#I can not NOT do this

[wordsvomit101]

April Fool Interaction

"..."

"… Sir, who are you?" Minhyeok tensely stared at the tall hunk with white hair standing in his room. The guy had two small horns that contrasted clearly with his short white hair, streaked with red, indicating that he was a devil. He wasn't wearing a shirt, exposing his upper half proudly adorned with minor scars and cuts, while his stomach was covered in a bandage. Clad in black attire and white boots with red patterns and belts reminded Minhyeok of the motorcycle gang fashion from Japan in the mid-1900s.

"His eyes are unnerving," they were eye-catching for sure, with black sclera and red irises featuring a cross in the middle of his black pupil, along with unrealistically long red lashes. Unless the other man was a really dedicated cosplayer.

A low chuckle from the devil got his attention back to the possibly dangerous matter at hand. Minhyeok's eyes quickly scanned his room for his baseball bat in case he needed to run or jump out of the nearest window. However, the good-looking home invader's youthful voice gave him a double take.

"Minhyeok! How can you not recognize your best friend Ppyong?!" the devil asked in an arrogant tone, yet still with a childish feel to his speech that was mortifyingly similar to a small red devil he used to talk to.

"… What?"

He wasn't sure if he was sober for this. He was quite sure he hadn't drunk any soju or alcoholic beverage last night when he was out with his friends at university.

"What's with the shocked face? Shouldn't you know it's me from a mile away?!" The handsome devil turned fully to him, his face marked with a boyish pout and a frown, his muscular arms crossed in front of his strong chest.

"… Nope" He wasn't willing to acknowledge this. The imagery between the small perverted red devil from before and this impressive-looking guy was too jarring to even think about.

He was about to close the door to his apartment and maybe take a walk somewhere else before his right arm was seized and dragged inside, with the door closed behind him. His back slammed into the door with a thud, the rugged bandaged arm slamming above his head. The looming presence made him look up to the devil who was currently kabedon-ing him.

"Hey, why are you running away?" Ppyong asked in a lower voice, his red brows now frowning seriously as he looked down upon Minhyeok. Normally, he would be more flustered by this kind of act from more assertive people who had tried to flirt with him before, but the flooding memories of the devil small enough to sit on his shoulder and the restroom incident from last time where the very same red lump kept harassing him for his semen, made this experience more perplexing than ever.

When he didn't answer, Ppyong only lowered his head, closing the distance between them. Minhyeok could scent the lemon caramel from his breath just by the gap alone. Minhyeok turned his head away with a blush, his heart beating uncomfortably loud in his chest.

"Miinnhhyyeeokk~" the devil said his name with a draw. Minhyeok shrunk a bit further, contemplating whether or not it was worth it to kick this fine man away from him.

"Hey! Minhyeok, why are you ignoring this great Ppyong? Did I do something wrong?" When Minhyeok tried to slither away, the white-haired devil only stopped his track with another muscular hand to his left side and a strong knee effectively blocking his other escape path, closing the space between them even further.

"This is bad…" He could feel the heat covering his entire face down to his neck, his palms pathetically sweaty and his grip on his backpack hardened.

He wasn't even hearing the barrage of questions the devil was throwing at him. "Do devils not have the concept of boundaries down there?!" He really wanted to smack away the toned chest and collarbones on his eye level and go outside to cool down from... whatever was happening right now.

That was until he heard a wet sniffle from Ppyong. When he looked up at the devil, tears had already pooled out from his pretty sharp eyes, and snot from his nose. His toned hands were now grabbing Minhyeok's shoulder.

"Minhyeok, you are not dying, are you?! I heard somewhere that humans become more quiet and avoidant when they near death!" The handsome guy opposite him was now yelling, his body trembling with tears and sadness.

"… Excuse me?"

"So you are dying?! NO! You can't die! If you do, who will give Miss Raon human energy?! And who will give me Fererere from now on?! You can't die now!" The devil was now hugging him tightly, and Minhyeok could feel the wetness of tears and disgusting snot on his shoulder and face. For some reason, it reminded him of Raon.

Thinking back to her calmed him down despite the sheer ridiculousness of the situation right now. He should calm Ppyong down first, then get the food, laundry, and his… fluid ready, and maybe chat for a bit before sending the guy back to Hell.

"Ppyong, calm down-"

"That's it! Humans have hospitals, right? Let's get you there before you suddenly drop dead!" Before Minhyeok could register what was happening, he was easily picked up in a princess carry.

"Huh? Wait, Ppyong!-"

With a swift and determined stride and Minhyeok secure in his arms, Ppyong leaped over the apartment railing, his powerful legs propelling him from rooftop to rooftop, his steps unexpectedly light.

As Minhyeok clung to Ppyong's shoulder for dear life, the rush of wind whipped past them, tousling his hair and sending a thrill coursing through his veins. It was as if they were slicing through the night air with effortless grace, defying gravity itself. The sensation was exhilarating, yet tinged with a hint of fear as they soared from one rooftop to the next.

The wind howled in his ears, bearing the faint tang of ozone and the muted roar of distant traffic. Buildings dissolved into a kaleidoscopic blur as they soared through the nocturnal sky. With each leap, Minhyeok's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as he struggled to keep pace with Ppyong's determined strides.

