#us customs procedure
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thellawtoknow · 6 months ago
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Customs Clearance in the US
Topic: Understanding Customs Clearance in the US: A Comprehensive GuideKey Steps in the Customs Clearance ProcessDocumentation Submission: Customs Declaration: Duty Assessment: Inspection and Examination: Release or Hold: Common Challenges in Customs ClearanceTips for Smooth Customs Clearance Topic: Understanding Customs Clearance in the US: A Comprehensive Guide When it comes to importing…
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usadvlottery · 9 months ago
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US Immigration and Customs Laws encompass a complex framework governing the movement of people and goods across the United States' borders. These laws are designed to regulate immigration, prevent illegal entry, ensure national security, and facilitate lawful trade and travel. They cover a wide range of topics, including visa requirements, border security measures, customs duties, import/export regulations, and enforcement mechanisms. Compliance with these laws is crucial for maintaining legal status, preventing unauthorized entry, and upholding the nation's safety and security. Various government agencies, such as the Department of Homeland Security, Customs and Border Protection, and Immigration and Customs Enforcement, oversee the enforcement and administration of these laws.
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ostrichmonkey-games · 2 years ago
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If you're ever planning on running a game set in a fantasy city, Into the Cess and Citadel is such a good resource to have on hand.
The tools in that book are insane. So good.
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saja-star · 1 year ago
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Me: I will be talking to prospective research participants on facebook, because that is the norm for professional communication in this culture and most people don't use email unless they regularly deal with foreigners.
IRB: This makes us uneasy. Will these be fake fb names for privacy or their real names?
Me: Who tf has a fake fb name for privacy? They will almost definitely use their real names.
IRB: How will you securely store their real fb names?
Me: If you want I can make a super secret spreadsheet with people's fb names on an encrypted hard drive. If that would make you feel better. But um, they are going to post on my wall and friend me and comment on all my posts and shit. Like I can't stop them from doing that.
IRB: That's fine. Please make a super secret spreadsheet.
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sillyabtmusic · 6 months ago
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tbh i think color lookup layers are so much more useful than gradient maps the only problem is. remembering which lut is which.
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southsouthcooperationday · 1 year ago
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Develop Digitalized trade facilitation.
Launching of the AfCFTA e-Tariff Book in November 2022 further allowed for a digitalized trade facilitation that ensures tariff concession schedules are easily accessible to Trade and Customs Authorities. The Tariff book includes rules of origin and the customs procedures that apply to products which allows users to benefit from enhances knowledge and capacities in the use of tariffs, commodity classification and organisation of tariff-related work within Customs administrations and other relevant stakeholders. These tariff concessions have been offered by the customs unions and once agreed they will then be nationalised and traders will be able to trade fully.
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thedensworld · 2 months ago
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Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: arrange engagement au
Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?
Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters
Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.
"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.
Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.
"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.
Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.
"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.
You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."
Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."
The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.
A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.
From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.
It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.
"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"
Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.
"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."
Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.
Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.
You were wearing one of his shirts.
"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.
You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.
"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."
Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."
An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"
You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."
Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.
"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"
"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."
You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.
As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.
"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.
He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.
Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.
You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.
Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.
That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.
"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.
"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.
And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.
"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.
You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."
Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.
You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."
Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.
"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.
Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.
When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.
"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.
*
After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.
At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.
One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.
"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"
Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."
The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"
What?
Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."
Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.
They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.
He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.
You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.
Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.
"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."
Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.
But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."
Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.
Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.
"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.
"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.
Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.
Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.
"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.
Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.
Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."
The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.
After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.
As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.
The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.
When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.
As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.
"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."
"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.
He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.
You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.
"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”
He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”
"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.
"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”
You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.
"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.
Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.
As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.
As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.
You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”
He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”
You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.
The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.
There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.
Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”
You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”
Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.
Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”
You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.
He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”
You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.
He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”
Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.
“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”
Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”
You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”
With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.
As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.
*
“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.
“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”
“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”
“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”
It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.
“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”
A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”
Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”
The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”
Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”
You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”
In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.
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quasi-normalcy · 2 months ago
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In Star Trek, they manifestly use generative AI all of the time, and I'm not talking about Data's art either. The holodeck clearly runs on this: you say "Computer, give me a table" and it generates a table from its huge dataset of tables. They can customize it: "Make it a metal table" and it will procedurally generate this as well. When they talk to holodeck characters the dialogue is mostly just generated by the computer (because it has to be). There's a whole plot in Lower Decks about Boimler going off on some insane, meaningless quest because he ran off the rails of his own holomovie and the computer had to make up a bunch of bullshit out of its "in-fill" parameters. And yet everyone still does real art even so. Jake Sisko's a novelist, Picard paints (not well), the crew does community theatre; Sisko and Riker still cook even though the computer can literally assemble food for them in seconds. Even writing holodeck programs is portrayed as an artistic endeavour even though the computer is doing all of the tedious parts.
Anyways, there are two possible morals to this story: (1) Most of the episodes that I'm talking about were written in the 80s and 90s and they didn't have a realistic conception of what computer-generated art would do to society; or (2) AI art would be unobjectionable if people weren't dependent on income to survive. Personally, I'm inclined to the second one.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months ago
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might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️
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Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)
Pairings: Boothill x male reader
Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification
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“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.
“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”
The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.
Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.
“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.
“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.
“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”
“But what?”
“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”
While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.
“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”
Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.
You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.
“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”
As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.
If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…
“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”
“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.
It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…
“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”
The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.
“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.
A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.
“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”
A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…
For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.
“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.
Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.
You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.
It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–
“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.
“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.
You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……
His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…
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helioooss · 10 days ago
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normalcy
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synopsis: after getting fired from your job, you somehow set yourself up to become the personal bodyguard of asia’s it girl; minatozaki sana. the contract said 6 months…but they do say opposites attract…right?
w/c: 7k+
warnings: fluff, kissing, minor violent scene with injuries involved, etc. etc. like always, read at your own risk
a/n: honestly? i really enjoyed writing this but ive read it so many times that i just want it off my drafts
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the sharp glow of the gym lights flickered, illuminating the worn pages of ‘the trial’ by kafka. you closed the book with a sigh, feeling the weight of your plight settle into your thoughts. reading was slowly becoming your balm, your silent rebellion against the monotony of life.
today, though, was worst than routine. today was about fists and consequences.
it was meant to be another uneventful shift, the kind you’d become numb to over the months — wiping down benches, checking in with regulars, occasionally offering form corrections to those who were willing to listen. your black work polo, embroidered with the gym’s logo, was slightly faded from too many washes and the familiar scent of rubber flooring and sweat clung to the air.
you knew the place inside out, even if you never quite felt at home here.
as you heaved another sigh at the reception desk, you noticed a commotion near the squat racks. a woman in leggings and a loose tank top stood, flustered, her face a mix of anger and embarrassment.
across from her, a man had his phone angled at an obvious tilt, his thumb suspiciously poised over the screen.
“is there a problem?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as you approached. you were used to minor disputes, arguments over who got the next set, someone hogging the water fountain; but this was different.
the woman’s eyes darted to you, desperate. “he’s taking pictures of me,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “without my permission.”
“oh, come on,” the man scoffed, tucking his phone into his pocket. he was the type you’d seen too many times — overconfident, built just enough to look intimidating, but his demeanor screamed entitlement. “it’s a public space. besides, you should be flattered.”
you clenched your jaw. you weren’t particularly confrontational, but something snapped inside you at the casual dismissal. maybe it was the way the woman seemed to shrink under his gaze, or perhaps it was the months of barely restrained frustration you’d been bottling up.
“delete the photos,” you demanded, stepping closer.
he smirked, a slow, mocking curl of his lips. “or what?”
you weren’t sure when your fist clenched or when you decided that words wouldn’t be enough. all you remembered was the flash of anger, the way your knuckles collided with his jaw and the shock on his face as he staggered back.
the gym fell silent, all eyes on you.
“what the hell?” he shouted, clutching his face as he sat up on the floor.
you felt a pang of panic, but it was drowned out by a strange sense of satisfaction. “don’t do that ever again.”
the woman mouthed a silent “thank you,” but the damage was done. within minutes, your manager, kyle, a man who was perpetually stressed and underpaid, was rushing over and pulled you aside.
“you can’t just hit customers, y/n,” he said, his voice barely masking his disbelief.
“he was taking photos of her without consent,” you insisted, still shaking with adrenaline.
“i get that, he’ll be banned and a police report will be made, but we have procedures,” he insisted, rubbing his temples. “this isn’t how we handle things.”
“so what? we just let guys like him get away with it?” you shot back, already knowing how this conversation would end.
“he’s already threatening to sue if i don’t fire you,” he answered, with a sigh. “i’m letting you go, effective immediately. i’ll have your final check ready tomorrow.”
“yeah alright,” you clenched your jaw, turning to pick up the rest of your things off the desk. “i hope all of you pricks who just stood by and watched this woman get assaulted never have daughters!”
you left the gym with your head held high, but by the time you reached your shared apartment, reality hit hard. you were unemployed, with bills stacking up and a sense of failure settling in.
jeongyeon and dahyun, your housemates, were already home; slumped on the couch after a long day of security work.
you all met in university and from then on, you’d been stuck together. of course, the degrees you had didn’t line up with your careers now, nonetheless, you were all happy.
you think.
jeongyeon had a beer in hand, while dahyun was half-asleep, scrolling through her phone.
“hey,” you said quietly, dropping your bag by the door before shutting the door behind you.
“rough day?” jeongyeon asked, looking you up and down; hair disheveled and a huge rbf plastered on your face. she had a way of reading your mood with unnerving accuracy.
“i got fired,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, flopping onto the armchair as you ran your fingers through your hair.
dahyun perked up, suddenly alive. “no way,” she added, nearly falling over her own alertness. “what happened?”
you recounted the whole story; the boring shift, the spoiled boxers in the showers and the creep —each detail bringing a mix of disbelief and amusement to their faces.
“that sounds like a bitch of a day, but you punched him?” jeongyeon asked, eyes wide. “damn, y/n. i mean, that’s kind of badass, but also not great.”
“i know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “but he deserved it.”
“well, it’s not like you were planning to stay there forever,” dahyun offered, trying to sound optimistic. “but we should find you something soon. rent’s due soon.”
“hmm,” you frowned, thinking about all the bills you had to catch up on. soon enough, you wouldn’t be able to afford a bottle of soju. “yeah, that was really impulsive of me.”
jeongyeon’s face lit up suddenly. “actually, i might have something. it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s really decent money.”
you raised an eyebrow. “what is it?”
“a security job,” she explained. “it’s temporary, six months. i was supposed to take it, but i just got offered a permanent managerial role at my current gig, so i can’t do both.”
“what’s the catch?” you asked, sensing a hesitation in her voice. “i know you’d be taking it if it was really good money.”
“it’s not a typical security job,” jeongyeon admitted. “you’d be a personal bodyguard, and i can’t do that shit, y’know? the background check is really tedious but i’d do it for the money.”
“okay, shut up,” dahyun leaned forward, intrigued. “who is this for?”
“minatozaki sana,” jeongyeon said, her tone dropping to a whisper, as if saying the name too loudly would summon the heiress herself.
you blinked, unsure if you heard correctly. “wait…the minatozaki sana? heiress sana?”
“yep,” jeongyeon confirmed, taking a sip of her beer. “the nepo baby herself. her old guard retired, and they need a temporary bodyguard ‘cause she can’t keep one for more than a year. i know it sounds crazy, but the pay is amazing, and it’s only for six months.”
the minatozaki family was a powerful family in asia; they had their names on everything — from the phones you use to the planes that you ride. they were the definition of old money; an empire of wealth and influence that seemed to operate on a different form of existence.
“you’re talking about the same sana who’s always on magazine covers, right?” dahyun added, her eyes wide with disbelief. “the one who throws tantrums over the wrong brand of mineral water?”
“and insists on separate dishes for every meal course,” jeongyeon nodded. “yeah, that’s her.”
you felt a mix of intrigue and apprehension. you’d read about sana in passing, her life a blur of extravagant parties, expensive vacations, and notorious diva behavior. she was everything you weren’t: loud, glamorous, and perpetually in the spotlight.
meanwhile, you preferred the quiet solace of modest living, your life small but safe.
“are you sure about this?” you asked, trying to gauge jeongyeon’s seriousness. “are you going to refer me instead?”
“as sure as i can be,” she replied. “i mean, it’s not ideal, but it’s a job. and who knows? maybe it won’t be as bad as it sounds, plus, they would probably want someone like you.”
“or maybe she’ll drive you insane within a week,” dahyun said, half-joking. “either way, it’ll make for some interesting stories.”
the weight of your decision was pressing down on you. you were hesitant, but with rent looming and no other prospects, you found yourself nodding. “okay. i’ll do it. for six months, that’s it.”
jeongyeon pursed her lips, nodding along. “six months and that’s it.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the minatozaki mansion loomed ahead, all marble pillars and glass windows, like something out of a luxury real estate magazine.
as you slowly walked up the driveway, a sense of unease settled in.
this was a world you’d never been a part of, and you felt distinctly out of place in your borrowed suit, the fabric slightly too stiff, the collar too tight.
“miss minatozaki awaits you,” a uniformed maid opened the door and led you through a maze of hallways, each more opulent than the last. no one seemed interested in talking to each other - their heads kept low.
finally, you were brought to a sunlit lounge, where minatozaki sana herself lounged on an oversized chaise, scrolling through her phone. she looked up as you entered, her expression one of bored curiosity.
