#“why do you want to work for this company?” cause you're fucking hiring???

[sad-trash-hobo]

I fucking hate you companies that list any job and then list the pay at $15 or even LESS

[killedpink]

이 민호 | the art of jealousy.

🎧 masterlist !?

💭 synopsis: to stop his employees from ogling at you, minho re-establishes who you belong to during a business meeting. with you between his legs. with your mouth in his cock. for everyone to see — not that they dare to, anyway.

🖇 word count: 3.7K

📂 contains: dom minho / sub reader, ceo minho, possessive minho, oral sex, cum consumption, exhibitionism, hair pulling, spit kink, throat fucking, dacryphilia, slight humiliation kink, multiple orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie.

minho, believe it or not, was an incredibly gentle and loving man to you. he carried your things, he checked you ate and slept, he made sure you felt loved. you knew he loved you, maybe more than you loved him. yet sometimes, he did things that didn't feel like love. he had a jealous side — a very mean, possessive, demanding jealous side. especially when it came to you. he scowled whenever you were having lunch with a colleague, he rolled his eyes when you were going to a co-worker's house for a party, he scoffed when you mentioned someone other than him in the office when passing by. he wouldn't have been as possessive if you weren't such an impressionable, attention-demanding person. when you walked by someone on their break, they were sure to turn their head to watch you walk by, even if they weren't interested in you. not that you could tell, anyway, you were dense, so much so it took minho an entire year to make you realise he didn't want a coffee with you because he loved your highlighter brand, but instead because he loved you.

recently, he had been hiring new people, as their interns were up and many people in the office were approaching retirement, or had left for it already. that's a lot of fresh meat that doesn't realise you're not for ogling at. newbies were always stubborn and slow on the intake, they always needed a lesson repeated again and again until their brittle minds finally caught on. and minho, as head of the company, simply didn't have the time to go in circles on why his girl was not to be pined over like a common whore.

once everyone was seated, you took your own seat next to minho, always on his right and always the first in the row. it was always like that. it was your routine, for years, for thousands and thousands of meetings where you were present: that's where you sat. until today, it seemed. minho's legs spread wide, his knee touching yours, "today i want you here," he patted his thigh. you felt your heart rate quicken, "i don't believe that's professional, sir.. are you sure?" you spoke, quietly and slowly. you had to pick your words carefully whenever minho was working. he needed people to be direct, sure and fast. "don't make me say it twice." he didn't even turn to you, his eyes instead doing all the moving to glare into your own. taking a deep breath, you stood up without a word and sat on his thigh, feeling his toned muscle through his suit pants and through your own skirt, that was riding up your waist.

his hands moved onto your thighs, travelling up the thin material of your thigh-high socks, taking greedy fistfuls of the flesh of your inner thighs. you heard his melodic voice, firm and baritone, as he spoke — yet you couldn’t make out the words, completely stuck in your head about the position you were forced into. his warm, veiny hands sat above both your thighs, one falling down to cup the pocket of fat above your cunt, the surprise causing your breath to hitch rather loudly, some of your colleagues eyes turning to you. “don’t look at her. she’s not talking to you, is she? the only person your eyes need to be on is me.”

he was bold, you'd give him that. you originally figured it was just because he's the owner of the company, so he feels comfortable being so direct to people, but minho is just like that. he's not embarrassed or coy to put someone in their place. after what felt like a while, but was probably only a few minutes, minho's lips pressed against the shell of your ear, his hot breath making your spine stand up straight and goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "get on your knees, baby. put your mouth to work like i taught you to." he muttered into your ear, his hand still stroking your cunt lazily. was he actually insane? "minho, there's people watching.." you squeaked, head down to avoid catching someone's gaze. it gave you the perfect view of his hand up your skirt.

minho hummed in agreement, "exactly." he purred, kissing your neck, "be a good girl for me, yeah?" he added, tapping your cunt to encourage you. he was shameless. as are you, considering you found yourself moving off of his lap and dropping to your knees, cheek pressed against his knee, watching him expectantly with doe eyes, looking up at him through your lashes. you felt his hand stroke your hair, unconsciously leaning into his warm, inviting touch. realistically, you knew his belt buckle wasn't as loud as your colleagues' confused muttering, but when you heard minho unbuckling his pants, it pierced your ears so intensely it's all you could focus on, the sounds of the metal echoing in your mind.

you pawed at the material, pulling it down just enough so you could get to his boxers, eyeing the obvious bulge in his pants intently. you heard the spluttering of someone, going into a coughing fit of nerves as they watched their CEO let a girl kiss up his bare thighs, without even looking down at you. the more you moved in and kissed him, the less anxious you got, as if you could bury yourself between his legs and you'd turn invincible. that's how minho made you feel, anyway. he cleared his throat, "did i tell you to stop? continue." he urged, commanding the room as if you weren't drooling all over his clothed cock, palming his length and nibbling at his inner thighs. if anything, you felt insulted he pretended you weren't serving him with everything you had, not even letting out a sigh, instead just completely ignoring you.

fine. you could do with a challenge. loving minho never seemed to be enough — you had to worship him. he let you coax his cock out of his constricting boxers, kneeling up to meet his length, flattening your tongue and licking from the base of his cock to the head, where you kissed and ghosted your tongue over. the tip of his cock smacked against his stomach, his black tie shifting in mid-air as he leaned onto the polished, dark oak table, elbows balancing on the edge as he practically glared at the projector's screen. your tongue wrapped around his cock eagerly, like a cobra winding around it's prey, guiding his head into your mouth, swallowing the drool pooling in your mouth at the taste of his precum.

you pumped minho's base with ease, spreading your spit all over his length, kitten licking his head with your tongue. originally, you were mortified to be in this position, but now you were desperate for everyone to see just how devoted you were to him, lapping up his precum and running your tongue against the vein poking out from his length. you pushed his cock into your mouth, slowly inching him into your warm throat. too slow for his liking, it seemed, as the both of minho's hands came towards you. one grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging so viciously at your roots that it burned, the other grabbing your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with his fingers until your spit-glossed lips puckered, and slammed his cock fully into your mouth, disappearing into the block of your throat as you whined in surprise, the air leaving your lungs from the force he used to bully his cock into your mouth.

tears quickly pricked your eyes, making your vision blurry and your eyes glassy to minho's view, sparkling in the light that hung above. you took in a deep breath through your nose, shaky and hurriedly as your lungs burned in your chest. your hands steadied your body as they clung to his thighs, clutching at his skin, his boxers, his belt buckle, whatever you could get your hands on to ground yourself: you did. you swallowed the spit in your mouth, throat tightening around minho's cock, which tensed in your mouth at the feeling, just barely rocking into you, his pelvis an inch away from your lips. minho's cock gave you little room to move, your mouth and throat so full and so stuffed with his length, spit and precum leaking out of the corners of your glossy lips. even air felt like it took up too much room in your mouth when you had his cock sitting comfortably inside of it.

you chocked on his cock, unsure if it was because of his filling length or the longing and desire for him brewing quickly in your gut. you felt the thick mixture of his precum and your obscene drool leak from your mouth, falling in ropes from your mouth and onto his balls, feeling his thighs tensing like rocks between your head from the sensation. it drove minho wild — you knew it did, you watched as his brows just barely creased together, how his cock trembled in your mouth like a star collapsing from the sky, so why doesn't he make a noise? not even one was spared between the both of you. it was killing you, while keeping you from dying.

you were so wet. everywhere, there was wetness. on your face, from your tears, on your lips and chin from minho's precum and your spit, and in your underwear from your eager cunt, drooling from his salty taste in your mouth. slowly, experimentally, you started bobbing your head on his length, hands wrapping around his inner thighs to keep him in place, sliding minho's delicious cock in and out of your warm mouth, cheeks hollowing as you suckled him. you felt his hand stroke your cheek, before joining his other hand in your hair, keeping it out of your face and holding it in the palms of his hands and letting it weave itself into his fingers like plumes.

you couldn't help but moan around his cock, your lips a puffy ring around his length, spit getting everywhere in-between the both of you, eyes never leaving his face, daring him to spare a glance at you as he sat unamused watching his new request blubber like buffoons as they try to not look down at you drinking minho up like he was a poison, giving him such a phenomenal blowjob that it made you crave him. a genuine, needy moan spilled from your throat at the feeling of minho bobbing your head onto his cock, forcing you to take him whole, as you gagged and cried on his cock, your hands frantically palming at him. your spit flowed from your mouth in sticky, warm strings, trickling down minho's length and pooling at his heavy balls, some still attached to your bottom lip, following it and thinning out.

your hips rocked on nothing, your cunt throbbing between your legs so intensely you thought you'd cum untouched in your underwear, drunken off of minho's cock stuffed in your mouth alone. your throat squeezed around him, drooled around him, your cheeks wet from tears and your lips puffy and glossed. minho cleared his throat, "and finally, i am going to address the behaviour exhibited by the lot of you in this room. i understand you're new here, so i won't be too harsh — but i will only be saying this once, so pay attention." he started, dark brown eyes scanning the room to make eye contact with everyone he gathered. "don't think i haven't noticed the way you look at your superior. she's not for you to touch, or look at, or even think of. she's mine — she belongs only to me and i don't appreciate the disrespect she's been given as of recent. i will not repeat myself, so each and every one of you will do well to remember what i've said today. understood?" silence, heavy and thick and submissive silence. slowly, as if they were in a trance for the last handful of minutes, they unceremoniously roused, answering in a mixture of 'yes, sir', and 'understood, sir'.

