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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin vaggie#hazbin demon#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel rosie#alastor#helluva boss vox#vox x reader#vox hazbin hotel#alastor and vox#hazbin hotel vox#overlords#hellaverse#yandere alastor x reader#yandere alastor#yandere Vox#yandere Vox x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere hazbin hotel x reader#isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows#isuckatwritingsobenice
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Not me absolutely frothing at the mouth about this AU. Can we get an info dump on the Lore? It's making me want to abandon my current Spideypool WIP for this. Absolutely terminal brainrot for this boy
BEHOLD: MASSIVE LORE DUMP!
Peter B. Parker is a young troublemaker who has a problem with authority. He also has a knack for picking tech apart and putting it back together, which puts him on the radar for a small-time gang that needs someone to act as their alarm system breaker for a big score.
Unfortunately, said score had bad intel and what was supposed to be a simple robbery turns out to be manslaughter when the resulting fire that was supposed to cover up their tracks ends up killing two guards.
Peter is tried as an adult with the rest of the gang and sentenced to Rykers for 5 years.
Check out the full page HERE.
At Rykers, Peter meets Marko Flint, who takes Peter under his wing. and teaches him how to survive and thrive when wearing the orange.
Life goes on for 5 years. He learns the trade, gets some tats, learns how to make some great shivs, and becomes a better criminal all around. Yay prison!
Peter gets out at 21, and reunites with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He does his best to clean up his act, but normal life is hard for someone who spent their formative years in prison.
(He also makes questionable hair and fashion choices. What can I say, he's catching up!)
He goes from job to job, trying to pay back his aunt and uncle for all their support but is completely unequipped for the 'real world.' After a few months working/getting fired from soul-crushing menial jobs (HS dropout!), he agrees to take 'one last job' with Marko that is 'guaranteed to set them up for life'.
*cough*
This robbery goes off without a hitch! No one is hurt and they make off after hitting a heavily armored Oscorp Transport with a ton of documents/tech that they aim to sell to the highest bidder.
The biggest mystery is that one glowing vial of untested, experimental serum they found...
Unfortunately, Oscorp doesn't take robbery lightly. Marko finds out through contacts that the serum (whatever it is) is too hot to sell on the market, so he instructs Peter to get rid of it so it can't be traced back to them.
Peter, a rational 22-year-old ex-con, 'gets rid of it' by mixing the serum into ink and tattooing it onto his wrist, triggering the start of his mutations.
It takes a bit, but Peter get's all the regular spiderman benefits (webs are organic), plus one more. The serum was created from the venom of the Portia Spider, a hunting/jumping spider known to be uniquely intelligent among arachnids.
Alongside the speed/strength/spideysense, Peter also grows some fangs that secrete a powerful venom.
The venom speeds up the body's processes, working almost like an insane performance booster and enhancing an injected person's strength, speed, and senses for a few hours.
Unfortunately, repeated doses also eventually induce shock, paralysis, and, later, death.
He gives a few samples of it to Marko as an exit fee.
Uncle Ben was suspicious of how Peter suddenly got so much money, but took him on good faith. But, while he was watching the news that covered the Oscorp robbery, connected the dots and had a blowout fight with Peter that ended with him having a cardiac event.
Unfortunately, he did not survive.
Aunt May and Peter were estranged over this for several years.
This event crushes Peter, sobering him up immediately. He goes back and gets his HS diploma, and works on night courses in college.
However, he spends much of his days wandering, angry at himself and what he did. He beats up a mugger one day and realizes that he could be using his powers to back up the faith Ben had in him.
Spiderman is born!
Eventually, he and Aunt May reunite, and their relationship is slowly healing.
A few years later, Peter is on the up. He and Aunt May are close again! He's got a bachelor's in computer science, has a (semi) steady job, and is well-liked as Spiderman by the populace at large. His rogue's gallery is roguing- etc.
Unfortunately, a variant of his venom (developed by Kingpin) hits the streets as a drug. It's favored by both criminals for its performance-enhancing strength, as well as civilians, for the time-slowing sensation/high it gives them.
His girlfriend, Mary Jane, who has been sober for a few years, relapses. Peter, knowing that he can't stop her from getting it on her own, reveals his identity and becomes her main source.
At least, this way, he can control the dosage.
Marko (who sold Peter's venom to Kingpin) manages to fire off his only two brain cells and realizes that Spiderman IS Peter Parker.
Then he outs him to the world because Spiderman made it personal.
Peter's life catches on fire. The entire world is after him. His loved ones have to go into hiding because there's no shortage of criminals and psychopaths who want to get their hands on MJ and Aunt May to get to Spiderman.
Peter ceases to exist. It's not safe anymore. He spends days (weeks? months?) in the suit. Eventually, on the run and burnt out, he pleads his case to Dr. Strange in desperation. (Ala No Way Home)
"Everyone deserves a clean start."
Dr. Strange agrees, but the spell can't work with Peter still existing as part of the equation. So it fires him off into a reality where Peter B. Parker, and by extension Spiderman, never existed.
So how's an ex-con/ex-superhero (for now) supposed to carve a space in a world that never knew him? By finding somewhere that doesn't ask any questions.
And it just so happens, that St. Margaret's School for Wayward Children has a reputation for both being a bar of questionable repute and looking the other way.
Might as well start there.
~~~~~~~~~
Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely ask! I hope this massive lore dump wasn't overkill, but I'm having a lot of fun with this world and wanted to share.
And I offer this lore dump ONLY on the condition that you do not drop whatever you're working on. There is always space for more spideypool in the world, don't deprive us!!!
#spiderman#peter parker#hunting!spider#spiderman au#super duper messy lore but whose gonna stop me? the lore police?!#new reality is like...right before the superhero boom#so there's no 'heroes' because I wanted a totally clean slate#also i headcanon that deadpool didn't exist in this peter's OG universe either#asks#thank you so much anon#Be feral with me
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being married to gojo as an actress while playing the role of a villain...
au, fluff, some suggestive themes, cheating themes
🌟🌟🌟
both you, satoru, and probably the rest of the world can confidently say that satoru is your biggest fan. while he is fully successful within his own career, he can not help but fawn over your achievements like a ten year old boy with one of your movie posters hung up in his room
the world does not associate either of you without the other. yes, you have individually made an outstanding name for yourself within the television and theater industry, but your fans find the two of you so adorable, so iconic that it’s impossible to imagine you without satoru gojo and satoru gojo without you
viewers are starstruck when you arrive to your film premiers with satoru on your arm, beaming pridefully as though it’s his first time walking the red carpet when that’s hardly true. you’re beautiful, and everyone knows it. the second your eyes meet a camera along with satoru’s striking blue ones, his hand wrapped snugly around your waist and your faces adorned with dazzling smiles, photographers go wild. even more so when satoru blatantly grabs your face and kisses you all over, feeding your fan pages’ content as well as his desire to constantly shower you in affection
and when it’s not at premieres, satoru’s supporting you during tours, press conferences, galas, meet and greets, sitting backstage or in the front row of the crowd or at times by your side as though he can’t bear to be away from you. when you’re being showered in appreciation, he’s flicking thousands of pictures, capturing the way you interact with your adoring admirers
satoru's grown rather used to the array of roles you have played. he's seen you in rom-coms, dramas, thrillers, actions, you name it, and though he doesn't necessarily get jealous when you have to kiss someone on screen anymore, he doesn't always appreciate some of the intimate scenes you do. despite so, he trusts you. he knows it's your job and that none of it is real, and above all, he knows the faces you make when you're truly experiencing pleasure. while you're an amazing actor, those faces you make on screen could never begin to compare to the ones he draws out of you
ever the arrogant man, however, satoru always makes it a point to remind you of who makes you feel good- who has you crossing your legs under the table as you meet with colleagues over the computer, his fingers working their way in and out of your sopping cunt off camera as you try your damndest to keep a straight face while your entire lower half is squirming- who makes a point to fuck you over the dresser of your trailer in between shoots after having brought you some coffee to help keep your energy high, rambling on about how one of the tech assistants had been looking at you for too long- who, at any event possible, will never fail to lay you back on the seat of your limo before even stepping outside, scrunching up your obscenely priced gown to eat you out as he gazes up at you over your legs
"you're so gorgeous, pretty. my pretty girl," "how lucky am i to be the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?" "fuck, baby, they have no fuckin' idea how good you feel"
even with his habits, satoru will never turn his nose up at any role you play simply because you're far too talented and simultaneously devoted to him for him to ever feel put off by your occupation. besides, he's managed to bag one of the most famous actors in the world. he truly does not think he has anything to worry about when it comes to you
satoru finds himself rather surprised, yet excited nonetheless, when he hears that you are to be playing a dislikable character in the upcoming film of the summer. you warn him that it's drastically different, that you'll be tapping into a morally poor side of yourself for this role that you have never delved into, nor really favored before
"pretty, you'll do amazing. trust me. do i get to watch you be mean to other guys? do you get to beat anyone's ass? honestly, that sounds like a dream come true" "i mean, yeah, but toru it's more than that. my character is actually a bitch. an unfaithful, abusive one. i don't know how i'm gonna do that..."
satoru knows that behind all the glitz, glamor, and fame, the occupation of an actor can be incredibly emotionally and physically taxing. you don't tell him much more about the role before rehearsals and filming starts, but he can tell over time that you're struggling with this particular film. simply because you're just too kind of a person despite how large your presence is
well into the filming process, he decides to visit you on set to serve as some extra emotional support. he's watching from behind the cameras intently as you go through a scene that's way more intense than he had previously expected, and his jaw practically drops as he watches the scene play out before him
your character is being confronted by her husband about her infidelity, and all the while as your acting partner screams at you in tears to beg you for some remorse, you lay back on a sofa with a cigarette pinched between your fingers, face completely dull and apathetic
"how could you do this to me?! to us? why won't you look at me! I say something!"
"whatever i say won't change the fact that i fucked someone else."
"...do you even care? do you care that you've ruined our relationship?"
"let's be real, there was no relationship to begin with."
"w-what do you mean?"
you stand, stubbing your cigarette into a mug, and walk over to your sniveling scene partner. the camera zooms on your face, your dead eyes, your angled brows. "i never loved you. don't you get it? you're just a pet, and you know it. so don't go crying to me about breaking something that was never promised"
satoru's eyes are wide, completely enraptured as though this scene is a real moment he is witnessing from afar. your fake husband he breaks down, dropping to his knees and clinging to you, but you curl your lips in disgust.
"get the fuck off me," you hiss, shoving him rather aggressively away. he falls, sobbing. "pathetic piece of shit."
you go to turn away, but stop and stumble. immediately you break, and gone is the merciless woman that was acting before the crew seconds ago. the light returns to your eyes as you cover your mouth in embarrassment, looking up.
"sorry, i forgot my next block," you say sweetly, timidly. "how was that?"
"perfect! let's pick up from when you turn away. once you say that last line, you-"
satoru is baffled, the director's notes falling into muffled white noise as he stares at you. he's never seen you in such a position before, one that has him questioning everything about you. and though you claimed to have a hard time with it, you were doing fucking phenomenal
he sees now what you mean about your character being... well, a horrible person for lack of a better term. he doesn't even recognize you, and he's sure your fans are going to have a field day when this film comes out. you're being shown in a drastically different light from your heroine and emotionally relatable love interest positions, and it will surely be a sight for the world to see.
during your break, you walk up to satoru tiredly and burrow your face into his chest. he wraps you up immediately, babbling about how insane you were in your scene. you look up at him with those big (e/c) eyes as he runs his hand over the back of your head.
"you think so?"
"baby, my jaw was dropped the entire time. i don't even know how you did that. you played that a little too well."
he's joking, but you still make a face of slight fear, as though you're scared of offending him. "you think it's too much?"
"no- it's a lot, but no- it's perfect. it's bold, and you do it so well."
"it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"
"why would it make me uncomfortable, pretty? i know you're acting, and it's not like you'd ever cheat on me let alone act like that," he tilts his head as a remorseful look flashes through your eyes. "are you uncomfortable?"
"i don't know... i'm just scared of how people will react... mostly because i could never picture saying this stuff to you, and i've had to do a lot of exercises to get into this toxic mindset that just... eugh. trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it."
"have you been able to take long enough breaks?"
"kinda..."
"alright, let's go chill in your trailer 'til your next call. i don't want you stressing your pretty little head about this, princess. you're doing amazing and remember, it's just a movie."
and yes, it's just a movie. a movie that has satoru twitching in his seat during the premiere at how uncomfortably awful you're acting the entire time in the film. by now, you've eased into the feel of things and are rather proud of the work you''ve done, but also happy that it's all over. you hold satoru's hand tight during some of the worst scenes, sneaking glances at him as the screen flickers intensely over his glassy eyes. you can tell he's rather moved by it all, by seeing you in such a position, and you chew harshly on the inside of your lip
when the lights come up, you're given a standing ovation initiated of course by your rather emotional husband, but in his defense, the entire room has tears in their eyes as well. satoru's clapping harshly, and you try to hide your face as grateful tears spring in your eyes, grateful for this opportunity, for your accomplishments, for the support that surrounds you
satoru wraps you in a huge hug and whispers in your ear "don't ever do what you just did in that movie to me," he whimpers, and you laugh loudly because both of you know the thought is inconceivable. "you did so so good, baby. m'so proud of how far you've come"
that night, you shower each other with love. you're wrapped up in each other's limbs, your lips meeting every part of his skin to remind him that you are still you despite the realism of the character you played, and that satoru will always be your one and only you devote yourself faithfully to for the rest of your life. when the two of you have spent yourselves, satoru holds you in the moonlit darkness of your bedroom, arms wrapped around you from behind with your back to his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, then your cheek
"you really liked the movie, toru?" you whisper. "i loved it," he mumbles into your skin. "but, god, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack almost fifty times and that one scene with you at the bar didn't help." "i knew you were gonna say something about that!" "i can't help it, baby, you were just so heartless and scary," he pouts
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fandom#jjk fanfic#anime#jjk#jjk season 2#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#satoru x reader#satoru gojo headcanons#jjk au
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Voguish (Itzy Ryujin)
(Thank you for the commission! I hope its to your liking.)
