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#client-centred
phumelelanene · 1 year
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treatment can only be understood backward, but can only be practiced forward
By definition client centred means, individual autonomy and choice, partnership, therapist and client responsibility, enablement, contextual congruence, accessibility, and respect for diversity are discussed. Now I keep things simple, I define it as the client being at the centre of the intervention, after all we are OCCUPATION therapists. Intervention can only be therapeutic for the client if you priorities them.
You learn more from listening than speaking. This was my basis for planning for intervention, listening to the client and figuring how to meet their needs and wants as realistic as possible. With the client I had, we just had conversations, remove the assessment forms, remove structure even if you have to, do anything to understand the client holistically. My client had intellectual insight which allowed him to make or have realistic expectations. My job is to make sure that those expectations are carried throughout intervention. This is my first client in treatment and I’m looking forward to other types of clients as I will not always get this type of client, but the rule of thumb is always intervene with understanding.
My sessions with my client were more fixated on basic activities of daily living as were trying to improve independence and some client factors first. The client had already had compensatory techniques they learnt themselves, example brush their teeth using both their hands. Improving dressing was one of the first activities we wanted to tackle.
Doing the activity on paper is very different from practical as so many factors can change at any given point during the activity. The biggest thing I noticed in my planning was that I was not prepared enough, I was there to carry out the session on paper and not intervene therapeutically.
My supervisor was concerned about my principles of treatment. She felt as if I was not pushing my client enough and I could see that she was right as my client flew through the activities with ease and considering his stage of recovery.
 We can never leap before looking as OTs. So it is essential as we are client-centred to understand the client holistically for optimum therapeutic intervention.
https://youtu.be/HD6PdW5vHkQ - An Occupational Therapist's Role in Person-Centered Design | Rebecca Langbein | TEDxJeffersonU
Law M, Baptiste S, Mills J. Client-centred practice: what does it mean and does it make a difference? Can J Occup Ther. 1995 Dec;62(5):250-7. doi: 10.1177/000841749506200504. PMID: 10152881.
Hammell K. R. (2013). Client-centred practice in occupational therapy: critical reflections. Scandinavian journal of occupational therapy, 20(3), 174–181. https://doi.org/10.3109/11038128.2012.752032
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thedreadvampy · 1 year
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I legit hate it here on TERF Island you cannot open any newspaper or news site for any reason without hitting an article about the Trans Menace. literally any to the opinion page of the local paper to pick up a link for a column my boss wrote about rising rough sleeping in the city and top line, top of the page, "Sturgeon is using gender bill to fuel culture war."
also on that in particular. take the L my guys. you couldn't even fucking muster a full gallery of transphobes. literally every time there's a transphobic protest they're massively outnumbered by counterprotesters. over and over again, attempts to leverage transphobia for populist electoral gain fail. THE GENERAL PUBLIC DO NOT AGREE WITH YOU.
like Scottish transphobes are addicted to this narrative that trans rights are being undemocratically pushed forward by the government as part of a conspiracy to impose transness on an unwilling nation or something. but open transphobia is not, all told, correlating with a massive upswing in broad public support. the current government were p clear on being in favour of trans healthcare and rights reforms at the last election, and Alba and the Family Party ran almost entirely on a platform of transphobia and what did that get them? let me just check ohhhh it's 0 seats in Scottish parliament and 2 in Westminster, both of whom were voted in as SNP MPs.
The Scottish people are not being silenced or overridden. They're Just Not That Into You. because your behaviour is fucking unhinged and your beliefs are hateful and abhorrent to even people who don't really Get The Whole Trans Thing. and in a time when the cost of living is increasing exponentially, homelessness and hunger have been on a constant rise for years, and the UK government are serving their own interests while cracking down on protest, your top priority as "feminists" is trying to shut down rape crisis centres and women's aid organisations for not being transphobic enough.
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humandisastersquad · 1 year
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fjfkdg just went to my physio and she said she looks forward to my visits bc I always talk about the latest covid research and it makes her feel validated against all the covid denial and minimisation
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turnaboutchaos · 2 years
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my mother needs to play ace attorney i need her to play it
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ajaegerpilot · 2 years
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it is wild to me because looking at youtube therapists there are just so many of them where its like. i have to ignore 50% of what you say because you're fundamentally wrong and your vibes are off but you need to believe it because this is how you personally live your life. like many of them approach therapizing and giving advice with an air of expertise when it's like ... no this is literally just what works for you.
the therapists that have a style that I really vibe with are ones who constantly mention that this is just what works for them and what they prefer, not the ones that say 'this has helped my clients'. because the doctor who became obsessed with ivermectin also believes that ivermectin helps his clients, despite the robust studies that prove that ivermectin has no positive effect.
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sreenandhu · 2 days
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Wellness Centre Opens New Doors for Health and Relaxation in Chennai
In the bustling city of Chennai, a new sanctuary for health and relaxation has emerged, promising a holistic approach to well-being. This center is designed to cater to the diverse wellness needs of Chennai’s residents and visitors, providing an array of services that promote physical, mental, and emotional health.
State-of-the-Art Facilities and Services
The Serenity Wellness Centre in Chennai is equipped with state-of-the-art facilities that cater to a variety of wellness practices. From traditional therapies to modern health techniques, the center offers a comprehensive range of services. These include Ayurvedic treatments, physiotherapy, yoga and meditation sessions, and nutritional counseling. Each service is tailored to meet the specific needs of clients, ensuring a personalized experience that promotes optimal health.
Experienced and Professional Staff
A key highlight of the Serenity Wellness Centre is its team of experienced and professional staff. The center prides itself on having highly qualified practitioners, including certified yoga instructors, licensed physiotherapists, and experienced Ayurvedic doctors. Their expertise ensures that clients receive the highest standard of care, whether they are recovering from an injury, seeking stress relief, or pursuing general wellness.
Holistic Approach to Wellness
The philosophy of the Serenity Wellness Centre is rooted in a holistic approach to health. Recognizing that true wellness encompasses more than just physical health, the center offers programs that also address mental and emotional well-being. Mindfulness meditation, stress management workshops, and life coaching sessions are some of the services designed to help individuals achieve a balanced and fulfilling life.
A Community Hub for Health and Well-being
Beyond individual treatments, the Serenity Wellness Centre aims to be a community hub for health and well-being. Regular workshops, wellness retreats, and community events are organized to engage the local community and foster a culture of wellness. These events are not only educational but also provide a platform for individuals to connect, share experiences, and support each other on their wellness journeys.
Commitment to Sustainability
In line with its holistic approach, the Serenity Wellness Centre is committed to sustainability and eco-friendly practices. The center is designed with green architecture, incorporating natural light, energy-efficient systems, and environmentally friendly materials. This commitment extends to the services offered, with an emphasis on natural and organic products used in treatments.
Client Testimonials
Clients of the Serenity Wellness Centre have expressed high satisfaction with the services provided. Many have praised the serene environment, the professionalism of the staff, and the positive impact on their health. Testimonials highlight the center as a transformative space where individuals can rejuvenate and reconnect with themselves.
Conclusion
The opening of the Serenity Wellness Centre marks a significant addition to Chennai’s wellness landscape. By offering a comprehensive and holistic approach to health, the center provides an invaluable resource for individuals seeking to enhance their well-being. With its state-of-the-art facilities, professional staff, and commitment to sustainability, the Serenity Wellness Centre is set to become a cornerstone of wellness in Chennai.
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vensconcept · 3 months
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Innovation en Gestion de Projet et Service Client : Le Service d'Appel et de Régulation
Le Centre Opérationnel des Entreprises a lancé un service d'appel et de régulation révolutionnaire, transformant radicalement la manière dont les projets et les services clients sont gérés dans les entreprises. Ce service apporte des améliorations significatives dans plusieurs domaines clés.
Nous souhaitons préciser que chaque entreprise est indépendante et n’a pas accès aux informations des autres entreprises adhérentes.
Un Numéro Unique pour une Gestion Simplifiée
Notre système offre un point de contact unique pour tous les besoins des clients libérant ainsi la charge téléphonique des dirigeants ou managers de la société.
Plutôt que de jongler entre différents numéros pour divers services, les clients bénéficient d'un accès direct et simplifié a toutes les entreprises adhérentes qui ont un haut niveau de service client, améliorant la communication et réduisant les délais de réponse.
Suivi Client Complet et Personnalisé
Du premier appel à la finalisation du projet, nous assurons un suivi complet de l’expérience client.
Ce suivi se distingue par son caractère humain et personnalisé, garantissant que chaque client se sente écouté, compris et soutenu tout au long de son projet. Nos fiches clients sont mise à jours en temps réel, donnant un suivi clair à toute la chaine hiérarchique des entreprises.
Priorité à la Sécurité des Salariés
La fonctionnalité de localisation rapide en cas d'urgence est une avancée majeure pour la sécurité des salariés.
En cas d'agression, d'accident ou de toute autre urgence, notre système permet de localiser immédiatement le salarié concerné et d'orchestrer une intervention rapide des secours, assurant ainsi une protection optimale.
Parce que la vie professionnelle est imprévisible, nous sommes là pour vous épauler et gérer avec vous les difficultés du quotidien.
Optimisation des Ressources et de la Logistique
Ce service joue un rôle clé dans l'optimisation des ressources. En analysant les plannings, les disponibilités et les ressources matérielles, nous pouvons planifier les opérations de manière plus efficace, réduisant les coûts et améliorant la productivité.
L'optimisation des déplacements et des trajets permet également de réduire l'empreinte carbone, contribuant ainsi à des pratiques commerciales plus durables.
Un Système Centralisé et Connecté
En connectant ce service aux autres départements et services de l'entreprise, nous créons un réseau de gestion intégrée.
Cette approche centralisée permet une meilleure coordination entre les différents services, améliorant ainsi l'efficacité globale de la gestion des projets.
Conclusion
Le service d'appel et de régulation du Centre Opérationnel des Entreprises représente une avancée majeure dans la gestion des sociétés. En offrant un point de contact unique, un suivi client personnalisé, une sécurité accrue pour les salariés, une optimisation des ressources et une intégration des services, ce système est un élément clé pour assurer une gestion d'entreprise efficace, sécurisée et durable.
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newsbites · 1 year
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NANAIMO — A lease agreement has been secured by a social service provider left without a kitchen and dining hall while a portion of its downtown location is redeveloped.
Salvation Army New Hope Centre executive director Jeffrey Baergen said the old White Spot restaurant at 130 Terminal Ave. will be used to cook food for their clients and other vulnerable community members.
He expected they’ll be in the new location by the end of the week, emphasizing it won’t be used to provide services directly and will be closed to the public.
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retro-system · 1 year
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i can say anything i want to to the computer
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d4rkpluto · 24 days
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ᴘɪꜱᴄᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ
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DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. IS A FAME POST.
PROPERTY OF D4RKPLUTO.
READ THE MAJESTIC VIRGO, well if you want.
PAID CHART READINGS, whoever is my 125 client gets everything cheaper than usual.
this knowledge has come from doing over 100+ chart readings, this is not pulled out of my ass..
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♇ this post centres around pisces, neptune and the twelfth house, and how it is an underrated home of fame.
♇ neptune rules over cameras, glamour, paparazzi, stalking, projection and film, all strong themes of the realer side of fame, specifically paparazzi, stalking and projection.
♇ [in my opinion, i think the 12H, Neptune and Pisces are the most alike compared to the other signs and their rulers.]
♇ on the other hand, ten houses from the 3H is the 12H, 10 in astrology ruling over fame, career and publicity and the 3H governs over magazine and marketing, things celebrities have to be involved in to attain fame.
♇ to understand this post, we need to get into the symbolism of pisces, and hold on tight for this for you to understand! as pisces does represent neptune/poseidon, the sign pisces also represents is Jesus. the most known man, the most known person specifically.
♇ and even though social media does joke about it now and then, he is the most known "nepotism" kid. people with pisces placements especially in their big three or those who have jupiter in pisces are known for something specific, because Pisces gives it a boost because of the connection it has with Jupiter. [in traditional astrology, Jupiter ruled over Pisces], and Jupiter is supposed to symbolise God. and in shorter terms, it gives the nepotism boost to Pisces.
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♇ before i go deeper, i am going to use examples of celebrities, their twelfth house and how fame was for them and how it impacted them.
CELEBRITIES WITH PISCES IN THEIR BIG THREE OR JUPITER. [can work with the rest of the big six, but im focusing on the big three].
⟶ examples
PISCES ASCENDANTS ⬎
MICHAEL JACKON.
WHITNEY HOUSTON
ELLEN.
PISCES SUNS ⬎
RIHANNA.
CINDY CRAWFORD.
GRIMES.
PISCES MOONS ⬎
MICHELLE OBAMA.
MARTIN LUTHER KING.
KIM KARDASHIAN.
PISCES JUPITER ⬎
MEGAN FOX.
AMBER HEARD.
LINDSAY LOHAN.
SHORT EXAMPLES OF THE 12H AND ITS IMPACT WITH SOMEONE'S FAME ⬎
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MARILYN MONROE
had cancer in the 12H, cancer is moon ruled and the moon rules over audience, and its clear that marilyn monroe had a big audience, like the moon, she was worshiped, and due to hollywood, she represented what a woman, "should be".
marilyn also had pluto in the twelfth house, and this points to her being exploited, sexualised and abused in the industry.
her twelfth house ruler is in the seventh house which conjuncts the moon, and she had a known relationship, [jupiter conjunct moon], this insinuates her known relationship was with a man in power, the moon symbolises country and jupiter can symbolise politics and leader-ship, and she had a known affair with JF Kennedy.
