#The more human it LOOKS the less human I want it to ACT

[yearningaces]

Any ideas floating around in your head rn? I’m not asking for a full story or anything but I’m curious if there’s anything about the monster partners you’ve created that you wanna talk about but don’t have enough on/in you rn to write a full story about

I have very many very complex ideas that I have tried answering this ask with but seem to have a difficult time doing so, so please accept this major word tossing I’m handing out 

During pride month no less 

There’s something wrong with your husband. 

He’s by no means harsh, or cruel, and he’s far from brushing you aside no matter the day. That’s never been the issue. 

The issue is that he’s acting far more attentive. Which feels ridiculous to complain about, especially considering how many people want their husbands to pay them more attention, you sometimes feel silly for even saying anything about it but... but- 

“Honey? Is something the matter?” There he goes again, ears perked up as your very human husband seems far too in tuned to the slightest change in your very heartbeat from across the house. You peer out the window into the rows and rows of homes that line the block. 

“I’m fine, Ethan.” Because it’s silly to say he’s too understanding of every little thing for some reason. 

Ethan has been beside you for nearly seven years and married for the last four. He’s always been loving and considerate, and steadfast beside you, as well as a smartass at times. You loved him so much. He loved you even more. 

But Ethan went missing three years ago. On March 8th he went missing three years ago. 

His body was found April 24th two years ago, decomposing and rotted in a shallow grave by a creek in the woods far away from your shared home. 

Three years ago, you pleaded with everything in you to have your husband back, two years ago you knew you were a widow.  

One year ago, something answered your heartfelt cries. 

Today you have no idea what you are, a spouse, a widower, a partner, a mourner.  

Because Ethan is sitting next to you now, the cushions under him give way to his weight, his hand grasps onto yours in a silent show of support as he rests his head against the top of yours. He’s warm, and solid, and smells like the earth after heavy rain for the first time in months. 

But he still has a gravestone that marks his death date. You still leave flowers sometimes. He never goes to the graveyard if he can avoid it, and when he does go it’s like you can only see him or the gravestone, never together, never at the same time, your mind just blurs one or the other out. 

Then again, when was the last time you looked at his face? Saw him? Ethan is sitting right beside you, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders, cuddling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple in nothing but pure loving affection for you.  

But you don’t even remember if you’ve looked at his face and seen him since he came back. 

You remember what he looks like, you remember what he feels like, sounds like, smells like, taste like, but is it memories you’re reliving or is he here despite his body being lain in a grave as peacefully as one could be? 

“Ethan?” 

“Mmh?” His voice is soft right now, lips still pressed to your temple before he relaxes and presumably looks down at you.  

“...” What do you say? He’s never mentioned what happened or how he’s here and you don’t want it to be some illusion that’s broken when you question it. “I love you,” Your words are uncertain in tone but sincere in meaning and you can feel Ethan squeeze you just a bit closer. Just a bit tighter. 

“I love you, too.” His response is simple yet so warm. 

He’s here, and maybe that’s enough.  

- 

Ethan is almost the same he was ‘before’ as you’ve taken to calling it. Before he went missing, before his body was found and buried, before you woke up that morning to find yourself in his arms, bundled in bed as if he’d always been there.  

The biggest difference though, is his diligence. He wanders the house nearly endlessly if he’s not preoccupied doing something with or for you. It’s almost like patrolling, you sat back in the kitchen one night and watched him. His movements were scripted, precise, as if muscle memory made from years of doing something. He’d pass each window, placing a hand on the lock and locking it if it was unlocked, (You might have walked behind him and unlocked a few to see if he’d do it again and he would every time.) The same with the doors. He’d circle the house endlessly looping, guarding some unseen path or border he had established in his mind. The moment you called his name, he was beside you of course, but the principal seemed to be he’d do for or with you, and then go back to what he was doing. 

Sure, he’d come lay with you in bed every night when you were tired, but once you were deep asleep, he seemed to slip away to continue this endless patrolling behavior. He never commented on it, never explained it, if anything it seemed to be nearly as automatic as breathing. 

It was really harmless, so you never stopped it. 

It was harmless until you woke at 4 in the morning to the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen downstairs. 

You were quick to move down the stairs, wondering if he’d accidentally hurt himself, but no- 

What you saw was Ethan, as much of him as your mind seemed to process in that moment. His body? Sure. His hair? Blond and pushed back as usual. His hand? Holding up a stranger wearing a dark hoodie and jacket, his hand lifting the stranger by the throat. 

Now that should have been the most alarming thing. 

It wasn't. 

The most alarming thing was Ethan’s face. Black. Like a shadow had been cast over him, concealing every distinguishable feature on your husband's face except for one single eye, wide and enraged. A low crackled rumbling sounded from Ethan as he stood tall, holding the stranger up by the throat with far too much ease. “You don’t belong here.” His response is... both clear and confusing as he speaks to the stranger despite having no visible mouth or mouth adjacent movements. 

The intruder -probably just someone young and stupid going by the small backpack and no weapons despite him breaking into your home to most likely steal something- mumbles quiet pleading to be released, let him go he won't come back... 

Until he turns to you, “Please, please help me-” As the intruder’s attempted begging grows louder, it’s cut off by Ethan squeezing his throat far too tight as he then turns to look at you. 

This is the first time you’ve been able to truly process what you’re seeing as more than what you’re used to seeing and it's so empty. It’s his body, his hair, his head, but his face is so... clouded by some sort of unending darkness. His voice is as soft as when you’re both lounging in bed though. “Go back to bed, honey. I’ll be there shortly.” 

You don’t know what to do but... 

“It’ll be alright, go back to bed.” Ethan sounds so doting as he softly promises that things will be okay, and he means every word. He patrols every night for this reason, after all. He won’t be caught unaware again, he won’t be taken from you again, he won’t hear your heartbroken cries ever again, nor would he ever let you undergo anything remotely similar.  

Ethan is here, he’ll keep you safely tucked away from the monsters and the darkness outside of your little home, even if he’s part of it now, he refuses to act like it. So go back to bed, he’ll clean up the mess and be there soon. 

Go back to bed. 

[eldritchqueerture]

hi hello, back on da bullshit

@lighthouseshepard not sure if you want me to keep tagging you, so doing it just in case 💜

---

Getting ready for bed was, again, a quiet affair. The air between them felt tense, full of unspoken expectations that John didn’t know how to parse. He didn’t know how much descriptions Arthur now required of him, and he found it was a lot harder to tell where the man was directing his attention, watching him from a third person perspective. Was he supposed to… perform as a human now? Did he even know how to do that? He’d watched plenty of humans act out more or less meaningless tasks and gestures, but how did they know which ones were the right ones at any given time?

 But that he could figure out later. Right now, Arthur was far away from him (on the other side of the wall, in the bathroom), separate from him in a way he had never been before, and John suddenly realized, sitting at the edge of one of the beds, that what he was feeling was grief. It was the same thing that he had felt when he saw Arthur thrust Kayne’s dagger into his own throat and knew that the only way to save his life was to give himself over to the King and probably never see Arthur again; the same thing he’d felt for so long in the Dark World when the memories of his time on Earth and in the Dreamlands returned.