—————
If you had any other choice, you’d rather be stuck at where you were previously: earning a modest income, just enough to get by from job to job, performing straightforward work, and most importantly, friendly clientele to attend to. It wasn’t surprising; you knew this industry was built on the backs of some of the most snobbish, arrogant people you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, but—
“You’re late. Again.”
Shin Ryujin was probably among the absolute worst.
If you’re going to make an honest assessment, Ryujin isn’t that bad. Serving as her head stylist for the better part of a year, she’s by far the client you’ve spent the most time with. She doesn’t talk a big deal about the money she’s making or prattle into a conversation intricately designed to inflate her ego to the moon, unlike some of the other A-listers you’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working under.
However, her attitude is definitely up there.
It’s not even a little over a minute. In fact, you’ve been standing at her entrance door two minutes before the clock hits ten. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the right; her style, her rules. She doesn’t care that you're sweating buckets rushing her newly minted outfit from across the street up to the 27th floor. Any moment where she doesn’t look like a million dollars is a moment wasted.
“My apologies, Ryu—”
Ryujin’s glare puts the fear of God into your soul. “What did I say about using my name?”
You pause. Gulp your throat. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Shin.”
“Hmph.” Grimacing with disgust, she hastily snatches the dress from your possession, proceeds to slam the door on you, tone bordering on shouting, “Come inside. You’re late.”
Entering the door shortly after, you’re welcomed by a film crew in the process of recording her as she struts around the living room suite holding your dress in her hands. If there’s anything you’ve learned from attending to her, she’s as effortless of an actress as she is as a model. The moment her eyes face the camera, she instantly transforms into the picture perfect icon that has all of social media buzzing.
Moving out of the way has become muscle memory at this point. When she’s in front of the cameras, you’re merely an onlooker.
“So this is my outfit for tonight,” she says enthusiastically into the camera, proudly flaunting the outfit—a convincing facade to the untrained eye. For the press, she’s this likable, larger than life figure living her best life, attending all these invitation-only parties and wearing the most stylish dresses.
“It was a risque design, and I wanted to try something bold for once. It was love at first sight when I saw it,” she comments, and you know very well this wasn’t her first choice. They won’t know that this was the 12th option, handpicked just last night after weeks of trial and error, only to be thrown away right after. At her request, you had it ordered on incredibly short notice, and the plan almost fell through. It was hard to deny Ryujin’s wants, no matter how impractical or unfeasible they were.
In a way, this was to be expected. Ryujin emanates this young, it girl energy. Like any aspiring icon, she usually wants to stand out from a usually safe crowd. Not that it hasn’t stopped you from interfering a handful of times, much to her annoyance. After all, you’d assume she was going to a casual party or some red carpet event, not a prestigious gala with some of the biggest people in the world in attendance. You name it: politicians, CEOs of tech giants, industry titans who make the cover of Forbes and Time every other month. There are high standards that must be kept, and she’s doing anything but uphold those standards.
The camera pans away from her, and she immediately tosses the clothing aside with zero regard whatsoever. You manage to save it before it becomes near valueless. No matter how bothersome she acts, you can’t bring yourself to call her out on her antics; not just because there are several careers at stake, including yours, but you know what she’s capable of doing when her patience exceeds breaking point. It’s a firsthand experience to catch Ryujin in a state that isn’t picture perfect.
“Where are you?” Ryujin shouts from the other room, irate. “Slow as ever, my goodness.”
When you approach her, she’s on her phone, seated in front of the mirror with her legs crossed, having commanded the camera crew to vacate the room, leaving you alone with her. It’s only when you are together that she’s her true self, and it’s not far from what you usually experience even with other people around. They understand it’s in their best interest not to interfere.
Turning her eyes, she catches you idling with her sharp stare. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there and look at me all day? You already do that on the regular.”
Her behavior’s something neither cameras nor testimonies will ever publicly reveal: that Ryujin’s practically a spoiled brat behind closed doors. Any attempts to expose her have been silenced by huge settlements, NDAs, and every legal bind in the book. And when those don’t work out, there’s the strangely coincidental disappearance of potential witnesses that read like every tin-foil hat post written by some gullible conspiracy theorist on the internet.
In retrospect, perhaps there’s some merit to the rumor that her father is supposedly the head of some mafia organization, but you digress. She has never brought her personal history up in interviews, other than she’s been adopted by the founder of a relatively unknown investment firm. An elaborate lie.
She’s engrossed on her phone, unable to keep herself still while you struggle to apply makeup on her face. Time’s of the essence, she usually says, but she’s purposeful with how much time is wasted, with the primary objective of finding an excuse to lay on you. It was never going to be fair from the start. All the moments where you were late, in her eyes, were intentionally done to put you in the wrong.
To be fair, the numerous stylists who’ve taken care of her warned you in advance. You couldn’t deny the opportunity for a huge paycheck.
“Miss Shin, please stay still,” you say, carefully stringing your words together, delivered in the least offensive tone possible.
To your surprise, she complies. It’s a miracle. She never obliges with your requests, let alone direct commands.
Applying the rest of her makeup takes only minutes. Usually, you’d be going back and forth, and you’d be in front of the mirror for hours. See how easier everyone’s job is when all parties cooperate and collaborate effectively? You’re doing your part like it’s second nature; you only wish Ryujin was this accommodating more often, and not whether her brain flips a coin to determine her attitude for the day.
“You look amazing, Miss Shin,” you comment, staring at the mirror, her face radiating with the glow of a million bucks.
Taking her attention off the phone, even if it’s only for a second, proves to be a chore, as proven by her particularly grumpy expression. She scans herself, peers through every little detail in the mirror—showing more interest in herself during this brief moment than her dozens of photoshoots over the last month—and gives the smallest of nods. You even see the tiniest of grins escaping her lips, too.
Her steely attitude unwavering, she commands you, sternly, “Bring me the dress. Now.”
A clap of hands and the door opens like magic. Your co-stylist briskly walks toward you, outfit in hand, promptly handing it over before immediately leaving the room. No words are necessary; she makes it clear who’s allowed to touch her, let alone dress her, and it’s only you. Handling Ryujin was as meticulous and methodical as preserving a historical treasure.
She finally gets off her chair, hands prepared to loosen her robe before something catches her attention. “Door.”
It’s common sense. You hurry over to the opened door, slam it shut. Then the magic happens.
Ryujin nonchalantly slips her bathrobe off her shoulders, letting it freely fall to the floor. She’s draped in nothing but the thinnest of underwear, her asscheeks openly poking through the fabric. It’s amazing how she’s allowing you to see her like this, her barest, when most of her shoots and red carpet dresses have been nothing but conservative. Sometimes seductive, but mostly safe. There’s nothing left for your imagination. On the other hand, you’re so used to this vivid sight, it’s almost part of your daily routine. You shouldn’t be fazed, but her perfect figure has you staring, shamelessly, like it’s your very first time seeing nudity.
At times, it leaves you vulnerable. Like now.
“You were doing quite well too,” she comments, snarkily, gazing at your blank expression through the reflection, snapping you from your daze.
Gulping your throat, you find yourself embarrassed, ears flushed red. Even while you go through the methodical process of measuring and dressing her, the shame lingers. You find yourself unable to glance at the mirror. The very few flashes and glints that meet you when you turn you face your reflection, you find her suppressing a tiny giggle.
As you put on the finishing touches on her outfit, she brings the point home, “We’re already late by an hour.”
A quick look at your watch tells you it’s almost eleven. Ten minutes before the next hour. At first glance, it’s still early, but it can be deceiving. Parisian traffic is notoriously unforgiving, event or no event, showing no partiality. Getting from one place to another is a whole day’s work.
Then you remember the fans and paparazzi congregated at the hotel’s entrance. This crowd that you had to brute force through just to get her dress on time. The hotel security can barely hold them back, and you can hear several sirens screaming miles away, most likely police presence. Many persons of interest will be gathered in one setting, after all.
“How do you feel, Miss Shin?” you ask, taking a step back to let her soak in her meticulously curated appearance.
She blinks rapidly. Then she takes a deep breath.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
—————
Everywhere you look lies nothing but chaos. Chaos and cameras.
Barricade is filled with an indistinguishable mix of both paparazzi and media from all over the world. Lights, whether from above or from cameras, flash in every direction that it’s almost blinding. Deafening shouts pierce through your ears that whispering is impossible. You’ve been to as many red carpet events as these journalists and photographers, but you’ve never attended an event of this magnitude until now.
Left and right, there’s a random celebrity being interviewed by a news junket. The women you spot are dressed to the nines, adorned in colorful and graceful garb, while the men are decked as if they're attending Sunday service. You can see it now: another round of fashion bloggers berating and cursing the men for their simplicity and lack of creativity, but that’s to be expected.
Your phone vibrates from within your shirt pocket. It’s Ryujin, having disappeared somewhere in the crowd.
> Where u at? 😤
You immediately reply back. Your conversations have been practice for your future relationship:
> Can’t find you in this crowd
> Taylor Swift is just across me XD
> Scarlett Johannson too
> And I think I saw Zendaya and Yuna talking with each other, can’t confirm though, they’re far away
To which she answers:
> Stop playing around.
> Get over here NOW
> Do you style any of them?
> You don’t.
> Come here. NOW.
It’s a simple but strong warning. Aside from the fact that you’re there to attend to Ryujin’s needs and not larp as a celebrity, there's a change in her attitude during these events. She becomes strangely more attached. It’s become a byword for you to mention other women around her, yet she interacts with them in a friendly light for the cameras to see.
Ryujin’s preoccupied with what’s presumably the umpteenth interview of many when you finally reunite with her. She takes another moment to pose for the next wave of cameras, picture perfect as always, then after, she finally turns her gaze, meeting yours. It has been ten minutes since her last text, and you have many reasons to say why you’ve vanished.
None of which truly matters.
“There you are.” She says, glaring angrily at you, tone laced with contempt, sounding like you were gone for days.
“I can explain, Miss Shin,” you try to say, but it has no effect as she approaches you, careful as ever to keep a picturesque facade in front of the media. You can see her holding herself back from popping a vein. “Apparently President Biden and his wife are in attendance and we were told to make way for his entire security team—”
The way Ryujin pulls you by the ear while you both retreat from the chaotic crowd is comical. In a sea of cameras and eyewitnesses, some tabloid’s bound to catch you, take the unfolding scene out of context, and write a rushed article that spreads like wildfire, but no, it doesn’t draw an ounce of attention. She's a small fry in a pond of bigger fish, after all. Over your corner, you see a dozen Secret Service slowly guide the president along the carpet, parting everyone around old Joe. In a way, watching him brings you to a strange realization: that you can empathize with the poor geezer. You’re both in the same predicament, being strung along to places you have no zero interest in.
It’s an effective distraction. An air of tense, awkward silence falls upon you both as you stare at each other, your personal conflict hidden away from the public eye. You open your mouth, about to say a word, and—
Whack!
Ryujin hits you with the hardest of palms, all her pent-up frustration released with a single, powerful smack of your cheek. The force echoes throughout the enclosed space like thunder. Your lips draw a little blood. A quick rub of your face reinforces the consequence for your actions. Rough. Still, to say she looks unhappy after enforcing her will upon you is an understatement.
And just when you try to open your mouth (without the intention to complain; you’ve given up at this point), she follows it up with a second slap, with about half the impact of the first. This time, the other cheek. Her gaze is scathing, lethal, hypnotic—as if challenging you to try her already short patience. Say something, motherfucker, is subtly etched on her expressive lips without the need to verbalize them.
Another tense moment of silence. She makes sure your eyes never leave her contact. When it finally breaks, her judgment echoes in your head like the toll of a death bell—a lingering reminder that you’ve truly fucked up.
“You’ll be seeing me after tonight,” she says, each word delivered like an arrow straight to your heart. Before facing the world again, she adds another devastating blow, “My hotel room. Midnight. Sharp.”
—————
For the most part, in the eyes of the public, you seem to have done a fantastic job styling Ryujin for tonight’s gala. Within hours of the event, numerous articles published of the event list her among the best dressed stars, praising the bold nature of her outfit, as she intended in that vlog-style video from earlier. It’s all smiles as you watch her from afar, casually mingling with every celebrity in attendance. In case she needs to remain fresh, have new makeup applied, or change into a new dress for afterparty purposes—sometimes all of the above—you’re closely on standby. Ultimately, she doesn’t; not a single time she has called or texted for assistance. In a way, it’s alarming.
Her reminder sticks firmly on the back of your mind. Every word she says, she means it—no matter how small or big they are. It lingers even as her personal driver and bodyguard messages you with the instruction to return to the car, where she’s mysteriously absent, having been commanded by Ryujin herself to send you and the rest of her personnel home. It’s uncharacteristically strange; either she’s changed her mind and is having a good time at the event, or she’s probably drunk out of her mind, and the latter is typically the norm.