“so, you’re the new bodyguard?” she asked, voice lilting and slightly mocking. her accent was a blend of japanese and english, perfectly polished.
“yes, ma’am,” you replied stiffly, feeling the heat of her gaze.
she waved a hand dismissively. “don’t call me that. it makes me sound old.”
“then…miss minatozaki?” you tried, unsure of the protocol.
“absolutely not,” she shook her head in disapproval.
“sana?”
“better,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, but it wasn’t a kind smile; it was more like the satisfied grin of someone who had won an unspoken game.
as you stood there, you couldn’t help but think back to dahyun’s words. maybe she would drive you insane within a week. or maybe, you’d find a way to navigate this strange new world.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the first week was a whirlwind of adjustments — both to the demands of the job and the peculiarities of sana.
as it turned out, being the bodyguard to asia’s most notorious nepo baby wasn’t just about keeping her physically safe. it was about managing her whims, tolerating her tantrums, and, on occasion, playing peacekeeper between her and whoever happened to be on her bad side that day.
it hasn’t even been long and you were already learning the hard way that her life was filled with chaos — both the glamorous and the outright ridiculous kind. today’s chaos revolved around a botched spa appointment.
you were in the staff room, sipping a much-needed coffee, when hana, one of the housemaids, burst in — looking panicked.
“y/n, we need you!” she exclaimed, almost out of breath.
you set down your cup, already feeling a headache coming on. “what’s going on?”
“sana,” she said urgently. “the spa messed up her facial treatment, and she’s…not taking it well.”
you hurried to the spa room in the mansion, where the unmistakable sound of sana’s angry voice could be heard before you even reached the door.
“are you kidding me?” she was shouting at the terrified spa technician. “this is not the organic serum i use! how could you get it wrong?”
“i’m so sorry, miss minatozaki,” the technician stammered, looking like she wanted to disappear. “there must have been a mix-up —”
“no excuses!” she snapped, her face flushed with anger. “i demand to speak to the manager who set this appointment up!”
you stepped in quickly, your presence catching sana’s attention. “hey, what’s going on?”
“what’s going on?” she repeated, her voice sharp as she turned to you. “they used the wrong serum on my face, y/n! do you know what that means?”
“i understand,” you said calmly, moving between her and the trembling technician. “but let’s not make a scene. i’m sure we can fix this.”
“fix this?” she scoffed, crossing her arms dramatically. “my skin is everything! this could ruin my whole week.”
“it won’t,” you reassured her. “let’s have them redo it properly. no harm done.”
she glared at you for a moment, as if deciding whether to keep throwing a fit or let you handle it.
finally, she sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively. “fine. but this better not happen again.”
the staff let out a collective sigh of relief as you guided sana back to the treatment chair, your calm presence diffusing the tension.
later, as you both left the spa room, she turned to you with a small, begrudging smile. “you’re not bad at calming me down, you know.”
“just doing my job,” you replied, but there was a hint of amusement in your voice.
you were used to keeping a low profile, slipping in and out of situations unnoticed. however, in sana’s world, invisibility wasn’t an option. you were always under scrutiny, whether from sana herself, her overbearing manager, or the hovering entourage of stylists, assistants, and PR personnel.
on the surface, she was everything you expected her to be. she was loud, glamorous, and seemed to find amusement in the smallest inconveniences.
one afternoon, while being driven to a photoshoot, sana’s driver took a wrong turn. she rolled her eyes dramatically, sighed, and declared it to be “the worst day of her life.”
“i’ve had worst,” you sat quietly in the front seat, staring out the window. you had lived through truly bad days; the kind that left lasting imprints on your mind. this wasn’t one of them.
for her, you guessed, the scale was different. the world revolved around her, bending to her every demand and adjusting to her moods.
“what’s your problem?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. her eyes narrowed, a challenge in them.
you blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”
“you’re too quiet most of the time,” she said, as if it were a flaw. “it’s creepy.”
you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but you kept your composure. “i’m here to do my job, not to entertain you.”
“boring,” she replied, drawing out the word. “but at least you’re not as fake as the last one.”
not knowing how to respond to that, you simply let the conversation die out. this, you realised, was part of the game: sana testing boundaries, seeing how far she could push before you pushed back.
she was used to getting reactions, usually adoration or frustration — your indifference seemed to both confuse and intrigue her.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the end of week three, the initial awkwardness had given way to a strange kind of rhythm. you followed her to meetings, fashion shows and charity galas, always a step behind, always alert.
it was a bright monday morning and the mansion staff was already bustling to get sana’s breakfast ready. everything was going smoothly until someone made the unforgivable mistake of serving the wrong brand of mineral water.
“this isn’t evian!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the dining hall. she stared at the glass of water as if it were an insult. “who drinks this brand?”
the staff exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to handle the sudden outburst. within moments, one of the maids, jisoo, hurried to find you.
“y/n-ssi, sana needs you in the dining room,” she said urgently.
“what’s it this time?” you asked, already half-knowing the answer.
“the wrong water brand,” she replied apologetically, bowing her head down.
you sighed but made your way to the dining room, where sana was sitting with her arms crossed, her breakfast untouched.
“what’s the problem?” you asked gently, keeping your tone steady.
“the problem,” she said with exaggerated patience, “is that they gave me the wrong water. how many times do i have to tell them that i only drink evian?”
“i’ll get them to bring the right one,” you said, trying not to smile at the absurdity. “just try to eat something in the meantime.”
she looked at you, her eyes narrowing. “you think this is funny?”
“a little,” you admitted. “but i get it. i wouldn’t want to drink bad water either.”
her lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile but was still too annoyed. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re thirsty,” you shot back, already signaling for the staff to bring the evian out. “let’s fix that.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
most of the time, sana ignored you, lost in her world of luxury and fame. sometimes, in the quieter moments, like when she was waiting for a shoot to start, or when her hair was being styled, she would glance at you with a curious expression, as if trying to figure you out — and always, always made sure you were being looked after by the same staff with the same level of care.
“what do you do for fun?” she asked one afternoon, her voice sudden and clear.
“i read,” you answered, not seeing the harm in a little honesty.
she wrinkled her nose. “that’s it? no parties, no dating, nothing?”
“that’s it,” you confirmed. “i like books, sometimes i’ll binge a show or two.”
“how boring,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice this time — only mild amusement. “any girlfriends?”
“nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’. “if i did, i wouldn’t be working for you 24/7, wouldn’t i?”
“wow, that’s really boring.”
you shrugged. “not everything has to be exciting.”
“but it should be,” she insisted, as if it were a fundamental truth. “life’s too short to be dull.”
you didn’t argue. after all, you knew she was partly right. she’d been raised in a world where everything was larger-than-life; where even the smallest moments were amplified, staged for the cameras and curated for maximum impact.
in contrast, your own life had been marked by quiet corners, long evenings with your friends and the occasional attempt at writing your own poetry, which you never let anyone read.
on the nights you returned home, dahyun and jeongyeon were eager to hear about your day. they had their own security stories to tell, mostly about rowdy bar patrons or obnoxious celebrity guests, but nothing quite as surreal as your new job.
“so, what’s she really like?” dahyun asked one evening, as she stirred a pot of ramen on the stove. “i mean, we know the public persona, but what’s behind all that?”
“more or less the same,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “she’s demanding, spoiled, and out of touch. though there are moments when she’s different.”
“different how?” jeongyeon chimed in, looking curious.
“it’s hard to explain,” you admitted. “it’s like she has these flashes of being real, but they’re gone as soon as they appear.”
jeongyeon grinned. “sounds like you’re getting to know her.”
“not really,” you said quickly. “i’m just observing.”
“sure,” dahyun teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “next thing we know, you’ll be taking selfies with her.”
“over my dead body,” you shot back, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
meanwhile, sana continued to navigate her world of excess with ease, but there were cracks in the facade. sometimes, late at night, you would catch glimpses of vulnerability — when she thought no one was watching…except that you were.
one night, after a particularly grueling day of photoshoots and meetings, you found her sitting alone on a balcony, nursing a glass of champagne.
“you know, it’s not always fun being me,” she said, her voice unusually soft, her fingers grazing over the bottle of champagne in her hand.
you hesitated, unsure if she wanted a response or was simply venting.
“i may have it all, but what’s the point of it when no one wants to get close? this world is all about money and lasting impressions.
you had no words of comfort. you barely knew her beyond the surface, and yet, in that moment, you felt a pang of empathy. you wondered if she had ever truly been allowed to be herself, or if she had always been the carefully crafted image of minatozaki holdings’ heir apparent.
“i guess that’s why you have bodyguards,” you said eventually with a grin, trying to keep the mood light. “to protect you from all that.”
she turned to look at you, a small, tired smile on her lips. “maybe. or maybe it’s just to make me feel less alone.”
you weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply stood there, a silent companion in the middle of a life that seemed to belong to someone else.
the next night, there was a high-profile art exhibit and sana was expected to make an appearance alongside other high-society figures. as you both arrived at the gallery, everything seemed to be going well, until sana noticed that her name was misspelled on the VIP list.
“are you kidding me?” she fumed, her voice dangerously low. “they misspelled my name. do they know who i am?”
the event coordinator tried to apologise, but sana was having none of it. “this is unacceptable. i can’t believe they’d be so careless.”
her stylist, jenna, now in full panic mode, hurried to find you standing at the back. “y/n, can you please handle this?”
you approached sana calmly, sensing the anger bubbling beneath her composed exterior. “sana, let’s not let this ruin the night. we can get it fixed quietly.”
“it’s not about fixing it,” she snapped, her frustration clear. “it’s about respect.”
“and you’ll get it,” you promised, your tone firm. “but the best way to show them who you are is to stay calm and let them correct their mistake.”
she glared at you, her anger giving way to something more vulnerable — hurt, perhaps, at being overlooked in a world that was supposed to revolve around her.
“fine,” she muttered, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “but only because you asked.”
later that night, as you escorted her out of the event, she looked up at you with a mix of gratitude and frustration.
“you’re too good at calming me down,” she said begrudgingly.
“someone has to be,” you teased gently, and for once, she laughed; a genuine, light-hearted sound that hinted at the girl underneath it all.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
days turned into two months and your dynamic with sana continued to evolve in unexpected ways. her diva-like antics had become more tolerable, even endearing at times. she still had moments of complete absurdity, like insisting on a private helicopter ride to a nearby island simply because she felt like having lunch there, but there were also nights when you’d find yourself sitting on her penthouse balcony, sharing quiet conversations under the stars.
“sana, here!” a photographer yelled as you opened the car door for her.
tonight’s event was a high-profile film premiere, and sana was one of the celebrity guests on the red carpet. everything had been meticulously planned — her outfit, her makeup, her entrance.
as soon as she stepped out of the car, a sudden gust of wind caught the edge of her dress, sending it fluttering up slightly.
“are you kidding me?” she muttered under her breath, trying to keep her composure as cameras flashed around her.
you were right behind her, keeping a close eye on her mood. you could tell that the minor mishap had thrown her off, and she was struggling to maintain her usual poise.
“it’s fine,” you whispered as you walked beside her. “no one noticed.”
“they definitely noticed,” she hissed back, her smile for the cameras clearly forced. “this is a disaster.”
“it’s just wind,” you reminded her softly. “you look stunning.”
“you’re just saying that,” she muttered, her voice a mix of annoyance and insecurity.
“no, i’m not,” you insisted, giving her a reassuring look. “you’re the most beautiful person here, wind or no wind.”
she glanced at you, and for a moment, the irritation faded. “you’re impossible.”
“you keep saying that,” you replied, your tone teasing.
she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her efforts to stay angry. “only because it’s true.”
changes in sana’s behaviour had become noticeable — and everyone knew it was your presence.
“where’s y/n?” sana asked one morning, her voice carrying through the hallways of her childhood residence. it had become a common question, asked whenever you weren’t within her immediate line of sight.
her assistants and staff had grown used to it, merely pointing her in your direction, a small smile tugging at their lips; there was no denying that she was a lot softer, more patient with you around.
“i think she went to grab a coffee with the night shift guys before they leave,” one of her managers responded. “how are you feeling?”
“oh,” she frowned, but quickly replaced it with a smile. “i’m feeling great today, i hope you all are too.”
“thank you, miss minatozaki.”
you had just returned from a quick break, a coffee cup in hand, when she spotted you walking into the kitchen. her face lit up, a small grin breaking through her usual poised expression.
“there you are,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.
“did you need something?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“no,” she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “just…wanted to see you.”
you nodded, your heart skipping a beat. the walls between you were slowly crumbling, leaving room for something tender and unexpected.
it was a quiet afternoon at the minatozaki residence. sana had accidentally fallen asleep after a long day of back-to-back meetings, photoshoots, and a few tense exchanges with her father over business decisions. you had stayed by her side the whole time, making sure she was protected and reassured. now that she was resting, you found yourself with a rare moment of downtime.
you wandered into the staff room once again, feeling a bit out of place but also grateful for the sense of normalcy it offered. the room was simple and far removed from the extravagance of the rest of the mansion.
it was filled with a few worn couches, a small coffee table, and a kitchenette. it was also where the house staff gathered for breaks, catching up on each other’s lives away from the opulent chaos of the minatozaki household.
today, the usual group was there: hana and misaki, the long-time japanese housemaids; jisoo, the young korean maid who had joined only recently; and hyunwoo and takashi, two of the security guards who had worked at the estate for years.
they looked up when you entered, surprised but pleased to see you.