He was grieving the loss of Arthur.

He grimaced at himself, frowning at the irrationality of it. He hadn’t lost Arthur, he hadn’t lost anything – fuck, he literally gained a body, and with it the autonomy to do whatever the fuck he pleased. He could finally live a life of his own, without being dependent on Arthur to agree with him.

So why did it hurt so much?

The sound of water from the shower quieted and John waited, motionless, listening to Arthur softly muttering to himself at times, unable to parse the words. Eventually he emerged, already dressed in his sleep clothes, passing a hand along the wall.

“This is,” he spoke with a self-conscious laugh, “Significantly more difficult without you around.”

“I could help next time,” John offered without really thinking it through. Arthur raised his eyebrows slightly, a look of surprise morphing into embarrassment, and then into a carefully blank smile.

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied half-heartedly. John tucked whatever nauseating feelings that had elicited in him into a secure pocket of his mind, to be examined later, or perhaps never if he was lucky. “Uh, if you could direct me to the bed...”

“Right, yes. Forward a couple feet and then on the left, yes.”

“Thank you.” Arthur sighed as he sank down onto the mattress. “Fuck. That ritual really took it out of me.”

John hummed sympathetically, not looking at him. The way their beds were placed along the wall, sitting here, his back was towards Arthur. John had found that as long as he didn’t look back and they were both silent, he could pretend he was still in Arthur’s body, about to lay to rest like they always had. He didn’t know what to think of that desire.

“John?” Arthur asked, none the wiser of his inner torment.

“Yes?”

“Are you just sitting there?”

He realized he was. As obvious as this perhaps should have been, he realized he would also now require sleep.

He followed Arthur’s usual steps in preparing for bed and crawled under the covers after switching off the light. Arthur was still sat on his bed, following the sound of his movements with his head.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked after John had stopped moving. “You’ve been really quiet.”

John stared at the ceiling, trying to think of an answer that wasn’t a contradiction to everything he had said he wanted. Arthur had been right – even now all the physical sensations of textures and smells were less pronounced, easier to ignore. The one thing that bothered him the most, like a sharp splinter in the wound driving itself deeper and deeper with each passing moment, was the distance between him and Arthur. The way his voice sounded so far away and not right next to his ears. The way he would be able to just walk away from him now – and if John didn’t pay enough attention, he wouldn’t even notice.

“I suppose I’m just thinking about what comes next,” John said, not entirely untruthful. “Now, that we’re...”

“Yes, that’s a good question,” Arthur mused. “We have to consider what we want to do. I do want to pay Daniel a visit. And Marie! It will be good to see her again. And—And Noel... Maybe we could give him a call,” Arthur sighed. “I hope he made it out okay.”

John hummed in agreement.

“Well, either way,” Arthur continued. “Right now, we just need to sleep, all that is tomorrow’s worries. Are you...” he hesitated and let out a huff, apparently discarding the question he wanted to ask. Instead, he just quietly said, “Goodnight, John.”

John gripped the cold sheets tight in his fists, trying not to think of Arthur lying all too far away from him; of the fact that he couldn’t watch over him while he was asleep as well. Yet thoughts still crept to him like predators in the dark – did Arthur cradle his left hand to his chest like he usually did? Was he as acutely aware that it no longer belonged to John, as he himself was? Did it even matter to him that when he did that, he cradled John’s entire being to himself, and now...

His eyes started to sting, and he directly commanded himself to cut that strand of thought. He turned to the side facing Arthur, but in the dark, he could barely see the outline of his body under the covers. His chest tightened as he closed his eyes and willed his breath to slow. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

John’s first sleep was a fitful one. He couldn’t recall any dreams for all his wondering about what they felt like, but he woke up a few times during the night, with his heart beating fast, surprised at the number of limbs he could now move. Then, he’d be frantically checking for Arthur before memory caught up to him, and he’d sag back into bed with relief.

Not long after dawn, he finally gave up on trying to fall back asleep. Arthur was sleeping like a rock, and John wasn’t going to deprive him of this rare opportunity to rest. Instead, he got dressed and looked about the room.

Nothing really caught his interest as anything that could provide him with entertainment, aside from the window overlooking the entrance to the hotel. As he got closer to look out, he saw a family of four get out of the cab and walk into the hotel, the smaller child sleepily holding onto their mother.

Suddenly he wished for nothing more than to be able to go out there, experience the crisp, morning air on his face and listen to the slowly growing sounds of the city with his own ears. He looked back at Arthur – surely nothing would happen to him in this hotel room, right? No one knew they were here; Larson was dealt with, no one should be on their tail. There was no reason as to why John would have to sit here and wait for him to wake up – after all that was the reason for their separation, right? He was no longer bound to Arthur; he could just as well benefit from it.

He put on his jacket and, after a brief consideration, took out two bills from their wallet. With a last look back at Arthur – who hadn’t even so much as stirred – John left the room.

The hotel wasn’t busy at this hour. The only people he passed were the staff, who politely wished him a good morning. Only at the door did he realize he could have said it back.

The morning air felt chilly on his skin. He took a deep breath, smelling the exhaust fumes in the wind – not the most pleasant, but he’d take it. The streets were still mostly quiet, quite the contrast to the bustling city they had seen during the day.

He crossed the street and started walking forward, not really thinking where it would take him. He watched the shop clerks set up their stands and people hurrying off to work or run some other errands with a giddy feeling in his stomach. He realized he might get hungry now and frowned at the prospect of food. Arthur did seem to enjoy eating most of the time, but John could scarcely believe shoving things in his mouth like an animal would be that much of an exciting activity.

He walked for some time, taking in the unravelling landscape of the city. More people appeared on the streets as time went by, in automobiles, or horse-drawn carriages, and the combined sounds of it all created a sort of music in John’s ears that he could honestly get used to. The giddy feeling intensified, putting a soft smile on his face.

On the other side of the street, he saw a clothes shop that caught his attention. Spurred by a sudden impulse, he directed his steps there and entered, the little bell above the door happily announcing his arrival.

“Just a moment, be with you in a second!” Came from the backroom – a voice of a man by John’s estimations. He was glad to have a moment to look around before he was forced to interact – a little nervousness made him feel slightly jittery.

Looking around the shop, there were various shirts, pants, overcoats and accessories on display. His eyes were immediately drawn by a brown tie, laced with a golden thread. He brought a hand up to feel it between his fingers – the fabric was cool and smooth, and he could feel the lines of the thread under the pads of his fingers.

“Morning, good sir, what can I do for you?” The man appeared from the backdoor, and John jerked his hand back. He was older than Arthur, greying on top, with a big smile on his face. He spoke with a slight accent to his words, though John could not quite place it.

“I was just…” John faltered looking back to the tie.

“Interested in the ties? Anything specific you’re looking for?” He asked and approached John and the selection, rifling through the display to show him as much as he could. “The blue ones are especially in season, I find, though these red ones would positively fit you, sir.”

John did not especially care for the idle chatter, having his sights firmly on the first one he saw. He reached to show it to the shopkeeper.