When you retreat to your room, you nervously watch as the clock slowly ticks towards the inevitable. It’s like witnessing your death. You know you can’t stop it, and you can’t look away, either. With the understanding that you’ll likely see the sun rise when it’s all said and done, you don’t even bother to slip into your sleepwear.
The clock turns midnight. Seconds later, you receive a text on your phone. The message. It immediately disproves any theory or hope of meeting her good graces:
> Meet me in my room. Don’t even think about hiding or running, cause I will know
Of course you comply; you really have no other choice.
Five minutes later, you’re at her door again, with nothing but your suit, ready to face her judgment. It swings open of its own accord. Without any formalities, you step inside the familiar living room, now tidied up and cloaked in near darkness—a stark contrast to the mess it looked earlier in the day. Not a sign of her presence can be seen or felt. If you’ve been feeling uneasy before, now you’re straight up anxious, and the terror leaves you pale.
The door slams shut. Now you’re completely in the dark, with nothing to latch or cling to but your own resolve, which is slowly fading too. You want to speak her name, but you know you’ll be trying fate again, and fate has dealt you a cruel hand already. You didn’t want to fall even further.
Your slow breaths are the only sign of life.
And the faint voice in your ear.
Wait—
Before you know it, you feel your throat tense up and your body tremble frantically. Faint shadows coil around your waist and neck, and in that moment, your fate has been sealed.
“At least you’re not late this time.” Ryujin whispers into your ear. Then your eyes snap wide open.
“Agh!”
A powerful surge of pain overwhelms your entire body, renders you weak in the knees. You fall to the ground, barely keeping yourself from completely melting onto the carpet with your hands. Still, the pangs remain too much. You can barely hold up on all fours, let alone move your arms and legs.
It’s not enough. A soft hand hovers across your arched back, brushes through your hair, before it’s immediately followed by a direct blow to your nape. Your shout of agony reverberates throughout the dark room while you’re forced further down on your knees. Nearly forced into a prostrate position, you’re barely holding on. Another hit of this force could knock you unconscious, maybe worse.
“You’re going to learn your lesson today,” says Ryujin, strutting from behind you, cloaked in what appears to be a white gown. She’s holding something that you can’t identify, but you can tell she’s not in the mood to play games. Sparks of electricity flash and fade close to her hand. It was a taser all along. You probably would have guessed that from the intense shocking pain you’re currently feeling.
“Bedroom, slowpoke,” she sternly commands you as she saunters toward the room first, leaving you alone to pick yourself up. You’re still reeling from the two shocks of electricity applied to your waist and neck; it stings. Your body struggles, aches, cries out in despair, but you ultimately muster up enough power to follow her minutes later.
What greets you in the bedroom is a dimly lit bed, with Ryujin as its centerpiece, and both ends of her figure bathed in a faint wave of orange lamp light. She’s draped in nothing but the same hotel-issued bathrobe from earlier, her legs crossed, gazing at you from behind designer shades, smirking with malicious intent. It’s regal, seductive, inviting, intimidating. You honestly could stare at this sight all day long.
Before you entertain the thought, she cuts it off. “Strip.”
Her gaze lingers as you quickly bare yourself in front of her. She grins, giggles, adjusts her glasses with each piece of clothing removed. It flashes at her widest when you’ve divested your shirt and your pants, revealing your chest and your evident bulge, unknowingly growing hard behind the elastic fabric. It seems to spark a new idea within her, even though she’s the type of woman who follows through with her plans after they’ve been organized and premeditated.
She hops off the bed, slowly saunters toward you with trained, modellike fashion, using you as a makeshift catwalk. Turning the corner, she retreats behind your back, gripping a hand on your neck, craning the other down your bare chest. Her tongue tickles the back of your ear, which morphs into the smallest of smooches while she drags you to the bed like a hostage. As she hauls you over the mattress, she continues to feel your skin and body, your ears titillated by the gentle moans and whimpers from her sultry lips.
Your bump knees with the bed before she sends you flying over the edge. Temptation comes knocking at the door of your suppressed lips; you’re itching to cry out in pain, pleading for a bit more consideration. You know it’s a futile effort. When it comes to sex, Ryujin was anything but gentle.
“Don’t look. Stay still.”
Following her command is second nature to you; even when your positions were interchanged, it was merely an illusion—you were never in control. Ryujin plants a palm around your throat, forcing your stare against the bedrest. The clanging sound of something resembling a belt or a buckle keeps you curious. Tense, breaths keep you calm. Deep down, you know what’s about to happen; there’s no stopping it, you can only brace for impact.
In the gap between the point of no return, she tells you her mindstate, how her frustration and apparent jealousy never receded. “I hated every minute I spent there. You have no idea how difficult it was to keep a face in front of everyone, especially after seeing Yuna. Fucking. Yuna.”
Your reaction comes out, not through coherent words, but through a labored groan. You feel her finger circle rings around your ass, sticky and wet. Of course she was there, social media couldn’t stop buzzing about her appearance—and she rarely shows up to these galas. Now it’s all making sense. After all, you were Yuna’s stylist before Ryujin snatched you away.
Ryujin continues to apply lube around your sensitive hole, occasionally fingering you. Holding in the groans from the discomfort proves to be impossible, but she prefers to hear you whine, especially when her name is spoken. It’s the perfect reprieve from the evening’s frustrations, keeping her from raising her voice to the ceiling. “She pisses me off so fucking much. First stealing my thunder at every fashion week, now this? I thought she hated art galas?”
It’s evident that she doesn’t like Yuna in any shape whatsoever. If not for the cameras and all the famous people in the building, she’d already be trading blows with her. If there was any one person she wanted dead, it would have to be Shin Yuna. Of course, knowing this, you never included your time with her on your job application, let alone mention the fact you briefly spoke at the event behind her back. She was in an already spiraling mood, and you didn’t need to make it even worse.
“I was thinking of using dildos for tonight, maybe just my fingers even, but I don’t think it’ll be enough. I really hope you understand.” That last sentence—she sounds apologetic, remorseful, but the warning is ultimately shallow; she’ll rough you up, wreck you, ruin you, and enjoy every moment of it. You’re merely a blank canvas to her twisted fantasies.
“Oh, oh–fuck!” She cries out, joining your deep scream in harmony as she plunges the dildo into your warm, wet hole. This isn’t your first experience on the receiving end of Ryujin’s strap, yet every plunge feels as destructive and spine breaking as the first. No pleasantries or formalities, just apply the lube then hit. The idea of teasing you goes against her very blunt, assertive nature.
“Shit—oh fucking shit, you’re so goddamn tight,” she says, snaking a hand around your waist as her plastic dick slowly penetrates your hole, little by little. She has you grasping at pillows, staring at the ceiling then down to the sheets, until you find the twisted image of her hips slowly pounding against your ass, letting the pleasure of pegging overwhelm her. It should be excruciatingly painful, an agonizing reminder to never get on her wrong side, but no, there’s something hot about getting dicked by a tough woman like her that arouses you.
Eventually, she comes to her senses, finds her footing, and remembers that she’s meant to punish you, not reward you. She knows how good you make her feel, even if your cock is meant to be inside hers, not the other way around. You can’t help speaking your mind, and it boosts Ryujin’s ego to the moon. “Please. Fucking use me, Miss Shin. Fucking ruin my hole like how I ruin yours, miss.”
Even upside down, you can see how visibly delighted she is to hear those words every single time. Can’t hide that wide smirk plastered on her lips, no matter how upset she is. It’s intoxicating. No matter how hard you’re huffing, the pleasure she derives from using you keeps you going.
Slamming your eyes shut, Ryujin does what you both want. Fucks you with her dildo hard, clenches and quelches with each careful, intricate stroke. Sometimes you’re in that position, taking her ass and ravaging her body as your own. Now it’s her turn, and she’s been taking after you. Between thrusts, she slaps your cheek, pulls on your neck and hair. You’ve built this alarmingly toxic work relationship, but the sex has never felt this invigorating, so cathartic. The perfect use of frustration to be channeled into something pleasurable and rapturous.
You’ve never seen Ryujin this focused, this committed to wrecking you. She’s using your hole with such ferocity you think she’ll make you bleed out. Behind those glazed, pleasure-filled eyes, she sees nothing but red. Difficult as it is, you follow a string of moans from her lips hidden beneath a continuous echo of groans from your end. It doesn’t help that these walls are thin and everyone on this floor can hear your escapades.
Neither of you care. There’s a good reason as to why she booked the whole floor to begin with.
The bed quakes, and quakes, and quakes—until it doesn’t.
A puzzlingly calm fills the room after countless minutes pass. Ryujin’s frantic breaths close the silent gap, having pulled the dildo from your hole. It’s slick. You realize the change of pace.
“Miss Shin, why did you stop?”
She doesn’t reply immediately. When she does, she’s still catching her breath between spoken words. “I told you—it wasn’t going to be enough. Lay down for me, will you?”
Without a second thought, you comply. This gives you an opportunity to truly see her in the flesh for the first time tonight. She’s wearing a combination of corset and lingerie, her juicy thighs layered with lace garter. Hopping off the bed, she unbuckles the strap around her waist, tossing it aside to the floor. You then focus on her plump ass, accentuated by her slim thong.
Damn, she looks better now than she does naked. You feel proud that she’s wearing your tailor-made lingerie.
Before you entertain the thought of undressing the very underclothes you’ve prepared for her, she slips the boxers off your ankles. She climbs onto the bed, stands atop you. Even with her short stature, in this position, she’s larger than life, a dominating presence that only desires complete control.
“Hmm, I don’t know what I should do. I could let you fuck me, but that doesn’t sound right for a punishment,” she comments, playfully placing a finger on her chin, jokingly thinking. For a brief moment, it does appear that she’s stumped.
When the idea hits her, her eyes widen, and she has this self-conceited look, as if she’s got it all planned out.
She reaches a hand down to her knee, slowly peels one of the stockings down to her ankles. Then she does the same for the other half. The way she positions both legwear on your cock is intentional; it’s to stir the idea of pounding into her cunt a real possibility. Your gaze remains fixated on Ryujin’s face, ever flawless in her scantily-clad figure, being her model self atop you.
As she tugs on the lace of her panties, you start reacquainting your mind with the image of her tight cunt. She lowers it, barely down her thighs, enough space to tease, enough to make your heart race. Her attention is nowhere close to you; she has other priorities, and fingering herself is one of them. She rubs a digit around her heat, moans out in ecstasy with the same energy as getting fucked. The trembles of her body send aftershocks that reverberate all over the bed.
It’s already hot enough to get fucked by Ryujin’s strap, but this—the sight of Ryujin pleasuring herself, mouth gaped wide open—is a hundred times better. This is the same reaction she has shown throughout the numerous times you’ve railed her, even though you’ve seen that face during sex. Against the mirror, against the water’s reflection, against the tinted windows of her cars—her face serves as motivation that keeps you hard whenever she demands it. Your hands begin to move on their own, reach down to the groin unknowingly, unsure of whether she’d want you to masturbate or not.
You feel your hard cock, already partially soaked with precum, dripping on her garter. As much as you want to keep them on, you can’t go against the deep seated urge to masturbate with her. Her foot begins to lean against your waist, right as you begin to stroke your shaft with your fingers. Moaning alongside her, you thrust your hips upward, passionately murmuring her name, with nothing but a singular thought: her pussy.
It’s etched on your needy lips. “You’re so sexy, Miss Shin. Please let me fuck you, God—”
She whines as though your hot breath is against her neck, growling a tone higher than normal. Her left foot is slowly clenching around your balls, the other at the bridge between your thigh and your crotch, gently nudging your free hand to move aside. She’s beginning to apply pressure on you, perhaps a subtle gesture to make you stop and give way for her feet to take over, but you’re engrossed in the moment to fully realize. Then again, subtlety isn’t her speciality.
It’s only when her foot presses down on your active hand that you slow to a complete halt. You gently rest her soles on your shaft, slowly wrap her soft toes around your tip. For the most part, their grip is shaky, but when they stick, they feel so slick, so warm, and significantly better than whatever effort your fingers can muster. She can’t wear heels without a few kisses placed on them, you recall; something about being Cinderella growing up, how she prefers to be treated, to receive nothing but showers of praise and attention, and you’re doing just that.
Her digits seemingly acknowledge what they’re stepping on, and soon enough it becomes the perfect makeshift ring to stimulate your cock. Her toes just feel the best, most direct spots around your sensitive shaft, gradually building momentum for when you eventually paint her pretty feet. At least, that’s the goal. You’re both drowning in pleasure, chasing separate highs, but using each other’s bodies as conduit for your own personal gain.
And it’s not that she doesn’t know; she knows. You’ve caught a glimpse of her half-lidded eye peeking down. She sees it, merely chuckles at the notion, and continues to finger herself atop your helpless body. Mutual trust brings you together; she won’t stop you as long as you won’t do the same to her.
“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard,” you say, breaths hurried, and it isn’t a matter of if, but when. “Every part of you feels so good, Ryu.”
You’re past formalities at this point. She’s too far gone to care that you've called her by her casual name. Her fingers, both slick and warm at once, are catching fire from the frenzied pace she’s rubbing her clit, certain her dripping juices will find solace on your splayed figure. Racing with her orgasm, her underwear is halfway down her meaty legs, her very foundations shaking. Inadvertently pressing her foot tightly on your cock, she’s holding on for dear life, and it threatens to steal your soul before you reach that immaculate high.
With friction at an all-time high, one rough, slippery slip between her toes, all while your loins burn , moving as if you’re burying yourself deep in her cunt, eager to fill her with seed. The thin thread snaps. Sends you careening over the edge.