"that will be all." minho chimed, eyes gleaming proudly as he fought off a proud smirk, watching as they bowed their heads and and fixed their gaze to the floor. you heard chairs scraping across the floor, people clearing their throats and frantically shuffling out after they said their goodbyes. as soon as they left you found yourself guzzling down minho's cum, salty and rich and creamy in your mouth, filling your tongue with his taste as your throat tightened around his cock to swallow.

you slid yourself off of minho's length, thick cables of cum and spit beading off of your lips and falling onto your lap, staining your skirt. your chest heaved for breath, as you looked up at minho, your lashes sticking together in bunches from your tears, licking your lips to clean them. you rose to your feet slowly, as if you were dazed and only just coming out of it. minho mirrored your actions, standing up and kicking his chair away, not even sparing a second to put his cock back into his boxers. his hands made quick work of your blouse, unbuttoning the shirt and opening it wide, his tongue dipping into your cleavage as his hands slid up your thighs, bunching your skirt around your waist. his fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your legs until they pooled at your ankles. "sit on the table," he muttered into your skin, nibbling and suckling when he wasn't too busy ordering you around.

minho picked up your underwear, tucking it into his pocket with two fingers, the warm palms of his hands stroking your legs affectionately, guiding them around his waist as he gingerly pressed kisses onto your lips, teeth grazing your bottom lip and his tongue poking out to taste your lips. you hummed contentedly; this is the minho you remember. "you did so well for me today," he praised, you could feel his proud smile against your lips, before you took his top lip into your mouth, nibbling the puffy pink lip as your hands groped his biceps, twirling the cool silk tie in your fingers.

you feel minho's hand fall to his cock, holding himself at the base as he guided his huge, hot tip to rub your aching, swollen clit, sawing up and down your slit while he held your waist with his other hand, tongue in your mouth and tasting himself on you. even his spit tasted good, lips wrapping around his tongue to suckle the flavour off of him as if he were a lollipop, trying every trick in the book to make him slide his cock into your dripping, puffy cunt. his cool nose pressed into the side of your neck as he grazed his lips along your soft skin. you held onto his shoulders still, one hand at the nape of his neck, stroking his soft hair. "minho, please. i've been so good. i need you, please.." you all but begged, rocking your hips to entice him.

his shirt wrinkled in your grasp, a cry tearing its way from your throat, clinging onto minho and burying your face into the warm, familiar curve of his neck as you squeeze minho's cock as soon as he lets you, parting your inner walls forcefully as he just barely slid into you. his tip rubbed against your slick entrance, your cunt a puffy outer ring around his cock. "shh, i know, baby. you're doing so good, i promise you." your cunt clenched at his words, clamping down on minho's cock as you grew dizzy with bliss. "just a little more, yeah?" he kissed your cheek, rubbing tight circles into your waist to soothe you from the stretch of his delicious cock.

minho kissed you with gentle lips and held you with strong hands. you nuzzled into his touch, a delirious juxtaposition from his tender lips and hold to his filling, thick cock. your eyes fluttered closed, tears flowing from your eyes, your legs trembling around his waist as he buried himself into you. minho moved fluidly, his hips pressing into your inner thighs, his v-line knocking into the soft, tender flesh of your thighs. warm, skilled and sweet hands hold you into his middle as your slick cunt welcomed his hard, leaking cock, looking up at him teary-eyed and frantic heartbeat.

his cock burrows deep into your clenching heat, chocking out a cry when his fingers dip to trace circles into your puffy clit, slippery with your arousal and soft under the pads of his fingers. “please move, minho,” you whisper softly into him, cheek pressed against his shirt, damp with your tears and stained a sheer, inky black from your mascara. slowly, your cunt is emptied, minho’s hips pulling back as he slides himself outside of you, your entrance clenching around what was left of minho’s cock inside of you; trying to stop him from withdrawing from your aching sex completely.

you gasped once you felt him fuck into you, legs tightening around him and caging him between your thighs. your cunt squelches, full with arousal and precum, clenching and tensing eagerly, obediently swallowing every inch of cockmeat minho feeds you as he plunges his hips into yours — carving your hips with his as if you were an angel trapped in marble. he pressed his pelvis flush against your sex, until your flesh aches and you’re sure he’ll bruise you with the force he uses to vehemently fix himself into your cunt. the stretch you were forced into stung your cunt, in such a bruising way that you let out a whimper, allowing yourself to suffer the pain if it was by minho's loving, warm hands.

your lips parted in a gasp, brows furrowed and pulled together, your head still nuzzled into the crook of minho's neck, arms thrown over his shoulders and frantically fisting his shirt, his hair, his tie — anything you could grope: you did. minho fell into a slow, sensual rhythm, his hips rolling like how the moon commanded the earth's tides; continuously and without restraint, wild and primal like some animalistic imitation. your sex quivered, crying into minho's body as you had to resist the overwhelming urge to buck into him and chase his mean cock. it was feverous, and it made your mind heavy and your mouth full with whines.

every touch felt like static on your burning hot skin, fucked nerveless by minho exactly like the last time he fucked you. and before that, too. he filled you from the inside, spreading a heat so intense into your cunt you thought you'd never fall cold again, your thighs trembling, the room spinning and your chest heaving for air — and all because of minho. all the while, he lets such filthy praise fall from his pink, puffy lips, slamming himself inside of you so forcefully you're sure the table is giving way under you, your body struggling to catch up with his brutal pace.

"minho, 'm close," you mutter, words melting together as you struggled to get them out coherently. "i know, baby," he cooed, kissing the top of your head, "come for me, it's okay, i've got you, my good girl," his hands kept you in place at your waist, stern and simultaneously comforting. he ricocheted between the two so seamlessly that he always left you surprised, eager for more and always trying to guess what he'd do next. you heard your heartbeat in your ears, so painfully strong in your chest it almost hurt, your body bouncing up momentarily solely from the strength he applied to his thrusts, his skin slapping against your skin — his hips slamming into your inner thighs.

you sat there, rocking on the threshold of two separate worlds; losing yourself in both of them. you were blinded by the intensity of your orgasm, half sure this moment would explode much like the coil in your gut and erupt into a star, fed nothing but the breaths of your passion for each other. minho quickly followed you, the veins in his arms jump as his hands grope your hips in frenzied handfuls, feeling your cum seep out of you and onto your thighs as minho fucked it out of you, replacing it with his rich, warm cum, his cock pulsing inside of you so intensely you feel his abs quiver as he just barely curls in on himself, lost in his own ocean as you both drown in the feeling of your releases together.

you blink the last of your tears out of your eyes, your sex sore and sensitive as minho mindfully pulls himself out of you, each inch of his cock feeling thicker and longer than before, as if you were feeling him for the first time all over again. you felt your cunt drool out cum, sliding down your thighs and painting them a milky white, too exhausted to move, giving minho the perfect view of your fucked out sex. you noticed the small grin on his pink lips, and you noticed the way his eyes drank in every detail you allowed him to witness, and you also noticed how enamoured he looked with you; completely at peace as his world stilled and made way for the both of you to just relax into each other's company as if you had nothing else to do, like it was the beginning of the world.

the flat of your palms connected with the polished oak table you were positioned on, holding you up as minho moved away from you to clean you up. with each swipe of the wipe your thighs involuntarily twitched, earning a kiss from minho to soothe your overworked body. you let minho cradle you in his arms, his hand rubbing circles on the small of your back, pressing kisses all over your face and head as you caught your breath, unaware of his pure, pleased smile.

"i'd like to see them try flirting with you now." he chimed, as if they haven't learned their lesson. although, you certainly wouldn't object if minho wanted to demonstrate a second. or even a third. or fifth — or tenth, for that matter. 

[demonbanisher]

So as an Indigenous person in Canada you have certain rights you're entitled to and no one anywhere knows what the fuck they are, so me being three weeks into fighting my ex-employer over taxes and losing my mind decided to deal with my emotions by projecting them onto fictional characters lol - this might be solely self-serving but I'm fine with that

Remus sighed and let his head thunk against his laptop. Sirius smiled around his coffee cup. "You finally die of boredom?"

"No. I'm being slowly killed by stupidity," Remus mumbled against the keyboard. He really need to clean it. The dust was much more visible from this close up.

"Whose stupidity?" Sirius asked and Remus missed the note of warning in his husbands voice. It was Sirius's 'I'll fuck over everyone who tries to harm those I love' tone.

"It's the HR rep from my last job again. I need her to change my tax forms. My times working doing travelling and doing care for the packs was supposed to be tax-free. First she wanted my werewolf registration card, which is stupid. No one needs my birth certificate to prove I have a pulse. It would be fraud for me to have lied about my status. But whatever, I'd send it if that's what it took to get this over with.

"So I offered to scan and send a copy of my registration card if it meant they'd redo them for me and she followed up providing me a T90 form where I can figure out my tax exempt income myself. Except, I can't because form T90 requested you input the value found in box 71 of your T4 so I looked that up and of course box 71 is the dollar amount of your income that is tax-exempt for 'werewolves working in a designation pack zone as required by their employer' but I don't have that number because that's the bloody fucking box I've been trying to get them to fill out this whole time.

"And like I did all of this months before I quit. I mean I should have expected it cause I quit because of racism and discrimination but I gave them a TD-W1 already. I did everything I'm supposed to do but they don't expect to ever hire a werewolf so why would they bother to teach their HR reps the forms to complete upon hiring one?"

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry Pads. I know you deal with me ranting and raving about prejudice enough as it is. It's just getting to me. I don't know how much more I can talk."

Remus was met with a long steely silence followed by a crack of apparition and he sat up to find that his husband had disappeared. Less than five minutes later there was another crack and Sirius somehow reappeared with the CEO of his former place of employment who was looking rather sheepish.

"Mr. Lupin," he said, extending his hand, "I've been made aware there have been some issues with your tax forms?"