“How much for this one?”

“Oh, that is a fine choice. I command your refined taste.” The man nodded with approval. “May I recommend a shirt to go with it as well? I have a perfect one to match—”

The whole affair took longer than John would expect. He refused the shirt the man had offered but ended up buying a hat. He also told him to keep the change, as he’d seen Arthur do many times, and a glimpse of a more genuine smile appeared on the man’s face.

After fixing the tie on his neck and bidding the shopkeeper goodbye, John exited to the street, feeling strangely more like himself. With the giddy feeling returning to his chest, he directed his steps back.

He returned to the hotel in good spirits, considering his lack of sleep and the general unfamiliarity with this physical form. It did seem like the longer he spent like this, the more comfortable he felt in his skin, so to speak. There was, however, a pit in his stomach at the prospect of speaking with Arthur, though he could not tell why.

The pit suddenly grew, swallowing every other feeling he might have felt, at the sight of the hotel room being empty.

Arthur’s bed was unmade, but that spoke to nothing as he usually didn’t bother with that unless they were leaving permanently. His bag and clothes were gone, however, and the worry grew as John searched the bathroom just to be sure. Arthur wasn’t there – that much was obvious – but with some relief he noted lack of any blood as well. Perhaps he saw John had gone out and went to look for him – blind, without anyone to guide him.

John cursed himself quietly and went out of the room. He made his way down by the stairs, making sure to glance through every floor. Downstairs, he spotted a receptionist – perhaps he would have seen Arthur.

“Excuse me,” he spoke. “Have you seen my friend? He’s thin, shorter than me—”

“Yes!” The man exclaimed. “He was just asking about you. He should be over there, by the telephone.”

John looked over at where the man pointed, and sure enough Arthur stood there, looking around blindly like an idiot. Without further comments to the hotel clerk, he made his way to him and grabbed his arms.

Arthur yelped in surprise at his strong grip. “What? I—”

“Arthur,” John growled at Arthur’s gasp. “Shut up, it’s me.”

“J-John?”

“Yes! What were you thinking, leaving like that?”

Arthur flinched slightly as if he’d been struck, his brows knitting in anger. “Me? You left!”

“Yes, but I can see. You could have gotten hurt or—”

“What, so just because I can’t see I don’t get to leave the fucking room while you wander off wherever you want?”

Arthur’s words were a quiet hiss, but they were starting to draw attention to themselves. John’s grip on Arthur’s arms tightened.

“People are staring at us,” he pointed out.

“Where’s the door?” Arthur asked angrily.

“In front of us, the other side of the room.”

They hurried outside, John keeping his grip on one of Arthur’s arms, barely keeping himself from dragging him faster. As soon as they were outside, John directed Arthur towards a back alley, mostly out of sight.

“What the fuck, Arthur,” John breathed out.

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me,” Arthur snarled. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Out,” he replied. “I can move on my own now.”

“You could’ve also fucking told me.”

“You could have waited for me instead of going out there, blind.” Unwittingly, John’s fingers dug into Arthur’s arms. “I can’t guide you if I’m not there, remember?”

“I don’t fucking need you to guide me all the time.” Arthur tried to push John’s arms away but lacked the strength to do so. He exhaled through gritted teeth. “Let go of me.”

For a moment John felt the urge to fight. He wanted to pin Arthur to the wall, grab both of his wrists with one hand just because he could now; strip him of any control so that he would stop going out and putting himself in danger. He wanted to dig his fingers into Arthur’s flesh until they were coated in his blood, until they were one again so that he wouldn’t disappear from John’s sight.

That moment of hesitation had sparks of fear, however subtle, bloom in Arthur’s eyes.

“Let. Me. Go,” he hissed.

At once John let go of his arms as if burned and took a step back. Arthur did the same, his back hitting the wall. He stumbled but regained his balance quickly.

“You don’t get to control me just because you have a body now,” Arthur spoke shakily but intently. “Just as you didn’t get to control this body when you were in my head, you fucking monster.”

“I…” John frowned, breathing heavily.

“I don’t fucking need you and you don’t need me anymore,” Arthur continued. “So, if you want to leave, then leave.”

“Oh, fuck you, Arthur,” John spat out.

“Then we’re in agreement,” Arthur laughed mirthlessly and turned around towards the hotel. “Fuck this.”

John watched as Arthur followed the wall, quite confidently. How much of that was actual spatial awareness and how much was pure spite he could not tell, but he would lie if he said the way Arthur stumbled near the door didn’t bring him a bit of sick satisfaction. He turned and walked in the other direction, spurred on by anger and other feelings that coiled in his chest like maggots, festering and writhing.

[wordwovencackle]

When the message is that people often "choose" prostitution because there's no safe alternative, you are describing the absence of choice. The core of the problem.

The solution is not to make that choice more bearable, but to create better options. People prefer focussing on minimising the damage instead rather than drawing a line. It is nothing short of putting a bandaid on a severed limb. It's better to help prostituted women get out of that industry entirely. Any others who choose to prostitute themselves are uniquely privileged in who their clients are, what they do, who they work for, and when they can exit the industry. They are the minority in prostitution, pornography, cam-work and strip clubs.

While in contact with humans and/or their fluids, every other profession (doctors, dentists, nail techs, kitchen workers, etc.) mandates their employees (sometimes the clients/patients also) to wear sanitized and protective gear.

Prostitutes are not allowed these protective measures because it does not appeal to the client. Prostitutes could get permanently blinded when their clients ejaculate in their eyes, for example, and they're not allowed protective gear for their eyes when the client can see her face or when she's on camera. The clients are not wearing condoms. They're paying people to put themselves in harm's way for their gratification.

Prostitutes are uniquely at risk far more than any other profession for the sole benefit of the client and safer care is just a soothing balm on the conditions of prostitution. With how often they're in contact with human fluids, they would be wearing hazmat suits in any other environment. However, they need to look aesthetically pleasing, so they cannot have illnesses reliably prevented or the risk minimised.

A better bandaid is for their clients to always wear protection and that they need to be screened for illnesses beforehand, as well as leave behind their contact information in case something goes wrong, that is not happening because of privacy laws and because of their preferences as consumers: they want their needs met, not the safety of their "worker." You only need to listen to interviews with sex buyers and with frequent pornography engagement to know this to be true.

The way people describe healthcare in the face of legal prostitution feels too little too late. While well-intended, the truth is that the "workplace" of prostitution is inherently dangerous and no medicine afterwards cannot change the fact that any damage already happened. "Sex worker" are less similar to the working people and more similar to gladiators of whom the majority were slaves who fought, often to death or permanent injury, for the entertainment of the privileged.

Prostitution is not like any other job. If it were, then things like familial relationships would not reveal the contradiction.

Someone, I forget who I'm sorry, already said it better than I can, but if prostitution was the same as any other job, then having your parent, an uncle, your adult child, or a cousin as a client would not be an immediate problem.

It, however, clearly is a problem.