BEYONCE
had virgo in her twelfth house, and people always have continuous critique with her, this can also imply she has much critique for herself, but with her twelfth house having the planet jupiter, it helps her having a giant and loyal fanbase.
beyonce also has saturn in the 12h, and this implies of longevity in fame, saturn doesnt always mean something is going to be cut short! on the other hand, her 12H ruler being in the 12H can point to the distant energy she has with her, she could have fun with her fans but there is still an out of reach essence she has to herself.
the 12H ruler being in the 12H can also indicate to why people might've picked up that she might be doing drugs. this could also insinuate another way of how people are nit-picky when it comes to beyonce.
on the other hand, her 12H ruler being in the 12H shows she only shows a part of herself she wants people to see.
MICHAEL JACKSON
aquarius in the twelfth house, and was known to be erratic and unique, he also used his platform to spread awareness.
his 12H ruler being in Leo points to his excessive amount of fame, the uranus being in leo implies on how he was known everyone where in the world. his uranus in the 13°, a degree which means the first to do something; which conjuncts venus the planet of dancing insinuates of his creation of the moonwalk.
his uranus is also in the sign of children, and had many controversies surrounding kids. [along with people thinking his children arent his].
with his 12H ruler being in Leo, the house of cameras and glamours, points to how he is one of the most photographed people on earth.
ARIANA GRANDE
sagittarius in the 12H, known for her adaptability in different cultures, the jupiter influence gives her a very big fanbase.
12H ruler in libra and is known for her romantic controversies, with her Jupiter having. the 5° which shows they're known in the industry they're specifically in. her jupiter also conj moon in the 6th degree, and people critique her love life and it is always in the public, the moon ruling audience.
12H sagittarius in the 2 degrees, and is known for her aesthetic.
RIHANNA
12H in pisces and is known for her glamour, beauty and fashion.
venus is in the 12H and she is a muse for many people.
juno in the 12H and she was paired with many people, so many people expecting who and what to be her husband, though everyone was aware with who her soulmate was. asap rocky.
12H ruler in capricorn and is known for being a capitalist, rich and business oriented.
another 12H ruler in aries, and has a known controversy with the abuse she had suffered through by chris brown.
12H ruler in aries conj uranus and was known for her fierceness and come backs.
MEGAN THEE STALLION
12H aries and is known for her "sexiness" and rapping. her 12H ruler is in Leo and is known for her sexual dancing, specifically twerking, and her body shape is usually spoken about
her 12H ruler is mars and went through a scandal that involved violence, and with the 12H ruler being in the 21st degree, it entails of her being known for being a stallion, along with her jupiter in sagittarius.
neptune in the 24th degree and a lot of people think she is a liar, and i noticed a lot of people who have their 12H ruler conjunct the moon do get famous.
KRISTINA PIMENOVA
taurus in her 12H and was known for her beauty, she also has mars in her 12H and was really pushed into the industry.
12H ruler in the 1st degree and was pushed as the most beautiful girl. her neptune is in the 10H and a a lot of people wanted to be her because of her status and looks.
12H in a young sign could imply getting into the industry at a young age. she also has mars in taurus in the 12H and is also known for dancing.
MADISON BEER
12H in aries and is known for her sexiness. and her 12H ruler is in scorpio and she had plenty of controversies.
saturn in the 12H it took time for people to appreciate her music. her saturn is also in taurus.
11H in pisces in aqua 3rd degree, and had much people make rumours about her.
12H ruler in mars the 11th degree and had revenge porn against her, or you can say just had people expose her nudes.
pisces in the 11H and many people on the internet project their insecurities onto her.
DRAKE
leo in 12H and he is known for his ego, his 12h ruler conj pluto and a lot of people talk about his sexuality.
neptune in capricorn got into more fame due to a popular company, yung money. he has a pisces jupiter and is known for his multiple times to have a wife, he has proposed many times he was able to make a necklace out of them.
12th degree on his moon and is known as an incel. he has his neptune in the 3rd degree and a lot of people make fun of him.
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12H PLACEMENTS ⬎
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 12H - known for music, could get a lot of stalkers, people might have a perception of who you are supposed to be and could be known for taking a specific drug, like weed; ex, rihanna.
ARIES/MARS IN THE 12H - known for their sexuality, could be bullied on social media, might get access to fame easily, but could be objectified; ex, madison beer.
TAURUS/VENUS IN THE 12H - known for your beauty, might feel like people might not take you seriously, people could be shallow towards you, you could have a less intense celebrity life; ex, kristina pimenova.
GEMINI/MERCURY IN THE 12H - could be known for your adaptability, many people might want to mimic you, could be photographed a lot and known for your style; ex, cher.
CANCER/MOON IN THE 12H - could hide their true identity to the world, is the face for something, likes privacy but are never given it; ex, marilyn monroe.
LEO/SUN IN THE 12H - easily stand out, seen as a trendsetter, are known for their beauty, people might compare themselves to you all the time; ex, bella hadid.
VIRGO/CERES IN THE 12H - people will be critical of you, nosy about your life, though you would be a big muse and inspiration for the people, majority of 12H dont like attention or responsibility due to the gain of fame; ex, doja cat.
LIBRA/JUNO IN THE 12H - people will really copy your aesthetic, most likely to be posted on social medias like pinterests and tumblr. very photogenic people, untouchable energy, which could be linked to the hera influenced; ex, lily rose.
SCORPIO/PLUTO IN THE 12H - are usually the face for something, stalked by everyone, specifically the paparazzi, could sometimes be harassed by people for not acting how they were expected to behave. have a lot of influence, they do something other people start doing it; ex, jennie kim and princess diana.
SAGITTARIUS/JUPITER IN THE 12H - have very large fan bases, are expected to be role models, have to find a specific way to sustain their popularity, and other people might want to relate to them and get upset if they cant; ex, kylie jenner.
CAPRICORN/SATURN IN THE 12H - fame can either come really quick to people with capricorn or saturn in the 12H or it could take its time. how they handle fame is their karma, could be preyed on by authority, and when they pass, they become legends and known for something specific; ex, aaliyah.
AQUARIUS/URANUS IN THE 12H - known globally, get away with a lot of stuff, known for their visuals plus aesthetic since it is unique, they have a lot of controversies revolving around love, and might feel like they cannot get away from fame; ex, michael jackson.
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YOUR FAME DUE TO WHERE PISCES AND NEPTUNE IS IN YOUR CHART ⬎
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 1H - fame for being beautiful, creative, and would feel distant and would have a lot of people project and fantasise about you; ex, michael jackson a pisces ascendant, and ariana grande who has neptune in the 1H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 2H - fame due to singing, fame for being beautiful of their aesthetic, have ways of always making money and has controversy with lovers; ex, megan fox has pisces in her 2H, and lana del rey who has neptune in her 2H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 3H - known for their creative ideas, good writers, could have a popular relative or is the popular relative, and another musician indicator. could also be known for their philosophy; ex, jeon jungkook has his pisces in his 3H, and beyonce who has her neptune in the 3H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 4H - famous family, controversy with family/marriage, do a project that can set them for life and could be in a famous group; ex, kim kardashian who has pisces in the 4H, and emma watson who has neptune in the 4H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 5H - get very popular because of their looks, usually have kids within their rise to fame, can tap into anything creative and succeed. brilliant actors and actresses have these placements; ex, nicolae kidman who has pisces in the 5H, and angelina jolie who has neptune in the 5H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 6H - amazing producers [music and film], are known for their interaction with drugs or people might have conspiracies with them taking drugs, health issues are put onto blast and usually stand out in a project that has many people and are usually the main character; ex, britney spears who has pisces in the 6H, and kanye west who has neptune in the 6H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 7H - like to please their fans, controversy with marriage, be careful with deals/contracts that you would sign, sometimes other people might think you are distant and you guys are likely to have iconic fashion moments; ex, bella hadid who has pisces in the 7H, and mariah carey who has neptune in the 7H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 8H - usually leave a big legacy, victim/subject to memes, or being made fun of by people in the industry, tough relationship with addiction and have a big fandom which can make them excused a lot; ex, marilyn monroe who has pisces in the 8H, and michael jackson who has neptune in the 8H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 9H - loved due to their charisma, loud and big personalities, partake in business all over the world and are wanted by foreign companies, and have a moment when they're under fire due to the public; ex, angelina jolie who has pisces in the 9H, and rihanna who has neptune in the 9H.
PISCES/NETPUNE IN THE 10H - likely to be models, have contracts with big brands, many people look up to them and have much expectations for them, could also be people who are in political power or are connected to them; ex, victoria beckham who has pisces in the 10H, and princess diana who has neptune in the 10H.
PISCES/NEPTUNE IN THE 11H - are usually easily excused, famous due to a private circle [political power on theories like illuminati], usually say things they are not meant to say, can either be easily liked or hated by the public and this can give online fame, or could get famous because of the internet; ex, miley cyrus who has pisces in the 11H, and billie eilish who has neptune in the 11H.
PISCES/NETPUNE IN THE 12H - people usually want to be them, long-term fame, another model indicator, and can be people who get into relationships with people who are known in the industry; ex, gigi hadid who has pisces in the 12H, and zendaya who has neptune in the 12H.
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elenadvrx · 2 months
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you could feel him seething from where he was sitting behind you in your shared office while you attend to a regular client.
both you and your fiancé, iwaizumi hajime (27), are athletic trainers. you met him while in college and only got together after he graduated and you were in your last year. when the both of you decided to professionally pursue a career in this field, the both of you decided to open and share a centre where you could assess and treat clients.
you have been working together for almost two years and everything was going great. well, as great as it could go with iwaizumi glaring daggers at you and your client while you go on about the session.
your client was a little…well, touchy. he has an on and off issue with his knee after his surgery and sometimes has difficulty walking. during the sessions, he would walk a few steps before accidentally lose his footing and fall against you, stabilising himself with an arm around your waist.
it was fine during the first few times, but he constantly did it during every. single. session. you wish you could just chuck him out but you didn't want to be unprofessional. you also did not want to lose the reputation as your centre was still quite new.
seeing how often he feints his collapses to fall on you, iwaizumi finally had enough of his act and decided to take matters into his own hand. he struts towards the two of you before ripping off the arm that was around you.
“get out.”
"wh-what? hey, you can't just tell me to get out. my session is not over yet!"
"did you hear me stutter? get. out." iwaizumi's face was now inches away from the poor guy.
"get out and never come back. if you do, it'll not just be your knee that's going to be in pain, you hear me?"
the guy’s face suddenly looked white as a sheet. he audibly gulps and went to pack his things before leaving the room in a hurry.
"huh, strange. his knee suddenly seems goddamn fine when he ran off. tsk." your fiance grunted to himself.
sighing dejectedly, you shook your head at iwaizumi. horrified that you most probably lost a client and wondered what would happen because of it, but — ah who cares, the guy was a creep anyways and you did enjoy watching your hunk of a man scare him away.
“why are you shaking your head at me for? if i didn’t know you, i’d think you actually didn’t mind that he was all touchy feely with you.”
going back to his desk, he sits down before crossing his arms and glares at you. he then carries on typing on his keyboard, continuing his work from before. but when you look closely, you could see a subtle pout of his lips.
is he– oh is he actually sulking and pouting at you?
“aww, hajime baby, don’t be pouty–“
“hey i’m not! i’m not p-pouting, you’re just imagining things. i’m not like shittykawa who constantly whines and pouts at the smallest things that upset him–“
you interrupted his rant with a wet kiss to his lips.
“okay baby, i believe you. and i’m sorry i didn’t stop him after the first few times. i will be sure to enforce some boundaries the next time, okay?”
iwaizumi then pulled you onto his lap, tucking your head under his chin. “yeah, you better.” you heard him mumble.
curious, you peek up at him to see him obviously pouting but you decided to spare his manly pride and let him be.
“but you’re still cute when you pout baby,” you remark before you bolted off.
“brat, get back here!”
maybe not. you enjoy teasing him anyways heh.
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The disenshittified internet starts with loyal "user agents"
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I'm in TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (TOMORROW, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).
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There's one overwhelmingly common mistake that people make about enshittification: assuming that the contagion is the result of the Great Forces of History, or that it is the inevitable end-point of any kind of for-profit online world.
In other words, they class enshittification as an ideological phenomenon, rather than as a material phenomenon. Corporate leaders have always felt the impulse to enshittify their offerings, shifting value from end users, business customers and their own workers to their shareholders. The decades of largely enshittification-free online services were not the product of corporate leaders with better ideas or purer hearts. Those years were the result of constraints on the mediocre sociopaths who would trade our wellbeing and happiness for their own, constraints that forced them to act better than they do today, even if the were not any better:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan
Corporate leaders' moments of good leadership didn't come from morals, they came from fear. Fear that a competitor would take away a disgruntled customer or worker. Fear that a regulator would punish the company so severely that all gains from cheating would be wiped out. Fear that a rival technology – alternative clients, tracker blockers, third-party mods and plugins – would emerge that permanently severed the company's relationship with their customers. Fears that key workers in their impossible-to-replace workforce would leave for a job somewhere else rather than participate in the enshittification of the services they worked so hard to build:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/22/kargo-kult-kaptialism/#dont-buy-it
When those constraints melted away – thanks to decades of official tolerance for monopolies, which led to regulatory capture and victory over the tech workforce – the same mediocre sociopaths found themselves able to pursue their most enshittificatory impulses without fear.