"Issues of discrimination," Sirius said his voice dripping with contempt.

"As I've said to your husband, Harold's has a strict zero tolerance policy when it comes to discrimination in the workplace."

"And as I've told you Mr. Jameson, if that policy was properly enforced Remus wouldn't have experience mistreatment to the level that he had no choice to quit for his own wellbeing."

Mr. Jameson swallowed heavily, but ultimately decided to ignore Sirius. "Well, I wanted to let you know we were able to revise your T4 properly and I wanted to apologize and deliver it in person."

"Thank you," Remus said, voice trembling as he took the envelope from his hand.

"Of course. If there's anything else...?"

Remus couldn't help but feel smug as the CEO of this multi-billion dollar company turned to look at his husband for confirmation that he was allowed to leave, which Sirius provided in the form of a terse nod.

"You didn't have to do that," Remus said, hands shaking as he opened the form to see that finally, finally box 71 was filled out.

"It's not right. You shouldn't have to jump through eighty different hoops to get them to do something that's enshrined in law."

Remus looked down at his feet embarrassed. He knew Sirius was well aware that Remus often paid full price for pain potions and other required medication because most apothecaries 'didn't take that rewards program' when he asked them for the discount entitled to him as a registered werewolf. He just got so exhaustion of having to argue and fight with everyone all the time and then being seen as a nuisance for having to get the manager brought out. It always felt like everyone in the store was staring at him and that he was being difficult for asking them to meet his basic rights.

Sirius slowly stepped into Remus's space. "I did it again, didn't I?" Sirius knew he often had a habit of setting of the world on fire for those he loved and asking questions later, including whether or not the people he loved wanted him to light the world on fire for him.

"I - I don't know. I mean they should know they can't treat people like that but I can't help feeling like I'm being difficult. "

"Darling," Sirius said, gently placing his hands on Remus's arms, "you aren't being difficult for asking them to recognize the rights afforded to you as a werwolf. It took years of hard work and advocacy to see those enshrined in law. They can't just be ignored."

Remus felt his eyes start to water. "Sometimes I think you'd make a better werewolf than I would."

"Hey," Sirius said, tipping his head up to look in his eyes. "Don't say that. You do so much for your community."

"Then why did I quit? Yeah, they treated me terribly and I had to deal with discrimination daily, but it meant something to the packs I worked with to actually have someone who understood them representing them. How can what I done not be seen as turning my back on them?"

"Sweetheart, the best thing you can do for your community is to stay alive. You can't help anyone if you can't get out of bed anymore or if you're being traumatized on a daily basis."

Remus let himself fall into Sirius's arms. "I just want to exist," he said as the tears finally fell. "Is that too much to ask?"

And Sirius didn't know what to say to that because he knew that more often than not the way the world treated Remus showed him that yes, it was too much to ask, but Sirius knew he'd do whatever he could to show Remus that wasn't true.

[charyou-tree]

The far-right wants American politics to feel like having an abusive parent.

If you have an abusive Father lets say, you come to learn that you can't reason with him. You don't defy him or he hurts you, and trying to explain your point of view never works, so eventually you give up trying. Your only goal is to manage interactions with him so you don't get hurt.

So instead, when you need something, you go to your Mother instead, because you might actually have a chance of influencing her behavior. So, if she's not able to get you something, say, because Father controls the bank accounts, you might get angry with Mother instead because she chose not to listen to you this time! Father never listens, so you don't even consider that a failure, that's just "normal". That's just how Father is. Mother is usually nice, she just decided to be mean!

This is why republican controlled legislatures don't pass anything except tax cuts for themselves. The whole plan is to prove the idea of "Government Never Helps" by example. Why? To make the party who promised to use the government to help people look bad, so that the people who voted for that party blame them for betraying their voters, instead of blaming the wannabe oligarchs stonewalling progress for the last 40 years. The republican party follows the same playbook every time:

Cut taxes and dump money into your buddy's company

Companies get rich(er) and hire people to expand, unemployment temporarily goes down

Lack of government revenue makes budgets tight, and times seem good so we "have to" cut social services (because raising taxes makes you look like the bad guy, and the democrats already are a minority party)

Massive corporate power results in billions of dollars being taken from working people, resulting in increasing poverty, homelessness, social problems in general, made worse by the lack of social services

"Democrats never deliver on their promises, voting doesn't work, both sides are evil, there's no point in trying to change things"

Young people and leftists stay home, republican majority is elected

goto 1.

The democratic party has held a veto-proof majority exactly once in the last 40 years, for about 8 months during the Obama administration. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Party_divisions_of_United_States_Congresses) That was the last-best-chance we had at getting anything useful done, every other time has had one or more republican majorities blocking progress.

It pisses me off so much to see the short-sighted leftists on the internet talking about how "voting doesn't work" and waxing poetic about how we need a revolution that they know damn well isn't coming. You know why voting doesn't seem to work? Because you smug idiots decided you were too good for it and won't do it!

If any of you think that adding yourselves to the "Did Not Vote" category will somehow cause American political leadership to stop flirting with fascism please block me right now. I am disgusted with how many people who bitch and moan about how awful our government is can't be bothered to do the BARE FUCKING MINIMUM about it.

We have a government made of conservative old people because conservatives and old people ALWAYS VOTE.

If y'all don't even vote, you're not fighting a revolution. Grow up.

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

What is the Tumblr kokobot mental health thing and why does it keep messaging me when I go into various mental health/neurodivergent tags? I'm generally looking for community and I don't appreciate this site deciding I am In Danger. You're a therapist and I feel like you've probably talked about mental health apps before so thought I'd ask

Uuuugh, that thing. I think I blocked it a couple months back. BUT, I'm going to be as fair to it as I can.

The part you and I bumped into is their automated chatbot, which monitors traffic on social media sites to detect people having mental health crises and try to convince them to access mental health support. Apparently their bot got good enough at detecting human behaviour patterns online that they actually spun it off into a separate company for a while and then sold their tech to a corporation, before returning to the mental health idea. They returned to it, critically, as a non-profit, which is why I'm willing to give it a second look at all.

tl;dr: I would not immediately warn everyone away from using it! Which is more than I could say for a lot of Silicon Valley mental health startups. I don't love the current implementation, but I think they might have the makings of a decent mutual aid platform for temporary moments of stress.

Long version below

Like, I was not a fan at all of Trill when Tumblr partnered with it, because I felt that they were using well-intentioned volunteers to do potentially harrowing and dangerous work without adequate training or support. (Or not-so-great volunteers, since I was dubious about their vetting process) And a lot of Kokobot's origin story is in some ways really similar to Trill.

Most of these startups and initiatives mean well. They want to make the world better and help provide comfort and support to people who need that. I admire them for their dedication to a good cause. However, I believe that when you are devoting significant resources to building a system where you ask people to choose you for support in their moments of vulnerability, you cannot put your intentions ahead of their needs.

Like: It is really great that people want to help the less-fortunate. I think it shows warmth of heart to want to go somewhere and build homes for the homeless. But if you've never built a house before, and the houses you build are so poorly constructed that they fall down or catch fire or whatever, and they wouldn't have if you'd put the equivalent amount of money into hiring local out-of-work carpenters to do the work properly, I don't think you should keep operating like that as a charity.

I'm also judging Koko a bit as the former teenager who wanted to help people, in terms of how much they provide guidance and support to the helpers they've recruited.

Finally, I feel the need to remind all of us, as useless as such reminders feel, that if you are not paying for a social media platform, you aren't a customer; you are the product. "Kokobot", the organization, the platform, the AI, are not the core producers of its value. Its users are. Without people in distress to whom to provide support, and without supportive people there in times of distress, it would not exist.

Maybe this will never be an issue. Maybe this conflict will never arise. Maybe the nonprofit organization will be devoted enough to the needs of its userbase that they will serve them faithfully and well. I hope so.

I'm just... jaded, by things I've seen before.

What I don't like at all:

It took me a lot of work to go from looking up Kokobot on Tumblr to understanding how the company worked, what using the app was like, and whether their work was being informed by anyone with a lick of knowledge about mental health care. I still don't know a lot of stuff about how they handle anonymity in situations like imminent suicide or homicide, or abuses of the platform.

Kokobot messaging people out of the blue is creepy as hell. My first response was, "Fuck off, I can TELL you're not ethical." Most ethical guidelines I know of for mental health therapists explicitly forbid directly soliciting clients ("Hey there, I can tell you've got a few issues. Here's my card"), especially when people appear psychologically vulnerable or in distress. The only wiggle room there is when you're working in disaster relief and crisis intervention, but that does not make it an "anything goes" situation.

@kokobot posting lots of testimonials from users about how great their service is. Again, something usually strictly forbidden by ethical standards! When someone has just come to you in distress and you've provided them help, and then ask them to give you a Yelp review, you're not usually going to get thoughtful, measured, and informed feedback. It's a weird power dynamic that might be great advertising, but not great informed consent.

While Koko might be a legit company that does its job well, its presence and behaviour opens up the field of what is acceptable behaviour on social media. If one app can track mental health tags and solicit vulnerable people into joining their group, why not another? What will stop Scientology (which has done this in person for decades) from creating a similar app, pitching it to people in need, and coaching its users to go off all their psychiatric medications and use pseudoscience instead? Where are the safeguards?

What's Not Terrible

Kokobot is clunky and weird, but like I said on my post on Trill, the hardest part of moderation on social media is the amount of labour it takes, and the human cost of that labour. It seems to me that by using AI, Koko might have found an efficient way to automate much of that labour.