While having a family member as a client in any other field can be uncomfortable, perhaps a bit embarrassing. Your emotions might get in the way of doing the best you can, say, for example, as an attorney or a mortician. However, having a family member as a client in prostitution is inherently different. We know instinctively that sex is intimacy, not a service or any other form of labour, no matter the price tag you place on it.

In sex and sexual acts, you are in a territory of mutual respect and mutual consent. Once the money is on the table, it becomes a negotiation, coercion, you are buying or renting and the product is a human being. It is presenting something to a person to persuade them into being intimate in a way they would otherwise not be willing to do for free.

It is in no way the same as someone not liking their job, how they labour or provide a service in exchange for financial aid. None of those involve intimacy. In fact, while not always perfectly adhered to, sexual harassment is prohibited at work, something women had to advocate for it to be considered an offense at all.

In prostitution, in "sex work," letting sexual harassment happen is "the job."

This also raises questions about the increase of human trafficking and substance abuse in places where prostitution is already legal, such as The Netherlands, Belgium, and Germany. Legalisation has arguably made it more difficult to stop illegal pimps and operations: as long as the prostituted people don't outright endanger themselves by explicitly stating they're trafficked or abused, the government cannot act on suspicions. After all, it is legal. It also makes it easier to trick vulnerable people and children because they're told they're just working. It takes only a few interviews to understand children are groomed this way as well. If clients even care, they too can easily be convinced they're renting or buying a non-trafficked, legal prostitute.

While I agree no prostitute, cam-worker, stripper, or whoever falls under "sex work" should be penalised or criminalised, making the industries legal helps no one.

The Nordic Model ("sex workers" are not targeted by law enforcement but those with whom they do business are) is a far better option. Creating safe and good alternatives for those considering prostitution or "sex work," especially for those escaping the industry, is a far better option.

By advocating for legal "sex work" you may think you are listening to "sex workers," but you are catering to a privileged group within a devastating industry that destroys lives globally. While you think you're being kind, you are silencing the marginalised majority trapped in an industry you don't understand.

The sex industry is incompatible with humanity.

If someone is free to choose "sex work," they are equally free to choose anything else that does not perpetuate harm for those less fortunate than them.

[l3viat8an]

Hi Ro!

It's the puzzle anon again (I'll start using 🧩 me thinks)

I just wanted to see your take on an mc with braces, how would all the dateables + Luke react to them?

I feel like Solomon wouldn't have much of a reaction since he's human and probably knows what braces are and what they do

-🧩

Hiii ‘n welcome back 🧩 this is just my opinion tho so I wouldn’t take it seriously jskslolsjj

Lucifer is a little curious and he keep glancing at you trying to see you braces- Like he knows about braces and how some humans have them, but he doesn’t necessarily understand why humans ‘wear’ them. At first he’s too proud to ask you tho so he looks it up in a book. That way he can still act like mr. know-it-all lolol

Mammon knows a bit about braces!! He hangs out in the human world all the time and lots of people have them. although at first he totally thought they were just some new weird kind of human jewelry. He thinks they’re really cool lookin’. He’ll ask why you have them. and he asks if you can get them in gold or not- Randomly tells you they make you look badass. I told you he thinks they’re cool hsjshs

Levi can’t stop staring. He honestly thought they were just a thing in anime. But he’s so fascinated by the fact you really have them, he asks if he can see yours….well actually he asks you to smile because that sounded less creepy in his mind- but he’s just curious I promise!!! and it took him weeks just to ask for that- plz give him a break…

Satan’s read about braces in one of his newer books about human and he has questions about them, he asks if it’s true you can’t eat certain things or not. He also asks if they hurt or not because the books weren’t really clear on that. He thinks they’re really interesting honestly and they’re functional! it’s truly amazing what humans come up with. 

Asmo might’ve thought they were some kind of jewelry at first- kinda like those ‘tooth jems’ you can glue on. you’ll have to correct him and explain a bit. after that he asks if you have to do anything special to care for your teeth / braces or not. This could be important to add to your nightly routine later on! He’s very genuine and trying to learn, plus he shows you what tooth jems are so you know he wasn’t being rude jskaja

Beel- I can’t decide if he would know about braces already or not. But he does a double take the first time he sees yours, he’s super curious about them too. It has to do with eating Beel wants to know more-

Belphie knows about all kinds of human things and braces are probably one of them lolol so he doesn’t have many questions or anything. He just wants to see yours for himself, because he can ask to see them up close and again humans and their inventions are absolutely fascinating. If you have colored braces he asks why you picked color instead of the standard ones.

Barbatos seems to knows about everything- he probably knows about braces and how they’re completely normal, so he’ll be pretty normal about them and ask how long you’ve had yours. If you have a sweet tooth he’ll remind you to avoid sticky / hard sweets and recommend some soft alternatives that won’t mess with your braces. 

Diavolo is absolutely fascinated!!- He knows about braces and their function ofc! but he’s never actually seen a human that has them in person yk- somehow he asks a million and five questions about them all at once. he’s wants to know all about them and how they help your teeth. Plz plz explain to him in great detail how they work and why you have them, he’ll be hanging on your every word jsksjsk 

Luke is going to ask why you have ‘weird bars’ on your teeth- after you explain he has even more questions like; how you brush your teeth with the braces in the way and stuff like that. Luke’s also very worried about the fact you can’t just eat gummies. Or if you have the colored braces Luke is asking how he can get his own because they look really cool!!

I can’t decide if Simeon would know about braces or not. He knows about very random things so he might- but if he doesn’t he’s also going to ask a million and five questions about the ‘weird bars’ on your teeth.

Solomon knows they’re perfectly normal!!- like the only thing he’s going to do is ask how long you’ve had them / have to keep them.

Although it’s also possible demons have braces in the Devildom. I mean they have dentists so it would make sense. their braces are just completely different then what humans have- like braces are usually something only younger demons have to help their fangs teeth grow in properly. But that’s just another silly thought!-

[bionicbore]

Constantly thinking about Marcus and how non-robotic he was. Seems like most people enjoy/roll with that but. Idk I genuinely would’ve enjoyed a much more uncanny Marcus. He’s got hyper intelligent AI but he is very much Not  Human and doesn’t think like one

Marcus not knowing who Leo was for so long despite being in the same classes because he has built-in tunnel vision. Unless you’re directly relevant to his mission, be it as an obstacle, a target, or just necessary to maintain his cover, he Will Not remember you

Marcus not actually leaving any fingerprints on his guitar

Adam helping Marcus up for whatever reason and commenting that this kid is way heavier than he looks

Yet he somehow manages to get around without Chase hearing him

Marcus just randomly going blank while he processes new information/situations and how he’s supposed to react. From an outside perspective, this kid’s personality literally just... turns off for like half a second before he’s back to normal like nothing happened

He’s blank around Douglas a lot because he doesn’t actually need to deceive anyone, and his outward personality pretty much only turns on when he’s being interacted with. Creeps Douglas out big time whenever he actually notices it

Marcus doesn’t exactly process that he’s an android for the same reason a smart appliance isn’t self-aware. You don’t program a GPS to know it’s a GPS, let alone that you’ll replace it the minute it breaks. So despite all the additional maintenance, Marcus views himself as no different than the Rats

The extent of his programming involving the Rats is Douglas’s kids, in the same way that he is Douglas’s son. Douglas didn’t think to program anything about Marcus viewing them as his siblings

Marcus not following the plan in Bionic Showdown because, as shown multiple times, hyper intelligent AI does not mesh well with objective programming

Marcus having no qualms about throwing Chase into a meat grinder on account of his logic being “Dad wants his three bionic kids. If I kill you, he’ll still have me. That still makes three”

Douglas actually being horrified by this ‘cause he has been projecting so hard onto this android and nothing shatters those rose tinted glasses like watching it try to kill your kid

[bumblingbabooshka]

TOS-Era Michael Burnham

[slippery-minghus]

hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.

and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.

i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.

where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).

but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?

