirations. Remember, even in moments of chaos, there is potential for renewal, growth, and positive change.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot community #tarot witch #daily tarot #misty tarot observation #tarot observations #tarot observation #mistytarot0919

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winxanity-ii · 11 months ago

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⌜Tactus Mortis | Chapter 12 Chapter 12 | me bueno⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Today felt different for Camilo, lighter somehow, as if the morning air carried a hint of promise. From the moment he woke, his mind was teeming with thoughts of you.

Lately, the dynamics between the two of you had shifted; gone were the days of him playing childish tricks on you followed by your exasperated scolds, instead replaced by meaningful conversations tinged with understanding and, dare he admit, a touch of affection.

Somewhere along the line, without him even realizing it, his perception of you shifted, and now he finds himself drawn to you in a way he can't quite explain.

Racing down the stairs of Casita, he barely managed to grab a bite, his response to Pepa's inquiring gaze muffled by a mouthful of bread. "Just heading out," he muttered, the underlying message clear in his haste: he couldn't wait to meet you.

The jog to your shop did little to quell the smile that played on his lips, a smile born from the budding realization that his feelings for you might be evolving.

Arriving at your shop, breathless and eager, he's met with disappointment—the door is locked, and a note reading "Be back, on lunch" greets him instead of your familiar face. Frustrated, he kicks at a stray pebble, contemplating how to kill time until your return.

That's when he spots Mirabel making her way down the road, her steps drawing her ever closer down the path towards him.

A spark of mischief ignites within him, and before he can second-guess the impulse, he shifts into your form, taking on your appearance with an accuracy that spoke of his keen observational skills, just as Mirabel called out in greeting.

Turning around just in time to meet Mirabel's approach with a smile he imagines you might give—sweet and kind—he greeted, "Hey, Mirabel!" His voice, now yours, carried the unique timbre and inflections that were distinctly you.

The conversation flows easily at first, Camilo slipping into your mannerisms with practiced ease, navigating through the pleasantries and everyday small talk: discussing the shop, the clients, and the simple ebb and flow of daily life.

Everything proceeded without a hitch until Mirabel, with a hint of curiosity, ventured a question that veered into more personal territory and asked, "So, how have you and Camilo been?"

Caught in the moment and perhaps too invested in his impersonation, Camilo found himself responding with a sincerity that caught even him off guard. "Oh, we've been good. He's actually pretty cool," he found himself saying, momentarily forgetting his guise amidst the authenticity of the moment.

Mirabel's response was immediate silence, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she digested the words. "Camilo, cool?"

Realizing his slip-up, Camilo panics internally. You would never openly praise him like that. With a nervous laugh, he nudges Mirabel, hastily, "Ha! C'mon, Mira. You should have seen your face. We both know those words practically contradict each other's existence!"

Mirabel's skepticism didn't wane as she eyed Camilo critically, her "Yeah?" laced with doubt.

Yet, seizing the moment to salvage his ruse, Camilo leaned into his facade with gusto. "Oh, come on, Mira. You know me better," he quipped, channeling your supposed exasperation. "That tramposo, always a whirlwind of mischief. As if I'd suddenly sing praises of his antics."

Her suspicion seemed to waver, replaced by a chuckle, a sound of relief mingling with amusement. "For a moment there, I thought... Well, never mind. You had me going." Her laughter, though brief, was a testament to Camilo's convincing performance. But then, with a glance at the sky and a sudden recollection, she exclaimed, "Oh! I'm supposed to help Mamá with the pastries. Can't keep her waiting." With a swift goodbye and a wave, she hurried off, leaving Camilo alone with his triumph and relief.

No sooner had Mirabel disappeared from view did Camilo release a pent-up breath, his hand instinctively finding its way to his chest, as if to steady his racing heart. "That was too close," he muttered to himself, a smirk playing on his lips, proud yet shaken by the narrow escape.

But the silence that followed was abruptly pierced by a familiar, albeit unwelcome, voice in his head. Sidero's spectral tone carried a mix of amusement and intrigue, "You must really like ____ so much to morph into her as much as you do," the spirit teased, his words weaving through Camilo's thoughts with an ease that was both unnerving and invasive.

Heat crept into Camilo's cheeks, painting them a shade of embarrassment he seldom wore. "I-It's not like that," he stammered, the words tripping over themselves as he scrambled for a defense. "I was just—just trying to trick Mirabel, you know? A simple jest between cousins." His voice, usually so confident and filled with bravado, now faltered under Sidero's scrutinizing presence.

The spirit's laughter, devoid of warmth, echoed in his mind. "Good," Sidero concluded, leaving an ominous weight behind the word.

Camilo, flustered and confused, found himself at a loss, his earlier confidence evaporating into the cool evening air as his mind goes blank.

☆

The weight of the day seemed to dissipate as you drew closer to your shop, the sight of Camilo waiting outside igniting a spark of warmth within the fatigue that clung to your bones. "Camilo!" you call out, arms laden with a heavy basket filled with oils and herbs.

The buoyant mood that had carried you back to your shop, quickly dissipated as Camilo's presence, usually a source of playful banter, morphed into something unrecognizable.

His stance, stiff and imposing, did nothing to prepare you for the words that followed your lighthearted jest. "What, Toño sicked his animals on you?" you chuckled, attempting to bridge the gap with humor.

But Camilo's response was a far cry from the laughter or playful retort you anticipated. Instead, he offered nothing but a cold, piercing stare that seemed to look right through you.

Confusion and a hint of concern began to bubble within you, and just as you were about to voice your worries, Camilo's words cut through the silence like a sharp, unexpected chill. "You know...I thought I'd try to get to know you better. Don't know why I bothered. You're so stuck up, so utterly convinced of your own righteousness. It's like you can't see past your own nose."

Each word was a calculated strike, but it was the depth of his critique that left you reeling. You could only stare as Camilo's expression twisted into one of disdain, his nose turned up, lips curled into a sneer that was so unlike him.

The harshness of his tone, the coldness in his eyes—it was as if you were seeing someone entirely different. His words, laced with contempt, seemed to echo around you, each syllable a heavy blow to your spirit.

"It's like, every interaction and every conversation, you're there with your judgments and condescension." The laughter and light-hearted teasing that had peppered your conversations were absent now, replaced by a critique so pointed it felt personal, intimate even.

"I don't like you," he finished before leaving, his words slicing through the last threads of hope you had for what your relationship with Camilo could have become. This wasn't just a dismissal; it was a dismantling of the very foundation you thought you were building together.

The hurt was so profound, so jarring, that it rendered you motionless, your gaze dropping to the ground as a protective measure against the onslaught.

It wasn't until a wetness touched the hand not occupied by the weight of the basket that you realized tears had begun to silently trail down your cheeks.

Looking up, half-expecting raindrops to blur your vision, the realization that these were your tears—your response to Camilo's cutting words—left you hollow. "Oh..." was all you managed, a whisper lost to the void left by his departure.

A/N: Uh....forgive me?

#xani-writes: tactus mortis #camilo x reader #camilo madrigal #camilo madrigal x reader #madrigal #encanto camilo #madrigal x reader #romance #ghosts #medium #ghost whisperer #angst #death reader #camilo #love #young romance #post encanto

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