Your fall is accompanied by the endless scream of her name. To have your cock be graciously drained by her feet, it would be disrespectful not to. She’s still going, chasing that high even as your cum geysers all over her feet, spills over your knees, your belly, on the sheets, as if her own slick didn’t already make an utter mess of this five-star bed. You’re mentally cheering her on, distracting yourself from the endless cascade of seed gushing beneath you.
This disastrous mess finds you again, this time in the form of Ryujin’s orgasm. She orgasms, cries her loudest cry, her features at their most corrupted. Her pussy gushes like a rushing waterfall, completely soiling her legs and panties with her slick juices. Your groin manages to salvage whatever her thighs haven’t absorbed, and it’s a sticky pool that latches onto her dainty feet. When she steps off your cock, the squelch of wet seed splatters on the sheets until she touches the ground.
You both take some time apart, let the aftermath of your orgasms fizzle out. Ryujin assesses the damage to her body; she’s still a model, after all. She hastily rids of the soiled underwear, treating it like some kind of contaminated object that can only be cleansed by fire. From the looks of it, she’s committed something dangerous, and you’ve done something scandalous.
“Shit. We got carried away,” you say, lifting your head from the bed, panicked.
“No. You got carried away,” she replies, facing you with that familiar icy gaze. The honeymoon period is over. “Did I allow you to plant my feet on your cock? Huh?”
Swallowing your throat, you understand that she’s technically right, but also, she most certainly enjoyed the feeling of stepping on you—something you can use against her. Still, Ryujin’s word overrides all reasoning, no matter how logical they are.
You see her facade fall apart when she approaches you again. She climbs onto the bed like a cat, arches her back, and sends you back down to the mattress when she pounces on you. On her lips is the widest smirk you’ve ever seen on her.
She wants more.
Rising to her feet, she plants her toes directly on your chin, oozing with the remains of your cum mixed with hers. “You did this, now you’ll clean it up.”
As your tongue laps it up, she occasionally disrupts your rhythm by kicking you several times. Not that you’re hurting her (you couldn’t even if you tried) but for the delight of bringing you misfortune. It’s completely in line with the typical abuse and inhumane treatment you face from her during work hours. You won’t complain, but that was never in the cards, anyway.
“I can’t believe my stylist is a complete freak. Fucking hell,” she comments, glaring you down as you give her toe the occasional kiss. She’s visibly disgusted by the realization sinking in, but deep down, she knows you’re the exact stylist she’s been looking for.
—————
And as if that’s not enough, she’s found a punishment perfectly suited for you.
“Just so you know, you’re not getting paid after the stunt you pulled on me today,” says Ryujin, in reference to your accidental disappearance during the red carpet. You’re laid out on the floor, prone, your groans stifled by the living room carpet. Meanwhile, her feet tread all over your bare back at a steady tempo, leaving what could have easily been hickeys red marks and footprints on your skin.
“How long do I have left, Miss Shin?” you ask, voice almost indiscernible.
“About ten minutes,” she replies, looking out the hotel room window, watching dawn slowly break over the Parisian sky. “Don’t ever disappoint me again, do you understand? Freak.”
——————
(A/N: First commissioned work complete! Definitely exploring elements out of my specialty, did you expect her to peg OC? Fun dynamic to write, thank you for reading!)
(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can send me a commission :D)
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To New Friends | JJH (M)
Corporate AU, Strangers to lovers (?), Younger Jaehyun x older fem reader
Summary: You really hate having to go to formal events. The people, environment, joverall experience is never pleasant. Having to constantly deal with being undermined as a woman and CEO is something no one should have to deal with, but here you are, forced to deal with it anyway. You were sure your night would be horrible, that is until you bumped into Jaehyun, who not only happened to be a new face, but just your type.
Warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (male and fem receiving), snowballing, cum eating, spit, sexism/misogyny, harassment (if you would call it that, proof read but may contain errors my bad y'all)
Word count: 5,3 k
Song recs: perfume, kiss by NCT djj, on the way by Jhene Aiko
A/N: been a bit obsessed with Jaehyun and wanted to write about him. Got a bit carried away a bit too delusional so this is the product of that. This is pure filth I'm so sorry. Feedback is loved and appreciated
Charity events were never really your thing. The pleasantries, snobby sexist businessmen, and their annoying wives. You always hated them. All of them were just ways for rich narcissists to make it seem like they had compassion, but everyone knew it was just as fucked up as anything else. None of these people ever cared for the cause, just how much they were putting into it.
However, the hardest thing about these events is being a successful single woman. You take pride in not being taken although people your age tell you it's about time you settle down and start a family. You don't really like the idea of not working and giving up a career you worked hard for over some snotty nose kid and a man who probably would cheat on you anyway. It's an extremely pessimistic way of looking at marriage, but you couldn't help it, especially seeing how all of your friends' relationships are at the moment.
But sometimes, you did wish you had an interesting life, like right now. Right now you were stuck in a conversation with 2 CEOs and their wives going on and on about their children in private schools across the globe. You twirled your drink in your glass leaning on your elbow as you stood across from them.
"But Y/N..you aren't looking for anyone right now," Rosé asked. She was the wife of a powerful man who owned one of the biggest tech companies in the world. She was also the fakest person you've ever met. You didn't like her and thank God the feeling was mutual.
"No, I'm not. I prefer to focus on working right now," you answered. You sipped your drink without breaking eye contact with her. She knew exactly what she was doing, constantly trying to embarrass you.
"You said that last time honey. Don't you want to..rest for a while? Find someone to take care of you? I mean, you're beautiful, so it shouldn't be too hard," she replied.
"I like working. And I can take care of myself." The table got quiet, sensing the attitude you didn't mean to let slip out. "Anyway, I'm going to go greet other guests. Have a good night."
Just as you turned around, you practically walked into a wall of a man, spilling your drink on your off-white dress.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," he said. It was a voice you didn't recognize. You looked up at him, surprised at the handsome sight your eyes were met with. He was blonde and tall. His voice was a bit deep for his appearance.
"It's.. it's okay," you said, trying not to show how irritated you were.
"I'll go get something for you to clean up with." He turned around and walked away quickly. You watched him as he begged the kitchen staff for napkins, ears red from the embarrassment. When he came back, he handed them to you with both hands.
'Polite,' you thought to yourself. "Thank you," you said, flashing him a quick smile. "I'm Y/N by the way. It's nice to meet you."
"I'm Jaehyun," he said, watching you wipe your dress. "Do you come to these things often?"
"These events? Well, I have to, considering my job. But If I'm gonna be honest, I don't really like them," you said, whispering at the end of your statement.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, looking down at you. "Tell me about it. I can't stand these things either."
"At least we have something in common. Well, it was nice to meet you Jaehyun," you said with a small smile. You walked away before letting him respond, almost as if you were running away from the conversation. He was handsome, a little too handsome, and really well-spoken too. And for the first time, someone finally spoke to you like a regular person. But of course, you didn't want to give him the impression that you were trying to flirt when he was just being nice. That's what you tell yourself all the time - that they're just trying to be nice - no matter how many times they ask you for your number or ask you on dates.
No one knew, but another reason you didn't want to get married is that you had no interest in having a trophy husband. Most men who try and get with you are often just looking for someone to sink their manipulative claws into. They thought that because you're beautiful and rich, you must've killed an old husband for it. But whenever you tell them about how you busted your ass since your teenage years to get where you are, they're no longer interested. You aren't well known amongst your run-of-the-mill businessmen, so they take you as a joke until they actually google you. You found it comical how many of them text you saying they were sorry and begging you to go out with them again. But after a while, dating and trying to talk to people really did become exhausting, so you just decided to not do it anymore. And it's been that way for 4 years now.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lee! How are you guys?" You shook both of their hands with a smile, trying to hide how much you wanted the interaction to be over.
"We're good. You know we just had another kid," Taeyong announced.
"Oh really? Congratulations!"
"Thank you..and I see you're here alone again unless that," Irene said pointing to the wet stain on your dress," was made by someone I assume."
"Oh, this? I bumped into someone, that's all," you answered. You were sure they knew you were getting more and more annoyed with how Taeyong's eyes shifted between you and his wife.
"A shame. I was almost excited to see someone here with you but alas..the ice queen will never melt." Irene's eyes were always judgmental. You knew she thought she was better than you with all her expensive dresses and jewelry, constantly trying to flaunt her possessions and family in front of you and other people.
'What a bitch,' you thought to yourself. You flash her a small smile, twirling the drink from your glass. "I do hope you guys have a good night, and I hope you figure out your son's scandal. Buying test scores isn't something I'd want to be accused of."
You walked off seeing Irene's ticked-off expression. 'Serves that bitch right.' Taking a sip of your champagne, you spotted Jaehyun talking to a group of men, some of whom have tried to get with you in the past. You shouldn't have stared but you couldn't help it. He was the first man you actually found yourself attracted to out of all the single men in these events. You watched and sipped your drink, staring at him as he laughed and smiled. 'He has dimples?' you caught yourself thinking. "I need a stronger drink." Just as you were about to walk away, the one person you didn't want to see spotted you.
Jaehyun motioned for you to come to him from across the room. Being the nice person you are, you walked up to him and the other men. "Hey," you said, glancing at the group of them awkwardly.
"I know we just met but I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends," he said.
"We've.. already met before," you laugh awkwardly.
"Yeah. She's not very nice," Mingyu commented. His eyes went from your face to your cleavage which was showing a bit in the low-cut dress. "But who needs to be nice when you're dressed like that?"
Mingyu and the other men snickered at your fading smile, nudging each other to look at your expression. Jaehyun took notice, clearing his throat and gaining their attention. "Guys, chill out."
"Or what, she can't take a little joke?" Mingyu scoffed and sipped his drink, staring at you, daring you to say something. Little did he know you weren't scared of anyone, and you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed by anyone either.
"You know what? Yeah, it was a bit funny," you said nodding. "You wanna know what else is funny?"
Mingyu raised his brow, clicking his tongue. "I'm listening."
"I think it's funny how you had to close 5 of your 15 stores already because of how poorly they're doing." You covered your face letting out a fake laugh. All the men looked at you, none of them amused anymore, especially Mingyu. "What's with the serious faces? I thought we were telling jokes."
"You're miserable really," he said, turning away from you, and walking away. "No wonder no one wants you. You're gonna end up dying alone."
"As long as it's not with you." You let out a big sigh as he and his other friends got farther away from you. You've always had a sharp tongue and quick remarks never letting anyone catch you off guard. It was something you had to learn for survival in the corporate world, especially as a woman.
"I'm really sorry about him," Jaehyun said, tongue poking his cheek in annoyance.
You turned to him, surprised to see he was still there. "Oh no, don't apologize. You seem so nice. Why are you friends with people like that anyway?"
"I'm a bit new to stuff like this," he admitted. "I've never been in an environment with such successful people, so I just became friends with anybody."
You chuckled softly at his words, finding his naiveness endearing. "If you want advice from someone who's been here for a while, I'd say don't become friends with just anyone."
"And what if I wanna be your friend?"
You look at him immediately being faced with his dimples. 'Gosh, he's cute.' "Then I'd be grateful," you said.
He raised his glass, fixing his suit jacket with his other hand, proposing a toast. "To making new friends?"
You clung your glass with him with a smile nodding. "To making new friends."
-
It's been 2 hours since the event started and usually at this point you would've gone home, but this was unfortunately the most important event of the year, so you had to stay. If you didn't, you would probably get a very angry email from the board of your company again, and you didn't feel like dealing with any of that.
In situations like this, you usually went outside, but the location of this event was a million-dollar penthouse. Thankfully, there was a balcony with a pool that too many people were afraid they would fall into. You were leaning on the ledge of the glass fence staring out into the view of the city. Even at night, it looked like daytime. No one stopped for anything or anyone, always fast-paced no matter what. If you knew that's what your life would look like years ago, you probably would've just pursued something lowkey. But you worked hard and weren't going to stop now.
"You been out here for a long time?"
You turned around to see Jaehyun walking up to you. He held his suit jacket in his arm, his other hand stuffed in his pocket. He was buff, buttons straining against his chest. You gulped, not being able to control your obvious staring. 'How was he hiding all that under his suit,' you thought to yourself.
"No, just for a couple of minutes. It gets kind of suffocating sometimes," you admitted.
Jaehyun came up next to you, leaning on the fence as he stared into the city lights. He had such a well-defined face, a jawline sharper than diamonds. He's probably the most handsome man you've ever seen. If you had more to drink, you'd probably fall right into his lap by now.
"I feel you. What..do you do by the way," he asked, looking away from the view and at you.
"I own Jasmine Marketing Company," you answered. Your company is one of the most famous marketing companies in the country, and you basically did it all by yourself. Being a woman in her mid-30s with an establishment as big as this one is rare, but you happened to do it. You don't like to announce who you are because people treat you differently, but you don't mind doing it if you have to put someone in their place.
Jaehyun's eyes went wide, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Woah..didn't expect that."
"Why? Did you think I was gonna say something like 'Oh I'm blah blah's wife' or that I own some fashion brand," you joked.
"Oh, no. I didn't mean it like that." He panicked, letting out a big sigh before looking down at his feet. Jaehyun's head shot up when he heard you laugh, voice lighting up the quiet balcony.
"I was just kidding. I know you didn't mean it that way, it's okay," you said, comforting him.
Jaehyun smiled, letting out a laugh in disbelief. "Goodness, you are really something," he commented, a bit more relaxed.
You turned your body to him, arm leaning on the railing for support. Jaehyun might've been nice and well-mannered, but on the surface, he was just a man. It was taking everything in him to not look at your chest. Being the smart woman you are, you notice it. "It's okay. I won't get mad at you," you said quietly.