I tried out the actual app itself, messaging on Telegram; for my "problem", I just said I was concerned that a friend was messaging Koko a lot and I wanted to make sure it was legit. Sending it out required answers to some pretty vital questions—did I feel hopeful or hopeless about the world? What kinds of best- or worst-case scenarios was I imagining? They were worded in a way that felt human and genuine, and the chatbot was responsive and encouraging before my problem ever got human eyes on it.

(For the record: These are questions that can very quickly give information on whether someone is likely to be a danger to themselves or anyone else, which are really important.)

Then, at the bot's suggestion, I also helped a couple other people, where I was given very rough and ready training on active listening, then coached into writing a response. It avoided a lot of on-ramps to community toxicity, inasmuch as the problems and replies were private and anonymous, and there were instant feedback options if anything was worrying or upsetting.

This process showed what I think was a more sophisticated and useful implementation of AI than, uh....... like 99% of the AI I've seen. This is mostly a statement on the state of AI, but still. Koko seems like the bot's responses were really carefully workshopped and designed by actual humans who knew about crisis intervention and risk assessment.

The replies I got to my "problem" were fairly good, empathetic and genuine. (The bot encourages people to be a little dorky, and seeing an auto-generated response I myself was suggested made me roll my eyes; this could reduce the value for some people.)

I can definitely see the benefit of encouraging people who are feeling distressed to help others. Engaging in peer support encourages empathy, and helps people feel like they've got something to offer, and that problems might be solvable.

In the end, Kokobot is an expansion of the kind of work volunteer-run distress and crisis hotlines do. It has the potential to do a lot of good, but the organization itself has to consider so many other factors and processes than its users do. I sincerely hope it and Tumblr are being extremely thoughtful and careful in how they handle this work.

I would be delighted to be proven wrong, and have them turn out to be totally amazing. I really hope they do.

[rhaenys-queenofkhyrulzz]

Mctna modern au headcanon

This is so ooc but pls forgive me 🙏🙏

A 32 year old Seon-ho sits down in the corner of a bar by himself. It's barely past 9 but most people have already left. The ice in his drink had long since diluted whatever cheap alcohol he'd ordered. He closed his eyes as a band started up on the makeshift stage, losing himself in the music and his memories.

And I met her downtown in the slums of Austin Once we were sober, she said "I'm from Boston" I told her, "I couldn't give Massa-two-shits" Luckily, she likes guys that treat her like

Third-year uni student Seo Hwi gives in to his friends Mun-bok and Beom to at least attend one party before graduation. It's not that he doesn't like them- in fact everyone agrees he'd probably be the life on them. He just doesn't see the point in partying with a massive group of strangers when he'd much rather just have a good time with his friends.

Enter Nam Seon-ho. He's in the same year but mainly keeps to himself. Still, that doesn't stop him from stealing glances at that one handsome, always-smiling Culinary Arts student. He decides to go to this party and get blackout drunk 'cause once he graduates, he'll be stuck back at home with his dad learning the ropes of his company.

They reach the venue (a rundown off campus house with shitty LED lights all over the place) that night. Mun-bok quickly leaves Hwi to chat up a pretty girl by the drinks table and one of Beom's other friends beckons him away. Hwi feels a bit stranded so he gets his own drink.

He makes small talk with some people but an hour later he's bored. He goes to get another drink when he sees Seon-ho, the 'kinda beautiful actually' business major he sometimes sees walking around campus, chugging back some disgusting mix of drinks like there's no tomorrow.

Help me, everyone calls me Mickey Just wanna be your darling

Hwi wants to approach him but Seon-ho talks to him first, thanks to some good old liquid courage. They hit it off really well even if Hwi makes one too many corny jokes. One thing leads to another and then they're making out in the corner before stumbling their way into Seon-ho's apartment. Sung-rok curses when the door to their dorm slams open and throws a book at Hwi who barely dodges it. He's grumbling something about 'damn self-destructive tendencies' as he makes it out of the room just before they're making out again.

A couple months pass and they're actually a couple now. They graduate and move back to Seoul. Seon-ho takes up a job at his dad's company while Hwi is now a new hire at some fancy restaurant. Things are good for the while. They're happy and making time to see each other. In fact, they're almost unhealthily dependent on each other.

So, listen, I know you're probably with him And maybe for good reason But, you don't fuckin' need him I warned you

But as the years go by, they're getting busier and Seon-ho is getting more stressed at work because of Nam Jeon. He starts drinking more and more. It doesn't help the fact that the owner of the restaurant Hwi works at, Yi Bang-won, has started to take an interest in him. This gives way to lots of arguments between them. Why talk it out when they could just fight and fuck instead? Plus, Seon-ho gets to the point where he's almost always drunk when he's off work and has even started to get high.

Maybe stop getting your advice from the guy you get your high from

Hwi can't bear to see the love of his life- because they both know; that's what they are to each other- destroying himself day by day. Especially when it puts Yeon in danger because of it.

How can I love someone that can't stand The thought of loving me back? Why do I think I need that? I know you, pick me But one day, babe, you'll thank me For teaching you how to leave A piece of shit just like me I warned you

They break up.

Everything goes to shit. Seon-ho is convinced Hwi hates him and that Bang-won had a role to play somehow. Seon-ho overdoses. Nam Group gets involved with this huge drug scandal. In the midst of this all, Seo Geom passes away in jail after wrongful imprisonment and Yeon develops epilepsy. Hwi's mind is so clouded with worry, grief and anger, he's convinced that the Nam family was responsible for those fake charges. Seon-ho and Hwi hate each other.

Yeah, I remember when you said how you wish that I was dead So, I tried to kill myself Swallowed way too many pills And god the tummy-ache was shit But not enough to kill the kid

Against his will, Seon-ho survives. Nam Jeon shipped him off to rehab, telling his failure of a son to keep his head down and listen to him. For the next 6 years, the only confidant he has is Sung-rok. He and Hwi don't talk anymore, even if they both hate and yearn for each other each day.

Sometimes I wish I didn't live But I'm so fucking glad I did I remember what you said You were wishing I was dead Now, you're wishing me the best 'Cause my song's stuck in your head

In the present day, miles away, Hwi is listening to the same song on the local radio station as he's washing wares in his kitchen sink. He'd uncovered the truth about Bang-won about 2 years ago. By then, all forms of communication between him and Seon-ho had been cut. He felt such horrible guilt for blaming Seon-ho for getting Seo Geom imprisoned after their breakup as some horrible form of revenge. He'd sunk to the floor, tears welling up in his eyes when he recalled the last words he'd hurtled at him, "You pretend to be so different from him but you're just like your father!"

As Hwi puts a dish on the drying rack, he sighs deeply to himself . His heart constricts painfully in his chest. Even though he can't forgive Seon-ho for getting Yeon hurt those years ago, he hopes that he's doing well wherever he is. He just wishes he could make things right between them.

I'm so glad I still exist Just so I can rub it in

In the bar, Seon-ho gets up to leave, the condensation from his unfinished drink pooling at its base on the table. He wonders what Hwi would think of him if he saw him now. When he realised he was all alone in this world, he'd made it his mission to at least quit getting high out of sheer spite.

You were perfect and I'm so sorry I'm such a dick But you still love me I still regret letting you leave me Don't you forget you used to need me

Now, Seon-ho knows that they'd both had parts to play in the train wreck of their relationship. They were both argumentative near the end and were never willing to compromise their own values for the other. At his lowest points, he'd wondered what would happen were he to lose his wretched pride. He and Hwi could've talked to each other. The heavens knew they were so fundamentally flawed and yet, they understood each other in ways no one else could.

Seon-ho looked up at the stars and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. Hwi, if you can hear this...I'm sorry.

In his home, Hwi's heart suddenly felt a bit warmer.

For as much as both men had and still hated each other, they'd always loved each other far more.

[ya-boi-haru]

Giving some irl advice I wish I was told, cause you never know who needs to hear it.

1) If you are in (high)school:

It. Does. Not. Matter!

I remember being told this when I was in school and thinking "Maybe it was easier for you. You don't understand the pressure I'm currently under"

And now I know it truly doesn't matter.

I knew I wasn't going to do well in my HSC (final exams) and yet I was going for an ATAR anyway. I could drop down, out of ATAR maths cause I knew it would fail me more. And low and behold, for the first time in 6 years, I didn't dread going to math class.

I went for my ATAR INCASE I went to Uni (college) it's been 5 years and it's the last thing I want to do. Not that It would have helped, cause it was so low.

My highest test scores (Band 3 & 4) was for the 2 classes I actually cared about, and that's what I was happy with.

Lesson: Dont stress yourself out with highschool, that amount of stress and anxiety wasn't worth it for me.

Also cut off/block all the bitches that you went to school with, they aren't worth your precious time.

2) When going for a job interview:

Ask them why they're hiring.

I've worked at a couple places where I've thought "No wonder they're understaffed"

Ask them why they're looking for people/ what happened to the last lot.

If they say they moved on to other opportunities that may be true but maybe ask if there was anything else, just to safe. If they say that had to be fired ask why so you can learn from mistakes/ know what to expect.

I went to work for a company for 3 months and I've never been fucked around so hard in a job (that's a whole other story for another post) and later I had another women telling me she lasted a week before she quit.

Lesson: know what you're getting into

[ruthlesslistener]

I can't actually delve much into pharloom and Deepnest yet since we don't know much about them, which is why I cut the "essay" in the OG post short.

But if I were to say anything I'd say that Pharloom feels very Christian to me, while Deepnest is very much not, though I can't say which culture they're coded as. Which is fascinating because pharloom clearly accepts immigrants, or pilgrims as we saw in the trailer. It suggests to me that Pharloom is only accepting immigration from nations they deem "civilised", aka bug Christian, or at least willing to assimilate.