“y/n-ssi,” jisoo greeted with a warm smile, her accent familiar in its korean softness. “come, sit with us.”
“thanks,” you said, taking a seat beside hana, who immediately poured you a cup of tea from the thermos on the table.
“tough day?” hana asked, her voice gentle, her eyes full of sympathy.
you nodded, taking a sip of the tea. “you could say that. she’s exhausted.”
“no wonder,” misaki chimed in, shaking her head. “sana works harder than anyone gives her credit for.”
“true,” hyunwoo agreed, his expression serious. “people only see the glamorous side of her life. they don’t realise how demanding it all is.”
“but it’s different now,” takashi added, his tone thoughtful as he eyed you. “since you arrived, y/n-san. she was devastated when taehyuk retired.”
“different how?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“she’s softer,” jisoo said, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “more human, if that makes sense. she still has her tantrums, but it’s clear she’s trying to be…better. specially around you.”
you shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “i’m just doing my job.”
“it’s more than that,” misaki said with a gentle laugh. “sana isn’t just being professional with you. we’ve seen it. she’s happier when you’re around.”
“happier?” you echoed, feeling your heart skip a beat.
“yes,” hyunwoo confirmed. “it’s obvious to all of us. she looks for you in every room, always wants you nearby and is calmer when you’re there. she even listens to you and asks for your opinions, something she rarely does with anyone else.”
“and the way she watches you,” jisoo added with a teasing grin. “it’s like she’s in a romantic drama. sometimes, i wonder if i’ll walk in on a confession scene.”
the group chuckled at jisoo’s remark, but you felt a wave of emotion you couldn’t quite suppress. you had noticed these things too, the way sana’s eyes softened when she looked at you, the way she seemed to lean into your presence as if it brought her some kind of comfort.
“we’ve known sana since she was a child,” hana said quietly, her tone turning serious. “and i don’t think i’ve ever seen her this vulnerable before. she cares about you deeply, y/n.”
“it’s not just her,” takashi added, his voice low but sincere. “we all like having you here. you’ve brought a different energy to this place. one that’s been missing for a long time.”
“i don’t know if i’m doing the right thing,” you admitted, finally letting your own insecurities slip through. “sometimes, i think i’m just making things harder for her.”
“or maybe you’re the one making things easier,” jisoo said softly. “it’s clear she needs you, even if she doesn’t always say it.”
the room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air. you were grateful for the staff’s warmth and honesty, even if it complicated your feelings further.
as you finished your tea, you felt a strange sense of belonging; a feeling you hadn’t expected to find in the mansion’s staff room. you weren’t just the hired help anymore, you were someone who mattered, not just to sana, but to the people who had cared for her all these years.
however, not all moments were sweet. the intensity of being in the public eye meant that danger often lurked around the corner, specially in the form of aggressive paparazzi. they were relentless, always waiting for an opportunity to capture the heiress in vulnerable moments.
one night, as you and sana were leaving a high-profile fashion event, a group of photographers closed in, their cameras flashing incessantly. the air was thick with shouts, and the energy was hostile; an unwelcome reminder of her reality.
“sana, over here!” one yelled, his voice sharp.
“how about a smile, princess?” another taunted, his tone mocking.
you instinctively positioned yourself between sana and the crowd, your body acting as a barrier. she clutched your arm, her grip tight, her usually confident demeanor wavering.
“back off,” you commanded firmly, trying to maintain a calm but authoritative presence.
“aww, look at this,” one of the paparazzi sneered, his camera focused on you. “the bodyguard’s playing hero now.”
his comment sparked laughter among the other photographers, and you felt a surge of anger rise within you. you had learned to tune out the taunts over the months, but something about the tone, about how he was reducing your efforts to a joke, struck a nerve.
“she doesn’t need you,” he continued, his grin malicious. “you’re just another expendable employee.”
you stepped closer, your voice low but full of controlled fury. “say that again, and we’ll see how expendable i really am.”
the crowd grew tense, sensing a confrontation, but your tone and stance made it clear that you were not to be trifled with. the photographer hesitated, his bravado faltering.
“come on, let’s go,” another paparazzo muttered, nudging him away. “this one’s not worth it.”
they backed off, but the tension lingered in the air, the aftermath of the encounter still palpable.
sana tugged at your sleeve gently, her voice shaky. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine,” you said, still glaring at the retreating photographers. “what about you?”
“i hate them,” she whispered, her face crumpling slightly as she let her guard down. “i hate how they always want a piece of me.”
her vulnerability hit you hard, and without thinking, you reached out to touch her arm gently. “i know. but i won’t let them hurt you. not while i’m here.”
she looked up at you, her eyes saying it all. it was one of the few times you’d seen her without her usual armour and the rawness of her emotion was both heartbreaking and intimate.
“thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible over the din of the still-chattering crowd. “for always being here.”
“always,” you promised, feeling a rush of warmth despite the chaos around you.
that night, back at her residence, sana was unusually quiet. she seemed lost in thought, her mind replaying the day’s events. you were about to head out home for the night shift guards to take over when she called your name softly.
“y/n?” you turned around, the impacts of today etched on your face.
“yeah?”
“you keep me going,” she smiled, voice really sincere this time. “i mean it.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the third month with sana marked a distinct shift in the atmosphere between you two. it was a subtle change at first — small glances lingering a bit longer, her voice softening when she spoke to you and an almost childlike curiosity about your life. it was as if she had decided that you were no longer just a bodyguard, but someone she could confide in.
one of those nights, she broke the silence with a surprising question.
“what’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever read?” she asked, her voice a mix of genuine curiosity and something softer.
you thought for a moment, trying to sift through the endless lines of poetry and philosophy you’d absorbed over the years. finally, you recited from memory, “i have waited for you for centuries. my arms were made to cradle only you. my lips were shaped to call only your name.”
sana was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “that’s…beautiful.”
“it’s from a poem by pablo neruda,” you explained, feeling a bit self-conscious.
“you’re such a hopeless romantic,” she teased, but her tone was warm, almost tender.
“maybe,” you admitted. “but it’s just words, you know?”
“sometimes words are all we have,” she said quietly, her gaze distant.
the conversation lingered in your mind long after that night. there was a depth to sana that she rarely let anyone see, but she was beginning to let you in; piece by piece, word by word.
meanwhile, back at your shared apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun found endless amusement in the stories you brought home about sana’s escapades. they’d often sit around the small kitchen table, laughing over dinner.
“so, she really made you carry fifteen shopping bags all by yourself?” dahyun asked one night, her eyes wide with disbelief.
you nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “yup. and she didn’t even look back to check if i was struggling.���
jeongyeon snorted. “sounds like a real princess.”
“she is,” you admitted, though there was no bite in your words anymore, not after getting to see a soft side of her.
at the end of it all, sana wasn’t the stupid nepo baby you always thought she was. since you met, she has hosted five charity events, donated most of her earnings to at least ten different organisations and it wasn’t easy to outsmart her.
it was during one of these dinners that your other friends jihyo, momo and mina showed up unexpectedly with homemade food and cheap bottles of wine.
“you look…happier,” jihyo observed, a small smile playing on her lips. “is it the job?”
“maybe,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “it’s not as bad as i thought it would be.”
momo, who had a knack for teasing, leaned forward with a grin. “or maybe it’s the client?”
mina, quieter but no less curious, raised an eyebrow. “minatozaki sana, right? she’s pretty famous.”
“and pretty spoiled,” you added, but there was a hint of fondness in your voice that didn’t go unnoticed.
“oh my god, you like her,” jihyo exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “you’ve got that look in your eyes!”
“i do not,” you protested weakly, but your friends weren’t convinced.
“yeah, right,” dahyun laughed. “you totally have a crush on her.”
jeongyeon poured a shot of soju into your glass, chuckling. “you should all hear the way she talks about sana — it’s like the heiress is glued to her hip. she does fourteen-hour shifts with her.”
“okay, fine,” you admitted reluctantly. “she’s… interesting. but it’s complicated.”
“of course it is,” mina said, her tone understanding. “complicated can be good.”
the truth was, you were genuinely enjoying the job, or at least, you were enjoying being around sana. the lines between professionalism and personal feelings had blurred, and you found yourself wanting to spend more time with her, not just out of duty but out of genuine interest.
one evening, as you were preparing to leave sana’s penthouse after a long day, she stopped you at the door with an unexpected request.
“i want to meet your friends,” she said, her tone unusually earnest.
you blinked, caught off guard. “why?”
she looked a bit embarrassed, which was rare for her. “i don’t know. i just want to know more about you. the real you.”
it was a surprising moment of vulnerability from someone who usually kept her walls firmly intact.
after a moment of hesitation, you agreed. “okay, but you should know, our house looks completely different to this.”
“even better,” she smiled.
a week later, you invited sana over for dinner at your apartment. your housemates freaked out, with dahyun saying “she can’t believe this shit” and jeongyeon yelling “our house will suffocate her”, she arrived a bit too early, dressed in obvious designer clothes (she tried to make it subtle) that seemed hilariously out of place in your modest home.
the living room fell into a stunned silence as you led sana inside. she handed you flowers and wine, a small, almost shy gesture that seemed completely at odds with her usual confident demeanor.
“hi?” jeongyeon said, her eyes wide. “it’s nice to meet you!”
“i thought it was time to meet y/n’s friends properly,” sana explained, her voice earnest. “i hope i’m not intruding.”
“not at all,” dahyun interrupted quickly, breaking the awkwardness with a smile. “we’re just surprised, that’s all.”
“a pleasant surprise,” jeongyeon added warmly, recovering from the initial shock. “welcome.”
“thank you,” sana said, her smile growing more genuine. “i brought wine, if that helps.”
“it always does,” you quipped, making everyone laugh.
as the evening progressed, sana was unexpectedly charming. she asked questions, listened attentively and made a real effort to get to know each of your friends. it was clear she was trying to fit in, and there was an endearing awkwardness about it — like she was stepping into a world she didn’t quite understand, but was determined to navigate anyway.
“so, y/n never told me you’re such a good cook,” sana said to dahyun as she tasted the jjigae. “this is amazing.”
“thanks,” dahyun replied, clearly pleased. “y/n’s usually in charge of burning the rice, so i have to take over.”
“i don’t burn the rice that often,” you protested, but your grin gave you away.
“oh, really?” sana teased, her eyes twinkling. “i’ll have to try your cooking next time, then.”
the table erupted in laughter, and you felt a warmth in your chest; one that came from seeing sana blend so naturally into your world.
moments later, jeongyeon leaned forward, her expression curious. “so sana, what’s it like being…well, you? all the glamour, the attention, the pressure?”
she thought for a moment, her expression turning serious. “honestly? it’s exhausting sometimes. but being here, with all of you, feels normal. and that’s something i don’t get often.”
the sincerity in her voice struck a chord with everyone, and the atmosphere softened even further.
“well, we’re glad you’re here,” dahyun said warmly. “you’re welcome anytime.”
“thank you,” sana smiled, her gaze drifting toward you. “i really appreciate it.”
as dinner wound down and the plates piled up, everyone started to get up to clear the table. sana, to everyone’s surprise, rolled up her sleeves and headed straight for the sink.
“what are you doing?” you asked, voice filled with genuine disbelief.
“helping with the dishes,” sana replied matter-of-factly. “is that okay?”
dahyun, who had been about to start washing, handed sana a dishcloth. “here, you can dry. but don’t tell anyone, or we’ll lose our reputations as the best dishwashers in seoul.”
she laughed, taking the cloth. “your secret’s safe with me.”
as they stood side by side at the sink, sana and dahyun exchanged stories; simple things about childhood, favourite foods and embarrassing moments. you watched from the living room, feeling a mix of admiration and affection as she genuinely tried to fit into the mundane domesticity of your world.
“she’s really trying, isn’t she?” jeongyeon whispered to you, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.
“yeah,” you said softly, your eyes never leaving sana’s figure. “she is.”
and as you watched her, sleeves rolled up, drying dishes with a cheerful smile, you felt the hope you’d been suppressing slowly come back to life.
tonight was a quiet evening at her penthouse, the kind that was rare amidst the chaos of her schedule. she was sitting on the balcony, staring out at the city lights, a bottle of wine in hand. she had insisted on drinking straight from the bottle, much to the shock of her staff, but she sent them off, saying it was a “casual night.”
you joined her, taking a seat beside her on the wrought-iron chair. she offered you the bottle, a faint smile on her lips.
“want some?” she asked.
you hesitated, then took a small sip, surprised at how intimate the moment felt.
“i used to come out here a lot not too long ago,” she said suddenly, her voice softer than usual. “it was the only place where i could really think.”
“about what?” you asked, curious.
“everything,” she admitted, her gaze distant. “what it means to be me, about whether i even like who i am.”
“and do you?” you asked quietly, not sure if she’d want to answer.
“sometimes,” she said honestly. “but mostly, it feels like i’m just playing a role. being the perfect daughter, the perfect heiress…it’s exhausting.”