"W-what are you talking about?" Jaehyun gulped, biting his lip nervously.
"I mean.." you took a step closer to him, so close he could smell your floral scent perfume. "You can look. I won't get mad."
It wasn't like you to be this bold, but after a couple of glasses of champagne and constantly being talked to by people you didn't like, the least you could do was treat yourself to the nervous new guy.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, trying to cover up how flustered he was. "I'm not gonna fall for that." Jaehyun would like to think of himself as a smart man. He knows what he should do and what he shouldn't despite being given permission to do so. He's dealt with many women but none like you. You're confident and quick, but never let your guard down. And that's how you wanted to keep it.
You smirked, turning back to lean on the railing. "I like you Jaehyun," you commented. "Most men would look, and then proceed to think that means they could touch me. It's annoying."
"Well, I'm not like most men."
You smiled, moving your hair from your face. "You know, it's kind of rare to see a fresh face among all these old people," you admitted. "For the first time in a while, I can say I had a little fun tonight."
Maybe, just maybe, there was something here right now, between the 2 of you. It's so cliche. He bumps into you making you spill your drink over your dress, defends you from his annoying friends, and is now talking to you instead of making connections at a charity event. He's handsome with pretty blonde hair and nice dimples, and a body to go with it too. This night was almost too perfect for you. You hadn't felt a spark with anyone for a very long time, not wanting to get with just anyone.
"Why? Because of me," he asked, joking. Jaehyun's smile dropped a bit when you nodded.
"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking," you asked.
"I'm the CEO of Jeong Enterprises," he answered.
"Really," you asked, a bit shocked. "But you're so.."
"Young? Yeah I know. Took over for my father a couple of years back," he answered with a sigh.
You know Mr. Jeong, but you never met his son. He's a nice man with very strong values, always talking about how much he loves his family, and how much he wants them to succeed. Years ago, he got sick and hasn't been able to manage the company head-on. Mr. Jeong said he was going to appoint a new CEO, but you never would've guessed it was his son.
"It's not as easy as people make it look. I mean having to pick up from where he started was hard, but I would say I've done a pretty good job," he admitted, a small smile on his face.
"You have."
Jaehyun looked at you, mouth a bit open trying to form a response but failing. You couldn't help but glance at his lips, then his neck, and trail your eyes down his body. You were sure he noticed, but he could pick up a hint right? But maybe he couldn't, so maybe you should apply some more pressure.
"For someone who doesn't come to these things often, you look great," you complimented.
"Oh, thank you. You look..great too," he said, nodding his head as he looked away from you.
"Great? That's all I get?"
"Well you look beautiful," he said, trying to change his words.
"So you think I'm beautiful," you teased. You gave him a small laugh seeing how flustered he was. "Well, I think you're very handsome."
Jaehyun watched you intently as you took a step towards him, looking at him with doe eyes. He gulped, not really knowing what to do. He had a feeling you were going to try and do something reckless, and by the time he could say no, he would already have done it.
"You're too kind," he said, shaking his hair from his face.
"Goodness, you're cute. I wanted to keep the flirting to a minimum but I can't help it. You're really something," you said. All that was happening at the moment was a bad case of word vomit, but you really couldn't stop yourself. It'd been a long time since you were this attracted to a person, so you had to let it be known.
Jaehyun gave you a small chuckle looking at you as he licked his lips, brushing his hair back. Jaehyun really didn't know if he should give in to your advances knowing you were probably saying all of this because of how many drinks you had, but after all, he is just a man. "Well, people don't usually find me cute after first meeting me, so you're a first."
"What do they usually say?"
"They say I look like I'm great in bed." Jaehyun eyed you, gaze shifting from pleasant to lustful in less than a second. Your lips curled into a smile as you cocked your head to the side.
"Well..are you?"
"There's only one way to find out." To anyone who might've been looking at the both of you from afar, it looked like you were having a normal conversation. But the tension between you and him was so thick, it would probably startle some people you know. Your presence was so dominating to him, but you liked how he wasn't intimidated by you.
"I didn't think you had it in you. You were so shy and careful a couple of minutes ago. What happened to that," you teased.
"Trust me, I have a lot of things in me you don't know about." His voice was low, sending a shiver down your spine, right to your core. Goodness, he was hot. You're surprised he never got into a love scandal with the way he's talking to you.
"Would it be unprofessional of me to say I would like to find out?" By this point, you were definitely too far gone to back off now. It was a bit unlike you - the woman who kept all her ducks in one row - to fuck someone the night she met them, but Jaehyun was too good to be true. It's rare to come across someone who's exactly your type, so you can't let this go to waste.
"I'd like you to find out," he answered.
You stepped closer, chest in his as you leaned into his ear. "Meet me upstairs in 15 minutes," you whispered and walked away. Jaehyun watched you, the click of your heels getting further and further as you walked back inside.
-
Jaehyun attached his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I hope you don't mind the lipstick," you muttered.
Your lips smashed onto his as you pressed him against the wall, holding his face in your hands. Jaehyun tugged off his suit jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor beside you. The light was low in the room, the only source of light coming from the moonlight shining through the gigantic window of the empty room. Your lipstick was probably all over his face by now, so there was no way either one of you was coming out of this room unscathed.
He pulled away from you, planting kisses on your neck. He lowered his hands in response, cupping your ass firmly as you moaned softly. You removed your arms from his neck and loosen his tie wanting to see more of him. He inhaled the scent of your perfume, taking in everything about you all at once.
"I want you in my mouth. How does that sound," you asked, eyes closed in pleasure.
"Sounds like heaven." Jaehyun lifted his head, letting go of you as you sunk onto your knees. His eyes never left your hands as you unbuckled his belt, hands moving fast and clumsily. Jaehyun couldn't help but smile. He's been with a lot of women, but no one older. He always felt like older women weren't his type, but here he was about to get blown off by one.
You unzipped his slacks, tugging his neatly tucked shirt out of the fabric. You tugged his clothes down quickly, unable to hide your excitement when you saw his hardened length.
"Fuck," you mumbled. You grabbed his length, stroking it slowly, and bit your lip. Looking up at him, you swore his eyes rolled back from the simple touch. Jaehyun's eyes never left yours as you started to stroke him faster.
You kissed the tip of his length, tongue softly digging into the slit. Jaehyun let out a low grunt, brows furrowing at the sudden feeling. You removed your hand slowly as you sunk his length into your mouth. You bobbed your head, staring into his pretty brown eyes. Your hand gripping the hem of your dress nails sinking into your palms through the thin fabric.
Jaehyun's hand reached the back of your head, following your rhythm. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him harder, moaning softly.
"You're so pretty on your knees," he muttered. His eyes were glossed with pleasure, unable to care about the many voices and footsteps that come a little too close to the door. "I bet it'd turn you on even more if someone happens to walk in here."
You whined softly in response. You bobbed your head faster brows furrowing at how full your mouth was. Pleasuring him was turning you on even more, so when you opened your legs and crept your hands under your dress, Jaehyun was in absolute awe. You weren't wearing anything underneath and he could tell how easy it was for you to start fingering yourself. You pumped your fingers in and out of you matching the pace of your bobbing head.
Jaehyun moaned softly, mouth falling slightly as you moved your head faster. His eyes shifted from your face to your hands stuffed between your legs not knowing where to look. You pulled your mouth off of him slowly, droll falling down your chin, the only thing connecting you to him being a string of spit.
"Cum on my chest," you said, voice a bit raspy.
Jaehyun grabbed himself, stroking his length quickly. His soft moans turned into gentle whines. The scene was right out of a movie, him standing over you moaning as you touched yourself on your knees in front of him - so many people would pay to see it. Jaehyun's brows furrowed, throwing his head back feeling closer and closer to his orgasm. "Fuck, oh my god."
And with that, he came all over your chest, the hot sticky liquid staining your skin. Your lips curled into a smile as you bit your lip, still pumping your fingers in and out of your core. You pulled them out of you slowly and came to your knees. You never looked away as you stuck your fingers in his mouth, watching him as he sucked your arousal off your fingers.
"That's so fucking hot," you said, a smirk on your face. "And you even managed to keep my dress clean."
He took your fingers out of his mouth, letting out a soft chuckle. "I don't know if it'll still be clean when I'm finished with you."
"So finish me."
Jaehyun couldn't control himself when he pushed you into the wall and pulled up your tight dress. His lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses all over your skin. "Fuck, you smell so good," he groaned. Jaehyun was in way too deep with you now, his tongue gliding from your neck to your chest.
If you had underwear on, they would probably be soaked by now. You watched him as he licked up his own cum, immediately kissing you right after. You couldn't get enough of the taste of his arousal as you kissed him moaning softly into his mouth.
"Don't wear a condom," you mumbled on his lips.
"Wasn't planning to." Jaehyun lifted your body, pinning you on the wall. You wrapped your arms around him, legs being held by him. You let out a breathy moan feeling yourself sinking into his length.
"Jesus Christ," you moaned quietly. Jaehyun held you with a strong grip on your thighs, so strong you were sure they would leave prints. He rocked his hips into you slowly, every moment bringing out a small groan from him.
"God, you're so big," you whispered, a smile spreading across your face in pleasure.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, kissing your neck. You looked so pretty to him, face lit up by the moonlight moaning his name. Your smile lights up your whole face, too perfect to look away from. He wanted to wipe that smile off your face. He wanted to fuck you so good, you wouldn't even be able to talk.
Your hand tangled in his hair as he fucked you slow against the wall, a small gasp escaping your lips with every thrust. Your lipstick is all over every part it shouldn't be, but that's what made this even better. The thrill of doing something you weren't. As much of a rule follower you were, you've always enjoyed breaking the rules sometimes, even if it was as risky as this. And fortunately for you, this was one rule Jaehyun broke with you.
Jaehyun thrust into you faster, making your body bounce at the same pace. The smile faded, and your jaw dropped at the pleasure that shot through your body. "That's it," he cooed. "It feels good doesn't it?"
"Y-yeah," you moaned out quietly.
"You take me so well baby." The praise made you go crazy, making you nod your head fast. You could barely form a coherent sentence at this point, not when he was fucking you this good. With every movement, your sensitive bud brushed against his skin making your head spin. You leaned in, kissing him deeply, tongues tangling with each other. You clenched around him, making him moan against your lips. "Fuck.."
"I'm so close," you whined against his lips. All that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping and the sound of your soft moans.
"Can you wait for me?"
You shook your head, unable to form a coherent sentence. You looked down at where the both of you were connected, mind unable to focus on anything else. "Jaehyun..fuck I'm so close.."
"You're doing so good," he breathed out. "Just a bit more."
"F-fuck I can't.." You whined loudly feeling your entire body tense up under his touch. You clenched around him as you came, making him moan softly into your neck.
Jaehyun kept fucking into you, feeling himself coming closer and closer to his orgasm. He gripped your hips legs harder as he fucked into you at an unsteady pace. Soon enough, he threw his head back, brows furrowed, biting his lip to keep the loud groan from reaching the ears of the people outside the door as he came inside you. Feeling weak, Jaehyun put you back onto your feet carefully, the sound of breathing and your heels clicking on the floor filling the room. But before you could even register what just happened, Jaehyun disappeared right in front of you, dropping to his knees.
"W-what are you doing," you whispered softly.
"I'm not done." Jaehyun's voice was tired and raspy, sweat dripping down his forehead. He grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. Jaehyun wasted no time attaching his mouth to your core looking up at you with lust filled eyes. He lapped licked and sucked your clit hard, lapping up the mixture of both of your arousal.
You could barely stand how badly he was abusing your sensitive bud. You leaned against the wall trying to keep your balance as Jaehyun gripped your hips. "Oh my god," you whimpered, breathy moans sounding like music to his ears. Everything was overstimulating you, the feeling of his tongue, the eye contact - the sounds he was making - it was driving you crazy.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum." Your breathing was so loud, you were basically heaving trying to keep yourself from moaning too loud.
"Cum, and keep those pretty eyes on me." Jaehyun moaned as he licked you up, his half opened eyes never leaving you. Your jaw dropped, a gasp that was a little too loud leaving your mouth reaching the ears of someone outside as soon as you came.
"What was that," you heard someone ask.
You clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle whatever noises were coming out as he lapped up your arousal. Jaehyun removed your leg from his shoulder, holding you so your weak body wouldn’t fall. You gulped as he removed your hand from your mouth, not knowing what he was about to do next.
"Open up." Jaehyun grabbed your jaw and brushed his finger against your lip. A smirk was plastered on his face as he let a ball of cum and saliva fall from his tongue and onto yours, his smirk becoming wider when you let out a soft whine. "Swallow."
Eyes never leaving your, he watched you so what he said, kissing you right after. He held your face in his hands while kissing you passionately.
"That was..fucking amazing," you mumbled on his lips.
"You were amazing." He moved his hands from your face, moving them directly to your ass. "That was the most fun I've had in ages."
"That was the most fun I've had in my life," you replied, chuckling softly. "I thought you were bluffing when you said you were good."
"Yeah, I might've gotten a bit carried away." Jaehyun's eyes scanned over your body taking in the mess he made of you at the very formal event. "I'm sorry for that," he said, glancing at your cleavage.
"I'm sorry about the lipstick everywhere," you said laughing softly at the red smeared all over his face. "I don't know how we're gonna make it out of here."
"I could always give you my jacket and we can make a run for it," he joked.
You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck with a smile. "I think I'd like to stay here for a little bit longer. I hate these events."
Jaehyun kissed you softly, nipping at your lip. "Round 2? I don't think you can keep up with me."