However the weavers are not willing to assimilate, and even if they were they look so different to the average bug, which means they cannot. I may be projecting but it's like how if you're a brown middle Eastern guy you can't exactly assimilate into western culture even if you wanted to cause you're not white.

Because of this pharloom keeps the weavers only for their labour and away from the eyes of tourists and pilgrims, to continue this facade of a "civilized" nation, afraid that the "barbaric" (aka not bug Christian) reputation of the Deepnest immigrants would taint that.

It's similar to how if you were to be hired into a factory job here in Europe or any major labor intensive job that is away from the eyes of the public it's filled with immigrants, as if the company knows that they'll accept harsher conditions. No I'm not speaking from personal experience whatever gave you that idea, heh, but seriously it's fucked I hope hornet tears pharloom into shreds.

op i am SO sorry that i didn't answer this in over a month. I did not expect to be as busy as I was when I got back from winter break and this was one of those asks where I really wanted to sit down and just read through it and have time to think of an eloquent reply to add more to the conversation, but then I got smacked with the requirement to read a dry 500-page book on why some biochemist thinks that the mitochondria is the key to everything we do in our lives

But! Now that I (kinda) have the time!! Hard agree with you!!! Pharloom is indeed very Christian-coded, what with the rosaries and all, and even though we know very little about it rn, there does seem to be a strong form of hierarchy going on that wasn't present in Hallownest- at least, not as a whole. While the caverns of Hallownest were formed by separate native tribes that each had their own culture, god, and internal hierarchy, Pharloom was said to be a land that you had to work your way through 'from the ground up' to reach the gilded capital, which is...quite a familiar phrase to anyone who is an immigrant or child of an immigrant family that came to America seeking some form of wealth or freedom that their original country couldn't offer. Similarly, Pharloom seems much more densely-packed and messy compared to Hallownest, where again, each tribe had their own territory that they defended and cultivated to their own liking. Pharloom, on the other hand, feels like a city where there's floods of new immigrants and pilgrims coming in seeking something that it's offering to them, but only the most desirable of the bunch will get what they want. And if you're not, then, well...good luck with that. You can try working your way up the ladder, but you won't get very far. You never will. It's all a sham, and those who notice it will get nothing out of it.

(the fact that they captured Hornet in a cage gives me a very uneasy feeling about the potential of slave labour, but at the same time, that seems hardly out of the ordinary for Pharloom. I'm also kinda creeped out by the implication that the Weavers were originally from Pharloom but fled to Hallownest, then were forced to go back to their homeland come the Infection, because that's not really something we've seen yet so far. Even the Moths seem to have simply assimilated into the City of Tears when the Pale King and White Lady uprooted the Radiance, and by Seer's words, they did so willingly. That the Weavers had no choice is...sinister, to say the least)

Also big agree on hoping that Hornet tears Pharloom a new one. She got to be princess protector over a dying kingdom for so long, now she deserves to tear the guts out of a rotting cesspit on the verge of death.

[whomstress]

Everyone is doing a witch hunt on the artist that did the cover for Wonder Women and Power Girl are messed up. They already gave proof and sketches, and people still want him to "fess up." If you look at their Instagram, they do traditional art in the same style in live time. The inconsistencies everyone is pointing out are nitpicking. And thinking just because an artist is super good, they can't have them is stupid. Their people, not machines they don't work on each part like a mirror.

The eyes thing is bullshit too. One eye is gleaming and lighter cause of the sun, and the other is duller because it's in the shade. That is literally taught in art classes. Just like

I get everyone wants ai to be held responsible, but this man is the exact person that ai is stealing so much from that people call his style "generic." Like you realize, if you're wrong, he'll never have a job in the industry again because it looks bad for the company, right? Like this man is already getting his artstyle, he's worked years and countless hours on stolen by millions of people because of programming, and people are now blaming him for it.

Also most people recognize he's an amazing artist and the orignal sketches are his so why the fuck are you going after him and not DC who supposedly hired the artist to ai himself.

[sinnerzforsaintz]

Mathurin liked to consider himself a good worker. He was loyal (so long as he got a paycheque), intelligent (enough to pass most of his work off to interns), and innovative (if only in his own mind). He’d been enjoying a rather cushy lower rung management position for what was close to 7 years, and vying for a position higher than that. He felt it was owed to him.

And then, a month ago, his shots at a promotion all came tumbling down, with one fell swoop. “Clearly she slept with him.” He says, and his coworker flicks a disbelieving look at him.

“No comment.”

“She’s even living with him.”

“I don’t think Vox would hire, or give her as much control as she’s assumed if that were all it is.”

“No, no, look at her, she’s such a bitch and he seems endeared.”

“Mathurin, stay out of it.”

“Do they think we’re falling for their charade?” He says, ignoring the warnings, on a tirade. “She wore one of his shirts a week ago.”

“Yeah, on the day the entire building’s water stopped.”

“What does she even do? What does she know about this company? I’ve poured hours into this! And what does it get me?”

“Still alive?”

“Mark my words, when she stops being a bit of tits and fluff, or doesn’t fawn over him, she’ll be out! And I’ll be there… ready to show what a real man could do for this company.”

(Note: Mathurin is also the same of the patron saint of lost causes and idiots).

Normally, Vox wouldn't get involved in the office gossip, only because he usually sat in front of his screens, watching everyone talk shit about each other. But today he just so happened to be around to over hear, well, maybe not every word but enough to know where this one thought he stood.

Now, he knew damn well, Hellaina could handle this without him stepping in and he knew this guys opinion didn't matter in the slightest. It was clearly some form of jealousy. He just couldn't tell what Mathurin was more jealous of, that Hellz took his long sought after position or that she wasn't fucking him...or maybe, it was that he wasn't fucking him. It almost made him laugh to think about.

Well, who was he to deny the guy his chance to tell him just how fitting he was for the position Hellaina had so graciously 'fucked her way into'. It was only fair, right? He thought he was so much better suited for it and thought Hellaina was just a nice set of tits that kept his dick wet. If only it were that easy but if Mathurin thought he could do better, why not make him prove it? He was in a mood to fuck with someone, anyway.

Chuckling, Vox dragged a claw along the desk to gain Mathurins attention, giving it a tap before folding his arms behind himself.

"....Well, if you think you'd do a better job filling her position, you could have applied. I'm always looking for an ass kisser that can sit pretty under my desk, while I'm in meetings." He grinned. "I mean, that's all Hellaina is doing, right? Maybe I do need a 'real man' to show me what he can do for 'my company'. Obviously, you'd be better suited then a lesbian that's only sleeping with me to keep her job. I suppose you would have a better offer then just keeping your job, right? Perhaps you might want to keep your life a little longer, instead?" He stated with a wave of his hand as his tone changed from menacingly cheerful to annoyed before he reached out that hand to drag the man closer.

"Just because the new bitch in the building is a woman, doesn't mean she isn't every inch as qualified as you think you are. I don't have to sleep with her to know she is capable of handling her job because she didn't whine for it like you are. She actually had the balls to take it for herself, something I know a piss head like you, wouldn't have even crawled out from your mother's skirts long enough to even fucking try."

"So, next time you think you belong in a position you rather cry about not having, I hope you're really good at showing me just what you can do for my company because next time, I'm going to show you exactly how you can contribute to this company... got it?" He warned as he released the other, giving him a pat on the cheek with a well deserved zap.

"Now get back to work and the next time you see Hellaina in the building, you better kiss the fucking ground she walks on because she's the reason you aren't already dead. You understand me?"

[sad-trash-hobo]

Skill assessment (derogatory)

[toshima-division]

Mei's Thoughts on Shinagawa Division

Ritsuko Okada

"...You know I normally don't complain about my job details. I mean, as long as you pay me, I couldn't care less what you want me to do. ...But what the hell was the Prime Minister thinking by having me guard this bitch?! I've stared down fuckin' King Cobras that have more feeling or personality than this cold-hearted snake. She kept asking me if I'd like to 'assist' her in in her experiments.

"Eventually, I got fed up enough to tell her to stay the hell away from me unless she wants to suffer 3rd-degree burns. She just smiled at me, and walked off. She hasn't bothered me since then, thank the Goddess. Seriously, I know its none of my business, but how the hell does Kaori stand dealing with that bitch every damn day?! If it were me, I'd have fuckin' knifed her by now!"

Miho Kobayashi

"Ugh, and here we have Bitch #2. Truthfully, I don't mind this woman so much. Hell, I respect her for her determination and for being where she is on the corporate ladder. But when we first met, I could tell right off that she disliked me. If you're wondering how I know her, it was cause I ordered to accompany Kaori to her 'music festival thing' that this wench's company was sponsoring. I met her, and she just scowled at me and walked right past me, which was odd since I can't recall doing anything they may have offended her.

"Later on, I found out she was pissed at me cause apparently I cost her company billions of dollars of stock when I killed Mafuyu... yeah, the guy whom I used to work for before I jumped ship to Chuohku. Anyway, Mafuyu Enterprises and E.L. Medical Co. apparently had a partnership and when the CEO died, all of the stock went with it, which cost her company millions of dollars. ...Not the most valid reason for being pissed at someone, but I guess its better than nothing.

"Still though, she's a fuckin' CEO of a company. I'm sure she makes twice what was in those stocks on a weekly basis. So get the fuck over it! ...Or don't. I really don't give a fuck."

Sumire Shinomiya

"If you'd told me before I met this girl's wench of an aunt that the two of them were related, I'd have looked at you sideways and knocked you out for lying and wasting my time. When I found out that they were actually related, well, needless to say, I was shocked. This girl is ten times more fun to be around than her aunt. She's not afraid to cause some chaos in any shape, way or form. Lillian doesn't seem to care for her, but oh well. I do.