“you don’t have to be perfect,” you said gently. “not with me.”
she turned to look at you, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite identify. “you always say things like that,” she whispered. “and it scares me how much i want to believe you.”
the rawness of her confession left you momentarily speechless. you reached out, your hand resting on top of hers.
“i mean it,” you said sincerely. “you’re allowed to be real, sana. even if it’s messy.”
for a moment, she simply stared at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears. then, in a rare display of vulnerability, she squeezed your hand, holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
it was a good night, one that almost felt normal; like you were two regular people.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the start of the fourth month, the line between you and sana had blurred in ways that neither of you acknowledged out loud. it wasn’t just that you had become accustomed to each other’s presence; there was a deeper pull, an unspoken connection that had grown stronger despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance.
tonight was no exception. it was another high-profile fashion event for prada, filled with celebrities, influencers and models who glided through the room as if they owned the world.
you stood a few paces behind sana, keeping a watchful eye on the crowded room. she was in her element, surrounded by admirers, her confident smile perfectly polished. you tried to focus on your duties but it was hard not to be distracted by how striking she looked tonight — her black dress hugging her figure, her hair swept back elegantly, a diamond necklace catching the light with every turn of her head.
you were pulled from your thoughts when a blonde woman approached you, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. she was dressed in an expensive dress and exuded the kind of effortless confidence that could make anyone feel self-conscious.
“hey,” she said smoothly, her voice low and flirtatious. “you don’t seem like you’re here for the fashion.”
you offered a polite smile, trying to remain professional. “i’m working.”
“i figured,” she replied, stepping closer. “but even bodyguards deserve a little fun, don’t you think?”
you glanced over at sana instinctively, but she was engaged in conversation with a group of designers. for a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond to the model’s advances without drawing unnecessary attention.
“i’m not really here for fun,” you said finally, keeping your tone light but firm.
“that’s a shame,” she teased, her eyes glinting. “because you seem like someone who could use a little distraction.”
before you could respond, you caught sight of sana’s gaze shifting toward you, her smile faltering for a split second as she noticed the exchange.
there was a flicker of something in her eyes.
you quickly excused yourself from the model’s advances and returned to your position behind sana. she didn’t say anything, but you could feel a subtle shift in her demeanour — her posture a bit more rigid, her laughter a bit forced.
“everything okay?” you asked quietly when there was a brief lull in the conversation.
“fine,” she replied shortly, not meeting your gaze.
you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. the rest of the event dragged on, with sana becoming increasingly quiet, her usual spark dimming noticeably.
when the event finally ended and you both stepped into the back of the limousine, the silence was thick and uncomfortable. sana stared out the window, her expression closed off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
you glanced at her, unsure of how to break the tension. “are you sure you’re okay?”
“why wouldn’t i be?” she asked, her voice clipped.
“you seem different,” you said, choosing your words carefully.
“just tired,” she muttered, still avoiding your eyes. “that’s all.”
the drive back to the penthouse was filled with an uneasy quiet, each passing second amplifying the unspoken tension between you. it was clear that something was bothering her, but you didn’t press further, respecting her space.
when you arrived at the penthouse, she stepped out of the car abruptly, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she walked ahead without a word. you followed her inside, unsure of what to expect.
as soon as the door closed behind you, the tension in the room became almost suffocating. sana stopped in the middle of the living room, her back to you, her shoulders tense.
“was she pretty?” she asked suddenly, her voice laced with an unexpected bitterness.
“what?” you asked, confused.
“the model,” she clarified, turning to face you. “did you think she was pretty?”
her words caught you off guard. you weren’t sure how to respond.
“i wasn’t really paying attention,” you said honestly, your voice steady. “i was just doing my job.”
“right,” she said, her tone sarcastic. “because flirting is definitely part of your job description.”
“i wasn’t flirting,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice calm. “she was.”
“and you didn’t stop her,” she shot back, her eyes flashing with frustration.
you took a step closer, trying to bridge the distance between you. “sana, what’s really going on here?”
“what’s going on,” she said, her voice cracking slightly, “is that i hated seeing her talk to you. i hated seeing her try to get your attention.”
the admission hung in the air between you, charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore.
“why?” you asked softly, taking another step closer.
“because,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
her words were filled with a desperation that was impossible to misunderstand. she closed the remaining distance between you in a sudden, impulsive movement, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and longing.
“sana…” you started, but she shook her head.
“no,” she said firmly, her hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “i need to know something.”
“what?” you asked, your voice low and filled with uncertainty.
“if you want this too,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against your skin. “because i can’t keep pretending that i don’t.”
her confession was raw, filled with months of suppressed desire and longing. you could feel the warmth of her touch, the intensity in her eyes, and the vulnerability in her voice.
“i do,” you admitted, your own voice thick with emotion. “i want this.”
there was a moment of hesitation, a pause filled with the weight of everything that had brought you to this point. then, in a rush of courage, she closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.
what started as a tentative kiss soon turned into something more urgent, fueled by the months of unresolved tension. her lips were demanding, her touch insistent, and you found yourself giving in despite every rational thought screaming at you to stop. this was wrong: unprofessional, dangerous even — but it was also everything you hadn’t realised you’d been missing.
“sana —“
“don’t think,” she murmured against your skin, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “just be here. with me.”
when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
“i didn’t plan that,” she admitted, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.
“i’m glad you did it anyway,” you whispered, your heart pounding.
she let out a shaky laugh, her fingers still tracing the curve of your jaw. “stay tonight,” she said softly, her eyes filled with hope.
“okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with certainty. that was the first of many nights.
little did you know, jeongyeon and dahyun were becoming suspicious. they noticed your late returns, the occasional dazed expression on your face, and the fact that you seemed more distracted than usual.
“you’re definitely hiding something,” jeongyeon said one evening, her tone half-accusing, half-amused.
“what’s going on, y/n?” dahyun pressed. “come on, you can tell us.”
“nothing’s going on,” you lied, a bit too quickly.
jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “if it’s about sana, we already know she’s a handful. but if she’s causing you real trouble, we need to know.”
“it’s not like that,” you insisted, feeling the weight of your secret grow heavier. “it’s too complicated.”
and it was. the more you tried to keep your relationship with sana under wraps, the more tangled it became. the sneaking around, the hushed conversations, the stolen kisses — they all added up to a mess of feelings you hadn’t anticipated.
it was meant to be a routine public appearance for sana — just another glamorous event on her packed schedule. this time, it was a charity auction at one of seoul’s most upscale hotels, where wealthy socialites and influential business figures gathered to bid on overpriced art and sip vintage champagne.
you stood a few feet behind her, your gaze scanning the room with practiced caution. the past few months had sharpened your instincts; you were constantly on alert, even when sana’s attention was elsewhere.
sana, for her part, was in her element, dressed in a backless red gown that turned heads as she moved through the crowd. she was charming and magnetic, playing her role to perfection. she even shot you a few mischievous glances, as if enjoying the private joke of your secret closeness amidst all the extravagance.
then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a man approaching: his movements too quick, too direct. before you could react, he lunged toward sana, his voice an incoherent mix of anger and desperation.
“you think no one can have you?” he yelled, his eyes wild. “if i can’t have you then no one can!”
instinct took over. you stepped forward, positioning yourself between the man and sana, your body acting as a shield. his fist swung wildly, and before you could fully brace for it, his knuckles connected with your face. pain exploded across your nose, and you stumbled back, your vision blurring momentarily.
“y/n!” sana’s scream cut through the chaos, high-pitched and terrified.
you quickly recovered, holding your ground as security personnel rushed in to restrain the man. your nose throbbed, and when you touched it, you felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood.
“are you okay?” her voice was frantic as she reached you, her hands trembling as they hovered near your face.
“i’m fine,” you managed to say, though the pain was sharp and your pride was bruised. “just a scratch.”
“that’s not a scratch,” she snapped, her voice full of uncharacteristic worry. “you’re bleeding. we need to get you checked.”
“it’s nothing serious,” you insisted, trying to play it down, but the look on her face was one of genuine panic.
“i’m not taking no for an answer,” she said firmly, her hand gripping your arm. “you’re taking a week off. and that’s final.”
before you could argue, she was already barking orders to her assistant to arrange for medical help and a car back to your residence. her concern was startling; it wasn’t the spoiled diva you’d grown used to, but someone genuinely rattled by your injury.
after you got the clearance from a site medic, sana immediately jumped into the car with you — face still etched with worry.
“you were bleeding,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. she reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that caught you off guard. “i was scared.”
“it’s not that bad,” you insisted, smiling at her as you looked down on the blood all over your collar.
“this is all my fault,” she muttered, her voice filled with guilt. “if i hadn’t gone out —”
“no,” you interrupted firmly, grabbing her hand. “this isn’t your fault. it’s just part of the job.”
before she could respond, one of her managers turned to look at you both, looking frazzled and concerned. “sana, we have to leave in a different car now. there’s an urgent board meeting you can’t miss. it’s already started.”
sana’s face shifted from worry to irritation, her eyes blazing with frustration. “i’m not leaving y/n like this.”
“but sana —” junwoo began, his tone urgent.
“i don’t care,” she snapped, her voice carrying an edge you rarely heard. “she’s hurt. i’m not just abandoning her.”
you squeezed her hand, trying to stay calm despite the pain and the intensity of the moment. “sana, you have to go. this meeting is important.”
“you’re more important,” she said firmly, her eyes never leaving yours.
“i’ll be okay,” you reassured her, your voice soft but steady. “i promise. i’ll get patched up and meet you at the residence or the penthouse later.”
she hesitated, clearly torn between her duty and her concern for you. “but what if you need me? what if something happens?”
“nothing’s going to happen,” you said, your grip on her hand tightening. “you have to go. they need you right now.”
her eyes filled with tears, her jaw set in a mixture of stubbornness and helplessness. “i don’t want to leave you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “but i need you to go, please?”
for a long moment, she just stared at you, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. then, with a shaky breath, she nodded. “fine, but promise me you’ll message me later. i want to see for myself that you’re okay.”
“i promise,” you said, trying to inject confidence into your voice despite the pain.
she leaned forward suddenly, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to your forehead as a sleek silver car parked next to the one you were in. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, see you, baby!”
you waved at her, the throbbing pain spread out all over your face being replaced by your skipping heart beat. baby. you could get used to it.
half an hour later, back at your apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun were waiting with ice packs and a bottle of whiskey — ready to commiserate.
dahyun immediately clicked into nurse mode, cleaning your cut while jeongyeon shook her head, half-amused and half-worried.
“you really took one for the team, huh?” jeongyeon teased, though her eyes were soft with concern.
“it was my job,” you said, wincing as dahyun applied pressure to stop the bleeding.
“well, she better appreciate it,” mina muttered. “because that guy landed a pretty solid punch with his rings on too.”
you were trying to downplay the whole incident, but a knock at the door interrupted your attempts at nonchalance. it was unexpected, no one ever dropped by unannounced.
you shared a confused glance with your roommates before jeongyeon went to open the door.
“what the —” jeongyeon’s surprised voice echoed from the entryway.
when you peeked around the corner, you saw sana standing there, holding an enormous gift basket filled with flowers, chocolates, and other expensive-looking items. behind her stood tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon, each carrying bags of what looked like more gifts.
“we’re here to see y/n,” sana announced, her tone a strange mix of confidence and nervousness.
you froze. this was the last thing you’d expected — not just sana’s sudden appearance, but the fact that she’d brought her high-society friends to your modest apartment.
“uh, come in, i guess,” jeongyeon said awkwardly, stepping aside to let them in.
as soon as sana saw you, her expression softened. she rushed over, setting the basket on the table before gently cupping your face, inspecting the damage.
“are you okay?” she asked, her voice low and filled with concern. “i only showed up to the meeting to sign papers and then left.”
“it’s just a bruise,” you reassured her, feeling self-conscious under everyone’s gaze. “you didn’t have to come here straight away.”
“yes, i did,” she insisted. “and i brought reinforcements,” she gestured toward tzuyu, chaeyoung and nayeon, who were now trying to make themselves comfortable amidst the clutter of your shared living space.
“we heard y/n got hurt,” tzuyu said simply, her usually aloof expression softening.
“yeah, and sana was freaking out,” nayeon added with a grin, nudging sana’s shoulder playfully. “she made us come along to make sure she wasn’t exaggerating, and of course, to carry her bags around.”
chaeyoung, meanwhile, looked around with interest. “this place is cozy. it’s a lot more…real than i expected.”
“thanks, i think,” dahyun said, still processing the fact that she was suddenly hosting four of asia’s wealthiest heirs in her living room. “so, uh, anyone want some ramen?”
“we brought food,” sana interjected quickly, motioning to the bags her friends had carried in. “i figured you wouldn’t want to cook after everything.”
before long, the table was filled with takeout boxes, a mix of high-end sushi, tempura and even a few bottles of sake. the atmosphere gradually eased into a strange, unexpected bond.
tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon proved to be surprisingly down-to-earth despite what the tabloids say, laughing at jeongyeon and dahyun’s stories about dealing with unruly celebrities and bar crowd.
“not gonna lie,” tzuyu said, looking around playfully. “i’ve been one of those uncontrollable patrons.”
“oh, you have,” dahyun smirked, crossing her arms. “met gala, last year, vomit.”