"I'm better at showing you than telling you."
"So show me."
#nct#nct 127#nct u#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct x reader#nct oneshot#nct imagines#nct jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun fanfic#jaehyun scenarios#nct scenarios#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader
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Re: VIKTOR & ROLF Couture Fall/Winter 2024
I know fashion, especially couture, is meant to be an expressive and exploratory art. I think the exploration of geometry in fashion, silhouettes, and textures here is really neat! But I am unfamiliar with the designer - is there more to those pieces than meets the eye?
Sometimes there is less evident meaning in a collection to those who don't spend a lot of time and study in the industry. Where would you recommend going for more information on current collections?
If you remember these dresses from last year, Viktor & Rolf have been having a very interesting conversation about current fashion trends and the intersection of the cultural zeitgeist. Structuralism is big in fashion right now, arguably the biggest since Antoinette did her shit. A bunch of designers are fucking around with pushing the limits of what is possible to be worn on the body in a very literal sense, treating garments as almost like physics theorems to be solved. Textile sciences, 3d modeling, etc--it's all being used to make dresses that are more fiendishly complex than the last, than arguably we've ever been able to make.
And Viktor & Rolf specifically seem to be having a very purposeful dialogue of the absurdity of it in the face of what beauty standards are "supposed" to be, what high fashion is "supposed" to be. Their works have always relied heavily on pushing those boundaries and the current couture tech boom is just enabling a lot of their weirdness, which is absolutely fantastic to watch.
I would argue that their 2024 FW collection is specifically exploring what it means to be prioritizing those structuralist tendencies over the actual bodies they're being worn on. It's a conversation piece going back to the old hack question: "Who would ever want to wear this?". The harsh geometries make most of the collection entirely infeasible and impractical for actual wear. No celebrity is gonna want to sit at the Met wearing any of these. Their only value is...what, exactly? Where IS the value coming from? Why do we consider Viktor & Rolf as high fashion icons if the dresses they keep making seem to be actively infeasible for even their "intended" purpose as red carpet event shit? What happens to the fashion industry when the ability to make whatever you want no longer requires it to be intended to be worn, to be used a single time in that runway show and then shoved in an archive?
When couture maisons have to pump out hundreds of dresses every two months, when the world is burning down around us, when none of this matters--isn't it refreshing to see some absolutely buckwild shit on a runway? In a world where the spectacle is supposed to distract from the horror, it feels lately like Viktor & Rolf are specifically hamming up the absurdity of it all. They've watched the industry change from when they first started out into becoming something alien and unrecognizable. Fashion design demands Autocad and 3d printing and literally engineering in order to keep ahead of the pack--and in what is supposed to be an industry defined by the inherent humanity needed to design couture, perhaps these strange polygons are a sort of reckoning with that.
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The Biggest Tech Layoff in Each Country Since 2020
The pandemic wreaked havoc on virtually every business around the world. But no industry was hit quite as hard as big tech. The work-from-home revolution drove demand for technology. Big tech companies responded by hiring large numbers of new employees — and subsequently laying off excess workers in huge swathes when the bubble burst.
A new report from BusinessFinancing.co.uk analyzed data from Layoffs.fyi to find the biggest tech company layoff events since 2020 per country and per continent based on the number of employees laid off.
Source: https://businessfinancing.co.uk/tech-layoffs-since-2020/
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Descendants Carlos de Vil x Reader: Dating Headcanons
Request: Hiii could you do a dating headcanons of Carlos De Vil? With female reader please.
Reader: Female
Word count: 907
Average reading time: 3 min 20 sec
Category: Fluff
Warnings: None
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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.
Sweet Good Mornings: Carlos is always the first to text you in the morning. His messages are filled with sweet words like, "Good morning, love! I hope you have the best day today. I love you so much!" If you wake up together, he'll gently brush his lips against your forehead and whisper, "Morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?"
Thoughtful Surprises: Carlos loves surprising you with little gifts and gestures. He'll hand you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, grinning as he says, "I saw these and thought of you." Sometimes, you'll find a handwritten note tucked into your bag with a simple, "Can't wait to see you later, my love." And when he plans a spontaneous date night, he’ll look into your eyes and say, "Go get ready love, I’m taking you out tonight."
Adventures with Dude: Carlos absolutely adores his dog, Dude, and loves including you in their adventures. As the three of you walk through the park, Carlos will toss a ball for Dude, then turn to you with a smile, "I think Dude loves you almost as much as I do." During cozy movie nights, Dude snuggled between you both, Carlos will chuckle, "Looks like moments with just us two will be a rare occasion."
Having His Hand On You: Carlos always needs to have his hand on you, whether it’s holding yours as you walk through Auradon Prep or resting it on your waist while exploring the Isle of the Lost. He’ll occasionally give you a gentle squeeze, whispering, "I need to know that you’re okay, I can’t have anything happen to you."
Supportive Partner: Carlos is your biggest cheerleader. When you're facing a tough challenge, he’ll sit beside you and say, "You’ve got this. I believe in you love." During stressful times, he’ll pull you into a hug, adding, "I’m here for you, no matter what."
Tech Savvy Gestures: Carlos loves using his tech skills to impress you. He’s built you a custom app that sends sweet notifications throughout the day. One might pop up saying, "Hey, remember that time we stayed up all night talking? Best night ever. I love you." He’ll grin as you read it, knowing it made your day.
Movie Nights: Movie nights with Carlos are always special. He sets up blankets and your favorite snacks, making sure everything is perfect. As you cuddle up together, he’ll whisper during the romantic scenes, "You want to try this too?" and you can feel the love in his voice.
Romantic Picnics: Carlos often plans romantic picnics under the stars. As you both lie down, gazing at the sky, he’ll turn to you and softly say, "I’m so grateful for you. Ever since I left the Isle you are the one thing I never want to lose." The sincerity in his voice makes every word feel like a treasure.
Dance Partner: Carlos is an amazing dancer, and he loves pulling you into spontaneous dance sessions. He’ll grab your hand in the middle of the room, twirl you around, and laugh, "Come on, dance with me. Let’s make the most of this moment." Even if it’s raining, he’ll spin you around and say, "Nothing can stop me from dancing with the love of my life."
Whipped and Proud: Carlos is completely whipped for you, and he’s not shy about showing it. He’ll proudly tell his friends, "I’m the luckiest guy in the world." and doesn’t hold back when it comes to public displays of affection. He’ll shower you with kisses, hug you tightly, and always say, "You’re everything to me."
Protective Nature: Despite his sweet demeanor, Carlos is fiercely protective of you. When someone crosses a line, he’ll step in without hesitation, saying, "Hey, back off. She’s with me." His protective nature makes you feel secure and cherished, knowing he’ll always be there for you.
Heartfelt Confessions: Carlos often expresses his feelings through heartfelt confessions. He’ll take your hands, look deeply into your eyes, and say, "You’ve changed my life in ways I never imagined. I can’t picture a future without you in it." The depth of his love is clear in every word.
Customized Gifts: Carlos loves creating customized gifts for you. When he hands you a personalized piece of jewelry, a dress or a tech gadget he designed, he’ll smile and say, "I made this just for you. I hope you like it." Sometimes, he’ll sheepishly admit, "I may have asked Evie for some help with the jewelry and dress, but it’s all made with you in mind."
Celebrating Milestones: Carlos never misses an opportunity to celebrate your milestones together. On your anniversaries or even the celebration of the day you first met, he’ll surprise you with something special. He’ll wrap you in a hug and say, "Here’s to us and all the amazing moments we’ve shared. I love you."
Unwavering Loyalty: Carlos’s loyalty to you is unwavering. He’s always there, putting you first and showing you how much he cares. He’ll reassure you, "I’m committed to you, and nothing will ever change that." His loyalty and dedication make your bond stronger every day.
Favorite Kisses: Carlos has a special way of showing affection, he loves kissing you behind your ear. Whenever he leans in to place a soft kiss there, he’ll whisper, "I love you." making you feel cherished and adored. Whether you’re happy, sad, or just relaxing, those kisses are his favorite way of saying he cares.
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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: [email protected].
Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.
Requested by: Anonymous
#descendants#descendants 2#descendants 3#carlos#carlos de vil#carlos x reader#carlos de vil x reader#carlos x y/n#carlos de vil x y/n#carlos x you#carlos de vil x you#fanfic#fanfiction#y/n#x reader#disney#auradon#Isle of the Lost#disney descendants#carlos oneshot#carlos de vil oneshot#oneshot#carlos imagine#carlos de vil imagine#imagine#cruella de vil
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If you ever wanted to file the serial numbers off the prohibitedwish AU you made and just make a webcomic with the concept just know I would support you 1000% The dynamic and world you have made is so good and interesting even if it wasn't connected to adventure time.
I'll be uploading the entire series in Script format with Storybeats first on AO3, a webcomic is not ideal as tbh I dislike doing text boxes so much I animate it out of spite in storyboard format Oddly enough this AU is honestly could very much be connected to Adventure Time due to reasons I cannot elaborate until you guys see it yourself but the world they're in is called Iey This can be pronounced differently by each person. the point is that it's a parody of Ooo. Prismo says "Eee" while Scarab says it as 'Ey" some characters might say "Yi" like Howell or even "Yay" ! The world already takes place in the timeline after the War and magic just began settling in so remants of the war is strong in this one too as technology is still based of existing tech but magic is slowly being developed The biggest thing about this is that They're using the Enchiridion in this series, so it's already a huge sign for a series of unfortunate events to happen to them if you ask me
#fionna and cake#adventure time#prismo#prohibited wish#adventure time fionna and cake#prismo the wishmaster#carmen dreams au#prohibitedwish#scarab the god auditor
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Meet CDN Solutions Group at InnoEx 2024 (HKTDC) – HongKong
CDN Solutions Group is among the InnoEX 2024 Exhibitors. We are eager to exhibit the next-gen technology solutions we offer to support many industry sectors especially focused on smart cities and sustainable growth.
Explore CDN Solutions Group’s cutting-edge technology solutions and expertise at InnoEX 2024 to understand how we have helped businesses enhance operational agility, and increase productivity and efficiency.
#InnoEX#InnoEX 2024#InnoEX 2024 exhibitor list#InnoEX 2024 Hong Kong#Best tech company in InnoEX#Biggest Tech Conferences 2024#biggest tech event in the world#business events#business events in Hong Kong#Event Pass#hktdc 2024#hktdc 2024 april#hktdc 2024 schedule#HKTDC Electronics Fair#HKTDC Electronics Fair 2024#HKTDC Events#hktdc exhibition 2024#hktdc exhibition address#hktdc exhibition registration#hktdc fair 2024#HKTDC Hong Kong Electronics Fair#InnoEX 2024 agenda#InnoEX 2024 dates#InnoEX 2024 location#Innoex 2024 venue#InnoEX event pass 2024#InnoEX exhibition Hong Kong#InnoEX exhibition Hong Kong 2024#InnoEX Exhibition registration#InnoEX exhibitor List
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one of my BIGGEST and important rambles on ava that questions a lot of stuff that was accepted as factual a lot of times
dimensions, rocketcorp and virtual reality in ava
initially inspired by these tags from @sticksstonessteel and the thinking about rocketcorp simulations. and a certain hc i saw on ao3 once and remembered
eventually it turned into an existential crisis. im sorry moots
warning: OKAY. so. this is very clumsily made and its an assumption made both of canon info and theories that might feel as a complete reach.
this text touches upon possibility AND obscure ideas that might not have definitive proof in canon. there might be not a direct link of events here. but it is very, VERY long and touches many different subjects at once. takes of this long ramble are bold (i could also mention strangely opposing points in the text because i re-thought many concepts along the process of this ramble and mightve not noticed it)
i was wondering about the way the technical-machine device stuff intermingles with the whole literal mercenaries (and a box used for torture) thing. but these tags made me think not only of that
what we've seen so far is that rocketcorp controls a variety of tech, both pc-like interfaces that only they have access to and more "regular" tech, like tvs on which videos from youtube can be played on. [kings backstory]. we've also seen a variety of different tech in the wanted-the box episodes, but not much of it can be used outside whatever advanced shit theyre doing inside the corporation. one of these things however can be used which is surveillance tech, it feels like an important thing to note given that the importance of the corporation might suggest that rocket is responsible for city surveillance in one way or another as well
yet how exactly does a tech corporation tie in with mercenaries, weaponry (and literal torture)?
• rocketcorp
given, again, the grand variety of tech they possess and advanced technology they use, them using literal devices that real world users/sticks from a pc would use (control panel of the box) and it being restricted to them only made me think of something. the whole story of ava/m is built inside digital realms, outernet and internet. taking that into account, obviously, any kind of technological advances in these worlds are crucial to the way of how sticks in it interact with their already technological reality. which made a tech company like rocketcorp so influental in the first place
due to a piece of rocketcorps existence in the king episode and ava s2 teaser and prior to the release of the box i had a thought that the company specializes and presents itself as a "domestic" tech company. not the kind of company that meddles with grand technology and digital stuff, but the one that is accustoming citizens of the outernet with regular tech such as the mentioned tvs. the work of the mercenaries was always perceived to me as just an underground shady work of a company. but the box and a reminder of the chosens wanted poster made me rethink and question whether rocketcorp specializes on technology that changes and affects the reality they're living in, outernet and dimensions itself
i tried to observe the possibility of it and came around to three big thoughts, the most major one being the last
first thought that can give something to this thought is that mercs tech weapons influence physical properties of their world — ultimately damaging objects and people (like it was with the corndog stand and chosen), rendering the objects out of their usual state and bringing actual pain or messing with the state of a stick.