[lord-squiggletits]

Like I'm not one of those story "critics" who will nitpick the smallest inconsistency and call it a plot hole that ruins the whole story. I'm okay with inconsistencies and even the occasional plot hole if it ends up producing a story that's interesting, gripping, and brings up interesting things.

The problem is that suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. And secondly, stuff like character drama and themes are only as strong as the plot that supports them. If the plot is full of contrivances, plot holes, and really stupid things that make it feel like the author is just forcing something to happen to move the story along, then the themes and character drama become much less convincing.

[nyxire]

the compulsive urge to open google docs and spend the rest of your day writing on a half finished story that you haven't touched in 2 years when you have a million other things to be doing

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

[radiance1]

There was a boy walking towards the invading army.

There was a civilian child walking towards the invading army from the infinite realms lead by their tyrannical ruler. The Justice League tried to stop force their way through, save the boy.

Instead of that, however, they were blocked by multiple ghosts, all hellbent on not leaving them alone. Superman tried to get close to the kid? Piles upon piles of ghosts knocked him back. Wonder Woman? The same thing happened.

The thing was, that wasn't even the ground army who did it. But the ones in the sky.

So the kid was walking towards an entire army by himself. One hellbent on taking over Earth and have no qualms about ending the short life of a human boy.

Instead of watching a child die, a life they failed to save. Something else happened.

The army parted for him.

Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, the same happened with the ghosts. They made a clear-cut line for him to walk straight towards their king with no obstacle, even clearing the way of anything that could pose as one.

Again, the Justice League tried to go down to drag the boy away, only to again be denied by the ghosts flying through the sky. Only to stop chasing as soon as they retreated a certain distance.

The ghosts stood still, and only moved as they got close, unlike their previous acts of causing havoc and mayhem. So, the Justice League, as much as they didn't want too, stood still and watched.

The boy stood at a stop before the king, painfully tiny in comparison to the massive ghostly tyrant standing before him with his arms crossed.

"Yo, dad." The boy said, and the Justice League froze in shock.

===

"Yo, dad." Danny lifted a hand up in greeting, before dropping that hand to rub at his neck. "Funny seeing you here, I guess."

"Phantom..." Pariah Dark's voice was soft yet booming and seemed to echo throughout the battlefield. "We meet once again on the field of battle, come to challenge me again, little one? Without your armor, no less?" Pariah tilted his head to the side slightly, questioning.

"Oh that? Yea that got destroyed ages ago," Danny shrugged, as if not having it didn't bother him at all. "Parents couldn't exactly, you know, finish it. Plus, they had other things to work on, so they just decided to scrap the thing altogether." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "So, yea..."

Pariah looked the boy over, his eyes hardening and he clicked his tongue at what he saw.

"You come here, not with armor," Pariah began, strength in his voice and a fire (literally) in his eyes. "Nor a weapon, or a shield, and no allies of any kind-"

"Well those guys are there" Danny pointed behind him, straight at the Justice League.

"-Walk up to a hostile force with no gauge of their strength." But Pariah just barreled on as if the Justice League were an afterthought. "And face their leader and do not expect to come to harm!?" The Ghost King scowled, and the Justice League tensed.

But just tilted his head slightly. "Well, are you going to harm me?" He asked.

Pariah Dark blinked, then whispered. "I could, child. I could kill you." He put a strong emphasis on the word kill.

"You could," Danny nodded. "But are you going to hurt me?"

The Ghost King remained silent, but his gaze intensified.

Danny shrugged, this time with a smile. "See? You wouldn't hurt me so it's fine. Ya big softie."

Pariah's scowl intensified. "I am not soft, child."

"Oh really?" Danny leaned forward and his smile took on a more playful edge. "Then what's you're reason for visiting Earth, hmmmm?"

"To wage war and fight against this world's mightiest heroes." The Ghost King answered quickly.

"Annnnnnnd?"

The king remained silent for a moment and Danny stepped forwards before he face planted onto concrete. "C'mon, dad. Tell me the other reason you came here." Danny crossed his arms, mimicking the Ghost King's pose.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before Pariah looked off the side with green dusting his cheeks. "You have not visited in 50 years, son..." He whispered, but everyone heard it.

"Hah! Knew you missed me!" Danny said shamelessly with a satisfied and smug smile.

"And your father forced me out of the realms because I upset him." Small embers started igniting themselves on the tips of the king's hair.

Silence echoed over the battlefield, before Danny burst out laughing. Pariah Dark's hair fully exploded into green fire as he reached a hand to cover his face. "Of course, alongside the shameless and cheekiness, you get Clockwork's sense of humor as well..."

The Ghost King, at least this very moment, seemed more and more like a tired dad than some fearsome, tyrannical Ghost King.

[3hks]

How to Write REALISTIC and SMOOTH Dialogue

In a story, dialogue is quite important, it helps the readers paint a picture of what's happening and the characters themselves. However, it can be difficult to avoid the unnaturalness and choppiness that comes with a lack of experience. But luckily, I have put together A LOT of advice on how you can get over that rockiness and improve!

*** KEEPING YOUR DIALOGUE REALISTIC, AND PACING ***

>> Keep your characters in character:

Dialogue is a remarkably quick way for readers to determine your character's personality. Thus, you want their speech patterns to remain fairly consistent so the audience won't get confused. If your character is more serious, then they will use less slang and perhaps a more impressive vocabulary. If your character is more relaxed, they will use more slang and compress the words. (such as "dunno," "kay," "y'know," etc.)

Basically, you want their tone to match their traits so the way that they talk is more realistic and personlized to themselves. If the way all your characters speak is the same, there's something wrong. A strong tip is to put yourself in your character's shoes and imagine how they would respond!

>> Take the situation into consideration:

This is another part of keeping your characters in, well, character. Different emotional situations will have a different effect on separate people, so make sure that you have an idea of how your character will act during stressful, irritating, and sad times.

If your character is normally cold, they will struggle if it comes to comforting other people because they have less experience in that field.

>> Don't take too long with their words:

Unlike when narrating something, most people talk just to get the idea across. They will be more specific and quicker with what they say. (This excludes any character who likes to talk a lot.) Unless it's on purpose, they won't dance around the topic. Think of when you casually chat with your friends; you're pretty unlikely to use certain words and/or phrases that might be common to use while narrating.