“oh my god,” she put a hand over her mouth with careful exaggeration. “no way, it was you?”
“you sure as hell are lucky it wasn’t jeongyeon!”
throughout dinner, sana stayed close to you —closer than she’d ever dared to in public. she held your hand under the table, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. she even pressed a soft kiss to your forehead at one point, eliciting a few curious glances from your friends, who pretended not to notice.
“so, y/n,” nayeon began, a sly smile on her face. “how’s it been, working with sana? she’s not too much of a diva, is she?”
“she’s been fine,” you answered diplomatically, though the warmth in your voice was hard to miss.
“fine?” sana echoed, pouting slightly. “is that all you have to say about me?”
“you’re okay, too,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“wow, such high praise,” chaeyoung quipped, making everyone laugh.
beneath the humour, there was an unmistakable shift in the air. it was as if your secret had been revealed; acknowledged but not addressed.
everyone seemed to sense the connection between you and sana, but no one dared to bring it up directly.
after dinner, while everyone was chatting in the living room, jeongyeon pulled you aside into the kitchen. her expression was serious, her voice low.
“are you really okay, y/n?” she asked, searching your face.
“i am,” you said, though you knew she wasn’t just asking about the physical injury.
“you and sana, what’s going on there?” jeongyeon asked bluntly.
you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “it’s complicated.”
“no kidding,” she said dryly. “but seriously, y/n. you’re getting in deep with her. are you ready for that?”
you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t know. it’s not like i planned for any of this to happen.”
“i get that,” jeongyeon said, her voice softening. “but just be careful, okay? she’s got a lot more power in this situation than you do.”
you nodded, appreciating the concern. “i know. but right now, i think she’s worth it.”
jeongyeon didn’t say anything more, but the look in her eyes said enough. she was worried for you, not just because of the obvious risks but because she knew how easy it was for someone like sana to break your heart — intentionally or not.
back in the living room, sana caught your eye and gave you a questioning look. you offered a reassuring smile and she immediately relaxed, resuming her conversation with tzuyu.
it was a small moment, but it meant everything in the context of your complicated relationship.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the fifth month of working for sana, your relationship had settled into an unexpected rhythm — one that was equal parts professional obligation and genuine attachment. there were still the usual challenges: sana’s diva moments, sudden mood swings and the pressure of keeping up with her unpredictable schedule. but there were also the quiet moments; late-night conversations on the balcony, her head resting on your shoulder as you both gazed at the city lights below.
meeting sana’s parents, however, was a different kind of challenge altogether. it was a sunny saturday afternoon when you were summoned to the minatozaki family estate, an opulent mansion that dwarfed even the luxury of sana’s usual residence.
the invitation was a surprise, but you had no choice but to accept, sana’s mother was adamant about meeting “the employee who’s lasted the longest.”
“relax,” sana whispered as you both stepped out of the car. she looked stunning in a pastel pink dress, her hair pulled back in an elegant bun. “they’re not as intimidating as they seem.”
you doubted that, but you nodded anyway, keeping your expression neutral. inside, you were a bundle of nerves.
the meeting, to your surprise, went better than expected. mr. and mrs. minatozaki were polite, even warm. they asked you a series of questions — mostly about your background, how you found the job and your experience working with their daughter. you answered truthfully, though you kept your personal feelings well-hidden.
“we appreciate your dedication, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said with a smile. she was a poised woman, with a sharp gaze that seemed to see through people. “sana has never kept a bodyguard for this long. she must trust you a great deal.”
you felt a strange sense of pride at the comment, even as you maintained your composure. “thank you, ma’am. i’m just doing my job.”
“well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” mr. minatozaki added. “we’ve seen a positive change in sana since you started.”
sana blushed slightly at that, her usual confidence replaced with a hint of vulnerability. you couldn’t help but glance at her, and she caught your eye with a soft smile — one that was meant only for you.
later that night, sana gave you the rare gift of a night off. you returned to your apartment, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. the validation from sana’s parents was unexpected, and it lingered in your mind as you walked through the door.
jeongyeon, dahyun, mina, momo, and jihyo were all gathered in the living room, a mix of snacks and drinks spread out on the coffee table. it was meant to be a casual girls’ night, but you knew from their curious expressions that they were eager for more details.
“so, how’d it go?” jihyo asked, as soon as you stepped inside.
“with the parents?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you kicked off your shoes.
“yeah, obviously,” mina chimed in, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “we want to know everything.”
“it was fine,” you replied, plopping down on the couch beside momo. “they’re nice, surprisingly.”
“and?” momo prodded, grinning. “did they grill you? ask if you’re dating their daughter?”
“no,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt warm. “it was just formal stuff…but i think they caught on.”
“boring,” mina teased, but her gaze was soft, clearly pleased that you hadn’t had a terrible time.
dahyun leaned forward, an amused glint in her eyes. “speaking of surprise meetings…did we tell you about how the heiresses showed up here last week?”
jihyo blinked, caught off guard. “wait, what? the four heiresses of the apocalypse?”
“oh yeah,” jeongyeon confirmed, laughing. “sana, tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon came by. apparently, sana was worried about y/n’s pretty face.”
“they even brought gifts,” dahyun added, still looking mildly astonished. “for all of us.”
mina’s eyes widened. “wait, sana came here? and brought gifts? the world really is ending.”
“and she was super protective of y/n,” jeongyeon continued, smirking. “held her hand the whole time and even kissed her forehead.”
“whoa,” momo said, her jaw dropping theatrically. “y/n, you’ve got it bad.”
“it’s not like that,” you protested weakly, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you.
jihyo crossed her arms, looking unconvinced. “sounds pretty serious to me.”
“serious or not,” mina interjected gently, “you seem happy, y/n. we’re just worried, you know? she’s…a lot. like, powerful.”
you sighed, grateful for their concern but also conflicted. “i know she is. but it’s complicated, my contract’s about to end.”
“extend it you goof,” dahyun giggled. “you get paid whilst dating your boss? sounds pretty sweet to me.”
“we’re not dating!”
“yet,” mina sighed.
“yeah, yeah,” you groaned, grabbing a handful of skittles and shoving them into your mouth. “whatever you say.”
as the evening went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics — gossip about work, updates on personal lives and reminiscing about old times.
the final weeks of your contract approached quickly, and the impending end of your time with sana hung over both of you like a dark cloud. there were still stolen moments, secret kisses in the back of cars, whispered confessions late at night yet the tension was growing. you hadn’t told her about your decision yet, but she seemed to sense that something was off.
one afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside sana in the mansion’s garden, the autumn air cool and crisp. she was unusually quiet, a distant look in her eyes as she gazed at the small koi pond.
you often caught yourself watching her, memorising the way she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled when she teased you, or the way she absentmindedly reached for your hand when she thought no one was looking. it was getting harder to keep your feelings hidden, but you knew that admitting your love would make leaving even more painful.
“you know, i used to come here a lot when i was a kid,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and tinged with nostalgia. “back when things were simpler. my mother would bring me here after her meetings. she’d always tell me that the koi fish represented strength and resilience.”
you watched her as she spoke, the sadness in her voice palpable. it was rare for her to share such personal memories and you felt honoured, even as it added to the weight in your chest.
“and sometimes,” she continued, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips, “hana and misaki would sneak me sweets from the kitchen. they were always so kind to me, treating me like i was just one of their girls instead of…well, me.”
you tried to smile but your thoughts were elsewhere; focused on the fact that you didn’t belong in this world of koi ponds and lavish mansions. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were simply a temporary fixture in her life.
“y/n?” sana’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone laced with concern. “are you okay? you seem distant.”
you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “i’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”
she tilted her head, studying you with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through your defenses. “is it about us?”
“i don’t know where i stand in your life,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “and i’m not sure i belong here.”
“of course you belong here,” she said instantly, her voice filled with an urgency that startled you. “you’re important to me, y/n. more than you think.”
you turned to look at her, searching for any hint of doubt in her eyes, but all you saw was sincerity. “how important?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m just your bodyguard.”
“you’re not just anything,” she insisted, reaching out to take your hand. “my love, you’ve become…so much more than that. you’re the person i look for in every room.”
her confession hit you hard, but instead of relief, it only deepened your internal conflict. “your life is too different from mine. you have everything — money, status, opportunities. i can’t compete with that, i have nothing to give.”
“i’m not asking you to compete,” she said, squeezing your hand tighter. “i’m asking you to stay.”
the raw vulnerability in her voice nearly broke your resolve. you wanted so desperately to say yes, to promise her a future that felt impossible. but the practical side of you, the side that had always been wary of hope — kept you grounded.
“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice cracking. “what happens when i’m no longer part of this world? when your life goes on, and i’m just a memory?”
“i don’t want you to be a memory,” she said fiercely, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “i want you here. with me.”
the sincerity in her words shattered something inside you. it was everything you wanted to hear, but also everything that scared you the most.
“sana,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “i never meant to fall in love with you.”
your confession catches her off guard. “then why are you pushing me away?”
“because loving you feels too dangerous,” you admitted, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “i’m terrified of what will happen if i stay.”
“then let’s be terrified together,” she said, her own tears finally breaking free. “we don’t have to figure everything out right now. please don’t give up on us before we even start. i’m in love with you, i’ve been in love with you from the beginning.”
her plea hung in the air, desperate, as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. staying meant risking everything: your heart, your future, your sense of self.
in that moment, with her hand holding yours and her eyes full of hope, the idea of leaving felt even more unbearable.
you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet. instead, you squeezed her hand back, a silent acknowledgment of the love that had grown between you, even if it felt too fragile to last.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the decision not to renew your contract weighed on you like an impending storm. and as if to reinforce your decision, the universe seemed intent on reminding you of the vast gap between your reality and sana’s.
sana was used to being around the rich, the famous, and the powerful. her social circles included heirs, models, and celebrities — people who shared her lifestyle and effortlessly fit into her world.
you, on the other hand, often felt like an outsider peering in, a temporary presence among the permanent fixtures of her life.
one evening, at an exclusive charity gala, you found yourself in a large, glittering ballroom, filled with the one percent of the world. sana, dressed in a stunning emerald gown, was the center of attention as always.
standing beside her, you remained alert, your gaze trained on the crowd.
and then, there he was — one of sana’s suitors, a man who seemed perfectly tailored for her life. tall, impeccably dressed and oozing charisma, he approached with a confident smile.
“sana,” he greeted warmly, extending a hand. “it’s good to see you.”
“hello hiroshi,” she replied, her voice pleasant but distant. you noticed a flicker of discomfort in her eyes, but she masked it well.
hiroshi, the heir to a luxury conglomerate, was a familiar face at events like these. you’d heard whispers about him before; he was one of the many eligible bachelors rumoured to be pursuing sana.
“you look beautiful tonight,” hiroshi continued, his voice smooth.
“thank you,” she said politely, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. she glanced at you briefly, a silent reassurance that felt hollow amidst the glamour.
the evening dragged on, with more suitors and admirers approaching sana, each one embodying the wealth and prestige you couldn’t compete with. they all seemed so polished, so effortlessly at ease in her world.
every time she exchanged a polite smile or a charming laugh, you felt yourself pulling further away, retreating into your own insecurities.
then came the moment that felt like the final blow.
at another event a few weeks later, held at one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, you found yourself standing at a distance, watching sana from across the room. she was engaged in conversation with a group of old friends, including one you recognised immediately — her ex-boyfriend, jake.
he was a well-known musician, popular and adored by many. his easy charm and confident presence were evident as he chatted with sana, their laughter echoing above the hum of the party.
he was everything you weren’t — wealthy, famous, and someone who had once been deeply embedded in sana’s life.
the crowd seemed to love the idea of them together. cheers and playful shouts of encouragement rang out as someone raised a glass in their direction.
“come on, get back together!” someone yelled, and the room erupted in lighthearted agreement.
sana’s face flushed slightly, but she maintained her composure, laughing it off. “stop it,” she chided, her tone playful but firm.
you felt a sickening twist in your gut, watching her interact so effortlessly with jake. they looked good together.
you tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that it was just an old relationship, but seeing them together made you painfully aware of how small you felt in her world.
“what a couple, huh?” a staff member mumbled to you.
“yeah, i guess,” you turned away, unable to watch any longer.
it was a reminder of why you’d made your decision: you didn’t belong here. you were just a temporary part of her life, someone who would eventually be replaced by someone like jake or hiroshi — someone who fit in.
later that night, as you both drove back to her residence, sana seemed unusually quiet. you could sense that she had noticed your change in mood, but you weren’t ready to talk about it.
not yet.
“y/n my love,” she finally said as you reached her front door, her voice hesitant. “are you okay? you’ve been distant all night.”
“i’m fine,” you lied, avoiding her gaze. “just tired.”
“is it…about jake?” she asked, her tone soft, as if afraid of your answer.
you hesitated, then shook your head. “it’s not just him. it’s everything, sana. all of this — your world, the people in it. it’s too different from mine.”
“but i don’t care about that,” she insisted, stepping closer. “i care about you.”
“and that’s exactly why i have to leave,” you said, your voice breaking. “i don’t want to be the one who holds you back, the one who can’t match up to the life you deserve.”
“you’re not holding me back,” she protested, tears welling up in her eyes. “you’re the only real thing in my life.”
“but i’ll always be just the bodyguard,” you said, your heart shattering with every word. “and you’ll always be the heiress.”