(its also worthy to mention that in the corndog short, prior to the merc and chosen chase appearing onscreen people in the short were already running away, and it does make me wonder if it happened out of potential fear of these weapons or, maybe, potential fear of the chosen one? bringing me back to my post on thinking how chosen & dark crimes were perceived in the internet and possibly outernet)
the fact that weapons changing literal existence of an object and glitching them are available to mercenaries of rocketcorp is a pretty big thing
another potential argument for it is about the memory scanner itself — a thing used for intrusion into a literal brain (code?) of a person. the obvious thing aside – the scanner literally looks like a vr helmet and i initially thought that it was its function before i saw what it was used for
the whole fact that this kind of advanced technology exists, honestly, surpassing the already existing level of technology in stickcity is something that could potentially connect victim and rocketcorp respectively to an ability to meddle with a literal living being, their memory and potentially their code. victim, aware and knowing the process of being directly created from someone's hand might've acquired the knowledge of influencing a stick's literal process of living over the course of all the years. which brings me to my major point:
• dimensions
we all know about the fact that initial pc programs are able to be used in the outernet, which by itself is an interesting discussion of internet and outernet intertwining once again. we know that rocketcorp and pc sticks use interfaces that real world users use. and we know about the existence of the adobe tool board that agent uses literally all their screentime and the adobeflash instruments in victims office. it wasnt a surprising thing to see given that we have mostly explored the way of how pc and internet programs work throughout the series, and it was thought about that well! nothing surprising about these tools being in the outernet as well, mustve acquired it from somewhere! (and honestly, given all the new insane character plot i didnt think about that deeply either)
over the course of events happening in the outernet we have never really seen pc apps used there physically prior to season 2, except for one time of alan's cursor being used there... that required an insane amount of coding and manifestation of the cursor in the outernet space that couldnt be achieved without a stick that is familiar with with a pc.
not only talking about yellows feats, the creation of darks portals is something worth mentioning as well. we know that he is extremely skilled in coding, with it most likely being his main activity (aside from terrorism) in his life in the outernet. no sticks that we've seen created something like literal dimensional portals, like dark did — and he is a stick that is accustomed to the pc and internet as well. and oh, orange. bringing their stylus to outernet and have it revoked almost immediately when caught (which is not surprising at all anymore, that the mercs and rocket workers took an immediate interest in it given canon information and all these theories lol)
and, unsurprisingly, purple, king and the unknown merchant in "the king" episode as well. we know that the minecraft icon could be accessed through a travel to a pc, and that purple was first introduced literally inside of a mac — and the whole bit of purple coming to alanspc trying to steal the icon that the cg had.
(another thought to mention is about the interdimensional travel — the whole fact that the internet and the pc realm is able to be accessed through programs brought to the outernet. (e.g. minecraft portals). but again, these programs were initially coming from a pc, and didnt exist in the outernet. where the actual hell did the blue merchant in the king episode come from????)
this whole fact shows that the only way to access pc programs in the outernet is for something or someone to bring it there.
and victim, posessing all the tools of the whole program he was created in, wouldnt be able to get it through regular means. whether that means acquiring it from someone's elses hands or going to a pc by themselves.
• virtual reality and the position of rocketcorp in outernet
now, im going to bring up outernet and internet intertwining again. outernet sticks do not interact with pc programs physically, like all avam main characters do.
the only times we've seen pc programs and apps physically interact with outernet were shenanigans with the cg, hollowheads, purple & king. people that actually had access to a pc in one way or another.
(..and the damn merchant.)
the fact that these programs existence is quite rare in outernet and maybe even unknown to some, having rocketcorp being a full-on restricted company with classified information, having high influence over tech, exchange of pc programs being seen as a shady activity(!!!!) (the king episode),
— could rocketcorp be somewhat of a main corporate that controls the fabric of the outernet and internet itself, being some sort of a power force and government-ish corporation to the outernet? perhaps, them being seen as officials that have limited knowledge of unaccessible pc programs and internet itself and exclusive (even divine?) power of it that only they are able to possess, providing it to the outernet, initially making them "the people in power" that stand higher than regular sticks of the outernet?
(essentialy, making victim a literal fucking dimension mastermind)
• important part about outernet sticks (that ill probably ramble about in an another post independently)
supposing that rocketcorp does possess power... would they have control over what they decide to stream and show with their tech?
the tv that we've seen in the king episode didnt show any other episode except for the minecraft one. heck, it could've been the only thing shown there.
and in general, it begs the question: are outernet sticks that never traveled beyond its space even aware of internet?
and could've they interpreted the episode above as just fiction, along with the confirmation that our main characters are the ones that are inherently tied with the pcs and the internet in different ways?
(PLEASE tell me if there's proof that confirms otherwise because its a very bold statement given how much outernet and internet are interlinked in the main story. its 2 am i havent slept sometimes i have amnesia and i might be forgetting something very crucial. this assumption was not fully comprehended by me before specifically because most outernet sticks are the same type with the cg and it was confusing when i was just getting back to avam a few years ago)
we also know about the box itself. or, to be more accurate, the boxes. the ones that both chosen and second were trapped in, at the same time, in different places. the ones that were, quite literally, simulations. the ones that have also used pc programs tools.
simulation isnt something that was seen as an ordinary occurence, but it was literally seen twice in the rocketcorp in the same episode. creation of a simulation doesnt seem like an activity that could be used by ordinary sticks either. giving potential highest influence of rocketcorp over pc and internet technologies and its providence, are they able to give simulation experience to others, allowing regular sticks to experience different dimensions in a controlled way? say, for example, in a game?
whoa finally i got it out of my brain. im going to drop family guy pose style
afterthought rollercoaster:
• as far as i remember we didnt see outernet citizens interact with internet like users do, but we do know they possess tech such as television again, that can be bought. there IS tech such as computers (tdls room) but we havent seen them being used by sticks that werent exposed to the concept of the pc and the internet. there is a possibility i missed out on outernet sticks using phones or other tech, but even with this, its possible that our internet is simply not accesible there
• given the possibility of rocketcorp delegating all technology and simulations, providing it to others, possibly allowing smaller companies to use their resources in different cities... is there a possibility that rocketcorp might've been responsible for the gold simulation incident?
• going back to weapons of the mercs, i do wonder whether, even with the pc apps ability to be used in the outernet, the apps themselves having any kind of influence over processes in the outernet — given the whole glitching thing that literally messes with physical objects and people. it is just my own theory, but i dont believe that the glitch thing that is embedded in these weapons comes from the outernet, either
• okay this is going to be a wild concept you dont have to read it
talking about the creation of outernet and the whole race of stickmen, right now i am tending to believe that outernet is still an extension of internet that might've appeared with its creation. i was always open to accepting it but slightly confused by the concept of outernet being natural (bc i constantly try to find logic in worldbuilding el oh el) and tried to suggest a theory that sticks of outernet might've also been created directly (which does feel like a reach atp). with the concepts i discussed in this ramble i dont really feel that confusion, but im honestly not abandoning the idea of creation at some point, either: specifically i had a thought that when outernet first appeared first sticks of that dimension were also created, potentially them finding a way into outernet in some way. but eventually outernet was built as an independent place for their kind and prospered by itself like any civilization would
oh my god im going to drop with exhaustion. but im so happy i got it out
self portrait of my sticksona right now
#animator vs animation#alan becker#animation vs minecraft#animation vs animator#ava/m#ava headcanons#ava theories#ava theory#animator vs animation theory#storgesinsaneramblings#hhhaabwhirkr. some of these concepts make me go insane#if any of my ideas make sense im going to make this post into a bingo when new episodes come out
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Back with some more thought experiments! This time, let’s talk about the actual worldbuilding of Twisted Wonderland. I mean, this is a completely separate world where fairytales and fantastical things actually exist. It’s functionally impossible for Twisted Wonderland to just be Earth plus some Disney sprinkled on top.
The biggest point that really gets me is that fact that methods to foresee the future exist. Astrology is a valid class in NRC and Yuu suffers from plot convenient prophetic visions. The mere idea that the future can be foreseen should have huge ramifications on how businesses and governments operate. Imagine knowing the effect of a deal or policy before it even happens. Or minimizing crisis by knowing about it before it strikes.
Magic should also affect technological development. We know that there was an age before magic was widespread among humans, thanks to Trein in GloMas. In that sense, I can see how up to a point technological development may be similar… but post-magic the technology should be different due to a different set of limitations.
Language is also an interesting topic. Setting aside things that humans probably can’t event speak like the Fae languages seen in game, what of the languages used in Twisted Wonderland? Would they be similar to Earth as a result of the Disney movies used to create its history? Does that explain why Rook speaks French?
This isn’t accounting for religion either. The Age of the Gods is a thing, drawing from the Hercules movie. That would mean that the Greek gods actually exist in Twisted Wonderland. So how did they fall out of worship? I mean, only Hades seems to be recognized anymore due to the Great Seven, and not even in a religious way.
Look, I’m going to hit the character count if I keep trying to list all of my questions. This is just all so fascinating! And true to my fixation on Yuu, this is all great content for exploring just how alien Twisted Wonderland must feel. Like, Yuu should honestly ask more questions. I don’t buy how easily they adapted in the game.
- 🦐
*cracks knuckles* Shrimp you have brought up stuff I've been thinking about for a hot second, I'm so glad you have come into my inbox ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡
I agree that I don't think Yuu would have adjusted as easily as they are depicted to in game, but this is a mobile app gacha game licensed by Disney so it's not going to focus as much on stuff like that. Luckily that's what we're here to do anyway~ I am going to go through these points one by one.
Point One: Astrology
The most we learn about how fortune telling works in game is from the Scalding Sands hometown event. There is an exchange between Cater, Trey, and Jamil about using coffee grinds to tell fortunes, and Trey specifically says something I think is interesting: we get two really interesting lines:
From what's said here we can tell two things: A) there is a distinct difference between types of fortunes and B) a distinct difference in the quality of fortune tellers. Someone like Cater is correct most of the time with his divination, but not everyone will be making actively relying on it for major decisions. I could absolutely see older kingdoms having a seer employed who a ruler could call on for supernatural advice, but I don't think that would be common practice in modern day Wonderland outside of maybe Briar Valley. Besides, just because you know something bad will happen doesn't mean you will be able to efficiently mobilize your forces in time to make a meaningful difference.
Speaking of which, not to touch on spoilers too much but Leven seems to be implied to posses the ability to actually clearly see the future, and as for Yuu's visions...
Well Lilia says he thought they might have a curse like Silver's (not that he knew why they were dizzy)... and the ability to see the future IS often handed out in Greek Myths as a curse, but well. Make of that what you will.
Point Two: Magi-Tech
The way technology works in Twisted Wonderland is a bit vague. From how Idia talks, I think there is a distinct difference between technology and magitechnology, with Idia specifically specializes in the latter. I actually went a really long time thinking that since Yuu hadn't a single trace of magic on them they wouldn't be able to ride a magi-wheel because of how Deuce talks about it syncing with your own magic and what not. Even magicless people in Twisted Wonderland don't seem to be completely magicless, they just don't have enough of a mana pool to actually cast a spell.
I think it would make sense to suggest magic and magitechnology probably affected Twisted Wonderland's development in the same way the silicone chip did ours, but the key difference would be that if you put too much magic into a device most humans can't use it. That would bring up a completely separate set of setbacks and issues... while there might not be a difference in the type of things built their internal construction would definitely be wildly different.
Part Three: Language
I think the easiest answer to this is yes. We know there is a "common" language that most places now use... I like to headcannon that language as being unique to Twisted Wonderland but I have seen some people think it is probably English. Which brings out my scrunchy face because the prevalence of English in our world is because of the British Empire... which never existed in Twisted Wonderland.
Rook speaks French because one of his favorite plays is set in Fleur City/the Shaftlands... which as a side note. In his Vampire card vignette he names the play that made him like Neige so much: Kingsroad~ The Sword to Become King!~ which is literally the Sword in the Stone based off of the little song he sings from it. I have been going crazy since GloMas thinking about if this suggests that King Arthur is french in Twisted Wonderland or if Rook is referring to another play... personally I think he's from Sage's Island but that's a crack for another post
Part Four: Greek Myths and Religion
There doesn't really seem to be any religious presence in Twisted Wonderland at all. It's unclear if Hades was ever worshiped or if he was just referred to as a god due to his perceived immortality and power. Given that there is something called the Jupiter group... and the Shrouds are a branch of the Jupiter family... AND that the Titans you fight in Chapter 6 are yelling about getting to and killing Jupiter... I think that it's highly likely there are events in Twisted Wonderland's history that correlate to the stories of the Great Seven, but didn't necessarily involve the Great Seven themselves. It's just that those events are remembered as having been done by them... for some unknown reason. Not to be conspiratorial... but do we have any proof they ever actually lived in Twisted Wonderland at all? (━_━)ゝSure there are relics and things, and there are apparently paintings in the Land of Dawning Meusuem, but where did they come from? How old are they? I don't need sleep I need answers, is this a primary or a secondary source about the Queen of Hearts Riddle?
The End
I also wish Yuu would ask more questions, but I get why they don't :/ this is a gacha game blah blah blah but also. I don't think Yuu knows what questions to ask, there's a lot of stuff about life you don't think about as being abnormal until someone looks at you funny and I think Yuu realistically does a lot of that, but if you put every single instance of that into a game it would get very exposition heavy very fast. Luckily you, I, and everyone reading this have massive brains and can talk to each other about it!!!
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Hii there!