If you want to explain something complicated, instead of writing out a paragraph of just one person talking, use a question-and-answer prompt! This is where another character continuously asks related questions that get answered by another person, so you can indirectly reveal your explanation.

*** HOW TO WRITE A SMOOTHER CONVERSATION AND DIALOGUE TAGS***

>> Having a variety of dialogue tags:

This is a pretty basic thing to look out for if you're new to writing conversations. Using words like "said," every other sentence can easily make it feel choppy and robotic. Instead, use words like "murmured," "smirked," etc. to paint some emotion into their words. Additionally, vary the location of the dialogue tags! They don't all have to go after the statement, you can include something in the beginning or even the middle, too!

Examples:

Beginning - She tilted her head, "What are you talking about?"

Middle - "Oh," he blinked, "I actually never thought about that."

End - "Wait up!" She exclaimed loudly, waving her hands around.

>> Using no dialogue tags to create a smooth conversation:

Having too many tags can also overwhelm your reader--remember, sentence variety is a crucial part of writing--so you can always drop them if they're unneeded. This applies when your characters (two is the suggested amount) are talking back and forth in a pattern straightforward enough for the reader to understand who's talking without it having to be labeled.

Dropping dialogue tags in these moments can create a smoother atmosphere during the conversation because the reader only has to focus on the talking present.

*** USING SLANG, STUTTERS, FILLER WORDS, AND PAUSES ***

Human speech is often not perfect; when talking, we often make mistakes such as filler words, grammatically incorrect phrases, etc. Hence, for more natural-sounding dialogue, it's important to incorporate some of these.

>> Pauses and stutters:

When reading dialogue, we read it at a steady pace unless it's written otherwise. However, that steady pace can soon get too robotic and too smooth. Luckily, there are several ways to change this! You can use dialogue tags, (ex: she quickly spoke) commas, and ellipsis (...). These are often integrated when the character is hesitant, nervous, answering something, or when they need to admit something. The same idea applies to stutters--they're mainly used to demonstrate anxiousness, which can be found in varying situations.

>> Filler words and slang:

Filler words can really just be used where you see fit. They may be used in the situations I previously mentioned (because it shows someone stumbling over their words) but it's ultimately up to you!

Slang, just like everything else, should not be used too often, or it will seem forced and exaggerated. The point is to sound natural, and increasing amounts of repetitiveness can ruin it. It's also important to remember that in real life, our conversations move slower; when someone speaks, another person usually doesn't respond quite literally, right after. However, in writing, dialogue can actually often seem that way, which is why using tags and these imperfections of speech is pivotal for building a realistic conversation!

*** CONCLUSION ***

Lastly, a key point when writing dialogue is to ALWAYS read the conversations! Whether it be in your head or out loud, it can often help you catch anything that seems off! Additionally, like I mentioned at the very beginning, write dialogue from your character's perspective! Imagine yourself as them and how they/you would talk. Try to keep your dialogue tags, sentences, and word use varied to create a natural conversation!

If you were struggling before, I hope that this (extra) long guide was able to really offer you some insight and useful tips! If you read this far, thank you!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[libraford]

Park Cleanup Pet Peeves

I'll be starting my seasonal gig at Parks and Rec in a couple months and I've got a couple things I wanna say. I know that this will probably not reach the people who need to hear it, but if ONE LESS person leaves the parks a mess, I will be That Much Happier.

-You're not supposed to smoke, drink, or have sex in public parks but I know that people will anyway. But if you are going to do those things, please dispose of the evidence in the trash cans. A human has to pick these things up.

-Dog poop goes in a bag. Bag goes in the trash can.

-The little wax paper liners in the women's room? See you're supposed to put your pad/tampon in that wax paper bag, take the bag out of the bin, and then dispose of it in the actual trash can. Don't feel bad, no one told me either. Also no one told the dudes I work with. But this reduces direct exposure to bodily fluids, especially as the summer gets on and it gets hot in those bathrooms.

-On that subject! The little bins that they go in next to the toilet? Don't stick trash in there. Don't put diapers in there. Also don't put beer cans crushed in such a specific way that I slice my hand on them as I try to jimmy it out of there. Literally, that bin is too small for most things. They are meant specifically for those brown bags. Please for the love of god, throw things in the trash can.

-As for the urinals, please no solids. Most commonly gum and chewed tobacco, but you can use your imagination.

-If you're doing a photo shoot or an event with confetti, please use a paper confetti instead of a plastic one- its easier to get rid of.

-If you're doing a pizza party, we'd rather you stack the pizza boxes in a pile next to the trash can instead of trying to fit them in the trash. Because then we can just throw the trash bag over the top and tie it instead of trying to fish it out. This kind of goes for any big trash- if it won't fit in the trash can easily, don't try.

-Please don't call cops on people sleeping in the parks if they're not bothering anyone. Even if they've been sleeping there all day. Dude's just trying to chill.

-Destruction of the toilets will result in the indefinite locking of the restrooms. You ruined them and now everyone at the softball tournament can blame you for it.

-Parks people are not the police. We are maintenance workers who are not trained to handle most emergencies and the most we can do in any situation is report to the proper department. Please don't look to us for answers if someone is starting a fight.

-Also please don't spit on us for driving on the path. We're permitted to. Its essential for us to drive on the path to do our job.

-please don't abandon animals at the park. Rehome them properly. I spent a whole week trying to catch a rooster last summer.

-look, I get it- 'oh no, your pretty building has writing on it!' Grafitti is so edgy. We get it. But it means Jacob has to sand it off now so that the kids at the birthday party don't see a giant drawing of a weiner. Acts of rebellion that create more work for the working class are not revolutionary.

-please do not set fire to the Tiny Free Library. Why did you do that? That's mean.

-please do not feed bread to ducks and geese. Corn, birdseed, lettuce- those are better for them. If you want to reduce tge amount of goose poop in the parks, shop feeding them bread.

-also do not anger tge geese. They remember what its like to be dinosaurs.

I'll have more later, probably, once the season wears on.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implied infidelity, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity, non consensual surveillance.

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Hey guys, and welcome to part two of my new original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa.

This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project and @impeakcharacterdesign for being my beta-reader for the final draft.

I definitely was not expecting such positive feedback on the first part in less than a week, so thank you all for reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts on it, they really made some of my more stressful days in the medical field a little brighter :)

Also, if the lofi vibes nor are the clothes written in here aren’t your thing, feel free to insert whatever is your preferred interior theme and fashion/clothing style.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama being unfolded on the stage.

Part one

Part three

Yeo Jung-Hwa was unhappy with the series of events that had occurred at the office. Hyueng Mun-Hee had bursted into his office with tears streaming down her bright red face, sobbing about how she cannot stand being bullied by the team manager of her department any longer. Who was the team manager?

You. His fiancee. The woman he must marry. A promise between his father and yours that would be beneficial to everyone involved - everyone except him. Wasn’t he entitled to experience pure joy of being loved and in love? To be with someone who wasn’t tiresome and annoyed him all the time? 