The effects of this are all around us. In This Is Your Phone On Feminism, the great Maria Farrell describes how audiences at her lectures profess both love for their smartphones and mistrust for them. Farrell says, "We love our phones, but we do not trust them. And love without trust is the definition of an abusive relationship":
https://conversationalist.org/2019/09/13/feminism-explains-our-toxic-relationships-with-our-smartphones/
I (re)discovered this Farrell quote in a paper by Robin Berjon, who recently co-authored a magnificent paper with Farrell entitled "We Need to Rewild the Internet":
https://www.noemamag.com/we-need-to-rewild-the-internet/
The new Berjon paper is narrower in scope, but still packed with material examples of the way the internet goes wrong and how it can be put right. It's called "The Fiduciary Duties of User Agents":
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3827421
In "Fiduciary Duties," Berjon focuses on the technical term "user agent," which is how web browsers are described in formal standards documents. This notion of a "user agent" is a holdover from a more civilized age, when technologists tried to figure out how to build a new digital space where technology served users.
A web browser that's a "user agent" is a comforting thought. An agent's job is to serve you and your interests. When you tell it to fetch a web-page, your agent should figure out how to get that page, make sense of the code that's embedded in, and render the page in a way that represents its best guess of how you'd like the page seen.
For example, the user agent might judge that you'd like it to block ads. More than half of all web users have installed ad-blockers, constituting the largest consumer boycott in human history:
https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/
Your user agent might judge that the colors on the page are outside your visual range. Maybe you're colorblind, in which case, the user agent could shift the gamut of the colors away from the colors chosen by the page's creator and into a set that suits you better:
https://dankaminsky.com/dankam/
Or maybe you (like me) have a low-vision disability that makes low-contrast type difficult to impossible to read, and maybe the page's creator is a thoughtless dolt who's chosen light grey-on-white type, or maybe they've fallen prey to the absurd urban legend that not-quite-black type is somehow more legible than actual black type:
https://uxplanet.org/basicdesign-never-use-pure-black-in-typography-36138a3327a6
The user agent is loyal to you. Even when you want something the page's creator didn't consider – even when you want something the page's creator violently objects to – your user agent acts on your behalf and delivers your desires, as best as it can.
Now – as Berjon points out – you might not know exactly what you want. Like, you know that you want the privacy guarantees of TLS (the difference between "http" and "https") but not really understand the internal cryptographic mysteries involved. Your user agent might detect evidence of shenanigans indicating that your session isn't secure, and choose not to show you the web-page you requested.
This is only superficially paradoxical. Yes, you asked your browser for a web-page. Yes, the browser defied your request and declined to show you that page. But you also asked your browser to protect you from security defects, and your browser made a judgment call and decided that security trumped delivery of the page. No paradox needed.
But of course, the person who designed your user agent/browser can't anticipate all the ways this contradiction might arise. Like, maybe you're trying to access your own website, and you know that the security problem the browser has detected is the result of your own forgetful failure to renew your site's cryptographic certificate. At that point, you can tell your browser, "Thanks for having my back, pal, but actually this time it's fine. Stand down and show me that webpage."
That's your user agent serving you, too.
User agents can be well-designed or they can be poorly made. The fact that a user agent is designed to act in accord with your desires doesn't mean that it always will. A software agent, like a human agent, is not infallible.
However – and this is the key – if a user agent thwarts your desire due to a fault, that is fundamentally different from a user agent that thwarts your desires because it is designed to serve the interests of someone else, even when that is detrimental to your own interests.
A "faithless" user agent is utterly different from a "clumsy" user agent, and faithless user agents have become the norm. Indeed, as crude early internet clients progressed in sophistication, they grew increasingly treacherous. Most non-browser tools are designed for treachery.
A smart speaker or voice assistant routes all your requests through its manufacturer's servers and uses this to build a nonconsensual surveillance dossier on you. Smart speakers and voice assistants even secretly record your speech and route it to the manufacturer's subcontractors, whether or not you're explicitly interacting with them:
https://www.sciencealert.com/creepy-new-amazon-patent-would-mean-alexa-records-everything-you-say-from-now-on
By design, apps and in-app browsers seek to thwart your preferences regarding surveillance and tracking. An app will even try to figure out if you're using a VPN to obscure your location from its maker, and snitch you out with its guess about your true location.
Mobile phones assign persistent tracking IDs to their owners and transmit them without permission (to its credit, Apple recently switch to an opt-in system for transmitting these IDs) (but to its detriment, Apple offers no opt-out from its own tracking, and actively lies about the very existence of this tracking):
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar
An Android device running Chrome and sitting inert, with no user interaction, transmits location data to Google every five minutes. This is the "resting heartbeat" of surveillance for an Android device. Ask that device to do any work for you and its pulse quickens, until it is emitting a nearly continuous stream of information about your activities to Google:
https://digitalcontentnext.org/blog/2018/08/21/google-data-collection-research/
These faithless user agents both reflect and enable enshittification. The locked-down nature of the hardware and operating systems for Android and Ios devices means that manufacturers – and their business partners – have an arsenal of legal weapons they can use to block anyone who gives you a tool to modify the device's behavior. These weapons are generically referred to as "IP rights" which are, broadly speaking, the right to control the conduct of a company's critics, customers and competitors:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
A canny tech company can design their products so that any modification that puts the user's interests above its shareholders is illegal, a violation of its copyright, patent, trademark, trade secrets, contracts, terms of service, nondisclosure, noncompete, most favored nation, or anticircumvention rights. Wrap your product in the right mix of IP, and its faithless betrayals acquire the force of law.
This is – in Jay Freeman's memorable phrase – "felony contempt of business model." While more than half of all web users have installed an ad-blocker, thus overriding the manufacturer's defaults to make their browser a more loyal agent, no app users have modified their apps with ad-blockers.
The first step of making such a blocker, reverse-engineering the app, creates criminal liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, with a maximum penalty of five years in prison and a $500,000 fine. An app is just a web-page skinned in sufficient IP to make it a felony to add an ad-blocker to it (no wonder every company wants to coerce you into using its app, rather than its website).
If you know that increasing the invasiveness of the ads on your web-page could trigger mass installations of ad-blockers by your users, it becomes irrational and self-defeating to ramp up your ads' invasiveness. The possibility of interoperability acts as a constraint on tech bosses' impulse to enshittify their products.
The shift to platforms dominated by treacherous user agents – apps, mobile ecosystems, walled gardens – weakens or removes that constraint. As your ability to discipline your agent so that it serves you wanes, the temptation to turn your user agent against you grows, and enshittification follows.
This has been tacitly understood by technologists since the web's earliest days and has been reaffirmed even as enshittification increased. Berjon quotes extensively from "The Internet Is For End-Users," AKA Internet Architecture Board RFC 8890:
Defining the user agent role in standards also creates a virtuous cycle; it allows multiple implementations, allowing end users to switch between them with relatively low costs (…). This creates an incentive for implementers to consider the users' needs carefully, which are often reflected into the defining standards. The resulting ecosystem has many remaining problems, but a distinguished user agent role provides an opportunity to improve it.
And the W3C's Technical Architecture Group echoes these sentiments in "Web Platform Design Principles," which articulates a "Priority of Constituencies" that is supposed to be central to the W3C's mission:
User needs come before the needs of web page authors, which come before the needs of user agent implementors, which come before the needs of specification writers, which come before theoretical purity.
https://w3ctag.github.io/design-principles/
But the W3C's commitment to faithful agents is contingent on its own members' commitment to these principles. In 2017, the W3C finalized "EME," a standard for blocking mods that interact with streaming videos. Nominally aimed at preventing copyright infringement, EME also prevents users from choosing to add accessibility add-ons that beyond the ones the streaming service permits. These services may support closed captioning and additional narration of visual elements, but they block tools that adapt video for color-blind users or prevent strobe effects that trigger seizures in users with photosensitive epilepsy.
The fight over EME was the most contentious struggle in the W3C's history, in which the organization's leadership had to decide whether to honor the "priority of constituencies" and make a standard that allowed users to override manufacturers, or whether to facilitate the creation of faithless agents specifically designed to thwart users' desires on behalf of manufacturers:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership
This fight was settled in favor of a handful of extremely large and powerful companies, over the objections of a broad collection of smaller firms, nonprofits representing users, academics and other parties agitating for a web built on faithful agents. This coincided with the W3C's operating budget becoming entirely dependent on the very large sums its largest corporate members paid.
W3C membership is on a sliding scale, based on a member's size. Nominally, the W3C is a one-member, one-vote organization, but when a highly concentrated collection of very high-value members flex their muscles, W3C leadership seemingly perceived an existential risk to the organization, and opted to sacrifice the faithfulness of user agents in service to the anti-user priorities of its largest members.
For W3C's largest corporate members, the fight was absolutely worth it. The W3C's EME standard transformed the web, making it impossible to ship a fully featured web-browser without securing permission – and a paid license – from one of the cartel of companies that dominate the internet. In effect, Big Tech used the W3C to secure the right to decide who would compete with them in future, and how:
https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/
Enshittification arises when the everyday mediocre sociopaths who run tech companies are freed from the constraints that act against them. When the web – and its browsers – were a big, contented, diverse, competitive space, it was harder for tech companies to collude to capture standards bodies like the W3C to secure even more dominance. As the web turned into Tom Eastman's "five giant websites filled with screenshots of text from the other four," that kind of collusion became much easier:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/18/cursed-are-the-sausagemakers/#how-the-parties-get-to-yes
In arguing for faithful agents, Berjon associates himself with the group of scholars, regulators and activists who call for user agents to serve as "information fiduciaries." Mostly, information fiduciaries come up in the context of user privacy, with the idea that entities that hold a user's data would have the obligation to put the user's interests ahead of their own. Think of a lawyer's fiduciary duty in respect of their clients, to give advice that reflects the client's best interests, even when that conflicts with the lawyer's own self-interest. For example, a lawyer who believes that settling a case is the best course of action for a client is required to tell them so, even if keeping the case going would generate more billings for the lawyer and their firm.
For a user agent to be faithful, it must be your fiduciary. It must put your interests ahead of the interests of the entity that made it or operates it. Browsers, email clients, and other internet software that served as a fiduciary would do things like automatically blocking tracking (which most email clients don't do, especially webmail clients made by companies like Google, who also sell advertising and tracking).
Berjon contemplates a legally mandated fiduciary duty, citing Lindsey Barrett's "Confiding in Con Men":
https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3354129
He describes a fiduciary duty as a remedy for the enforcement failures of EU's GDPR, a solidly written, and dismally enforced, privacy law. A legally backstopped duty for agents to be fiduciaries would also help us distinguish good and bad forms of "innovation" – innovation in ways of thwarting a user's will are always bad.
Now, the tech giants insist that they are already fiduciaries, and that when they thwart a user's request, that's more like blocking access to a page where the encryption has been compromised than like HAL9000's "I can't let you do that, Dave." For example, when Louis Barclay created "Unfollow Everything," he (and his enthusiastic users) found that automating the process of unfollowing every account on Facebook made their use of the service significantly better:
https://slate.com/technology/2021/10/facebook-unfollow-everything-cease-desist.html
When Facebook shut the service down with blood-curdling legal threats, they insisted that they were simply protecting users from themselves. Sure, this browser automation tool – which just automatically clicked links on Facebook's own settings pages – seemed to do what the users wanted. But what if the user interface changed? What if so many users added this feature to Facebook without Facebook's permission that they overwhelmed Facebook's (presumably tiny and fragile) servers and crashed the system?
These arguments have lately resurfaced with Ethan Zuckerman and Knight First Amendment Institute's lawsuit to clarify that "Unfollow Everything 2.0" is legal and doesn't violate any of those "felony contempt of business model" laws:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/
Sure, Zuckerman seems like a good guy, but what if he makes a mistake and his automation tool does something you don't want? You, the Facebook user, are also a nice guy, but let's face it, you're also a naive dolt and you can't be trusted to make decisions for yourself. Those decisions can only be made by Facebook, whom we can rely upon to exercise its authority wisely.
Other versions of this argument surfaced in the debate over the EU's decision to mandate interoperability for end-to-end encrypted (E2EE) messaging through the Digital Markets Act (DMA), which would let you switch from, say, Whatsapp to Signal and still send messages to your Whatsapp contacts.
There are some good arguments that this could go horribly awry. If it is rushed, or internally sabotaged by the EU's state security services who loathe the privacy that comes from encrypted messaging, it could expose billions of people to serious risks.
But that's not the only argument that DMA opponents made: they also argued that even if interoperable messaging worked perfectly and had no security breaches, it would still be bad for users, because this would make it impossible for tech giants like Meta, Google and Apple to spy on message traffic (if not its content) and identify likely coordinated harassment campaigns. This is literally the identical argument the NSA made in support of its "metadata" mass-surveillance program: "Reading your messages might violate your privacy, but watching your messages doesn't."
This is obvious nonsense, so its proponents need an equally obviously intellectually dishonest way to defend it. When called on the absurdity of "protecting" users by spying on them against their will, they simply shake their heads and say, "You just can't understand the burdens of running a service with hundreds of millions or billions of users, and if I even tried to explain these issues to you, I would divulge secrets that I'm legally and ethically bound to keep. And even if I could tell you, you wouldn't understand, because anyone who doesn't work for a Big Tech company is a naive dolt who can't be trusted to understand how the world works (much like our users)."
Not coincidentally, this is also literally the same argument the NSA makes in support of mass surveillance, and there's a very useful name for it: scalesplaining.