"I told her once if she needed some advice on how to commit arson to look me up. The look on her face told me she'd definitely do that."

CodeX

"Ugh, Chuohku sure hires some weird-ass characters. I mean, I know I'm part of them now, but I'd like to think I'm a cut above the rest. I mean, seriously, why the hell is Otome putting a deranged sociopath in charge of a division team? I don't much care for Miho, but I hope her niece knows what she's doing teaming up with her. She's one of the few people in this country that I actually. Last thing I want to hear is that she ended up on the operating table somewhere cause she was the apprentice to a crazy-ass scientist."

[bonesandthebees]

ok sd anon with the Official Long Message Reply

ohio conceptually is so fucking weird but turns out my fifth grade best friend who moved away after a year is also here so we have been hanging out so much it’s so great she came w me to a few poetry open mics

also oh god how was covid experience i still haven’t gotten it knock on wood

fully do not understand how i have gotten bitches. how. what’s happening. i made rock candy w two other interns a few days ago and we threw a couple packs of pedialyte in there

also also ! bigger vodka person than tequila

also thank you!!!! i’m out here for an engineering internship i actually gave my final presentation to senior leadership yesterday! plant manager + every department head were there to hear the interns present abt their projects and oh my fucking god i thought questions and comments were just a formality THEY WERE NOT. my thing was a software data organizational structure to optimize pulling up relevant equipment data (eg boiler pressure) bc previously you needed a very specific code to find Anything now you can look up vague phrases and find what you want. this system is my baby. i have categorized over 1600 pieces of data and associated them to the correct equipment and system.

ANYWAYS at one point a guy was like okay so a) how is this not already implemented everywhere and b) how do we turn this into a [company] global engineering standard. i am in Shock. also i think they hired me part time over the school year to do the same kind of work i’m doing right now! did not think i would end up basically a software consultant. also i am 20 why the fuck am i getting responsibility.

how has your summer been??? i feel like i have talked in Detail about mine lmao how have the summer classes been? i’m taking a physics one online rn it’s annoying af. did you take that sf trip??? do you know what you want to do for work? also you’re in a good city for it! sd is one of the two big biochem biotech hubs aside from boston! tbh i’m probably going to end up coming back there in the end bc i’m biochem engineering

also cause the company i’m interning with takes 150 interns Total bc they said they put effort into us So they can hire us, not so they can train us to work for other people so. basically i almost certainly have a guaranteed next year internship and hopefully basically guaranteed full time job when i grad!! number one engineering internship in the country <3

yoooo open poetry mics that's so fun!!! also wild as fuck to run into your old friend like that, we love fate playing funny little games with us. so glad you guys got to reconnect!!

covid sucked but thankfully wasn't super serious. i was so feverish and out of it for the first day, then it gradually got better day by day. i'd say the only concerning thing was when i had an episode of super severe chest pain like my second night i was sick?? i mean i had the same kind of chest pain the day after i got the second dose of the vaccine, and I was fine after that so I didn't do anything about it? but yeah that was definitely a scary moment of oh god should I go to a hospital... nah i'm probably fine

pedialyte?? in rock candy???? was that good??? also i'm very happy for you for getting bitches but also i'm jealous wtf when will it be my turn i just want a girlfriend

so fair!! tbh I like vodka better than tequila too. while I like the taste of tequila in cocktails more, I like the kind of drunk I get from vodka better. it's uhh cleaner I guess? a cleaner kind of drunk if that makes sense

also holy shit that's so cool?? you sound SO smart sd anon goddamn good for you. that honestly sounds like a super useful system, and i can't believe you got a job!! that's fucking amazing!! you're doing such big things, that's so cool honestly. I'm so happy your engineering stuff seems to be working out for you <33

my summer has been good!! my uni has two rounds of summer classes, so for my first round I finished the classes and got an A in one and a B in the other so we win these :) now i'm on my second round and I had to read a super dense research paper today about synthesizing malaria drugs and one of the questions was like "use what you learned in biochemistry and molecular biology to explain the nomenclature of these mutation names" and I took both of those classes a full year ago so I just fucking blue screened

the non school parts of my summer have been alright! mostly I just hung out with my best friend whenever I was down in SD for classes, and she also drove up to LA a few times. we were trying to spend as much time as possible together because she got a job with the NIH in DC so she's moving there for 2 years. she left about a week ago and i miss her sm already, but I'm really glad we got to spend a lot of time together before she moved. she's shown me so many great bars in SD (including the one I recommended to you!), definitely gonna use that knowledge for the future

also no we did not take the sf trip it just didn't work out :(

no I don't know what I want to do for work aaaa I wanna do something writing related but idk I might just get a gig as a lab tech for a bit since I have all the qualifications for it thanks to my ~bio degree~ and my lab experience. just so i have something to do while i figure out how to break into the writing industry. (I need to figure something out though my mom desperately wants me to work for her and while the fashion industry is cool I really do not wanna work for my mother again. I did it for one summer already and that was enough) (the work itself is fine my mom is just more of a hardass on me compared to a normal employee bc I'm her kid lol)

omg biochem engineering!! another friend of mine who was also biochem engineering is moving to boston bc she got accepted to a PhD program over there right out of undergrad. I was so impressed

god im just. adulthood. please. i'm not ready fuck.

[mangodestroyer]

Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure my store would still be making lots of money if my wage was doubled.

Yes, I am aware that there is a fuck ton of labor that goes into running a clothing store. You have to pay the accountants, marketing team, upper management, truck drivers, customer service representatives, supervisors, and so much more. And sometimes, merchandise gets handled quite a bit. It needs to be kept neat, organized out onto the floor, go through price changes now and then, etc.

Thing is, I, a single employee, work with LOTS of merchandise everyday. Mere penny's worth of my labor goes towards a single unit, if even that. And the raw materials and labor that went into PRODUCING those clothes probably isn't as much as people think. It's pretty obvious these clothing items are being marked up at absurd prices so that you think you're getting a deal when you get a 20% off coupon or whatever.

Also, I wasn't even hired on as a service desk employee. And yet I often find myself working the till during a 4-8 hour shift. This isn't even the busiest time of the year for us, but it's really not uncommon for the place to be bustling with activity. And while working the register, I easily ring up tons of orders that are at least $50. Hell, I often find myself ringing up orders in the $150 to $300 range, with the occasional $500+ purchase. I'm also selling credit cards on top of that, which also earn the company lots of money because of the fact that these cards have a high interest rate and most people wait to pay them off when their bill arrives in the mail/online.

Not only that, but I also fill online orders sometimes. Whether that be through store pickup or through mail.

So I pretty much know how to do almost everything in the store. Aside from supervising and some operations tasks (even if I still help out with trucks and whatnot). I can do all of this fairly efficiently. ESPECIALLY since I've been working here two years. And within an hour, I can easily end up selling so much merchandise, that the money earned just from me alone ends up being far, FAR more than my weekly wage. Just in that hour.

So, yeah. How can you even justify giving the average worker a measly $12.50 an hour? Let alone one who is more experienced and efficient? With the cost of living these days, it just isn't ethical. Rent is insanely high, gas prices have gone up, and food isn't getting any cheaper. If my wage was doubled, I might actually be able to live on my own.

No, shit. Companies are greedy af. This is why I'm happy for the worker strikes and hope they do cause serious damage for the CEOs. The U.S. owns 25% of the world's wealth, so poverty shouldn't even be nearly as much of an issue as it currently is. And no one needs a billion dollars. Give me a break!

I've also become disgusted by how materialistic we are as a culture and try to cut back on frivolous purchases. I mean, I see people come here multiple times a month, buying so much dumb shit for their wardrobes that they really don't need. I once had a girl come in purchasing $400 worth of clothes. Admitting this wasn't the first time she'd done so that month. That she'll have to get a third job to support her shopping addiction when she already works 60 hours a week. Ngl, I kind of wanted to slap some sense into her right there and then. Just why??? She's already so busy, so she probably doesn't have much time to even enjoy the outfits she's wearing. And tbh, I doubt many people are giving it much thought either. And if you don't need to work more than 60 hours a week to survive, why the fuck would you? Wouldn't you rather, idk, pick up a hobby or something? Hang out with some friends? Spend some time out in the sun?

I guess capitalism isn't my thing.

[touyaspeach]

Gojo Satoru x afab! Reader

A/N ; This fic was SO much fun!! Written for @cyancherub 's Wheel of Misfortune collab, day 13. The theme was Gojo + Hell + Voyeurism.

Summary ; You are CEO and Archdemon Gojo Satoru's secretary in hell, and you're sick and tired of his salacious antics on company time. In fact, you're the only person in the entire building he hasn't fucked, so what will you do when you walk in on him moaning your name while balls deep in a co-worker? Words ; 4.1k Warnings ; afab reader, demon gojo, hellish imagery, slut shaming, really foul language, I mean it's hell afterall. Vaginal sex, dirty talking, oral (f), man idk what to warn you for I'm sorry. Thanks ; @cyancherub for the collab and ideas, @katonshoko for the banner, @a-shy-blueberry , @alicesfracturedmirror and @c-qcatwrites for beta-reading!

You did not want to go to work today. There were a million reasons why, but the fact that you had an office job in hell… Well, isn’t that enough on it’s own? Your own little slice of hell wasn’t too bad, honestly. You had benefits, paid vacation, weekends off; the works. But you also had an insufferable boss and a myriad of gossiping co-workers. Yeah, it was definitely hell, there’d be no mistaking it.

Steeling your resolve, you sucked a deep breath in between your teeth and strode towards the wrought-iron gated entrance of your building. Your heels clacked loudly on the cobblestone. Above you, the sky swirled in red and orange with great plumes of smoke churning like ominous galaxies, around you a myriad of creatures went about their daily lives.