Can I request a Mirage x fem!reader, where the reader is celebrating New year with Noah and the other autobots, and the reader was drinking a lot and got drunk, then became sassy and playful to Mirage.
Thx, I love your writtings btw <3
New Year's Resolutions
ROTB Mirage x Female Human Reader
Word Count: 1400+
Warnings: Drunken Flirting, Alcohol usage, Language
You had been best friends with Noah Diaz since middle school, and remained close while he was in the army. After he was discharged, you often provided him with supplies for his technological tinkering once you scored a job at RadioShack, utilizing your employee discount to get stuff cheap. Noah and his family were like a second family to you, often visiting unannounced at the apartment, bringing snacks and helping Kris with defeating video game bosses. When Noah disappeared whilst on his mission with the Autobots to save the world from being devoured by Unicron, you took care of Kris while his mom went to work.
After those events ended, you had so many questions for Noah, but he always seemed to give you rather vague answers about a job internship in South America. You knew he was hiding something, but assumed he would tell you when the time was right. Kris was the first to let it slip about Mirage. You chalked it up to a little kid’s imagination, after all Kris played a LOT of video games.
Then there was the day where you decided to surprise Noah at his shop with the latest tech product Radioshack had released. Since this was to be a surprise, you didn’t announce your presence, instead opting to sneak through the shop. You heard Noah’s voice around a corner, and picked out a second that you didn’t recognize. As you stepped around the corner, you were shocked to find Noah talking casually with a giant fucking robot. Your shock makes you drop the object in your hand, the object clattering on the floor.
Noah turned around at the sudden sound, clearly not expecting to see you, “Oh shit… Y/N, don’t panic. I can explain.”
Mirage shot a glare at Noah and raised his arms, “Why are you talking about me like you got caught cheating? Sheesh, that’s the treatment I get, bro?” He turns to look at you, “Look cutie, I’m not gonna hurt anyone here. I’m one of the good giant alien robots.” He winks at you. Mirage leans in towards Noah and quietly whispers, “Where have you been hiding her? Why didn’t you introduce me?” Noah brushes him off, clearly not in the mood for Mirage’s antics.
While you’re taken aback by the tall, blue robot before you, you’re calmed slightly by Mirage’s chill and somewhat charming attitude. Besides, something about his optics and his dumb smile made you want to trust him. Noah had no choice but to tell you the whole story; how he met Mirage, the deal with the Autobots, saving the world… the works.
After your initial encounter with Mirage, Noah would go on to introduce you to the rest of the Autobots. Optimus trusted Noah’s judgment and welcomed you into the team, much to the excitement of a certain blue mech. When Noah was busy at work or off with his family, you would find Mirage randomly popping up wherever you were, often claiming he was bored and had no one else to talk to. So over the course of a few months, you and Mirage would spend more time together. You’d get to know Mirage’s dorky sense of humor, and his tendency to want to show off and get attention. Attention would be something you started to crave from Mirage, as you came to realize you may have a crush.
The end of the year 1994 approached quickly, and that meant one of the biggest holidays in human culture, especially in New York City: New Year’s Eve. With a lot of convincing from Mirage, Noah decided to host a New Year’s Eve party with the Autobots to have them participate in human celebrations in their warehouse base. Of course, you had been invited to the party, and you were curious as to what festivities were planned. As the night began, there was a massive television set on the channel awaiting the ball drop. You assumed it had been supplied by Reek, but didn’t ask questions.
For the select few human guests, Noah had supplied a small bar with sparkling wine, and other various liquors and mixers. It was New Year’s after all, tradition demanded booze. You started out the night with just one margarita, mixing it yourself at the bar. Meanwhile, Mirage made his way over to you, “Hey Y/N, how’s it hanging?” He had a grin on his face that made you a little weak in the knees.
“Oh, hey Mirage. I’m doing good. Just making myself a quick drink,” you flashed a nervous smile at him, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed simultaneously. This is stupid, no way an alien robot would like me that way, your thoughts hung over you as you tried to conceal your nervousness.
As the night continued, Noah chose to introduce the Autobots to human games. Throughout each game, Mirage stuck close to you, often cracking the corniest jokes in existence. Each interaction causes more butterflies to flutter in the pit of your stomach, in turn triggering you to consume more alcoholic drinks in your nervous state. You did a decent job of concealing your intoxication, until the game of Twister started. As teams were assigned, Mirage volunteered you as his partner, leaving a surprised Noah to pair up with Bumblebee.
At this point you were tipsy, but you were a composed drunk as few noticed your intoxication as you made your way to the mat alongside Mirage. Mirage leaned down to you, “Have you played this before?” You flashed a tipsy smirk at the Autobot mech, “A few times… As long as you’re flexible and don’t get confused, you’ll win. And you seem very… flexible.”
Mirage cleared his throat at your reply, his cheeks slightly flush as his gaze turned towards the mat. After a brief reading of the rules, the game began with Arcee in charge of reciting the position and color combos, “Left servo on blue!” All four of you quickly moved your hand onto the nearest blue dot. Easy enough. The game continued for some time, as you were all very competitive, but only one of you was intoxicated.
After one move, Mirage’s frame hovered over your backside in what could be seen as an… intimate position. In your tipsy state you looked up at Mirage with batted eyelids, “Third base and you haven’t even bought me dinner…”
Your comment has a direct and clear effect on Mirage, causing him to falter and fall onto the mat. The force of his frame hitting the ground shook you off balance, and you too fell, causing Noah and Bumblebee to claim victory. You briefly came to your senses, realizing what a fool you had made of yourself, you got to your feet and made your way to a secluded part of the warehouse. Waves of embarrassment and shame crashed over you, filling you with the fear Mirage might never wish to speak with you again.
The sound of familiar footsteps made you pause. “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Mirage stood behind you, a look of concern on his faceplate.
You felt yet another rush of heat throughout your body but tried to compose yourself. “...I-I’m fine, Mirage. Just maybe too much to drink,” your words were slightly slurred and you stumbled a bit.
Mirage approached you casually, before bending down and placing a servo on your back to support you, “Hey, I can’t blame you. It’s New Year’s after all, and you humans go crazy for this slag.” He gently repositioned himself into a sitting position, still supporting you with his servo, “Do you need anything? You look like you need something— not that you look bad, I mean— you look great! As always.”
Your cheeks and entire face flush bright scarlet as you struggle to hold back anymore. “I just need you…” As the words leave your lips, you realize you can’t take them back, and fear rattles through your body as you stare into Mirage’s optics.
Despite the brief silence, Mirage’s gaze locks onto yours and the mech leans close to your face. As the tension fills the air, both of you can hear the others begin the 10 second countdown to the New Year in the adjacent room.
You blush madly as you try to comprehend if this moment is real or the effect of tequila and sparkling wine, “Mirage, I’m sorry. It’s almost midnight so you should make your own New Year’s Resolution..”
As the echo of voices counted down: 5…. 4…. 3… Mirage gently pulled you close to him, “Y/N, you’re my New Year’s Resolution.”
It felt as if your heart skipped a beat as the words left Mirage’s mouth. As the countdown continued to its last seconds, you leaned forward. 2… your eyes meet. 1… your lips gently lock together.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
----END
Thank you for requesting! I appreciate you❤❤❤
#transformers#transformers rotb#transformers oneshot#mirage transformers#mirage#transformers x reader#transformers reader insert
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Yan DILF Patron of the Arts
Can’t wait for the name to be chosen to write something for him, gotta get it out…
It starts small, when an innocuous little social media post grabs his attention and won’t let go. A clip of a song, a flash of artwork, meticulous research notes, a cosplay, a photo shoot, a dance… he’s enraptured, enamored. He has to know the mind of the person who created such a thing. Has to understand, get closer.
He consumes your work with a ferocity, hungry like he’s never been hungry in his life. It isn’t enough— he devours everything of yours he can find, finds your very oldest posts from your public accounts, and… that’s it. He has to patiently wait for more from you just like everybody else.
But he's not just anybody else, and something about you has dried the deep well of patience at his core. He doesn't want to scare you, so he starts with small donations like anybody else might. He moves to slightly bigger payments, trying to gauge your reaction. He moves gradually, only making giant leaps if he finds that anyone else is making large payments. You deserve everything, all the recognition and money in the world in his mind, but the thought of someone else being your biggest donator gets him itchy under the collar.
Itchy all over, really. His skin prickles and burns the longer he stalks you, the longer he tries to make casual conversation and get to know you as best he can through the screen. It's not enough. He aches for you, yearns for you.
He tries to wait until you plan to attend an event, perform, set up a booth. He has to meet you there, has to see you in person. If you're not the type to advertise your travel plans, he's got to be a little more creative, since he's not quite tech-savvy enough to hack into your computer and find your private plans. He'll set up the event himself, inviting you, making offers you can't refuse.
He hopes it'll be enough to see you in person. He'll be able to have a conversation with you and sate his curiousity, and then move on. In some ways he misses the peaceful monotony of his life prior to meeting you. You've consumed his every waking moment the way he so desperately wants to consume yours.
The first day of the event, he sees you. His mouth goes dry, heart hammering in his chest. He walks away, overwhelmed by your presence. He leaves flowers outside your changing room, or in your booth, or atop your bag when he regains enough composure to be close to you-- although he still waits for a moment where you won't realize he's there. He desperately hopes you're not allergic to flowers.
The second day of the event, he works up the courage to come and talk to you. He's nervous, blushing. It's not an expression you often think of men his age making; a harmful stereotype, but regardless, his shy demeanor and knowledgeable questions about your craft charm you. Maybe you agree to an outing-- not a date! He doesn't want to scare you off; this'll be purely a professional discussion-- a professional discussion that happens to involve a cute cafe and shopping.
He doesn't let you pay for a thing. He's delighted if you accept, and saddened if you're uncomfortable being spoiled. He wants to give you everything, anything you could ever need or want. He knows how hard you work on your craft; even if you're working another job, multiple jobs outside of it; even if you run a small business with your art; he knows how hard you work, always. He knows the stress you feel each time you miss work, or delay an order, and he takes it upon himself to help.
He offers to pay you full-time to create, to take the worry off. He offers for you to visit his various vacation homes, even when he's not there. He offers to help you network and allow your art to reach more people. Although... his appetite for you won't allow him to share you and your art forever.
#yandere#my thoughts#yandere oc#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere cw#yandere patron of the arts#yandere dilf
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"More than 150 workers whose labor underpins the AI systems of Facebook, TikTok and ChatGPT gathered in Nairobi on Monday [May 1st, 2023] and pledged to establish the first African Content Moderators Union, in a move that could have significant consequences for the businesses of some of the world’s biggest tech companies.
The current and former workers, all employed by third party outsourcing companies, have provided content moderation services for AI tools used by Meta, Bytedance, and OpenAI—the respective owners of Facebook, TikTok and the breakout AI chatbot ChatGPT. Despite the mental toll of the work, which has left many content moderators suffering from PTSD, their jobs are some of the lowest-paid in the global tech industry, with some workers earning as little as $1.50 per hour.
As news of the successful vote to register the union was read out, the packed room of workers at the Mövenpick Hotel in Nairobi burst into cheers and applause, a video from the event seen by TIME shows. Confetti fell onto the stage, and jubilant music began to play as the crowd continued to cheer.
The establishment of the Content Moderators Union is the culmination of a process that began in 2019, when Daniel Motaung, a Facebook content moderator, was fired from his role at the outsourcing company Sama after he attempted to convene a workers’ union called the Alliance. Motaung, whose story was first revealed by TIME, is now suing both Facebook and Sama in a Nairobi court. Motaung traveled from his home in South Africa to attend the Labor Day meeting of more than 150 content moderators in Nairobi, and addressed the group.
“I never thought, when I started the Alliance in 2019, we would be here today—with moderators from every major social media giant forming the first African moderators union,” Motaung said in a statement. “There have never been more of us. Our cause is right, our way is just, and we shall prevail. I couldn’t be more proud of today’s decision to register the Content Moderators Union.”
TIME’s reporting on Motaung “kicked off a wave of legal action and organizing that has culminated in two judgments against Meta and planted the seeds for today’s mass worker summit,” said Foxglove, a non-profit legal NGO that is supporting the cases, in a press release.
Those two judgments against Meta include one from April in which a Kenyan judge ruled Meta could be sued in a Kenyan court—following an argument from the company that, since it did not formally trade in Kenya, it should not be subject to claims under the country’s legal system. Meta is also being sued, separately, in a $2 billion case alleging it has failed to act swiftly enough to remove posts that, the case says, incited deadly violence in Ethiopia...
Workers who helped OpenAI detoxify the breakout AI chatbot ChatGPT were present at the event in Nairobi, and said they would also join the union. TIME was the first to reveal the conditions faced by these workers, many of whom were paid less than $2 per hour to view traumatizing content including descriptions and depictions of child sexual abuse. ...Said Richard Mathenge, a former ChatGPT content moderator... “Our work is just as important and it is also dangerous. We took an historic step today. The way is long but we are determined to fight on so that people are not abused the way we were.”
-via TIME, 5/1/23
[Note: In addition to Big Tech outsourcing and exploiting workers for social media and AI moderation, many companies also exploit and vastly underpay mostly overseas workers to straight up pretend to be AI. I'm really glad issues around this are starting to get attention AND UNIONS because exploited overseas labor is so often the backbone of AI--or even the "AI" itself.]
#labor unions#africa#kenya#south africa#open ai#chatgpt#facebook#meta#tiktok#workers rights#labor rights#exploitation#outsourcing#big tech#anti ai#nairobi#unionisation#unionize#good news#hope
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