Now, it's totally true that every one of us is capable of lapses in judgment that put us, and the people connected to us, at risk (my own parents gave their genome to the pseudoscience genetic surveillance company 23andme, which means they have my genome, too). A true information fiduciary shouldn't automatically deliver everything the user asks for. When the agent perceives that the user is about to put themselves in harm's way, it should throw up a roadblock and explain the risks to the user.
But the system should also let the user override it.
This is a contentious statement in information security circles. Users can be "socially engineered" (tricked), and even the most sophisticated users are vulnerable to this:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security
The only way to be certain a user won't be tricked into taking a course of action is to forbid that course of action under any circumstances. If there is any means by which a user can flip the "are you very sure?" circuit-breaker back on, then the user can be tricked into using that means.
This is absolutely true. As you read these words, all over the world, vulnerable people are being tricked into speaking the very specific set of directives that cause a suspicious bank-teller to authorize a transfer or cash withdrawal that will result in their life's savings being stolen by a scammer:
https://www.thecut.com/article/amazon-scam-call-ftc-arrest-warrants.html
We keep making it harder for bank customers to make large transfers, but so long as it is possible to make such a transfer, the scammers have the means, motive and opportunity to discover how the process works, and they will go on to trick their victims into invoking that process.
Beyond a certain point, making it harder for bank depositors to harm themselves creates a world in which people who aren't being scammed find it nearly impossible to draw out a lot of cash for an emergency and where scam artists know exactly how to manage the trick. After all, non-scammers only rarely experience emergencies and thus have no opportunity to become practiced in navigating all the anti-fraud checks, while the fraudster gets to run through them several times per day, until they know them even better than the bank staff do.
This is broadly true of any system intended to control users at scale – beyond a certain point, additional security measures are trivially surmounted hurdles for dedicated bad actors and as nearly insurmountable hurdles for their victims:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/como-is-infosec/
At this point, we've had a couple of decades' worth of experience with technological "walled gardens" in which corporate executives get to override their users' decisions about how the system should work, even when that means reaching into the users' own computer and compelling it to thwart the user's desire. The record is inarguable: while companies often use those walls to lock bad guys out of the system, they also use the walls to lock their users in, so that they'll be easy pickings for the tech company that owns the system:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained
This is neatly predicted by enshittification's theory of constraints: when a company can override your choices, it will be irresistibly tempted to do so for its own benefit, and to your detriment.
What's more, the mere possibility that you can override the way the system works acts as a disciplining force on corporate executives, forcing them to reckon with your priorities even when these are counter to their shareholders' interests. If Facebook is genuinely worried that an "Unfollow Everything" script will break its servers, it can solve that by giving users an unfollow everything button of its own design. But so long as Facebook can sue anyone who makes an "Unfollow Everything" tool, they have no reason to give their users such a button, because it would give them more control over their Facebook experience, including the controls needed to use Facebook less.
It's been more than 20 years since Seth Schoen and I got a demo of Microsoft's first "trusted computing" system, with its "remote attestations," which would let remote servers demand and receive accurate information about what kind of computer you were using and what software was running on it.
This could be beneficial to the user – you could send a "remote attestation" to a third party you trusted and ask, "Hey, do you think my computer is infected with malicious software?" Since the trusted computing system produced its report on your computer using a sealed, separate processor that the user couldn't directly interact with, any malicious code you were infected with would not be able to forge this attestation.
But this remote attestation feature could also be used to allow Microsoft to block you from opening a Word document with Libreoffice, Apple Pages, or Google Docs, or it could be used to allow a website to refuse to send you pages if you were running an ad-blocker. In other words, it could transform your information fiduciary into a faithless agent.
Seth proposed an answer to this: "owner override," a hardware switch that would allow you to force your computer to lie on your behalf, when that was beneficial to you, for example, by insisting that you were using Microsoft Word to open a document when you were really using Apple Pages:
https://web.archive.org/web/20021004125515/http://vitanuova.loyalty.org/2002-07-05.html
Seth wasn't naive. He knew that such a system could be exploited by scammers and used to harm users. But Seth calculated – correctly! – that the risks of having a key to let yourself out of the walled garden were less than being stuck in a walled garden where some corporate executive got to decide whether and when you could leave.
Tech executives never stopped questing after a way to turn your user agent from a fiduciary into a traitor. Last year, Google toyed with the idea of adding remote attestation to web browsers, which would let services refuse to interact with you if they thought you were using an ad blocker:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai
The reasoning for this was incredible: by adding remote attestation to browsers, they'd be creating "feature parity" with apps – that is, they'd be making it as practical for your browser to betray you as it is for your apps to do so (note that this is the same justification that the W3C gave for creating EME, the treacherous user agent in your browser – "streaming services won't allow you to access movies with your browser unless your browser is as enshittifiable and authoritarian as an app").
Technologists who work for giant tech companies can come up with endless scalesplaining explanations for why their bosses, and not you, should decide how your computer works. They're wrong. Your computer should do what you tell it to do:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/08/your-computer-should-say-what-you-tell-it-say-1
These people can kid themselves that they're only taking away your power and handing it to their boss because they have your best interests at heart. As Upton Sinclair told us, it's impossible to get someone to understand something when their paycheck depends on them not understanding it.
The only way to get a tech boss to consistently treat you well is to ensure that if they stop, you can quit. Anything less is a one-way ticket to enshittification.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Text
Her Protector And His Hubris
Pairing: Bodyguard!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: Being Stalked, SMUT, Mother's Death, Mentions of Attempted School Shooting, and Getting Shot.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 11.4K
Summary: Drew's job is to protect her, but he falls for the brilliance of his client and this turns into a whirlwind romance. What can go wrong?
A/N: Damn, this is so long. Also, this is inspired by the Twisted series by Ana Huang, specifically Twisted Games. I hope you enjoy it!
Masterlist
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The sounds of glassware clinking and small talk fill Drew’s ears as he surveys the restaurant. The dim lighting makes him anxious because it impedes his ability to notice any threats. At least, it’s better than when she goes to those ridiculous house parties. Those were not only a safety risk, but irritating to the thirty-year-old man. Her laughter draws his eyes back to her. Ugh, she’s laughing at something he said. Drew doesn’t know what Y/N sees in Sean. This is her third date with him and Drew can easily see that they wouldn’t make it far in the relationship. Sean doesn’t give a tip when they go out to eat. Volunteering in any capacity would be beneath him. And she seemed oblivious to the way he would ogle at her breasts. Drew’s fist tightens as he observes Sean reach over and take Y/N’s hand. Sean brings it up to his lips, kissing up her wrist to her elbow. Drew wants to take Sean’s hands and crush his fingers for the way he touches Y/N. Sean’s touch is consensual with the girl, yet it isn’t welcomed by her bodyguard. Drew knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her as her protector. It’s not his place. 
Drew is supposed to be a professional. He’s a bodyguard for heaven's sake; one wrong move and she could be in danger. But what is it about the way her eyes sparkle when she eats those incredibly expensive macarons? What is it about the way her hips move in a teasing manner as she walks ahead of him? What is it about the way her nails glide across the table that makes him wish they are scratching down his back? What is it about her that drives him crazy? Y/N Y/L/N has been his client for a year now and it hasn’t been easy. Not because there are constant threats against her, but because she makes him want to throw away any sense of duty to the job and ravage her. At first, he thought it was just his primal sexual needs that attracted him to her. However, over the year of getting to know her, he realizes he genuinely loves and admires her. 
He began working for Magnus Y/L/N after one of Magnus’s competitors threatened the CEO’s daughter. Magnus didn’t waste any time in hiring Drew to protect Y/N. Drew thought that Y/N was going to be like all his other clients. Spoiled. Rude. Self-centred.  Greedy. She was none, but one of those things. Being spoiled by her father her whole life engraving the trait into the twenty-three-year-old woman. She was spoiled in the sense she could get whatever she wanted, not in the sense that she would demand the riches of the world. He was pleasantly surprised to find she would always use please and thank you with everyone, even those far below her social class. She would volunteer to read to children at the library purely because she enjoyed the company of the kids. She would not hesitate to help her friends out with money for rent if they needed it. So far, Magnus’s rival has yet to act on his threat; nevertheless, Drew would be there to protect her if he does. It is not only his career; it is his life purpose because he has fallen in love with the young socialite he is tasked to protect. He would lay down his life for her. 
The bubbles of jealousy in Drew’s stomach start to subside when he sees Y/N’s face fall at something Sean said. Irritation replaces her smile and Drew feels satisfied with this turn of events. He can see she just wants to get away from the man ahead of her and Drew wants nothing more but to take her back home. Y/N calls over the waiter asking for the bill. Drew knows she will pay for the cheque. She is all for taking turns with paying for dates. Sean never pays though and she is too nice to point it out. It’s not like Sean can’t afford it. He works at the most prestigious corporate law firm, which happens to be his father’s. Drew isn’t going to complain if it’s the reason why Y/N no longer wants to be around the man. 
As the waiter approaches the table with the chequebook, Drew heads over to the table, ready to escort Y/N out of the restaurant. She pays for the bill, standing up with a glare at Sean. “I wish I could’ve seen what a pig you were before I went on two more dates with you,” she snarls at him. Drew helps her put her coat on and hovers his hands over her lower back to guide her toward the front door. Sean scoffs, “Whatever. You wouldn’t have been that good of a lay anyways.” Y/N doesn’t so much as look over her shoulder at the childish man. She refuses to let him get to her. Drew’s hand turns into a fist and he leans closer to her. “Do you want me to take care of him?” She shakes her head, “No, it’s fine. He doesn’t deserve any more of my brain space. He’s a pig.” The only thing that could stew Drew’s anger is the need to comfort Y/N. They walk towards her car and Drew holds the passenger’s side door open for her. She whispers a thank you as she slips into the seat. “Home?” he asks once he gets behind the wheel. She nods, letting her attention be drawn out the window. His lip tightens at her upset look, “I’m sorry he was a jerk. He doesn’t deserve you.” She keeps the silence going, only returning with a hum in thanks. 
When they get back to Y/N’s penthouse, Drew opens the door for her and does a quick visual sweep of the living room to make sure nothing is amiss. He is satisfied with her safety and holds her hands as she takes off her heels. She walks to her bathroom to get rid of her makeup and change into more comfortable clothes, while Drew heads to the kitchen to take out the dulce de leche ice cream from the freezer. He finds her waiting on the couch in sweatpants, an old t-shirt and a claw clip in her hair. She holds out her hand for the ice cream and he hands it to her, joining her on the couch to view whatever show she chooses. 
He isn’t surprised to hear the familiar jingle of Bob’s Burgers’ theme song. She has been re-watching the show recently on Disney+. This tradition has been a part of their daily schedule since she made him crack nine months ago. During the first three months of his employment, he would listen to her beg him to join her nightly unwindings. Drew refused, stating it was unprofessional of him to do so. He gave in after three months when he saw she had a hard day and she needed some comfort from someone. She had been late for work because the car wouldn’t start. Her lunch, which she had packed and was looking forward to, was dropped on the floor after an idiot bumped into her. And to top it off, she got into an argument with her father about a charity she wanted to support. Drew knew she needed someone in her corner, so he didn’t even wait for her to ask to sit down beside her on the couch with a pint of ice cream he knew she loved. 
They spend the night in comfortable silence, laughing at the Belcher family’s hilarious hijinks. He can speak up and ask her what Sean had said, but he knows all she needs right now is something to get it off of her mind and Drew would give her that. He would do anything for her. 
———
Drew hates it when Y/N goes to parties. They are loud, crowded and dark. It makes his job ten times harder. Add the fact that he has to deal with a drunk client and he dreads the times when she announces she is going out for a party. Y/N doesn’t normally get drunk. She rarely drinks more than two drinks at any event because she hates the creeping headache that happens even as she drinks her first one. However, tonight, Drew can see she just needs to let go of everything just for a night. He stays close behind her, towering over everyone in the party, which gives him an advantage in terms of her protection. His eyes are caught by a commotion in the room. It looks like a fight is breaking out in the other corner and Drew wants to get Y/N out of here before it can escalate to harm her. In the split second, he turns away from her, Y/N has managed to get up on the table behind him and is now dancing without her shirt on. 
The party people’s cheers draw Drew’s attention back to his charge. His eyes widen at her drunk dance and he tries to ignore the aching strain in his pants. The swell of her breasts is on full display thanks to her lack of a shirt; her skin pressing against the lacey bra that she wearing. He looks around the room to see the arousal of the other men in the room and all he wants to do is punch every single person eyeing her. He needs to get her down from there; if not for her safety, then because he doesn’t want to get in trouble for causing a scene at the party. How is he going to get her down from there safely? “Y/N, Precious. Please, come down from there,” he pleads, holding his hand out for her to take so she can get down. He can hear the boos of the drunk boys around them. He shakes off his annoyance at them and looks back toward her. Her arms cross, “No, I like it up here.” She turns her back to him, continuing her dance for the crowd. 
Drew sighs, knowing that was probably the answer he was going to get. If he pulls her down by the arm, he risks dislocating her shoulder or her falling and hitting her head. So he only has one choice. He hops up on the table and sweeps her off her feet. Now carrying her bridal style, Drew gets off of the table and walks toward the front door. The men in the room yell at him for stopping her show; he couldn't care less. He looks as she comes down from the excitement of the party and relaxes in his arms. His heart flutters when she lets out a soft breath, resting her head against his chest with her eyes falling closed. As he heads to the carl, Drew knows Y/N Y/L/N is going to spell out trouble for him. 