A gaggle of goblins giggled menacingly as they leapfrogged over each other, their disproportionate feet and tiny bodies causing one to trip, to which the others only laughed harder. An undead minotaur paused to examine his hoof, and pulled out… was that a human tooth? A carriage flew past, heralded by a trio of beefy-looking hellhounds. Screams of unknown origin pervaded the air. Business as usual.

The succubus at the front desk greeted you with a salacious smile and a wink. You exchanged pleasantries as usual. Using your keycard you clocked in, letting the retina scanner confirm it was you. You never got used to feeling another eyeball pressing against your own, but well, that was just how things were done down here. The conventional was unconventional, the horrific and dastardly were ordinary.

You stepped over a stinking pile of entrails to make it to the elevator, the sweet calming sounds of crying and screaming played over the speakers to soothe your nerves. Just as the door started to close, one of your co-workers, a pretty petite demon with massive tits, scurried towards you. She had short, stubby horns protruding from her forehead, and cloven feet accentuated by the rusted color of her skin. She was stunning, but most of your co-workers were. Your boss made sure of that.

Against your better judgement, you held the door for her as she hopped over the rotting guts.

“Thank you so much!” she panted, “I thought I was going to be late! I have a meeting with Gojo today, so I had to make sure I was extra prepared. You know how it goes.”

She chattered at you, pulling out a compact from her bag to fix her hair and make-up on the descent. Oh yes, you knew how it went. It was the same every day. Your boss, Gojo Satoru, CEO, and archdemon, was a notorious playboy. He made sure to hire the sexiest, most vapid employees just so he can get his rocks off. They didn’t mind.

But you did, and not because of your boss’s obscene escapades; but because you’d never gotten a taste of it for yourself. Sure he’d tried, he’d invited you in for one of his “meetings”, and tried to kiss you. But you were new, then, and denied his advances. You were probably the only person in the building that hasn’t cum on your boss’s cock.

The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the proper floor, and you stepped out in tandem. The office was typical; separated into cubicles with drab, hellish decor. You passed by the carnivorous, flesh-eating plant for the hundredth time, it snapped lazily at you. The phone at reception rang, the sound of blood gurgling up in someone’s throat. Lights flickered as a wayward soul screeched past you, almost knocking into a different co-worker who snatched it by its tail and swallowed it in one gulp. He let out a disgusting belch after, wrinkling his snout.

“Eugh, they just letting any ol’ sinner in these days?” he spat, his piglike appearance and long tusks curving into a devious smile when he looked at you, “Mornin’ ladies. Heard someone’s got a meeting with the big wig. Have fun, cupcake.”

You scoffed at him, of course, this sort of talk was common, it’s hell. Everyone knows what your boss gets up to, and nobody cares, really. Actually, it’s often a topic of conversation, and though Gojo mostly had a preference for more feminine bodies, he did take on more masculine lovers from time to time. Everyone in your office had the pleasure of going dumb on his dick, except for you.

Walking past the maze of cubicles, you made your way to Gojo’s office, stopping to grab him a bagel with scream cheese spread, and hellfire salmon - his favorite - and a cup of bubbling hot ichor. Coffee didn’t exist here, so to compensate whoever made the hot morning beverage of the day just kind of… brewed whatever. Today was ichor, yesterday was slime, tomorrow could be cum. Who knows?

Using your elbow to nudge the door to his office open, you greeted your boss as warmly as possible. “Good morning, I got your favorite.” Okay, maybe not too warmly. You were pent up and frustrated, after all.

“Ah~ Thank you so much y/n, such a wonderful assistant, waiting on me without even being asked. A perfect little employee,” his voice was lilting and playful, and though he had his back turned, you could hear the cocky smile in it.

“Of course. Would you like me to go over the schedule for today, or shall I start reviewing the reports?”

“Hmmm? I wonder,” he spun around in his high-backed chair, it was made of gross-looking tan leather, about the colour of human skin, and two horns protruded from the top. Your boss was, as always, handsome as ever. The blindfold he wore obscured his eyes, his white hair fluffed atop his head, he also wore a perfectly tailored black business suit with a blue tie. The jacket was unbuttoned, revealing the dark grey shirt beneath and a cocky smirk played on his lips.

Two sloping horns jutted out from his head and curved backward. They were sleek and black, and complemented by the sharp point of his ears.

“Let’s review the schedule first, y/n, then you can be a good girl and do your reports, ‘kay?” When he opened his mouth to smirk, it was as if he was intentionally showing off the sharp fangs behind his lips. They captivated you, and you wondered what it’d feel like to taste them. To run your tongue along them and test just how sharp they were.

“Right,” you said, drawing your eyes away from his face. You sat his breakfast down on his desk and flipped open your planner. “Okay, in an hour you have your meeting with Xan, which should last for about three hours,” you internally rolled your eyes, a generous amount of time for what would transpire in said meeting. You smirked behind your planner at the thought. “After I’ll need your approval on the new employee resumes. Lunch. Then another meeting with Xan, for another three hours, and it looks like you have someone else scheduled for the same time, though I was never given a name?” You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t offer an explanation so you continued. “A phone call with HR to discuss some new workplace policies comes next, and then you have an hour or two of freedom before the end of the day.”

He studied you carefully, you could tell even through the mask, that his eyes were hungrily raking over you. You hadn’t worn anything unusual, a button-up blouse and pencil skirt, just typical office attire. But he was still a pervert, so of course, he was probably trained on your tits.

You assumed so, anyway.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re dismissed. Bring me those reports when you’re finished, my meeting shouldn’t last too long.”

Although you smiled and nodded at him as sweetly as possible, you were scoffing internally. He really was such an ass. So full of himself, insufferable, cocky- You nearly ran into Xan on your way out, you sidestepped as quickly as you could and she shot you a nasty look. As if to say, ‘Don’t get any funny ideas. Today he’s mine.’ As if you’d ever do such a thing.

Stupid, sexy Gojo. Stupid boss. The profanities and name-calling continued internally as you set about the task at hand. You were only a quarter into those damned reports when another co-worker, a curvaceous looking hellhound of a woman whose name you didn’t care to remember, plopped down beside you. She groaned, slumping in the chair.

“Y/n you’re so lucky Gojo hasn’t gotten to you yet,” she whined, “Getting fucked that good and not getting called back sucks so much. I mean, have you heard the stories? He literally made me cum like twelve times, it was ridiculous. And he’s so hot, like all of that is wasted on Xan! You must pity me, y/n, it’s so hard to hear them going at it and only getting to remember how good his cock feels.”

“Yeah, no offense but I really do not care,” you shot back.

“Come on, there’s got to be a reason, right? Why you haven’t been called in for a meeting with him?”

“There is, and it’s none of your business.”

“See, I think it’s ’cause you’re the only one here too stuck up to -”

“Listen, can’t you see I’m trying to get some fucking work done. Can you take those massive fake tits and go be a bimbo somewhere else?”

With a scoff and a nasty look, she left you alone with your reports.

Of course, just as she left you saw something on the current one that would need Gojo’s approval, and it looked too urgent to ignore. So, despite your better judgement, you decided to prove yourself right by barging in on his meeting. Didn’t he say not to worry about it? That it wouldn’t last long?

You paused with your hand on the door, it took you a moment to realize what you were hearing but once the sound filled your ears, your blood froze. Gojo’s meeting was still in progress, that was obvious by the sound of skin slapping and furniture rattling combined with her stupid, slutty moans. But the thing that really got to you, the thing that you almost couldn’t believe, was the pure filth that spilled from your boss’ mouth. Pure filth, directed at you.

“Fuck, y/n, fuck yourself on my cock. Yeah just like that you nasty whore, look at you now. Always playing so hard to get, fucking teasing me, now you’re going stupid on my cock. I know how bad you want me, how much you get off from leading me on, fucking brat. How’s it feel, huh? Fuck!”

What?? What the fuck??? He was… your name… while… It took you a solid minute to process it. Didn’t he hate you? Didn’t he just love to antagonize and tease you?

“God, your pussy feels so good, clenching around me, oh fuck-”

You didn’t believe it. No way it was Gojo in there, fucking your co-worker while moaning for you. You had to know for sure, had to see it for yourself. So, as quietly as you could, you twisted the doorknob and cracked it open.

Sure enough, it was what you imagined. Xan bent over your boss’ desk, face completely fucked out with her stupid tongue hanging out of her stupid mouth, and Gojo going to town behind her. Every thrust rattled his desk, jolted her body, and for a moment you were worried about her seeing you. One look into her eyes told you that her mind was only on the dick that was currently re-arranging her insides.

Why were you so wet? Watching him fuck her but knowing he was thinking of you? Your panties were uncomfortably sticky, at the thought alone and now you were practically dripping. You watched a moment longer, and just as you were about to take your leave, something caught your interest.

Gojo’s face shifted, his head quirked slightly towards you. Fuck, he saw you. You knew it, and it sent even more slick pooling between your legs. His mouth twisted into a smirk, and even though his eyes were obscured by the blindfold you knew his gaze was locked on you.

“I know you fucking want me, y/n,” he groaned, picking up the pace and plowing into her even harder. “I know how bad you want my cock, how bad you want to be here.”

You hated to admit it to yourself, but he was right. You couldn’t deny the ache in your cunt, the months and months of teasing and banter just making the tension worse. You wanted him too, but your pride wouldn’t let you be just another one of his whores.

Would it?

Wouldn’t it?

“Yeah, you do, look at how fucking hungry you are for me. Why don’t you come in here and I can give you what you want?”

He pulled out of Jan or Van or whatever her name was, much to her confusion. When her eyes found you, though, she screamed a string of profanities at you.