“you’re more than that,” she pleaded, grabbing your arm. “can’t you see that?”
“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice filled with pain. “because this will never work, not in the way you want it to.”
she stared at you, her expression a mix of desperation and heartbreak. “so, that’s it? you’ve already made up your mind?”
“yes,” you admitted, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i have.”
“so, when were you going to tell me?” she asked, voice cracking but her stare was cold.
“i was going to tell you,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible above the hum of the car engine. “i just didn’t know how.”
“didn’t know how?” she repeated, her tone turning sharp. “you were just going to disappear without even talking to me?”
“it’s not like that!”
“then what is it like?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with hurt and betrayal. “are you just like everyone else, y/n? were you using me this whole time?”
“no,” you said, feeling a surge of desperation. “you know that’s not true.”
“then why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “why are you leaving?”
“because i don’t belong in your world,” you said, your own voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “i’ve told you that over and over again.”
“i never cared about that,” she shouted, her face flushed with anger and tears. “i care about you, y/n. i’ve given you everything i have, and it still isn’t enough?”
“that’s not fair,” you shot back, feeling your own anger rise. “it’s not about what you’ve given me. it’s about what i can’t give you. you’ll always have to explain why you’re with someone like me.”
“i never asked you to be anything else!” she yelled, her voice breaking completely. “i just wanted you to stay.”
“and that’s what makes this so hard,” you said, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i love you, sana. but loving you isn’t enough to make this work.”
the car pulled up to the mansion, but neither of you moved to get out. the driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror, unsure of what to do.
“get out,” sana said suddenly, her voice low but firm.
you hesitated, unsure if she meant it literally or figuratively. “sana —”
“get out,” she repeated, her voice rising. “we’re finishing this conversation inside.”
you both stepped out of the car, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. she stormed up the steps, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor and you followed, feeling the impending doom settle in your chest.
as soon as you were inside the mansion, the argument erupted again.
“you’re a coward,” she spat, her voice echoing through the grand hall. “you’re just running away because it’s easier than staying.”
“it’s not about running away,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “it’s about facing reality.”
“reality?” she laughed bitterly, her eyes wild with emotion. “the reality is that you’re too scared to take a chance on us.”
“because i know how this ends,” you said, your own voice rising now. “it ends with me being a burden in your life, a constant reminder of what doesn’t fit.”
“you’re not a burden!” she screamed, her face streaked with tears. “you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like me, not just the heiress, not just the brand.”
the sound of footsteps approaching caught both of your attention, and you turned to see mr. and mrs. minatozaki standing at the top of the grand staircase, looking shocked and concerned.
“what’s going on here?” mrs. minatozaki asked, her voice filled with alarm.
“stay out of this, mother,” sana said, her voice raw. “this is between me and y/n.”
“sana,” her father tried to interject, his voice gentle. “we can talk about this calmly —”
“there’s nothing to talk about,” she cut him off, her eyes fixed on you. “y/n wants to leave. she doesn’t think she belongs here.”
“because i don’t,” you said quietly, your voice filled with an agonising finality. “i’ll never be able to give you the life you deserve.”
“what i deserve?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “what i deserve is to be with someone who loves me enough to stay.”
“and what if that love isn’t enough?” you asked, your heart breaking as the words left your lips. “what if it only causes more pain?”
“then we face it together,” she said, her voice softening for the first time. “but you’ve already given up, you decided for us without even talking to me.”
the truth in her words was undeniable and it left you feeling exposed and helpless. you had given up; not because you didn’t love her, but because you were terrified of what loving her meant.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face.
her expression hardened again, a mix of anger, heartbreak and resignation. “sorry isn’t enough.”
“i know,” you said, your voice barely audible.
she stared at you for a long moment, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. then, with a coldness that felt like a final blow, she uttered the word that shattered everything between you.
“leave.”
“sana, please —”
“i said, leave,” she repeated, her voice empty now. “before i regret you.”
you didn’t move for a moment, unable to believe it was really ending like this but her eyes were dead serious and you knew there was no room for negotiation.
with a final look, you turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a nail in your heart. you could hear her sobs behind you, raw and uncontrollable, but you didn’t turn back.
it was for the better.
as the mansion doors closed behind you, the enormity of what you’d lost crashed over you like a wave. you had thought leaving would hurt less than staying, but now, as you stood on the steps of the life you could have had, you realised you had never been more wrong.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it had been nearly two months since you left the minatozaki mansion, but the wounds felt as fresh as ever. you were still trying to move forward, but most days felt like you were just treading water, struggling to keep from sinking beneath the weight of your own heartbreak.
you had saved up enough money to pay for the next six months of rent and food, but there was no joy in the security it offered. it just felt like a countdown to more loneliness.
despite your efforts to stay away from news about sana, you couldn’t avoid the headlines completely.
she had been partying non-stop, her face appearing on every tabloid cover — smiling but empty-eyed, reckless but lost. there were photos of her stumbling out of clubs, surrounded by people who seemed more like shadows than friends. one image stood out in particular: sana, arm-in-arm with jake, her ex, looking disheveled and drained.
the caption suggested they were rekindling their romance, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it — or perhaps, you didn’t want to.
you tried to drown your sorrows in alcohol, spending most nights at a small bar nearby. it was dark and dingy, a stark contrast to the places you’d been with sana, but it felt fitting. the drinks were cheap, and the bartender never asked questions.
“are you okay?” jihyo asked one night when she found you slumped over your kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey beside you. her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.
“no,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “i’m not.”
“this isn’t like you, y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “you’re not the type to just give up.”
“maybe i am now,” you replied, taking another swig from the bottle. “maybe i never should’ve tried in the first place.”
jihyo reached out, her hand squeezing yours. “we’re here for you, okay? no matter what.”
their support felt distant, muted by the constant ache of missing sana. you knew your friends were worried; how you barely ate, how you showed up to gatherings disheveled and silent, a shadow of who you used to be.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
a few days later, when you were nursing a hangover from another lonely night at the bar, your phone rang. it was an unknown number, and you hesitated before answering.
“hello?”
“y/n?” a familiar voice asked, tentative but warm. it was mrs. minatozaki.
“yes, this is y/n,” you confirmed, surprised. “mrs. minatozaki?”
“i’m sorry to call you like this,” she began gently. “but my husband and i were hoping you could come to the mansion. there’s something we need to discuss with you.”
you felt a wave of apprehension, unsure of what to expect. but something in her tone; soft, almost pleading — made it impossible for you to say no.
“i’ll be there,” you agreed quietly.
the mansion felt as imposing as ever when you arrived, its grandeur a stark reminder of the world you had tried to leave behind. you were greeted by the familiar staff, who offered polite smiles before leading you to a cozy sitting room. mrs. minatozaki was already seated on a velvet armchair, her husband standing beside her with a solemn expression.
“thank you for coming, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said warmly, gesturing for you to sit. “we know this isn’t easy for you.”
“what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “is it about sana?”
“yes,” mr. minatozaki replied, his tone serious but gentle. “she’s…not doing well. we’re very worried about her.”
“we thought she would eventually find a way to cope,” mrs. minatozaki added, her voice breaking slightly. “but it’s clear now that she’s just trying to numb the pain.”
you felt a stab of guilt, even though you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to hurt her like this.”
“we know,” mr. minatozaki said softly. “and that’s why we wanted to talk to you.”
“sana has always been a passionate person,” mrs. minatozaki continued. “but she’s never loved anyone the way she loves you. we’ve seen her with past lovers — there was never this depth of feeling, never this kind of vulnerability.”
her words hit you hard, and you struggled to process them. “but i don’t fit into this world,” you said, your voice filled with insecurity. “i’m just —“
“and that’s exactly why we accept you,” mr. minatozaki said firmly. “you love our daughter for who she is, not for what she represents. we don’t care about the gossip or the opinions of others. we care about her happiness.”
“it’s true,” mrs. minatozaki added, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “we want you to know that you have our support completely.”
tears welled up in your eyes at their words, the acceptance and understanding you’d never thought you’d receive.
“thank you,” you whispered, overwhelmed. “i just…i don’t know if she’ll want me back.”
before they could respond, the sound of commotion erupted from the foyer. voices, urgent and alarmed, echoed through the mansion’s grand halls.
“what’s happening?” mrs. minatozaki asked, standing up abruptly.
a moment later, two security guards entered the room, struggling to support a barely-conscious sana. her makeup was smudged, her hair disheveled, and her eyes half-closed. she was clearly intoxicated, her legs barely able to hold her weight.
“sana!” mrs. minatozaki exclaimed, rushing over.
“we found her like this outside a club,” one of the guards explained apologetically. “she insisted on coming home.”
your heart broke at the sight of her, the reckless desperation evident in every inch of her being. without a second thought, you stepped forward.
“let me take care of her,” you said softly, moving to her side.
sana’s eyes fluttered open, but they were unfocused, clouded by alcohol and exhaustion. “y/n?” she slurred, her voice thick with confusion.
“it’s me,” you said gently, your hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “i’m here.”
“no, you’re not real,” she mumbled, her head lolling against your shoulder. “you’re just… another dream.”
“i’m real,” you insisted. “i promise, i’m real.”
her body went limp against you, and you struggled to support her weight. with help from the guards, you managed to get her upstairs and into her bedroom. she collapsed onto the bed, her breaths shallow and uneven.
you stayed by her side through the night, watching over her as she tossed and turned in her sleep. her face was flushed, her expression troubled even in unconsciousness. you couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her hand, hoping that somehow, your touch could offer her peace.
the next morning, sana stirred awake, her head pounding and her mouth dry. she squinted against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her vision slowly focusing. when she saw you sitting beside the bed, her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over her.
“y/n?” she asked, her voice hoarse and hesitant.
“hey,” you said softly, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “how are you feeling?”
“like shit,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “but why…why are you here?”
“your parents called me,” you explained gently. “they were worried about you. i was worried too.”
sana’s eyes filled with tears, her shoulders shaking with the weight of everything she’d been holding back. “i thought i lost you,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “i thought you were really gone.”
“i thought i was gone too,” you admitted, your own tears falling. “but i realised that leaving you hurt more than anything else.”
“you’re not just saying that because my mother asked you to come, are you?” she asked, her vulnerability laid bare.
“no,” you said, reaching out to take her hand. “i’m saying it because i love you. and i want to be with you — no matter what.”
her lips trembled as she tried to hold back more tears. “i want that, too.”
you took a deep breath, feeling the fear and hope collide within you. “if you still want me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart. “i want to try again. for real this time.”
sana’s sobs turned into laughter, a mix of relief and disbelief. “of course i want you,” she said, reaching for your hand. “i’m sorry, i’ve always wanted you.”
you pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her body relax against yours. she buried her face in your neck, her breath warm against your skin.
“i’m sorry, too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “for the photos, for being so reckless. none of it was true, i just wanted to forget.”
“i know,” you said, stroking her hair gently. “but we don’t have to forget. we just have to move forward.”
“together?” she asked, looking up at you with a mix of hope and fear.
“together,” you confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
later that evening, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, sana’s breathing slow and steady against your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. it wasn’t going to be easy but you were ready to face it.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the end.
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urbanayush · 2 years ago
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iww-gnv · 9 months ago
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SEATTLE (AP) — For months, Andrea studied for her master’s degree in library sciences between dancing naked at clubs in Seattle. But then she was sexually assaulted at work and slapped by a customer — and nobody stepped in to help. Now, she and hundreds of other strippers in Washington state are fighting for statewide protections that would be the most comprehensive in the U.S., according to advocates. “We shouldn’t be verbally abused for just doing our job and existing,” said Andrea, who has seen a DJ at one club harass dancers if they don’t tip him enough. She avoids the club if he’s there, said the 24-year-old, who would only use her first name. The Associated Press does not identify people who say they have been sexually assaulted. Known as the “strippers’ bill of rights,” proposals being considered in the Legislature would require a security guard at each club, keypad codes to enter dressing rooms, training for employees on preventing sexual harassment, and procedures if a customer is violent. They would also require training on how to de-escalate conflict between dancers, employees and customers, and signs stating that dancers are not required to hand over tips.
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teapartyprincess4two · 9 months ago
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Bad Day- J. Guilbert
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pairing: girlfriend!reader x boyfriend!Johnnie
classification: slight angst, fluff
warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, Jake and Tara are dating in this, short
inspiration: request
summary: Johnnie is the moon and you’re the sun, always bright, bubbly and energetic. Nobody believes that someone as positive as you can ever have a bad day, but when you do Johnnie is ready to comfort you through it.
Everyone has that one friend who is the personification of sunshine, that one friend that always seems to have a smile on their face and holds a positive attitude no matter what. This said friend is always the shoulder for others to cry on, the helping hand in a time of need, and the person everyone seeked for advice. In your friend group you were that friend. You were loved by everyone and loved everyone. So, it comes as no surprise that your friends have never seen you in a bad mood and have never known you to have a bad day.
But, contrary to popular belief, you are no stranger to a bad day. In fact, you have more bad days than you let on, usually masking your anger or sadness with a smile. Johnnie has always been able to read you though, he knows when you’re actually happy and when you’re putting on a facade, whether it be for your friends or for the cameras.