———
It’s been one week since her drunk performance and everything has been calm in her life. Y/N remembered what had happened the next morning, instantly mortified by her behaviour and thankful Drew was there to stop her from causing even more of a commotion. The party was filled with children of the country’s richest and most powerful people, so she doubted she would be in any scandal tabloids, yet just the thought that she had behaved like that embarrassed her. Y/N knows she shouldn’t look at her bodyguard the way she does. He is there to protect her and he always maintains his work composure, but she can’t help it. He understands her like the back of his hand and can provide her comfort like no one else by doing little things. His contract stipulates he is supposed to cook her breakfast in the morning and he goes one step further by making her favourites. Her father wanted her to have sustenance in the morning because he knew she was one to skip the first meal of her day, so Drew could’ve just made her eggs or microwaved oatmeal, but he didn’t. The breakfast she receives is picture-perfect and tastes just as good. 
She gets out of the car, thanking Drew for holding the door open for her. They head to the apartment building’s elevator and wait in silence as they reach her penthouse floor. The note taped to the door is Drew’s first indicator that something is amidst. His hand finds the gun at his side and this pulls Y/N away from her phone. “What’s wrong?” she questions, looking around the room for something she has missed. Her eyes spot the white paper standing out against the dark wood of the floor. He heads ahead of her, checking over his shoulder that there are no threats in the small hallway. No one should have access to this floor. It requires her fingerprint and keycard in the elevator to enter. All mail is vetted before passing on in her mail room and any building updates are left there as well. So there is no regular reason why the paper should be on there. 
As their feet reach in front of the door, she is finally able to read the words scattered across it. I saw your little dance, last week, doll. You really should be more careful with showing people what is mine. A picture of the scene in question is printed below. She lets out a terrified gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.
Violated. She feels violated by what she has just read. She may have been okay with the idea of feeling shirtless in front of everyone at the party in her own intoxicated state, but having someone speak about her in that way feels is a violation. Couple that with the fact the speaker had the guts to put the thought on her door and it is an invasion of her privacy. The picture is the cherry on top of the unsettling cake. The person, who dared threaten her, must be someone in her inner circle. Why else would they be at the party? How else could they have gotten into her heavily guarded apartment building? 
Drew can see the panic and fear in her eyes. He turns her away from the door, pulling out his phone to call for backup. She can hear him ordering the police to be called and his security company’s tech analysts come down to sweep the whole building. Her mind goes numb with what to do as more and more people arrive to assess the situation. She can only stand there and watch as everyone who comes tears her home apart, looking for anything out of place. When her bedroom needs to be searched, Drew takes the responsibility of looking through it with her cautious eye on him from the doorway. He makes sure to put everything back exactly how he finds it, taking especially care with the notebooks he knows are her journals. He finishes with her room and invites her to sit on her bed while they wait for the rest of the house to be checked. The all-clear is given around eight o’clock and everyone leaves the apartment in search of clues somewhere else, leaving behind a small army of extra security to guard her house. With a new active threat, Drew’s presence alone isn’t enough to keep her safe. 
Until they know more about the situation, Drew thought it would be safer to remain in her apartment, where he knew every inch of the building and the security measures in place already. There have been no indications the person, who made the threat, had made it into the actual apartment. Not sure if her cook is the one putting her at risk, Drew takes dinner into his own hands. He isn’t much of a cook, but he finds pasta and a jar of sauce in the pantry. He gets to work, making a note to search up how to make some of her favourite dinner meals like he did when he first got the job and had to make her breakfast. 
He finishes the meal and places it in front of Y/N, who sits waiting at the dining room table with a blank stare and her knees to her chest. He sits to her right and pushes the plate toward her to snap her out of her thoughts. “I know it’s scary to be here right now, but we’ve checked the whole house and there is no sign the intruder came into the house. It’s safe. I’m here and I promise I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you,” he whispers. The last part is mostly a silent vow to himself. Her eyes glance upward at him, “I’m not hungry.” The only thing she manages to get out. The unreasonable side of her is telling her the intruder had somehow touched her food. Drew sighs, “Precious, you have to eat something. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning. I let not eating lunch slide, but I really need you to eat dinner. Do you want me to make you something else?” The care in his voice causes her to pull the plate closer to her; she can feel his eyes on her as she brings the fork to her food and then her mouth. He gives her a smile before digging into his own food. 
She follows him into the kitchen after dinner and watches him do the dishes. He doesn’t let her help out, so she leans against the counter. Once he is done with the chore, she heads to her bedroom and listens as his footsteps stay close to hers. She starts going through her nighttime routine, getting her pyjamas and heading to the master bathroom to change. She can feel his eyes on her the whole time and she is comforted by the fact that he is still taking care of her. He should probably leave her alone. They’ve checked the whole apartment. No one is there and his room is down the hall, so an invader would have to go past his room first without his notice to get to her and that is impossible. He doesn’t want to leave though; he wants to make sure she is okay. 
The door to the bathroom creaks open and she walks out in light pink sweatpants and an old white t-shirt. He knows she is getting ready to go to sleep. He is about to leave the room when her voice calls out. “Can you stay please?” He turns back to her with knitted brows. She points to her bed, “Can you stay with me in my room?” “Y/N, I don’t think that’s wise,” he advises, leaning against her door frame. She steps closer to him, “Please, I’m scared to be alone. I don’t think I’ll get any sleep if I am.” This hits a nerve in him. Drew is always caring for her well-being. Telling her to eat. Reminding her to go to sleep. Little things like that. Drew lets out a loud breath, nodding his head. “Let me just go change my clothes and I’ll be back,” he notifies her. He leaves her room and she settles herself into her bed. For tonight, she has to stay in this house, but tomorrow, they’ll be able to get their barrings and maybe find somewhere else to stay. Her skin crawls at the idea someone thinks she is their property and they went through so much trouble to let her know. 
He returns in a Western Carolina University t-shirt and gray sweatpants. The sweatpants may be a little baggy on him, yet it doesn’t leave anything to her imagination and she feels her thighs clench together. She shouldn’t be imagining how good it would feel to be stretched out by him. He’s her bodyguard. He must have a partner of some kind. A girlfriend. A boyfriend. A spouse. He’s too good-looking and sweet not to. She may have been living with him for a year now, but she knows nothing about him. He doesn’t really talk about his personal life. She’s only been able to pick up a few things about him over the year. His favourite book is East of Eden; she’s seen him read it about three times since he moved in. When he misses home, he goes to the grocery store to buy the ingredients for his mom’s chicken casserole. And now, she knows him or someone he knows went to Western Carolina University.
He sees her on the bed and his footsteps bring him near her. She swears it’s like there are rocks in his feet because his steps are heavy and slow. He hesitates as he pulls the sheets back and causes the bed to dip as he lies down. The covers are pulled against his chest when Y/N turns to him to place her head on his chest. He doesn’t say anything. They can both feel they need this physical contact to be soothed. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is a little shaken up by the whole ordeal like Y/N. What would have happened if they had been home? What would have happened if they got home earlier and had run into the intruder? It doesn’t sit right in him as he listens to her breaths fall shallow and sleep comes over her. Drew is not lucky enough to fall into the same state as her. His insomnia and need to protect her will keep him up for most of the night. 
———
Drew is surprised when he wakes up from a five-hour sleep. Normally, he sleeps no more than two hours a night and that is if he is lucky to get any sleep at all. Something about having her in his arms while he lies in bed must bring peace to his insomnia. He looks at her with a sleepy smile. His eyes fall on the clock and he should probably get up to make breakfast so they can get their day started. He needs to come up with a new protection plan and assess if she is still safe in her apartment. His limbs untangle from hers; he does his best to not wake her up as he gets out of bed. He’ll get hot while cooking, so he slips off his shirt and leaves it on his bed before going to the kitchen. He pulls the door closed but not completely, leaving a little sliver open for him to be able to come to check in on her. 
She wakes to an empty bed and she wishes it isn’t. Panic fills her, thinking something has happened to Drew. The sounds of pans hitting each other fill her in on where he is. Her heart swells at the thought that he is still making her breakfast after last night’s scare. She is about to leave the warmth of her bed when her eyes fall on something on her bed. The gray shirt once on Drew’s chest now rests on her blankets. He was so gracious to her last night and took care of her. He didn’t have to stay with her the whole night; he could’ve sneaked out of her room as soon as she fell asleep, but he didn’t. Solely the thought of him brews something between her legs that needs to be fixed before she goes down to eat. She should have enough time while he is cooking. 
Her hand reaches out for the shirt to bring it to her nose. The smell of his Versace cologne and the smoke from the cigarettes he sneaks fill her senses. He has been hiding that he smokes ever since he found out she isn’t a fan of the tobacco-filled sticks. She shouldn’t like the smell of the cigarettes, but she can’t help that it reminds her of him. The shirt falls to the side of her head; she uses her hands to pull down her pants and underwear, leaving her shirt on for some warmth. One hand goes up underneath her shirt and the other goes up to her mouth. She puts her fingers in her mouth before bringing it down to her weeping pussy. A wet finger plunges into her hole, causing her to cry out in pleasure. She had failed to see her bedroom door was not completely closed. 
Drew stops his movement as soon as he hears her scream. He shuts the stove off, moving the pan off of the hot burner. He runs upstairs to her room. He stops just short of the doorframe when he hears her pants. It is obvious what she is doing by how breathy they are. It’s wrong to keep listening, but he hopes he can get a hint as to who she fantasizes about while she satisfies herself. It takes every bit of self-restraint he has not to pull his penis out of his pants and jerk himself off to the sweet sounds coming out of her mouth. ��Drew.” His name falls off of her lips; this has to be a dream. There is no way the woman he loves, his client, is masturbating to the thought of him. He peeks his head through the door and suddenly his dick starts pressing against the fabric of his pants. While her hands are placed on her vagina and breast, her face is to the side, burying itself into a gray piece of fabric. He recognizes it as the shirt he left here before he went downstairs to make their breakfast. What he is about to do is inappropriate; nevertheless, he needs to be the one drawing those sounds from her. 
“You made me think you were in danger, Precious. Instead, I find you touching what should be mine,” he snarls, taking a step into the room. The use of the word mine should cause turmoil in her stomach; however, she knows he isn’t using it in the same sense as the note. Drew uses mine to mean an exchange. Whereas, the note made her a possession of her writer and that doesn’t sit well with her. If Y/N gives Drew a piece of herself, then he will give her one right back. She would be an object to whoever wrote the note. He stalks closer to the bed, getting a better look at her soaked pussy. She feels the bed drop under the weight of his upper body; he stays kneeling at the foot of the bed. His hand wraps around her ankle and she yips as he pulls her closer to him. 
He takes a chance to glimpse up at her face, which is staring down at him with want. She gives him a minuscule nod and tries pushing his head toward her aching heat. His neck resists her force, chuckling at her actions. “Aren’t you eager, Precious?” he teases, smothering his head between her legs. He laps at her folds like a man who hasn’t drank water in years. Her hands grip the sheets beneath her, creating waves in them. Drew’s eyes narrow at her hands and he brings them to his hair. Her nails graze his scalp as she throws her head back with a moan. He pauses for a second, wanting to appreciate the look of bliss on her face and the symphony coming out of her mouth. His mouth continues to work against her, making her feel incredible in ways no man has before. “Drew, please. Keep going,” she begs. Her fingers bring his head closer to her, clenching around his tongue. He pulls back with a smirk, “You like this, huh? Do you like being eaten out by your bodyguard?” Her head bobs, wrapping her legs around his head. She grinds her hip into his face. 
His tongue darts into her vagina bringing her to her climax. “Hmmm. I love the sounds you are making for me, Precious. It’s my favourite sound in the world,” he mumbles, cleaning her up. He stands up and admires her body twisting to the side in contentment. She sits up, eyeing the way his pants aren’t hiding anything at all. She scoots to the edge of her bed and brings him in between her spread-opened legs. Her hands meet the skin of his bare chest. She points a finger against him, tracing down the middle line of his abs. She reaches his lower abdomen and slips her hand inside of his pants. “Now, it’s my turn to hear the pretty noises you can make,” she instructs in a sultry voice. 
Her hands shove him back a little, so she has enough space to sink to her knees. She grips his dick with her hand, rubbing up and down. It drags out the most amazing groan out of him. She can the wetness pool in between her thighs again. He spots the way her legs come together and it makes him even harder. “Precious, this feels so good,” he pants out. She needs something to loosen the friction, which means she opens her mouth and brings his length into it. She sucks at the tip. Her tongue swirls around the head of his dick, tasting his precum. “You taste amazing,” she praises before shoving herself further down his cock. He hits the back of her throat and she stays there for a second until she needs to pull back for air. She lets the air into her lungs before taking him into her mouth. Her head moves on his shaft and she continues to repeat the routine for a few minutes. He starts to feel a tug at the pit of his stomach, causing him to twitch in her mouth. His hips start to move back to meet her in the middle and unleash the tightening in his belly. She eagerly swallows everything he gives her. 
He pries her head off of him, gazing at the way a string of his cum connects his tip to her lips. “Get on the bed,” he orders. She climbs onto the bed and looks at him through her eyelashes. Her lustful stare hardens him again. She removes her shirt while he takes care of his pants. He dives into bed beside her and twists them both to their sides so her back is pressed against his chest. Mimicking the positions of her hands when he caught her, his fingers play with two of her buds. She can feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he twirls her nipples to arouse her. He is satisfied by the dampness between her legs and grabs his dick instead to guide it into her pussy. 