Meeting Hyeung Mun-Hee had felt like seeking the sky for the first time. She was a breath of fresh air to his stifling world. Hearing your most recent act of cruelty towards her had been the final straw. And like any self-respecting CEO, he texted the CFO to look into it before all hell had broken loose. He was receiving emails from the managers of all the other departments left and right, all with the same attachment. Botched up documents. And the one who had sent it was none other than Hyeung Mun-Hee. 

But he didn’t believe it at first.

 He truly thought it was another underhanded trick you had created to get Hyeung Mun-Hee fired because that’s exactly the sort of person you are to him; a dishonest, greedy, arrogant woman whose saving grace as a human being is an excellent work ethic. Once he had calmed his darling, drying her tears with his handkerchief, he marched into the Finance Department and demanded answers from you as soon as he got off of the phone with his panicked CFO. Instead of apologizing for what you did, you explained how Hyeung Mun-Hee made mistakes and you gave her a chance to fix them, but she did not correct them. She completed the required training. She knows how to calculate and make spreadsheets, so why is she pushing her work onto others? 

More importantly, you fixed her mistakes and sent out the correct ones to the other departments. Everything has been resolved, but you wanted Hyeung Mun-Hee to attend the company’s financial seminars to ensure that this embarrassing incident does not happen again. As much as he despised you, every point you made was correct…especially after he retreated to his office and compared the budget allocations on his monitors; Hyeung Mun-Hee’s on the left and yours on the right. The numbers in his darling’s work were completely off, and they could have cost the company hundreds of thousands if the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

He was certain that it was sheer dumb luck. 

Just because you had prevented a major internal disaster from occurring doesn’t mean he would ever look at you as he looked at Hyeung Mun-Hee. In a cesspool filled with hypocrites and liars, his darling is a breath of fresh air. Pure, kind-hearted, committed. Loving. So many qualities you lacked. Yet is it all that it seems? He thought, sitting alone in his home office late at night. If Hyeung Mun-Hee made these mistakes, why didn’t she just admit it instead of coming to me? 

He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, yet the proof is right there on his computer. Like his predecessors, he needed to take on the responsibility of a leader and make sure that the conglomerate’s integrity remained intact. However, he also desired to shelter his darling from the world’s cruelty. Remove her from the department and secretly marry her so that they could be together at last. He is selfish, but he has the right to bask in his own happiness. Unlike some people.

Well, if he can’t outright get the truth from you…then he’ll just have to call in a favor from a certain someone in the underworld. The person in question could set up cameras in your bedroom by slipping in and out of your estate as a groundskeeper or pest control and no one would be the wiser. He could do it for a price and make sure that nothing could be traced back to him. The last thing Yeo Jung-Hwa wanted is to be arrested for illegally filming someone without their consent.

Not when this is an opportunity to sever ties with you completely, once and for all. 

Two days later, he received an email and an attachment. When he clicked on it, four camera angles appeared on his desktop. All of them were in your room. But is this really your room? He expected it to be clean with sleek, wooden floors covered by monochrome carpeting and a walk-in closet filled to the brim with extravagant clothes, shoes, purses that she wouldn’t wear twice in her life. The uninspiring minimalist bougie interior design that is being coveted amongst the upper classes. Your taste was much more comforting. It appeared cozy, with soft lighting and warm blankets. 

Strings of fairy lights strung up across the ceiling.  A full bookshelf was near the bed. The floor was decorated with knitted ottomans and candles.  You lit them all back up as soon as you returned from the company, much later in the evening and when he was in his home office, cradling a cup of black coffee. 

You disappeared into the back for a moment, returning in a two-piece fleece loungewear with mushrooms and plants on them. Something he had expected to see Hyeung Mun-Hee dressed in, but not you. Were you trying to copy his lover’s tastes so he would pay attention to you? How shameless!

When he flipped the audio on the cameras, he expected to hear snide remarks about Hyeung Mun-Hee or see you talking to someone on the phone about sabotaging the new project coming up soon so that you would take all the credit. Instead, you were…shopping on a furniture site?

“I don’t need another bookcase, or it’ll look too cluttered. I can’t get any more potted plants either. I’ve already done enough renovations here to make it cozy and relaxing. What about…a salt thingy? What’s it called?” You typed a few words in the search engine, [Eye Color] irises brightening in realization. “Oh right, Himalayan salt lamp! That’s not a terrible price for this one! And yarn. I need more yarn to complete that gift for Caretaker Lee’s birthday. Speaking of which, I could work on that tonight. Give my eyes a break from staring at screens all damned day.” You scooted over to the edge of the bed, pulling one drawer outward. You then reached inside, removing knitting needles, yarn and dark red clumps of something. You put on headphones and began to knit.  

You, the proud and arrogant Park Seo-yun, was knitting. 

You didn’t move from that spot at all, completely focused on your project when a knock came from the bedroom door. A fleeting, fearful look appeared on your face before you frantically shoved all of your materials back in the drawer, sputtering to wait one moment that you weren’t decent before putting on a bored expression, scrolling through your phone and reclining back like a lazy cat. You told them to come in, and an elderly woman in an apron walked in with a wooden tray filled with assorted foodstuff, carefully setting it down on one of the ottomans. 

“Thank you for preparing my midnight snack, Caretaker Lee. I’m sorry it’s been such an inconvenience while I’m reviewing these documents for tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Caretaker Lee shook her head, walking over to your bed. You scooted over so she wouldn’t fall over the edge (presumably, because this entire situation is bizarre to Yeo Jung-Hwa), and she sat down. She smiled down at you, stroking the top of your head.

“This humble one is honored to serve the Park family, especially the hard-working young miss. It cannot be easy, with the current circumstances. Young miss…please forgive me for speaking outright…but are you certain about going through with this engagement? It seems that you have never spent any time with him outside of working at his conglomerate, and any time he has is spent with someone else.”

Yeo Jung-Hwa expected you to hit her, to punish Caretaker Lee for speaking out of turn and to mind her own business. Instead, you stared at her for a long moment, wide-eyed and mouth  slightly parted…before your lips curled into a melancholy smile, eyes softening. 

“I thank you for your concern, Caretaker Lee. But this is an engagement between my father and the conglomerate’s predecessor. It’s not something that can be broken off so easily with benefits for both parties.” You said. “This is the price to be part of the elite. To sacrifice your happiness for the sake of business.” You then leaned forward, pulling Caretaker Lee into a hug. “It’ll be okay, really. I’m Park Seo-yun. I can take care of myself. And you should be in bed. You’ve got a long drive to see your grandchildren tomorrow morning. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“But-”

“I’ll bring the tray down the kitchen when I’m finished.”

“Miss-”

“Nope.” 

You then shooed her out of the room, telling Caretaker Lee to send your mother a text as soon as she got to her destination. The old woman smiled sheepishly, wishing you good night and asked you to not stay up too late. Once she was out of the room and the door was closed, you walked back to the bed, shoulders sagging and suddenly looking incredibly tired before you fell face first onto the blankets, legs dangling from the edge. You remained like that for a moment, then picked yourself up and curled up your lower body, grabbing one of the blankets and putting it over your legs. You retrieved your hidden supplies, resuming your knitting, taking five minute breaks in between to eat from the tray. Three more hours passed until you decided to call it a night, blowing out the candles and switching the fairy lights to a lower setting before disappearing into the bathroom. You came back out, grabbed the tray, and vanished. 