Today was one of those odd days when everything was just going wrong, you just couldn’t seem to catch a break. First, your alarm didn’t go off, causing you to wake up late. If it wasn’t for how hot it was in your room, you would’ve never woken up. You were sweating so much that you felt gross and sticky, but because you woke up late, you had less time to get ready which meant you didn’t even have time to shower. So, you were forced to rush to your dental appointment looking extremely tired, flustered, and greasy.
Once you finally arrived at the dental office, you tried to calm down, you were trying to have a positive outlook in hopes that your bad luck might turn around. But, while the dentist was doing your routine check-up, he found a total of 3 cavities in your mouth. According to the dentist, the cavities were so bad that if you didn’t get emergency fillings your tooth was sure to rot to the bone. You exhaled deeply, wishing all the negative thoughts away, and proceeding with an unexpected procedure. Then, as if your luck couldn’t get any worse, your insurance didn’t cover the emergency fillings, causing you to pay money out of pocket you hadn’t budgeted for.
On your way home it was just one thing after another. You turned the car on, only for it to be low on gas. ‘Not a big deal,’ you thought, praying that this is where your bad luck ended. While pumping gas, though, you stepped in a big puddle of water that got into your shoes and seeped into your socks. You tried not to let it bother you, especially since you’d be home soon, but you were only human.
After such a bad morning, you decide to buy yourself a treat, opting for McDonalds because it was the closest, cheapest thing around. You pulled up to the drive through, using the cheeriest tone you could muster, only to be slapped in the face by the worst customer service experience ever. Normally you wouldn’t have read too much into the situation, but considering you’ve had a pretty bad day so far, it was all just adding up. After paying for and receiving your food, you realized that half of your order was missing. You hated having to be the annoying customer that storms into the restaurant with a receipt in hand, but after the day you’ve had this was the one thing you couldn’t to let slide.
You walk into the restaurant, one hand cradling the bag of food, the other holding onto the receipt as you waited patiently to be acknowledged by at least one employee. You must’ve waited 15 minutes before someone finally noticed you, giving you the blankest stare as they asked, “Can I help you?” If this would’ve happened on any other day, you would’ve completely understood and sympathized with the employee for disliking their job, but you’re so on edge right now that even this seems like a big deal. “Hi, yes. I’m missing a few item-“ you put on your best customer service voice, but before you can even finish your sentence the employee is cutting you off by talking to someone through their headset, “some lady says she’s missing stuff from her order?”
Great, this was sure to become a bigger deal than it had to be. Someone must’ve told the employee what to say over the headset because she asks, “you have the receipt?” You hold the receipt up, but they don’t let you speak before they’re snatching it away and grabbing your bag too. At this point you’re wondering if the chicken nuggets are worth the trouble, should you just quit while you’re ahead and go home?
In the end you ended up getting your missing items, but you were already so frustrated by that point that it didn’t even matter anymore. The manager ended up getting involved, claiming you received everything in your order. She fought with you, raised her voice and got unreasonably upset while you tried to keep your cool, but one can only take so much. You didn’t want to, but you ended up raising your voice too because she wasn’t listening to reason, she never even checked your bag to see if everything was in there. Overall it was just a terrible situation that drained you both socially and emotionally.
After an encounter like that, most people would feel proud for having stood their ground, but you felt like screaming and crying. You weren’t a confrontational person, in fact you always tried keeping a positive attitude even in stressful situations to avoid situations like this. So now you’re walking out of the restaurant with your head held high as to not show weakness, but your spirit was so low it was practically hitting the floor. As soon as you were in your car and away from judgmental eyes, you were crying. Everything just kept adding up and even though nothing majorly tragic happened to you today, it just became too much to bare.
You’re leaning against the steering wheel, trying to calm down before you start driving home, but all you can think about is the horrible day you’ve had. All you wanted to do was go home and curl up under a blanket, hiding yourself from the world until you were ready to crawl back out. The emotions were so intense that you weren’t even hungry anymore. And to top it off, you were expecting visitors today who were probably already waiting for you at your house. All you could do was hope Johnnie would keep them busy while you dissociated in your room for a while.
You took a deep breath, shutting your eyes tightly and willing the tears away. “It’s gonna be okay,” you whisper, your voice coming out shaky as you try reassuring yourself that this isn’t the end of the world. Finally you pull out of the parking lot, mentally preparing yourself for the rest of the day.
Johnnie, Jake, and Tara are all hanging out in your living room. When you arrived home they were watching a scary movie, a common occurrence in your friend group. You all usually chilled at home, opting for cozy nights in over loud, hectic nights out. Johnnie saved a spot for you, complete with your favorite blanket, a bag of popcorn, and a cold drink. You trudged inside, plopping the bag of food on the kitchen counter before making a quick appearance in the living room.
Everyone was excited to see you, they always were, and although you were excited to see them too, you just greeted them quickly before retreating to your room. Usually you’d be extremely bubbly, obnoxiously hugging everyone and immediately cuddling up to Johnnie. So, when you offered everyone a meek wave, Johnnie knew something was wrong.
Johnnie immediately picked up on the way your shoulders slumped and your feet dragged along the floor. He noticed that there was an underlying red tint in your eyes, they were glossed over from the tears you previously shed. Your shoes were wet and muddy, your face was swollen from the dental appointment, and your usual smile was replaced by a small frown. You just looked drained, and that was unusual for someone who was usually bouncing off the walls with energy.
Yours and Johnnie’s personality difference was one of the greatest defining factors in your relationship. Where he was more laid back and mysterious, you were energetic and outgoing. Of course he wasn’t shy, but he was extremely reserved in unfamiliar situations, while you were always ready to dive in head first no matter the scenario.
The movie plays lowly in the background, the soft light from the tv illuminating the dark room just enough for everyone’s faces to be visible. You’ve been home for an hour at this point, but you haven’t come out of your room since. Even Jake and Tara have noticed, all three of them murmuring about what could possibly be wrong. You were the light of the group, if you were sad then everyone was sad. “Do you think she’s sick?” Tara asks, sending Johnnie a worried look.
“I don’t know, probably,” Jake says with a shrug before Johnnie can respond, Jake always did a good job of being acutely unaware of everything.
“I was asking Johnnie,” Tara replies with an eye roll, scoffing before pausing the movie. “She went to the dentist today, maybe she’s just tired,” Johnnie finally says, trying to think of any and every reason you could be sad.
Tara hums in response, satisfied with Johnnie’s answer. It seemed logical enough, most people were usually tired after dental appointments, especially when they had emergency work done. Tara presses play on the movie, leaning into Jake again as she tries getting comfy. Johnnie tries focusing on the movie, watching as the characters on the screen run away from the whatever’s chasing them, but with each scene change his mind goes crazy. What could have you so upset?
He looks over at Jake and Tara, they’re cuddled up under a blanket as they share a bag of popcorn. That’s when Johnnie realizes that not only does he feel like a third wheel, but he should be comforting you instead of sitting here barely paying attention to a movie.
“Let me go check on her,” Johnnie says abruptly, throwing the blanket on his lap to the side and standing from the couch. Jake and Tara watch in confusion as he disappears down the hallway before averting their attention back to the movie.
Even though it’s Johnnie’s room too, he knocks on the door softly before walking in. “Y/n?” his voice is hushed, not wanting to scare or startle you incase you’re asleep. The room is pitch black and quiet, the only light coming from your phone. You’re rolled over on your side, scrolling aimlessly on TikTok in search of something that’ll make you feel better. So far, nothing’s worked.
You hear him but you don’t respond, so he tries again, “Baby?” He slowly walks over to the bed, pulling up the covers and crawling in next to you. Usually you’d melt into his touch, but as he wraps an arm around you, you just continue scrolling on your phone. Johnnie doesn’t take it personally though because he knows that this isn’t how you usually act, “you okay?” He feathers a finger over your face, brushing the stray hair out of the way as he kisses your cheek.
That kiss is enough to bring the emotions flooding back again, causing you to scrunch your face and immediately begin crying. A small, downturned smile forms on Johnnie’s face as he pulls you into him. It’s such a sad sight to see you cry, but he’s happy that you’re comfortable enough to let it all go in front of him. He knows that it takes a lot to make you this upset and he’s ready to listen for as long as you need him to, “wanna talk about it?”
You sniffle, rubbing the tears away aggressively as you mumble, “God, I feel so pathetic right now.” There was nothing pathetic about being sad, everyone has bad days and it’s normal to cry every once in a while, but you couldn’t help but feel silly. “It’s okay to cry,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek.
“There’s people with real problems in this world, though… I just feel so stupid for letting today drain me,” you whisper, rolling over so you’re facing Johnnie. He takes in your appearance; your eyes are bloodshot, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. Your eyelashes are so wet they’re webbed together, each blink leaving a trail of tears on your cheeks. Johnnie gingerly wipes the tears away, placing a quick kiss on your nose.
“Just tell me about your day, it’ll make you feel better,” he replies, chuckling a little at your attempt to deter your feelings and defer the conversation. You inhale deeply, slowly nodding your head as you prepare to verbally relive the horrible day you had. You retell the day’s events, including every single detail from your trip to the dentist to your encounter with the angry McDonald’s manager. “What a bitch,” Johnnie grumbles, shaking his head.
You immediately feel better, but still not well enough to emerge from your dark cave to hangout with your friends. “Feel better?” Johnnie asks, a genuine smile playing on his face. You smile back for the first time since you woke up today, “a little.”
“Good,” he places a kiss on your lips, allowing your lips to mould together. The impromptu make-out session is sweet and innocent, serving as a reminder that Johnnie is always here to comfort you through the hard times and that you’re allowed to have a bad day or two.
“Can we just stay here for a little bit?” you ask, cuddling into Johnnie’s chest and letting his heartbeat begin to lull you to sleep. He hums in response, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You fall asleep, feeling like the bad day you had no longer mattered.
MASTERLIST
a/n:
hope this comforting, fluffy Johnnie fic warms everyone’s hearts
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 🎀✨
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youremyheaven · 7 months ago
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Venusians: The Cult of Exclusivity
In my research, I have stumbled upon Venusians either being drawn into cults or being cult leaders. It did not surprise me particularly. All Venusian nakshatras (Bharani, Purvaphalguni, Purvashada) are ugra nakshatras known for being "violent". Venus is in itself, a harsh planet. In fact, all the benefic planets (Jupiter, Venus, Mercury & Moon- in that order) are harsh and for good reason; its natives have to be "purified" by the working of those planetary energies to earn its blessings. Venus values exclusivity and separatism. There is a reason why Venus attracts Venus. It is a kind of elitism. We talk about how rare beauty and glamour is these days and we fawn over the nonchalance and effortless cool of low key & mysterious celebrities. If someone or something is plastered everywhere, it loses its "special" feeling, Venus does not mingle with the masses, Venus sets the standard, its THE blue print but it does not involve itself with anything directly, they like to sit back and watch others ape them.
All 3 Venus nakshatras have yoni animals that point to a highly sexual nature and high libido. Bharani with its elephant yoni signals an immense sexual appetite (elephant being the largest land animal and yoni animal), Purvaphalguni and its rat yoni points to freaky deaky sexual behaviour and Purvashada and monkey yoni ,,, well,, monkeys are known for their lovemaking and how human like it is so..
Sex is a big focus of all 3 Venus nakshatras, with Bharani's themes of birth and death and its symbol literally being the yoni, Purvaphalguni representing the pleasures of the bed and being symbolised by the front legs of the cot and Purvashada with its connection to water, where life originated. Venus is more than just beauty and beauty itself is more profound than "looking good". Venus is beauty, romance, love, creativity, harmony, values etc.
I have talked about Venusian men and their tendency to be drawn to violence before. If we think of sex, it is a kind of violent act in itself, there has to be a back and forth of domination and submission. If we look at animals, male animals often kill other males to eliminate competition and establish themselves as the alpha that the females pick but even in coitus with female animals (literally watch any nature documentary) the male takes on a very aggressive, dominant approach and they often look like theyre trying to kill each other (people say things like "making love like animals" for a reason, sexual courtesy is a humane, civilised approach but animals are not wired that way). In Venusian men, this kind of aggressive erotic sexual persona is very apparent and Claire said these men embody "big dick energy".
Occult knowledge is gatekept and one literally cannot access it until one is initiated into it. Regardless of whether or not we recognise it as such, there are cults of knowledge all around us and we do not even know of their existence unless we've made it past their barrier and can access it. even explaining things defeats the purpose because only someone who's ready to understand it will be able to. Its nature's way of shielding itself from the unwise or the unworthy. you can be surrounded by this knowledge and still not be able to tap into it, if you do not have the discernment. this is a kind of Venusian exclusivity.
If you think about it beauty is pain. These days we see people literally endure pain to be beautiful via cosmetic procedures but this has always been the case, victorian women used arsenic to keep their skin pale and glowy and ammonia in their hair. footbinding was a common custom for Chinese women. but even beyond enduring pain to be beautiful, if you're beautiful you will have to endure pain, be it in the way others hurt you and ostracize you out of jealousy or in how people just assume crazy shit about you. Venusian women NEED to remain lowkey bc they're more susceptible to evil eye.