His thrust brings her hand to his bicep over her shoulder and she digs her nails into the skin. The slight pain it brings is worth it if it tells him how well he is doing to make her feel good. “You are clinging to my cock so beautifully. I think I might cum right now, but lucky for you, I have better stamina than that,” he groans, continuing the bring his hips against her ass. His hand on her breast goes to her hip to help keep her in place. He finds her G-spot, making her curl in on herself a little. His back follows her shift forward and his lips find her neck. She feels his teeth squeeze her skin between them, throwing her head back to give him more access. The grip on her hip is so strong that she is sure there will be a bruise later on. Eventually, she starts needing more out of his pace, so she propels backward to meet him. With both of them now working together, a knot starts to build in her lower abdomen. “Drew, I’m about to come,” she cries out, tensing her hand around his bicep. As her walls start to clutch around him, her face falls forward and he can no longer see her face. He focuses on aiding her in her climax. 
The hold she has on his penis hinders his ability to drive forward, yet it doesn’t stop him from hitting the spot inside of her that helps uncoil the formed tangle. He works her through her high, yanking himself out once she is loose enough. She rotates onto her back and smiles at the sight of him. He shifts to be hovering over her on his elbows. His lips connect to hers, separating so they are barely touching, “That orgasm was for you, but do you think you can have another one? This one is for me. I want to see your face while I unravel you.” He places his stiff dick between her legs and looks at her for permission to continue. She feels a little sensitive, except she wants to give him another release like he just gave her. Her skull jerks up and down. 
He grins down at her, kissing her as he enters her again. Her slick from her recent orgasm helps him do it with ease. She lets out a whimper because of her delicate state; head dropping to the pillow. In this second round, he is much slower, wanting to take his time with her. There is no guarantee he will ever get to be in this position again, no matter how much he prays to be. He brings her into her arms and buries his head into her neck, leaving prints along it with his mouth. The feeling of her wrapped around him tugs a moan out of him. It encourages him to persist, wanting to be in her vice once more. Another petit mort constructs within him. He desires to hold off a little longer; this must last longer. He can think of one way to be in this intimate moment forever. “I love you,” he rushes out. She looks away with disbelief in her eyes, “You don’t have to say that just because we are having sex.” He freezes, pulling back to see her eyes. His hand cups her cheek; his thumb ghosts her lips. “I’m not saying it because we are having sex. I’m saying it during sex,” he clarifies, searching to see if she understands. Her shoulder shrugs, “What’s the difference?”
“The difference is it means I truly mean the words. I’ve felt it for a long time. There was never a right time to say it,” he spells out. “I love how you ask the cook to buy me uncrustables and leave them in the freezer. I love how you always bring water to your drunk friends on a night out. I love how the universe gave you everything and you still give everyone all you have.” Her heart must’ve beaten out of her chest and jumped into his mouth to his chest because he had her heart entirely. “I love you too,” she confesses, the truth in her eyes. The joy he feels at her words combined with the gripping of her vagina brings him to an early climax. Thick ropes of semen come out of him as he presses forward with his hips again to ride it out. 
She follows soon after, pressing his body against hers by wrapping a leg around his hip. Their heaves overcome the room, a reminder of the line they crossed and never want to reverse. He slips out of her, now soft after the exercise they just went through. His body collapses to her side, exhaustion taking over him. She nudges her skull upon his arm, letting him sling it around her shoulder. “Can you carry me to the bathroom, Drew? Please,” she inquiries. He looks down at her with a grin, “Of course, Precious.” His feet plant on the floor, rising to the side of the bed. She gazes at his naked glory ahead of her. He kisses her forehead and assists her in sitting up. Her arms and legs enclose around him, bringing them chest to chest. His hands support the bottom of her thighs as he walks to her adjoining bathroom. He flips the light on and opens the toilet lid to allow her to sit on it. Before removing her from the toilet, she hears water dripping from the shower head. Steam fills the room and he transports her to the shower. Since she doesn’t like baths, she went all with the design of her shower. A room-size stall. Waterfall showerhead. Side jets. A little alcove to sit on. The whole nine yards. 
He sets her down on the seat, going to get the shampoo. He returns and starts working the soap into her hair. “Did you really mean it?” she mutters, barely louder than the water. His arms wrap around her shoulders, “Every single word.” 
———
They didn’t have a label for what their relationship had blossomed into and they didn’t feel they needed one. She is his and he is hers; that’s what matters. It’s been a month since the stalker incident and there hasn’t been another. Y/N thought she would need a break every so often from seeing the man she loves every single second of the day, except it isn’t the case. It’s Drew’s monthly day off and she craves his company more than anything. He didn’t want to leave her side either, especially with the stalker at large, but it would’ve been suspicious if he had stayed. What they have between them is meant only for their knowledge. Throughout the day, they both found themselves peeking at the clock for a sense of how long until they could be together again. Y/N’s knees would bounce at her desk at work and Drew would wander the streets of New York City, buying anything that made him think of her. As he walks through the front door of her apartment, it’s a real struggle for him to hide his grin from James. James Notting works for the same security agency as Drew and replaces Drew on his days off. James spots his counterpart and his eyebrows connect. Drew is back earlier than normal.
“You can go now. I’m back on duty,” Drew informs, placing the shopping bags on the table. James shakes his head, “Are you sure? You still have two hours left.” “Yeah, I ran out of things to do,” he states.
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Where is she?”
“The kitchen.”
As if on queue, the sound of a pan dropping on the floor reverberates around the apartment. “I’m okay.” They hear her yell from the other room. Drew looks at James in confusion. They both know she can’t cook. “Don’t ask me. She’s been in the kitchen for about an hour and ordered me not to enter,” James explains, grabbing his stuff to leave. Drew locks the door after James exists and enters the kitchen to figure out what his precious is doing. “Precious, what are you up to?” he interrogates. Y/N jumps at the sound of his voice, hiding something behind her back. “What are you doing back home so early?” He chuckles and steps toward her, caging her against the counter and between his arms. Neither of them answers the other’s question. She grins up at him and kisses him quickly as a distraction. His tall stature makes her attempts futile. He glances over her shoulder to see slightly burnt roasted potatoes on a pan. The scent of herbed chicken hits his nose and he scans for the source, finding it on the counter beside them. “Are you trying to make dinner?” Her attention shies away from him, which he returns with a finger under her chin. He can feel the warmth growing on her cheeks.
“Yes, but it didn’t go as well as I thought it would. I thought it would be easier. You don’t have to eat it.”
“Non-sense. It looks delicious.”
Excitement blooms in her and she gets serving dishes out of the pantry. He helps her set the table in warm silence. Everything is in place and they seat themselves at the table. She happily serves him food, waiting for him to take a bite. The first thing he tastes as the potatoes make contact with his tongue is a bitter undertone that overpowers everything. He resists the urge to crumple his face like paper. Her eyes are trained on him, anticipating the review of her cooking. He can’t dim the hope in her eyes, so he has no choice but to lie. She put so much effort into this dinner for them. “This tastes wonderful, Precious. I didn’t know I was protecting such a good cook this whole time. You should help me make breakfast,” he applauds. “Here, let me serve you some so you can try.” He selects the unburnt potatoes and cuts her the chicken thigh before handing her back the plate. It’s not like the meal is horrible, the potatoes are just a little burnt and Drew wants to keep the secret to himself. 
She thanks him in a whisper. She digs into her meal and he can see she is enjoying it. He lets out a small satisfied sigh and gets back to eating. Y/N is a slow eater, so it’s not a surprise Drew finishes eating first. His head rests on his chin and he resorts to gawking at her. She can feel his stare on her. 
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“Because you are. And I would kill anyone who would dare to hurt you. Your heart belongs to me.” 
“And yours belongs to me,” she repeats, leaning over to give him a kiss. She doesn’t have to worry about being safe. As long as Drew is around, she has nothing to worry about. 
———
The weekend means they can spend all day in her apartment. Her work week was left behind for forty-eight heavenly hours of the two of them together. While cuddling on her couch with the TV on, he realized they hadn’t checked the mail since Friday, so he went down to get it. He listens to the whine of the metal door opening as he reaches in to take the mail out. He looks through the different envelopes and finds one with his name written across the front. The writing is vaguely familiar. His hand tears open the paper and pulls out the letter. You don’t deserve her. She is mine. Under the writing is a picture of his longing glances at her. It is clear to anyone the feelings held within him. He folds the paper and puts it into his pocket. He should probably send it to the lab for analysis, but it would bring suspicion to his relationship with Y/N. He doesn’t need anyone’s help. He could keep her safe by himself; nothing would happen to her with him by her side. Plus, this is more of a threat to him and he isn’t scared by some loser's threats. 
He enters the apartment to find the couch now empty. He can hear the shower running and his mouth turns into a curve. She has been putting off showering while he is around because it always ends up with them having sex. He decides to give her a break and rests on the couch. Something on the coffee table piques his interest.
It’s a thick rectangle wrapped in purple paper and pulled together by a red ribbon. There is no note that he can see. He rips open the gift and finds a special edition of East of Eden. It’s a stunning hardcover copy with golden sprayed edges. He thumbs through the pages and lands on the title page. She had written on it. I hope you like this special edition of the book. It’s just a little gift to show my appreciation for everything you do for me. I love you so much. -Y/N <3. His heart is touched by her actions and tears form in his eyes. The distant sound of water hitting the shower tiles is replaced by her footsteps approaching her living room. Her hair is being held up by a green towel and a white one is wrapped around her breasts to cover her. “You’re back! And you found my gift. Do you like it?” she inquires, joining him on the couch again. He brings her onto his lap; his hand resting on her bare thigh. “I did find it and I love it. Thank you, Precious.” His lips kiss her neck and his hand makes his way to the front of her body. “After I’m done thanking you for the gift, I’m also going to have to punish you for taking a shower without me,” he growls against her skin, plunging into her now-drenched hole. 
———
Drew sits across from her at the cocktail bar, enjoying the way she laughs at the stupid joke he made. It is inappropriate for him to be sitting with her in public. No one is around to object to it though. The patrons of the dive bar could care less about who the couple are to each other. This isn’t the type of establishment Y/N could often be found at, except she has a point to prove. 
They had been trying to figure out what to eat for dinner when Drew made a teasing remark. “What should we get for dinner? We can order Fortunas, Petite Coquette, or… Why are you looking at me like that?” she grumbled. He shrugged, “Everything you eat is so fancy. Have you ever eaten food that you don’t eat with a fork and knife?” She gently slaps his biceps. “I eat sushi,” she argued. His brows raised, “You use chopsticks for those. Let me reword my questions. Do you ever use your hands to eat something?” “Yes! I use my hands to eat oysters,” she pointed out, continuing to scroll through their food options. “You are still proving my point, Precious,” he teased. Y/N got up from the dining room table and headed to her room. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to get ready. You should too. I’m going to prove you wrong,” she told him.
This is how they find themselves in a dive bar in Brooklyn. The waitress arrives with their food and places it in between them. They both thank her as she walks off. Drew studies the wings on the plate and his eyes fall on her again. “Are you really going to eat those with your hands?” She flicks her head up and down, reaching over to grab a wing. He delights in the way the sauce smears across her fingers. She bites into the meat, humming at the taste. “See, I’m using my fingers,” she demonstrates. Her stained hands are held up to his face. He takes it into his hold and licks a little bit of sauce off of it, “Hmm, you did. You picked a good sauce. I like it.” He picks up his own wing to devour. “How are your siblings?” she asks. He gives her a surprised look, “You remember I have siblings?” “Of course, it’s one of the only things I know about you. I just realized we know so little about each other,” she notes, wiping her hands with a napkin. 
“My siblings are good. One of my sisters just had a baby girl. What else do you want to know?”
“Aww, I love babies. You’ll have to tell me more about the baby later. As for what else I want to know… hmmm… When we first had sex, you were wearing a Western North Carolina t-shirt. Did you go to school there?”
“I did. I double majored in English, and Screen and Television.”
“Really? I can see why you did English because you are always reading when we are home, but Screen and Television? If you majored in those, then why become a bodyguard?”
His shoulders shrug and his vision drops to the food. “Yes, screen and television. I’ve always wanted to be an actor, but once I graduated, I realized it wasn’t practical. So I enlisted right after I graduated and after six years in the service, I decided not to renew my contract. It got too much for me,” he recounts. She can see how his tone has mellowed out and she reaches across the table to hold his hand. “It must have been a hard few years. Thank you for protecting our country. In a way, we can technically say you were protecting me that whole time too. How did you get into the security business?” His thumb circles the skin on the back of her hand, “You’re welcome. And I guess you could say I was made to protect you. After I left the army, it just made sense to become a bodyguard. The skills I learnt in the army transferred over quite nicely.” “Makes sense. You are very good at your job. I always feel very secure when you are around. How long have you been a bodyguard?” she continues the conversation. “I’m coming up on two years on Sunday, actually. I did one year as protection detail for a bunch of different clients and the almost one year I have with you.” She takes this information in and files it away for when they get home. 
The waitress returns with another plate of wings and this time, there are carrots and celery on the side. Y/N’s face scrunches at the sight of the celery. “Yuck, you can eat all of the celery. I don’t like it,” she imitates like a child. She picks up a green stick and waves it at his mouth. He tilts his head to the side, “How can you not like celery? Have you tried it?” Her head shifts from side to side, “No, but my mom didn’t like it.” The conversation pauses at the mention of Katrina Y/L/N. Drew knows the story of Y/N’s mother. 