“Fucking bitch, what do you think you’re doing ???” She made to cover herself and close the door, but Gojo was quicker. Grabbing her by the wrist, he was rather cruel.

“Get out.” His voice was cold, almost angry as he roughly pulled her up.

You could do nothing but stand, wide-eyed as she was shoved out and you were pulled in. In less than a second, his mouth was on yours, kissing you hotly, parting your lips to swirl his tongue around and taste you. You could fight your urges no longer as you melted into him, kissing him back, running your hands along his abs, down to where a white spattering of hair trailed up from his cock.

He pressed your hands down further as he kissed you, having you wrap your fingers around the length of him and helping you stroke him once, twice, until you understood what he wanted. You pumped at his dick as his tongue laved over your lips, getting spit all over your mouth and chin before he thrust it back into your mouth. You suckled on it, bobbing your head slightly which elicited a deep, throaty moan from him. All the while his own hands explored your body, unbuttoning your blouse, unzipping your skirt; shedding you of all your clothing. It was hot, heavy, and frantic. The culmination of too much sexual tension.

Pride be damned, he felt so fucking good under your touch.

Finally, he pulled back his assault on your mouth, grinning in that mischievous way that suited his pretty face all too well. “I knew you fucking wanted me, god your hands feel so fucking good. I can’t wait to feel that sweet cunt.”

He leaned back to watch you play with his dick, huffing out a sigh of pleasure as he did. He finally had you, after so long of teasing and prodding at you, you finally gave in. And fuck, he was glad you did, because looking at you now all flushed and panting just for him? It was better than his imagination.

“Gojo-” you whined as he slipped a hand between your thighs to rub slow circles on your clothed clit. He wanted to savor this, take his time, make you feel really good. It was an unfamiliar thing to him, normally he was only focused on his own pleasure, but with you it was different. He wanted you to cum, wanted you to feel good even if it meant neglecting himself.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n. How does it feel to have me play with your sweet cunt?”

You hummed, grinding down on his hand while yours continued to pump at his cock, “mmnn more, please. It’s not… not enough…”

He pulled back at your request, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You didn’t expect him to remove that blindfold; exposing three sets of gorgeous bright blue eyes rimmed with white lashes to match his hair. Six eyes. You didn’t expect him to kneel before you and shuffle in between your legs, pressing his face to your cunt and inhaling deeply while his hands kneaded the plush of your thighs.

“Fuck, you smell so sweet,” he said, looking up at you and licking his lips. Before you could even respond, however, he buried his face back into your core. Moving your panties aside, he licked a long, slow strip up your slit, gathering your essence on his tongue and moaning at your flavor.

He did this a few more times, just enjoying the way the press of his tongue made you shiver, and rewarding you with a quick flick to your clit on every pass. When Gojo felt your hands card through his hair, he latched onto your clit, eliciting a loud cry from you. He suckled on the sensitive pearl, using his tongue to circle it and cause you to moan more.

He pressed one, two fingers into your core, stretching you out for him and scissoring them inside you. You were so wet, your slick dripped down his hand, down his wrist, and he groaned into you. The vibrations caused you to shudder, your knees weak as he continued his assault. After a moment his fingers hit that perfect spot inside of you, combined with his mouth nursing your clit, you were getting dangerously close to the edge.

“G-Gojo I’m-” you whined, pressing yourself harder against the wall to keep yourself standing, “I’m gonna c-cum-”

At your admission, he picked up the pace, curling his fingers more to massage your sweet spot, laving his tongue over your clit harder, suckling with more intensity until you unraveled all over him. He groaned at the way your cunt fluttered around his fingers, at the way your pretty bud pulsed on his tongue with each contraction of your orgasm.

He slowly rode you through it, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible. Just as you thought you’d get a moment to breathe, he was standing, pulling you up by your thighs to pin you between him and the wall.

“Nnggh-Gojo-” you groaned, feeling his hard cock press against your sensitive pussy.

“Satoru.”

“S-Satoru,” you swallowed. Had he ever allowed anyone to call him by his given name? Were you so special that he specifically requested it?

“Gonna fuck your sweet cunt so good, y/n. Oh, Satan, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this. How many sluts I’ve fucked just imagining it was you? They’re so desperate for my dick they don’t even care when I call out your name, y/n, fuck,” he groaned the last word, rubbing his cock along your folds and coating himself in your slick.

“P-please I need you, Satoru, f-fuck me, please!”

“Yeah? Is that it? Want me to fuck you good and hard and show you what you’ve been missing?”

“Please, I -”

You were interrupted by Satoru plunging deep inside you, all the way up to the hilt. The stretch burned, his fingers weren’t enough to prepare you, but it felt good. Feeling him throb inside you, hearing his breath hitch as he finally got a taste of you, and the low, breathy moan that rattled in his throat was all too good.

“You feel…so much better...than I imagined…” he panted, and you were grateful he hadn’t begun moving yet, allowing you a moment to adjust to his girth. “Fuck,” he groaned again, and slowly started moving his hips. He drew his cock out of you slowly, so painfully slowly, before pressing it back in just as carefully.

“P-please, Satoru… I need more-”

He captured your lips with his once more, but this time the kiss was less sloppy and heated, and more… passionate. You didn’t know the man had it in him to be so tender, but here he was, being careful with you, being gentle with you. And all you wanted, was to fuck him out of your system so that you could move on with your life.

Satoru picked up the pace steadily until he was fucking you hard against the wall. Your knees hooked over his forearms with his hands planted on the wall as he pounded into your sweet spot over and over. Each piston of his hips had you both moaning, groaning into each other’s mouths as you continued to lap at each other’s tongues.

His muscle twisted around yours, applying a delicious amount of pressure, and you returned the favor. Neither of you cared when saliva dribbled down your chins, too lost in the moment and the feeling of finally getting to be with the other. His cock felt perfect, and the rumors must really be true because he knew just the right angle, just the right speed, everything to have you nudging closer to your release.

Your orgasm hit you suddenly, and you jolted with a cry, “C-cumming~!”

You felt Satoru throb inside of you, felt him get so close to the edge as you pulsed around his cock, but before he could release, he pulled out.

“Don’t…” he panted, “don’t wanna cum yet. Fuck. Come here.”

As if you had a choice, he pulled you away from the wall, carrying you to the large, plush chair he normally sat in and plopped down with you in his lap. Leaning back, his eyes raked over your body, unabashed and hungry. He massaged your tits as you lined up again, and sank down on him. His deft fingers tweaked at your nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger, drawing a sweet moan from your pretty lips.

“You’re so fucking perfect, y/n,” he all but growled, watching you bounce on his cock like he’d imagined so many times before. This new angle, somehow, was better than before. The head of his dick licking against your cervix, pressing into your sweet spot, dragging along your walls as you fucked yourself on him.

Satoru pulled you down, popping one nipple into his mouth and swirling around it with his tongue. He reached between you and rubbed against your clit with those practiced fingers, while the other hand worked on your other breast. He planted his feet and thrust his hips up, slamming you down onto him in such a way that had you crying out from pleasure. You were going to cum again and fast.

He was too, actually, and you could feel it in the way his pace sputtered, the way his cock seemed to swell inside of you, and it wasn’t long before he let out a low, deep groan against the flesh of your tit. He raked his teeth over the pebbled bud of your nipple before throwing his head back. Gripping your hips, he fucked into you harder, chasing his own release and bringing you over the precipice of yours.

You came, hard, all over his cock again. The feeling of you fluttering around him was too much, and he spilled deep in your cunt with a moan of your name. “Y/n...f-fuck, y-you feel incredible-” he praised, shooting rope after rope of hot, sticky cum into your deepest parts. You collapsed onto his chest, panting, and Satoru wrapped you up in his arms, holding you close in an intimate gesture you were positive none of the others had gotten.

You both stayed like this for a while, reeling, recovering. You could feel his dick softening, feel his seed leaking out and down; but it didn’t beat the way his arms felt around you, the way his chest heaved with each breath, the thrumming of his heart in your ear.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, “You’re amazing. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, and you just had to play hard to get. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go. You're mine, do you understand?”

“Wh-what?” you ask, lifting your head to look into those beautiful baby blues.

“I want you, y/n. You’re more than just a quick fuck to me. Let me take you out. Do it properly. There’s a restaurant in the seventh circle that has this amazing centaur burger with imp cheese. I bet you’d love it.”

“Wait, you want... To date me? Me???”

“Yes. If you’ll have me?”

“And you won’t fuck anyone else, right? Like… this is an exclusive thing?”

“Of course, y/n. Don’t you realize I’ve been waiting on you for ages? All of those conquests… just to get your attention? See your reaction? Get you to notice me?”

You were reeling now, for a different reason. “O-okay. Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.”

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)

gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀

read part one and two! | my masterlist

a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤

love, abi xxx

tagging: @datewithgianni

prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me

John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.

His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.

He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.

A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.

He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.

***

John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.

However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.

There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.

"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."

He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"

"I came to see you."

He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.

"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."

You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.

"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."

You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.

You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.

You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.

"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.

He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"

"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.

"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What are you fucking on about, love?"

"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."

John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.

"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"

He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.

"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.

"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.

He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.

"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.

"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.

"University up north does sommet to a woman."

"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."

"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."

He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"

"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."

"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"

"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."

He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.

"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"

"No, I figured that out on my own actually."

"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."

"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.

"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.

“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.

"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.

"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.

"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.

"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.

"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.

"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.

“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.

You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.

“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.

“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.

***

You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.

"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."

"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.

"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.

"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.

"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.

"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"

"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."

"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."

"Since you asked so nicely."

"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.

Shame you could only pick him once.