(im thinking of the song pretty hurts by purvaphalguni sun beyonce 👀)
anywaaayys (me going on a random tangent exhibit 62772). we know that Venusians value and need exclusivity, they're the most clique-y in some ways and this is what makes them drawn to cults lol. A cult is as exclusive as it gets. nothing screams "im not like the others" than being a part of a cult lol
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Osho- Purvashada Stellium (moon, mercury and venus)
Osho was an Indian spiritual guru and mystic. His commune and the crazy shit that went on there was the subject of the docu-series Wild Wild Country.
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Sadhguru- Purvaphalguni Sun
he is an indian guru. i think its interesting how cults have to have a physical existence by way of a commune that people gather in or live in, its not just conceptual if ykwim. i think this is another manifestation of Venusian exclusivity. entering into a cult means entering and inhabiting a different world. Osho had Rajneeshpuram, Sadhguru has his Isha Centre.
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Sun Myung Moon- Bharani Moon
He was the leader of the Unification Church, a famous South Korean cult and he claimed to be the Messiah
Moon was intent on replacing worldwide forms of Christianity with his new unified vision of it, Moon being a self-declared messiah. Moon's followers regard him as a separate person from Jesus but with a mission to basically continue and complete Jesus's work in a new way, according to the Principle.
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Nirmala Srivastava- Bharani Moon conjunct Mars
aka Mataji Nirmala Devi, she was the founder of the religion called Sahaja Yoga. She claimed that she was a divine incarnation, more precisely an incarnation of the Holy Spirit, or the Adi Shakti of the Hindu tradition, the great mother goddess who had come to save humanity. This is also how she is regarded by most of her devotees. she has said that she was born "self realised" and spent her life "helping" others do the same
The Venusian urge to start a new religion 😤😤😤lol
Religion is exclusive and if you do not have the discipline to endure its rules, you cannot gain access to its blessings. Religion esp eastern religion is extremely Venusian af, there are wonderful blessings for those who devote themselves to it and cruel sickening punishments for those who disobey. thats as Venusian as it gets
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Anandamayi Ma- Bharani Sun, exalted Venus in Revati as her atmakaraka
She was an Indian saint, teacher, and mystic. She was revered as an incarnation of Hindu goddess Durga.
Her life was suffused in Bhakti Yoga and she was considered an epitome of "divine grace" that inspired the societal cultural milieu to lead the path of service, love and constant remembrance of the divine. Her followers experienced her spiritual attributes including precognition, faith healing and miracles. Paramahansa Yogananda translates the Sanskrit epithet Anandamayi as "Joy-permeated" in English. This name was given to her by her devotees in the 1920s to describe her perpetual state of divine joy.
she wasn't a cult leader or anything, just a guru even though she rejected even that label (spiritual gurus are a dime a dozen in india, no one who's actually worth their salt will label themselves as a guru)
i think Venus' connection to religion, cults and the occult is underexplored af. the highest form of love is devotion and religion/cults demand it of their followers making it a very Venusian experience. sex, love and religion are all closely connected, people experience trance like states when they're orgasmic or during periods of intense meditation (it can also be artificially induced via drugs etc but euphoria is naturally experienced through either prayer or sex) if you look at paintings of Hindu gods and goddesses, their eyes always seem so blissed out? same goes for truly spiritual people, you can immediately sense the tranquillity of their energy and the dreaminess of their gaze, like they're not of this world.
even the word "Ananda" which means joyous, etymologically means "without end" (Ah- meaning "without in Sanskrit and nand- meaning end) so the goal of any spiritual pursuit is self realization/actualisation and a person who achieves that seems joyous all the time. Many spiritual gurus have Ananda as part of their name as well.
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Swami Vivekananda- Purvashada Rising
He was a monk, philosopher and religious teacher who is widely credited with introducing Hinduism to the West.
“All love is expansion, all selfishness is contraction. Love is therefore the only law of life. He who loves lives, he who is selfish is dying. Therefore love for love's sake, because it is the only law of life, just as you breathe to live."- Swami Vivekananda
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Paramhansa Yogananda- Purvashada Sun
Paramahansa Yogananda was an Indian-American Hindu monk, yogi and guru who introduced millions to meditation and Kriya Yoga through his organization, Self-Realization Fellowship / Yogoda Satsanga Society of India.
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Mother Theresa- Bharani Moon & Saturn, Mars in Purvaphalguni
Mother Theresa was an Albanian nun who came to India and helped the poor and the needy. She established charitable settlements that have come under fire for mismanagement and misappropriation of funds.
Now I'll talk about some people who've gained a cult-like following or were revered in their time and considered akin to God.
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Eva Peron- Bharani Sun
Known by her nickname Evita, she was an Argentine politician, activist, actress, and philanthropist who served as First Lady of Argentina from June 1946 until her death in July 1952. She was revered by the lower economic classes and helped enact a number of reforms and policies to their benefit. She also helped bring about the passage of Argentina's women's suffrage law. even decades after her passing, the grip she has on people in Argentina is crazyyy.
fun fact: Madonna, Purvaphalguni Moon & Rising played Evita in the movie of the same name in 1996.
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Tito- Bharani Sun
Josip Broz, commonly known as Tito, was a Yugoslav communist revolutionary and politician who served in various positions of national leadership from 1943 until his death in 1980
He was a popular public figure both in Yugoslavia and abroad. He remains a popular leader in the former countries of Yugoslavia. Tito was viewed as a unifying symbol, with his internal policies maintaining the peaceful coexistence of the nations of the Yugoslav federation. his legacy lives on and he was a VVV popular
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Rasputin- Bharani Moon
He was a quack with no actual powers but man did he have a following
Rasputin was a Russian mystic and holy man. He is best known for having befriended the imperial family of Nicholas II, the last Emperor of Russia, through whom he gained considerable influence in the final years of the Russian Empire
Historians often suggest that Rasputin's scandalous and sinister reputation helped discredit the Tsarist government, thus precipitating the overthrow of the House of Romanov shortly after his assassination.
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Taylor Swift- Purvashada Rising
Taylor's chokehold over her fandom is insane. I think it's due to her PA Rising bc wheww
There is a reason why Venusian influence is sooo common in the charts of it girls and icons. Venus is THE blue print, it makes others want to be like you and imitate you and also claim they hate you or dont know you all in the same breath.
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Trisha Paytas-Bharani Sun & Jupiter, Ketu in Purvaphalguni
Trisha has a cult like following whether u want to admit it or not. Girlie has been doing this for a decade and a half and is still somehow relevant?? literally most of her contemporaries have been cancelled or left the platform and she's still standing?? despite a gazillion controversies that too lol
Now I'll mention some famous celebrities who are in/have been in cults
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John Travolta- Purvaphalguni Moon
He was/is a Scientologist
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Park Bogum- Bharani Moon & Venus
Bogum is part of Jesus Centred Church which is a cult and he was apparently even given his name by the founder/leader of the cult. There have been rumours that Bogum left the controversial church/cult and joined a normal church but there isnt enough info to confirm this
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Nazanin Boniadi- Purvaphalguni Moon
She is a former Scientologist who was "trained" to be Tom Cruise's gf before he met Katie Holmes. read about the crazy and torturous stuff she was subjected to and you'll wonder why tf scientology hasn't been shut down by the government yet
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Ruslana Korushnova- Purvaphalguni Moon
She was found dead at 20yrs old under mysterious circumstances. i do not think she committed suicide at all but she spent some time at the Rose of the World which is a culty organisation.
British TV producer and filmmaker Peter Pomerantsev has theorised that Korshunova's suicide was related to her involvement with Rose of the World, a controversial Moscow-based organisation which describes itself as "training for personality development". While researching for a documentary into Korshunova's death, Pomerantsev learned that the model spent three months attending training sessions at Rose of the World. These sessions—which encourage participants to share their worst experiences and recall repressed memories—are modelled after Lifespring, whose controversial methods were the subject of multiple lawsuits for mental damages in the US during the 1980s. Korshunova attended training sessions with a friend, Ukrainian model Anastasia Drozdova, who committed suicide under similar circumstances in 2009. Friends of the two women reported changes in behaviour after several months at the Rose. Korshunova became aggressive, while Drozdova experienced violent mood swings and grew reclusive; both lost weight. After three months of training, Korshunova returned to New York to look for work, where she wrote of feeling lost and doubting herself. Rick Alan Ross, head of the Cult Education Forum, argues that organisations such as Rose of the World "work like drugs: giving you peak experiences, their adherents always coming back for more. The serious problems start when people leave. The trainings have become their lives—they come back to emptiness. The sensitive ones break." Only months after leaving the Rose, Korshunova was found dead.
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Michelle Pfeiffer- Bharani Sun, Purvaphalguni Moon, Rohini Rising
She was involved with Breatharianism, a cult that believes that you don’t need to eat food (Say what?!). She joined after moving to Los Angeles and looking for a group to feel comfortable with. They focused on diet and exercise but believed that people could live by sunlight alone at the highest level of the cult. She actually realized that she was in a cult after helping her first husband Peter Horton prepare for a movie role where he played a cult member. She said, “We were talking with an ex-Moonie, and he was describing the psychological manipulation and I just clicked.” (crazy to me that the not eating real food did not click??)
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Rose McGowan- Purvaphalguni Sun & Mercury, Mars in Bharani
She spent her childhood in the Children of God cult and her family fled from its clutches after they started advocating for adult-child sexual intercourse🤮🤮🤮
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Sharon Tate- Purvaphalguni Moon
Sharon wasn't a member of a cult but a victim of one :((((
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Sofia Hayat- Purvaphalguni Moon
Sofia was a model, then she quit the industry to be a nun, now she calls herself a shaman and a healer and posts weirdly sexual vids on IG
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Zaira Wasim- Purvaphalguni Moon
she quit acting to devote herself to religion and because she felt that being in Bollywood made her lose touch with her faith.
This is a very Venusian experience imo and one of the reasons why Venus thrives in keeping itself hidden or taking away other people's access to it is because otherwise Venusians feel contaminated almost?? other project onto them heavily and they feel clouded by it, unsure of their own identities. they feel like they're losing touch with themselves. many Venusian celebs are known for frequently changing their persona (Bella Hadid, Ariana Grande etc come to mind) the more time they spend exposing themselves to others, the more confused they become about who they are, they lack a stable self image.
Religion and faith can act as stabilisers and help these natives feel more grounded.
A reason why Venusians (idk if you noticed by most of the gurus were Purvashadas and most of the followers I mentioned were Purvaphalgunis, with an equal mix of Bharani natives in both) are drawn into cults is also because Venusians can only thrive in Venusian environments?? Otherwise they feel desolate and lost, a lot of people join cults because they don't feel understood or connected to people in their normal life. cults look for people who need help, and give it to them on predatory conditions.
Purvashadas are often spiritual leaders/gurus but seldom blindly devoted followers because being the final Venus nak, it transcends this toxic grip of Venus. Purvaphalguni is the height of Venus and these natives are constantly seeking spiritual truth and belonging but never quite ascending, as it is Venus at its most indulgent. Bharani is the first Venusian nak and I have found that the first nak of any planetary dominance is in some ways its "softest" manifestation, its the baby among the naks. The nak in the middle is the peak/height of that planetary energy and thus, the most cruel or harsh manifestation of that energy along with the concluding nak but the concluding nak also kind of transcends its influence??
high fashion/luxury etc is also very Venusian bc theyre the ones who covet having things others dont have. anywayyys this is just a stray thought lol
hope this was informative!!
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fatliberation · 19 days ago
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Action Item: Tell Southwest to prioritize accessibility for all bodies
A message from NAAFA:
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For years, fat people have utilized and celebrated Southwest Airlines for having the most equitable seating policy of any major airline. Last summer, they announced that they’ll be shifting to assigned seating. At their most recent shareholders meeting, they announced more details about their plans to change their planes and their boarding procedures. But they still made no mention at all of how these changes will impact their Customer of Size policy.
The Customer of Size policy at Southwest hinges on people being able to choose their own seats. Without information about how changes will specifically impact those who need an additional seat, we cannot rest assured that the policy will continue to work. We are also concerned that reconfiguring planes for premium (more expensive) seating with extra legroom will eliminate affordable seating in the front rows, which can be essential to accessibility for larger fat flyers and some disabled passengers.
Southwest needs to commit to working with advocates from fat community and disabled community to ensure that we remain welcome and accommodated on their planes. 
We have tried to make Southwest executives aware of our need for clarity and information through social media, petitions and media outreach. We will continue to put pressure on Southwest and request a meeting with executives in hopes that they will eventually address this issue and continue with a best in the industry passenger of size policy as they roll out their assigned seating program next year.
Join us in urging Southwest to make a public commitment to keep flying accessible for Customers of Size and for disabled passengers. Sign the petition today!
Extra links:
Learn more about #FlyingWhileFat
Fat travel resources
Campaign for Size Freedom
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payblogs · 2 months ago
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DARK SMS - DRAGON+ (2)
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Among the various options available, using a virtual phone number for SMS has gained popularity. These virtual numbers allow users to send and receive messages without the need for a physical SIM card, offering flexibility and privacy. Moreover, they are particularly beneficial for verification SMS when creating accounts on online platforms, as they help protect personal phone numbers from potential spam and unwanted contacts.
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Virtual SMS Number
A virtual SMS number serves as an essential tool for individuals and businesses that require a reliable means of sending and receiving text messages without the need for a physical SIM card. These numbers are increasingly popular due to their numerous advantages, especially in a world where communication happens rapidly and often through digital mediums.
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