Katrina Y/L/N was a guidance counsellor for a public high school in an underdeveloped part of New York. She didn’t work for the money. She worked to truly make a difference in the lives of children who needed her. Unfortunately, it was what brought her life to an end. One of her students had been expelled and he had returned to the school for his revenge on everyone, who he blamed for his expulsion. Katrina had been able to stop him before anyone could get hurt, except when the police arrived, they didn’t know. One wrong misinterpretation resulted in Katrina falling to the floor and she was bleeding to death. Y/N’s father wanted to sue the police department for all it was worth and obliterate the officer, who had accidentally shot his wife. Y/N talked Magnus down from his vengeance. They had all the money they needed and nothing could bring Katrina back. Katrina had chosen to save the young boy from the bullet and twelve-year-old Y/N had a much better idea of how she could honour her mother. With her father’s help, she designed outfits for a fashion show. Tickets were charged to some of the biggest names in the business and all proceeds went to an organization that helped renovate public schools.
Drew had learnt all of this when he was doing research on Y/N after getting his job. He remembers going through the pictures of Y/N waiting outside of the school for her mom to come back. He remembers the pain on her face when the coroner wheeled her mother out on a gurney. He wished he could’ve been there to keep Katrina safe for Y/N, but nineteen-year-old him wouldn’t have had any idea what to do. 
“Well, you aren’t your mother. So you should try it,” he suggests, wanting to ease her discomfort from the thought of her mom. She considers his order and takes a bite out of the stringy vegetable. Her face shows her discomfort at the taste in her mouth. Drew chortles at her expression, taking the stalk out of her hand. “Okay, so maybe celery isn’t your thing. At least, you have me to eat all the mean celery,” he jokes and finishes the rest of the disliked marshland plant. Y/N’s lips don’t rise at his joke, “My mom always used to say I would make an amazing fashion designer one day. She would let me style her outfits for different events with my dad. Could you imagine? Eight-year-old me going through my mom’s closet and picking out whatever I wanted her to wear. I look back at some of her old event pictures and think she really must have loved me to have worn some of the things I chose.” He smiles at the imagery of the girl he loves playing dress up with her mom. “She did love you. You know that right?” he confirms. The corner of her mouth softly raises, “I know. She told me it every second she could. I just wish I could know if she is proud of me. She may have said I would be a good fashion designer, but I want to know if she is proud of my choice to actually pursue it. I’m not doing anything noble like her.” 
He can sense the comfort she needs from him and he gets up to head behind her chair. His arms wrap around her shoulder, pulling her into an embrace. His lips meet the skin of her cheek and then the shell of her ear. “She would be so proud of you. Precious, what you are doing is noble. You took what you love and you used it to give back to the community. That is noble,” he reassures. He can feel her breath hitch at such physical touch from him in public. They’ve never been this close to each other in proximity to other people and she is thanking the fact no one in this bar would care about the daughter of a big CEO. Her arms reach out behind her to bring him in closer, “Thank you. You made me feel better. Do you think I can talk to you more about my mom? My dad rarely likes to talk about her.” 
“I will always be here to talk about your mom if you want, Precious.”
———
All week Y/N would return home from work and immediately shut herself in her home office, ordering Drew to stay out of the room. He doesn’t know what she is up to. Maybe she just needs some space from him. He starts suspecting that isn’t the logic behind her motives once she demands Drew stay in his bedroom until she comes to get him. He hasn’t stayed more than ten minutes in what used to be his old room following them getting together. Her room has practically become his. He could cheat and look at the security cameras in her living room, but he doesn’t want to spoil whatever surprise she has for him. The sound of the front door opening causes nerves to grow in him, except he trusts she wouldn’t do anything to put herself in danger. He busies himself with reading the copy of The Son by Philipp Meyer Y/N bought him. 
About an hour later, a quiet knock on the door captures his attention. “You can come out now,” she announces and opens the door for him. The open door reveals her wearing the pink sundress he loves so much on her. She beckons him to follow with a massive grin. Their feet slap against the hardwood floor and as they round into the living room, he finds a space full of people. He examines the faces of everyone. He recognizes every single one. Her father. James and their co-workers. His friends. Some of his army buddies. And lastly, his family. Hung across the fireplace is a banner that says Happy Two Years As A Bodyguard, Drew! Everyone cheers at his arrival and he searches for Y/N for answers. She sees his face, “It’s a party to celebrate two years of being a bodyguard.” He wants to hug her, except it would be inappropriate in the opinion of the party guests. To them, Drew and Y/N are just a bodyguard and his clients. The only argument as to why Y/N throws a party for him is her personality. She loves commemorating other people’s accomplishments. 
“This is fantastic, Y/N. Thank you,” he acknowledges, wishing he could give her a kiss. She casts her sights downward and swings her arms behind her back, “It was nothing.  I had fun planning it and making the decorations. It kept me busy.” Drew starts to examine the decorations with a newfound appreciation upon learning she crafted them by hand. “You did all of these. Y/N, these are incredible,” he acclaims. He is impressed by her craftiness. 
He recognizes the smell of his mom’s chicken casserole and his stomach grumbles for a taste. The swarming of his loved ones to congratulate him stops him from being able to do it. Drew is catching up with an old army friend when Y/N presents him with a plate of his favourite foods. “Sorry to interrupt. Drew hasn’t eaten all day. I want to make sure he does at some point today,” she explicates in advance of her walking away to chat with Magnus. His world starts to spin on its own axis. One where she is the axis at the center of his earth. Her effort to concern herself with his well-being and to plan a party for him shows her adoration for him. He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend and he thinks it is time to officially label who they are to each other. Not to the world. Merely for them to know what they mean to each other. 
———
The guests left a few hours ago after helping with the clean-up, leaving Y/N and Drew to relax on her couch. The words on the page aren’t being processed with Y/N’s head on his lap. She flips through the pages of her magazine. He perceives the way she halts between articles to write down some notes. His digits drag through her hair in admiration. This moment is perfect to legitimize their relationship. “So,” he begins to fixate her view of him. She drops the magazine to her chest. “I was thinking that maybe I could start calling you my girlfriend. Obviously, I won’t be telling other people, but I just think it could be something for us. To prove our devotion to each other.” She beams at him and sits up. Her lips smack on his. “I would be happy to be your girlfriend,” she confides to him. The pressure in his heart diminishes and beats at a steady pace. He feels like the world is in his hands because she quite literally is. 
———
Drew acknowledges it isn’t logical to keep Y/N from the outside world. She can’t stay in the comfort of their home forever. Besides, he treasures the way her hair is a wave in the wind and her eyes are stars in the sunlight. Freshly cut grass nauseates him and he fights through the feeling to keep doing his job. She wishes he could sit with her during her picnic, yet she comprehends his need to stay vigilant. The wine glass in her hand meets her lips and she gulps down the aromatic alcohol. She takes a bite of the brie from the charcuterie board. The breeze from the wind almost carries her magazine into the air. He has to hold in his enjoyment of her chasing after the booklet. She approaches him, finally catching it in front of him. She straightens up with a sense of accomplishment; however, her expression plunges alongside her widening eyes. 
He can’t ask her what is wrong. Her body shoots around him so their backs are facing each other and then he hears it. The one piercing crack that is so familiar to him. His certainty of what the sound was is confirmed when more booms don’t follow. It’s not fireworks. Her body stumbles into his as he wrenches in her direction. She collapses in his arms. 
It shocks her that she couldn’t really feel anything at first. The pressure on her shoulder reminds her of when she got her ears pierced. The bullet breaks through her skin like the puncture of a needle. The next thing she feels is nothing, probably because of the adrenaline going through her body. A crimson stain flowers on her shirt, resembling a rose. As it spreads, the numbness switches to a burn. She starts to think she is being felted into a small wool animal. The whip of another gunshot causes panic to grow in her. What if Drew was hurt? The voices around her start to blur together, becoming one big mush of noise to her. Her eyelids droop like an unsupported bridge, slinging between open and closed until she is kept in a state of unconsciousness. Is this how her mom felt that day, eleven years ago? Is this the day she gets to be reunited with her mother again?
———
Their environment should’ve been under constant scrutiny from him. He shouldn’t have let himself be distracted by her. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be in surgery right now. She wouldn’t have had to save him from that bullet. His hands and shirt are covered with her blood thanks to the disconnect of her right axillary artery. He doesn’t want to chance missing an update from the doctor if he gets cleaned up. The doctors are uncertain about her fate, but they are doing everything they can to help her. He wishes he could say the same about himself. 
Drew is aware of his appearance because of the hush that comes over the room. Hospitals are already quiet, but this is different. The silence has a hollowness to it. “Where is my daughter?” Magnus roars as he storms toward Drew. Drew's hunched posture adjusts at the entrance of his boss. He rises to his feet, trying to hide his tears. “She’s in surgery,” he manages to croak out. Magnus’ heart tumbles into his belly, “What do you mean she is in surgery? What happened?” “W- She was having a picnic, sir,” he stutters out. “She was standing in front of me and then all of a sudden she saw something that caused her to put herself behind me. She took the bullet for me.” Magnus’ eyes narrow and his eyebrows form a v, “You were supposed to be her protector. That’s what I hired you for. So how come I’m finding out that my daughter is in a life-or-death situation because of you?”
“It’s my fault, sir. I was distracted and my guard was down. This is all my fault.” 
“Of course, it is! I hope you know that you are fired immediately. You failed to keep my daughter safe. Now, tell me you at least caught the asshole, who hurt her.” 
“I understand your decision, sir. And I managed to fire a shot to incapacity the assailant. He is in police custody.”
Magnus nods in satisfaction, “At least, you can do that right. Do you know who he is? Do you think he was hired by Demitri to hurt her?” “I do know, who he is. No, I don’t think Demitri hired him. I think he is connected to the note Y/N received a few months ago. I’ve identified him as Sean Cox. Y/N and he went on a few dates. She ended it after the third date and he said crass things to her,” Drew relays to Magnus. Magnus snaps his fingers and his own bodyguard rushes to his side. “I want you to find out everything you can about this Sean Cox guy. Now!” he orders, returning his anger back to Drew. “I want you out of her apartment by the end of the week. You are dismissed.” 
———
The doctors were able to stabilize her in surgery and she’s been in a coma for a week. James has been updating Drew on her condition now that his co-worker is her full-time bodyguard. Per his contract with the company, he gets to take a full month off in between contracts that require him to live with the client and if the month is going to be anything like this week, Drew is going to fall apart. His insomnia keeps him awake to ruminate on the possible ways he could’ve saved her. And he keeps coming back to one conclusion. If he wasn’t smitten with her, then she would’ve been unharmed. Not only because he wouldn’t have been preoccupied by her vision, but because Sean wouldn’t have grown jealous enough to want to hurt Drew. His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his phone. 
James’ name flashes across the screen and Drew scrabbles to pick it up. “Is she okay?” he worries through the phone. James stops him before he can rant, “She’s fine. She is awake. She actually woke up from the coma two hours ago. I haven’t called yet because I figured you didn’t want to come while Magnus was here. She’s been asking for you.” “She’s awake? I’ll be there soon,” he states, hanging up his phone and getting out of bed. 
———
Drew greets James with his head as he walks through the doors of Y/N’s hospital room. He finds an exhausted-looking Y/N, lying in the bed. A smile paints across her face as soon as he sees her and he is pained by the notion as to why she is here. “Hi,” she rasps out. He joins her at her side, “Hey, how are you feeling?” “As good as you’d expect after being shot. The doctors say I should make a full recovery,” she retells. “I was thinking since my dad knows about us now, that once I’m discharged, we can go on a trip somewhere. Maybe Bali or Italy.” He wants nothing more than to agree. To tell her that he’ll go anywhere with her. Apart from the fact that he came here for another purpose. He doesn’t return her grin and she hunts for it. She yarns for him to return the excitement. “Drew, what’s wrong?” she interrogates, reaching out for a hand he can’t bring himself to give. He knows it will be too hard to let go of. 
“Your dad fired me.”
“I know. I’m not dating you because you work for my dad. I’m dating you because I love you.”
“I was fired because I couldn’t protect you.”
“Drew, it wasn’t your fault. Sean was the one with the gun. He was the one who fired it.”
The chair scrapes against the floor and Drew rushes to the window. His hands slamming against the sill startles her. “You don’t get it,” he yells. “I can’t be with you. You almost died because of me!” Y/N wants to rush to his side, except the stabbing pain in her shoulder stops her. Drew hears her wince and hurries to her side. “What are you saying, Drew? Are you breaking up with me?” she cries, tears pooling in her eyes. He steps away from her, back facing her. He can’t do what he needs to do if she is looking at him. “Yes.” No more words can escape his mouth; he needs to keep his composure. 
“But my heart is yours,” she sobs, trying to hold his hand. Drew needs to get away from her, “Well, you can have it back. I don’t want it anymore.” He hates being cruel, yet it’s the only way this will go faster. “Drew, please. It’s not your fault. Please,” she argues. 
Drew doesn’t have anything left to say and he doesn’t want to force her to be in his presence anymore, so he leaves her behind even though it kills him. It kills him to listen to her weep and not do anything about it. He craves to bring her into his hold and kiss her tears away. She may not believe this is all his fault but it is. It was his flaw that sent her to the hospital. His fatal flaw was thinking he was the only protector she needed. It was his hubris. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia, @f4ll-for-you, @mellillasstuff, @jjsmarijuana
677 notes · View notes
scuttlingcrab · 1 month
Note
What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD
LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x
Summary: Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.
Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.
Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.
The Devil's Muse
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(Image via keylana-dragon)
“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.” 
Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him. 
Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse. 
Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began. 
The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.
She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit. 
Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion. 
That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious. 
“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”
Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.
“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.” 
Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return. 
“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”
“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.
“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.
“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?” 
Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.
Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite. 
“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”
Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den. 
“So be it, if you insist.” 
Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison. 
“A gift for my new treasured client.”
The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall. 
Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas. 
Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.
He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.
Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice. 
Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last? 
“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”
“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”
“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.  
“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy. 
“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.” 
Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.
Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork. 
“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”  
“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”
“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.” 
“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”
Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer. 
“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”
“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”
Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow. 
“One note though.” Tav whispered. 
“Go on?” 
“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”
Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.
Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright. 
Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests. 
“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party. 
The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting. 
“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him. 
“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room. 
“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.
Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion. 
“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”
Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.
“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.
Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.
The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.
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mykneeshurt · 1 year
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Glutton
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Credit for title picture - @loneghostwolf
König x F!reader
Disclaimer - this is a BDSM style fic, topics covered in this should NOT be carried out lightly. They should be performed either by a professional or in a committed relationship by consenting adults who have researched this. It can be dangerous both mentally and physically. Safe words, consent, limits and aftercare is non-negotiable in these scenarios.
Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, humiliation, spitting, slapping, shibari, slight burning, foot/heel worship, loss of control, praise kink, allusions to breath play
Standing in the mirror your smoothed out the black latex corset which adorned your body. Paired with black latex trousers and black patent Louboutins. It hugged your figure so gracefully, enhancing every curve, every juncture of your body. Once the latex sat where you wanted it you sprayed on his favourite perfume. He loved heavy and musky scents, sandalwood, amber, oud.
And by him, you meant König.
You aren’t meant to have favourites in your job as a dominatrix, but he was … different.
A 6’10 mass of muscle, a killing machine. Hands that could easily break the bonds you’d put him in. That could easily over power you if he wanted to. Now while you make every client sign a strict contract, some would still try to take advantage. But König looked at you with nothing but respect.
You remembered your first meeting, where you discussed limits, safe words and scenarios he wanted to play out. ‘What made you want this?’ You asked cocking your head. This wasn’t something you usually asked, that was their business, but you felt compelled to ask him.
His brilliant blue eyes peered at you from across the table and you were met with a thick Austrian accent, ‘I want to lose control.’
Now König liked a mixture of fetishes, humiliation, heel worship, face slapping and a hint of being your personal ashtray. Being restrained was a no brainier for him, that’s how he felt like he’d lost control.
He took to his knees in front of you, eyes already wide, like a deer in the headlights at your outfit. The shoes? Fuck. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as the dim light bounced off the patent material.
Crimson rope twisted and slithered around his firm biceps, all the way down to his wrists. He flinched slightly as your fingers grazed his skin, he could feel himself becoming hard. You firmly tugged his arms behind his back. His tan tactical pants strained as his muscles bulged underneath, he was always topless during these sessions. Wearing only his hood and trousers. He still wanted to keep some anonymity.
As you fastened the last knot in the rope you lowered your mouth close to his ear ‘now, what do you say König?’ Your voice was husky and sultry as it brushed against him. His mouth suddenly dry he fought to find words ‘y .. yes.’ Digging your nails into his skin he let out a hiss, ‘yes what? Don’t forget your place König.’
‘Yes mistress.’
With a smirk you placed a tender kiss on his cheek, time to begin.
Now while you catered to many scenarios, your session room was mainly kitted out with gothic decor. Candles, reds, blacks, dark oak, rich warm colours all melting into one another. In the centre of the room sat your throne, a dark mahogany chair with red velvet and crystals. Two lion heads adorned the arms as intricate baroque style woodwork adorned it.
As you walked over towards your throne you could feel his eyes fucking your from behind. His glare focused solely on your shoes, how they created an arch in your foot. The thin stiletto heel tapped on the wooden floor as took each step. He gritted his teeth, short breaths escaping his lips as he felt adrenaline surge through his veins.
This is why he came to you.
To feel alive.
On the battlefield he’d never felt more empty. Taking lives didn’t phase him anymore. He was numb to it all now, he had to be in control there, here? He could lose himself completely.
Sitting on your throne you leant back, arms draped over the sides, legs crossed. With a click of your finger you pointed to your feet, ‘König come.’ Your voice stern and commanding. Slowly he crawled over to you, careful not to lose his balance. ‘Quickly. Don’t keep me waiting.’ You snapped scowling at him.
He sat on his heels in front of you, eyes glimmering under the candle light of the black crystal chandelier. Lifting your foot you slipped the point of the shoe under his mask, ‘lick it, be a good boy for me.’ You watched as his breaths became shallower, his thick chest panting. A small groan came from under the mask as you felt his warm tongue swipe along the shoe. ‘You like that?’ You asked, tone patronising and curt.
‘Yes’ he panted. Removing your foot you leant forward slapping him ‘yes fucking what? I won’t ask you again König.’ His eyes suddenly showing a glint of panic he apologised, the last thing he wanted to do was to disappoint you. ‘For a solider you’re shit at listening.’ This time you pressed your heel into his chest, pinching his skin. His eyes back rolled slightly, as you heard the rope creak under the immense pressure of his strength.
From under his mask you heard him lick his lips, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs. Gripping his cheeks you pulled him closer to you, glaring down at him you tutted. ‘Sounds like someone’s thirsty. Haven’t you drunk enough today? Shit listener and fucking stupid.’ He remained silent. ‘Would you like a drink König?’ You asked a devious smirk on your blood red lips. ‘Yes mistress’ he said, voice strained and pathetic.
You lifted his hood to just below his nose, his lips swollen and red from biting them. Running your thumb over his lips he automatically opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Hovering your mouth inches above his you pursed your lips, allowing a silk like ribbon of spit fall onto his tongue. Slipping to the back of his throat. A soft whimper emerged from him as he relished the taste of you. It was like a reward.
Tapping his face you allowed him to swallow before repeating it again another three times. Rewarding him with praise each time. Only he forgot to thank you. Unsure if he genuinely forgot due to his pleasure or due to him pushing you like the brat he was, this would not do. Motioning him to stand up you undid his belt and pulled down his trousers and boxers. Leaving him bare.
‘On your knees and lick the floor like the ungrateful pig you are. You’re going to be punished severely for that.’ He did as he was told this time, muttering a yes mistress under his breath. You watched as his pink glossy tongue ran along the wood floor next to your foot. He placed a tender kiss on the skin as he looked up at you. Pupils blown wide, filled with euphoria and oxytocin.
He watched as you wandered over to a sideboard pulling out objects he couldn’t quite see. The anticipation made his cock twitch, pre-cum clinging to his engorged tip. You sat down on the edge of your throne, one foot behind the other as you lent on your thighs. You pulled out a cigarette and brass lighter, as you lit the cigarette he tensed knowing what was coming.
His favourite.
Taking a large inhale you blew the smoke in his face, menthol. You hated the taste of regular cigarettes, the menthol made it bearable. If you didn’t know him any better you’re sure a growl left his chest. With each puff of the cigarette you blew the smoke in his face, his eyes transfixed on you. ‘Coat your tongue and open your mouth’ you ordered. Doing as he was told he revealed his spit covered tongue to you, ever so gracefully you tapped the burnt ash onto his tongue. ‘Good boy’ you cooed, ‘swallow.’
Without breaking eye contact he swallowed, hard, gentle moans and whimpers echoing under his mask. This continued until the last drag of the cigarette. As a special reward for taking it all, you spat on his tongue before putting out the cigarette on it. A slight sizzle could be heard under Königs heavy panting.
His cock looked painful, throbbing with every word, every smack, every interaction. It was killing him. He was bordering on delirium, he needed to cum so bad. Noticing this you knelt down to his level and stared straight into his soul. ‘I know what you’re gonna do, you’re gonna go home, on your own and jerk off to this. In your sad little apartment. In your sad little life. On your own. Pathetic.’ His head flopped to his chest as a broken moan managed to fight its way to the surface.
He was close. Still on his knees you bent down and untied the rope, freeing his arms. ‘Lie down. Show me.’ You nodded to the floor, as you wound up the rope. Stretching out on the floor he led still awaiting your command. You lit another cigarette as you placed your foot on his neck, pressing slightly. His cock twitched against his stomach, hand on hip you repeated the command ‘show me, show me how you’d jack off on that pathetic apartment of yours. I want to hear those pathetic moans König.’
As his hand encased his cock his back arched off the floor, finally being able to release the pressure building up inside of him. Never taking his eyes off you he watched as you inhaled the cigarette, tapping the ash over his body. ‘Such a fucking loser’ you spat, ‘can’t find anyone to fuck so you come here?’ You let out a condescending laugh.
He pumped his cock, slow at first, building a rhythm as he writhed beneath you. ‘Are you a loser König?’
‘Yes misters’ he whined, muscles tensed his toes pointed as he neared his release. Your foot still on his neck you crouched lower to him and lifted up his mask. Slapping his cheek you repeated your question ‘are you a pathetic loser?’
‘Yes mistress’ he whimpered, voice cracking and shaking. This time you spat on his face, the salvia landed on his lips, he licked them eagerly. Another taste of you.
‘Cum König.’ You barked as you stared into the black void that was once his eyes. Pupils completely blown wide, glazed and glassy. And just like that? He came on command. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, jaw slack as he rode out his orgasm. You watched the way his body contorted under you, his muscles rippling and tense.
After he’d come down from his high you offered him a warm inviting smile. He looked a little shy but retuned the gesture. ‘Well done König. You always do so well for me. Go clean up and meet me in the debrief room.’
After each session König would use the private bathroom for clients, muted colours, essential oils and lavender filled the room. Utter relaxation was the goal. Once dressed he met you in the debrief room where you had changed, ‘you really are a glutton for punishment König.’ You smiled softly as he joined you on the sofa.
———
Taglist - @luminousbeings-crudematter @griffmon @southernbluebellereader
This is the throne - I need it for my vanity tbh lmao
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vensconcept · 3 months
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Le Centre d'Appel et de Régulation – Au Cœur de la Relation Client et de la Gestion Opérationnelle
Notre Centre Opérationnel des Entreprises Française (COdEF) est fier de présenter son Centre d'Appel et de Régulation, un service révolutionnaire conçu pour renforcer la relation entre nos entreprises adhérentes et leurs clients. Ce centre, véritable hub de communication et de gestion, est au cœur de notre stratégie de service client et d'optimisation opérationnelle.
Accueil et Veille Multicanal
Notre centre est la première ligne de contact pour les clients, offrant un accueil téléphonique chaleureux et professionnel. Mais notre veille ne s'arrête pas là : nous surveillons également les mails, les demandes de contact via le site web et les interactions sur les réseaux sociaux. Ainsi, chaque client est assuré d'une réponse rapide et personnalisée, renforçant la réactivité et la présence de nos entreprises adhérentes sur le marché.
Gestion Dynamique des Fiches Clients et Devis terrain
Au cœur de notre système, la création et la modification des fiches clients se font en temps réel. En dialogue direct avec le client, nos agents sont capables de générer des devis terrain facilitant le travail chez le client, en utilisant notre logiciel de régulation avancé.
Ce système nous permet d'avoir une vision complète de toutes les entreprises adhérentes, de leurs plannings, ressources humaines et équipements.
Cartographie en Temps Réel et Affectation Optimisée
Une innovation majeure de notre centre est l'utilisation de la cartographie en temps réel pour la gestion des affectations.
Que ce soit pour un devis, une livraison, ou un service de transport, nous pouvons localiser instantanément le salarié le plus proche et le plus qualifié, ainsi que l’entreprise idéal pour répondre aux besoins spécifiques du client.
Cela optimise non seulement le temps de réponse mais assure également un service plus efficace et personnalisé.
Suivi de Chantier et Gestion du SAV
Le suivi ne s'arrête pas à l'affectation. Nous assurons un suivi rigoureux des rapports de chantier et une gestion proactive du service après-vente. Ce dernier service permet de proposer aux clients un compte qui lui est personnel où il peut rassembler tout son cursus avec le groupe et lui permettre de créer des ticketing suivi en cas de problèmes.
Cette approche garantit une qualité constante et une satisfaction client accrue.
Programme d'Ambassadeur et Marketing Relationnel
Nous ne nous contentons pas de répondre aux besoins immédiats ; notre centre s'engage également dans la gestion du suivi client.
En proposant des programmes d'ambassadeurs et des promotions, nous créons une relation de fidélité et d'engagement à long terme.
Des mails automatiques permettent de maintenir le contact et de présenter les services des nouvelles entreprises adhérentes.
Sécurité et Assistance d'Urgence pour les Salariés
La sécurité de nos salariés est une priorité absolue. Notre service d'urgence et de protection pour les salariés inclut la gestion des secours et la localisation en cas d'urgence, assurant ainsi une intervention rapide et efficace.
Conciergerie et Services Évolutifs
Envisageant l'avenir, nous mettons en place un service de conciergerie pour nos salariés et clients, offrant une gamme de services personnalisés et pratiques.
En conclusion,
Notre Centre d'Appel et de Régulation du COdEF représente une avancée majeure dans la manière dont les entreprises interagissent avec leurs clients et gèrent leurs opérations.
Nous sommes fiers de cette innovation et sommes convaincus qu'elle apportera une valeur ajoutée significative à nos entreprises adhérentes et à leurs clients.
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