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. You are a haughty, greedy woman who could care less about commoners, much less servants. You love shopping at boutiques and only want the best of the best in anything. Even in an arranged marriage. He could never be happy with someone like you. 

But is all of that true? A nasty little voice in the back of Yeo Jung-Hwa’s mind hissed. Those were rumors created by other women who weren’t pleased that they weren’t good enough to marry you. Park Seo-yun is a stranger to you. You never bothered to know nor care to. Why would you when you have someone you love, Hyeung Mun-Hee?

He didn’t need to, and the fact that he wanted to know the truth about you of all people terrified him. He’s not supposed to care, not to be curious or even concerned about your well-being.  This was a strategic engagement, not one born out of mutual affection. He has a role to play in this world after all. 

Three weeks had passed since he had the cameras installed, and all Yeo Jung-Hwa had discovered or even learned is that you were a completely different person in your home than at the office. 

You work Monday through Fridays, always on time and never staying late unless it was necessary. You returned to your family estate late on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays because there was a spinning class at the company gym after your shift on those days. Friday evenings were spent in either your room, holed up and completely focused on knitting or doing something else that helped relax you. If you were staying up late, the servants would provide a midnight snack for you. The portions increased on the days you were at the gym, alluding that you possessed an enormous appetite due to a high metabolism instead of being a glutton as Hyeung Mun-Hee has told him time and time again.  You talked to yourself when you were alone, or at least your thoughts before making a decision on something. When he remotely hacked into your laptop to see if he could find any evidence of foul play there, he saw your browsing history contained only decoration aesthetics ideas, healthier snacks to eat at night, local beginner yoga instructors, and shopping at small businesses on Crafty plus one or two high-end boutiques for business casual outfits. Nothing incriminating on any level whatsoever. But he was not going to let you off of the hook that easily. 

At work he ignored you entirely, focusing his attention on Hyeung Mun-Hee and blocked your calls so that he didn’t have to talk to you outside of business hours. There was not a single text message or voicemail from you on his cellphone when he unblocked your number yesterday morning after coming into the office. Understandably frustrated and cranky from a lack of proper sleep, he decided to change the deadline for the quarterly income statements and the inspections of the company’s financial software, including reinforcing the firewalls and ensuring there was no fraudulent activity in the company’s transactions to Monday morning. 

With this amount of work, he was absolutely certain that it would be your slip-up. That you’d push your assigned tasks to Hyeung Mun-Hee so you could keep working on your knitting projects. Today is Saturday, and you left your house at seven o’clock to go to the office. You stayed awake until midnight typing away on your company laptop, looking over spreadsheets while talking to the head of IT on speaker, arranging a test run on the firewalls on Sunday evening. 

Instead of helping the team prepare for everything to be finished at the beginning of the week, Hyeung Mun-Hee was sitting across from him inside a coffee shop, beaming and utterly happy that they were finally out on a date after not being on one for so long, she was getting worried about him. Well…perhaps. Yeo Jung-Hwa glanced down at the shopping bags by their feet. They had gone to trendy high end streets and luxury department stores earlier this morning, with Hyeung Mun-Hee desiring…no, more like insisting that she had at least eight new work outfits so that she would represent his company properly as a team member of the Finance Department. 

If that’s true, then why are you here using my black card to shop instead of working at the office? He thought behind a smile as his supposed lover’s words went from one ear and out the other. If you were here with him, he’d probably have been more accepting of indulging in your vices and insisting on paying for everything instead of you, even when you were just as wealthy as he is. 

“I’m sure that you will find out why Park Seo-yun is acting so suspiciously!” Hyeung Mun-Hee said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you are even associated with such a vile person. She can’t get away with talking down to others like that! She may be rich, but she doesn’t know how to truly appreciate what she has right now!” She giggled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? She has everything, but she still clings to your engagement like a sad puppy! If she truly loves you, then she should have convinced her father to call everything off so that you can be happy. But the rich think differently I guess, right?” 

His smile tightened. “Perhaps.” He said, languidly sipping the java chip mocha frappuccino that she bought for him even though he preferred to have his coffee black with no sugar and he’s told her this little tidbit many times. “She is extravagant, but you also have luxurious taste, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 

He watched her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment, sputtering for a moment before she asked. “W-What are you saying, Yeo Jung-Hwa? You know me! If I had been given a choice to meet up, I would have chosen the downtown area so you could try the street vendors I’ve been talking about!”

And risk my health by getting food poison from reused cooking oil, poorly washed utensils, and ingesting noodles that are too greasy or salty? Absolutely not. He thought with slight irritation. 

“Maybe, but we both know that we must be discreet in our interactions, as I’ve told you before.That’s why I suggested we come here, but instead of sampling delicious foods at the restaurants I recommended, you wanted to come here instead after shopping.  If I remember correctly, your department is supposed to be presenting a big project on Monday. Why are you here, shopping to your hearts’ content instead of being at the office and helping out the team?”

“W-Why should I be there?” Hyeung Mun-Hee countered, bolting up from her seat as she stared at him in shock. “If I go there, Park Seo-yun will harass me! I can’t work in an environment like that! I did those seminars she  told me to do and passed the tests! Can’t I enjoy a day off?!” Fat tears began to build up behind her hazel eyes. “I’ve been working hard enough!”

But you are the one who is putting in the overtime needed to finish the job. You are leading the team to do what needs to be done. Hyeung Mun-Hee is just enjoying the perks of being by his side. Have you eaten lunch yet? Perhaps he can stop by somewhere that allows take-out and bring some to your office under the excuse that he needs to get some work done as well.  Dinner too, perhaps? 

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YEO JUNG-HWA?!”

He glared at her. “Sit down, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” He hissed, displeased that her shrill voice had attracted unwanted attention from customers who were either sitting at tables or waiting on orders to finish up at the pick-up area. “Finish your drink, and take a taxi back to the city, to your home.”

“It’s still early in the day, we haven’t been out in a while!”

“And I’m tired from the shopping. I don’t need to see what you bought because I already have seen them all at the shops.” He replied tersely. “I need to stop by the office and take care of a few things at the office before I need to go home.” 

Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face is a dark shade of purple. Consumed by anger, her mouth hung open, on the brink of another explosive tantrum, as the coffee shop door swung open, exposing its next patron. You.  

You stepped up to the pick-up area, looking at the various drinks with a pensive expression before waving down a barista. “Excuse me.” You said. “I’m here to pick up a mobile order for several drinks under Park. When will they be ready? I need to hurry back to the office with caffeine for my employees or things are going to get ugly.” The  handbag hung from your wrist as you fished out your phone, presumably showing the online order to the young man. He looked at you before smiling at you. 

“We’ll have it done in just a moment, ma’am.”

Is it wrong for Yeo Jung-Hwa to desire the bright smile you gave to that insignificant commoner when you did not know he was here with Hyeung Mun-Hee?

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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations! 

Important things must be said three times.

The viewership score for Episode 52 has arrived!

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