Amidst the chaos of their rooftop escapade, Ppyong's expression was one of grim determination, his features set in a steely resolve as he focused on their journey. There was no laughter or the loud voice of pride now, only the sound of footsteps echoing against the concrete as Ppyong raced against time to reach their destination. The weight of Ppyong's urgency hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the 'seriousness' of the situation, which, unfortunately, was a misunderstanding.

Minhyeok's mind raced, a mixture of terror and awe, as he witnessed Ppyong's extraordinary strength and agility. He desperately tried to talk some sense into Ppyong, pleading with him to reconsider their reckless journey. But Ppyong's determination was stubborn as a mule, his focus solely on reaching the hospital in time to save Minhyeok's life from whatever unknown illness he thought the human in his arms had in his mind.

Not having it anymore, Minhyeok shouted, "You stupid idiot! Do you even know where the hospital is?!" The dumb white hair devil even had the gall to look at him in annoyance when he shouted back.

"Of course, this great devil knows! Don't worry, Minhyeok, your best friend will have your life saved no matter what!" That would have sounded genuinely comforting if it was in a different context, but it was another story when Minhyeok was perfectly healthy and the devil was going nowhere near any of the hospitals in the city. He even passed several of them during his wild parkour maneuvering through the urban night.

The irony made Minhyeok question whether to laugh or cry at this point. So he shouted the money-winning question to the himbo carrying him, "Then where is it?!"

"It-…! Where… where are we now?" Now the devil stopped on the roof of a market somewhere in Gangnam-gu and looked around with a worried face. It was a feat beyond human capabilities, really, to be able to run and jump from roof to roof without breaking a sweat, several kilometers away from Minhyeok's apartment, and yet here they were, lost.

Minhyeok massaged his head heavily to ease his headache. Moments like these made him wonder if this was one of the things Raon had to deal with in Hell. If so, then he had to give it to her. He only met one devil, and in less than a day, he already felt drained.

His tired groaning must have affected the devil since he felt a flinch when he looked up. Ppyong's face was marred with guilt and tears, which were about to flow out of his pretty eyes again. It felt like he was looking at a sad puppy rather than a powerful devil. He guessed Ppyong was no different no matter the form he took on.

With habit's ease, he let his hand gently pat the soft white hair to calm the cute guy down. It unexpectedly worked, since Ppyong seemed to melt into his touch with each passing second.

"I'm not dying. I'm just shocked at how different you look, that's all. I'm sorry for not being upfront" Ppyong seemed like he was about to protest, but Minhyeok pressed on.

"Thank you for worrying about my health, but please make sure to ask first before you jump to a conclusion like this" The sad puppy look came back again, and Ppyong mumbled an apology in his youthful voice.

"Sorry, I was too excited and wanted to show you this form, but I was scared that you were hurt somewhere… Things have been rough lately in Gehenna… Will you forgive me?"

Minhyeok could only chuckle at the pleading sad eyes of the devil above him. He could see why Raon took a liking to devils like him. If they were honest like this, then no wonder.

"Can you get us down from here? I need to buy some groceries to make meals for you and Raon anyway. Once we are done, take me back to my apartment and wait for me to get the necessary things ready before you go"

Ppyong smiled brightly at him with an innocent gleam in his eyes, surprising Minhyeok when the devil hugged him tightly in his arms.

"Minhyeok! You're really a great guy, you know that?", he could feel the bulging muscle of the man from their close contact and it only embarrassed Minhyeok further.

"Yes, yes, okay. Now get us down and let me go afterward, okay? Also, button up your coat before we go in," he gave half-hearted slaps to Ppyong's chest, pulled himself away, and averted his eyes from the grinning devil.

"OK! Oh! And can you buy me some snacks too?"

"Sure, and tell me how Raon is doing while we're shopping."

[guiiay]

jinx and isha visit a walmart

[wishfulsketching]

Girl dad Silco is a source of endless entertainment for me

Extra doodles:

Someone save Sevika, she is in hell

[word-count-bullet-count]

I've been seeing a lot of knight posts recently. pretty great

[the-eccentric-eclectic]

Hey kid, look at me.

I want you to T-pose. Turn your right thumb up and your left thumb doen and look at your right thumb. Move your arms up and down a bit until you feel a nerve running from your armpit to your palm. Now turn your right thumb down and your left thumb up, and look at your left thumb. Keep your chest facing forward and your shoulders back. Move your arms again until you feel that nerve again. Keep alternating between these two for a minute, or look at each thumb thirty times each.

Now sit down. Put your left hand firmly under your left buttock, palm down. Keep your shoulders back and put your right hand over the crown of your head, very gently pulling it to the right. Do this for thirty seconds, then do it again but with your right hand under your right buttock.

These are stretches for the nerves in your arms, and are very good for people who sit behind a computer a lot, or fibre artists, or you name it. Do them daily. They will hurt in the beginning, but keep doing them, even after the pain has gone, or it will return and you'll have to start all over.

[bixels]

As gen-AI becomes more normalized (Chappell Roan encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use gen-AI because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by tech companies. I draw not because I want a drawing but because I love the process of drawing. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.

[mysillycomics]

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

Both Selfish; you each lose 2 points

You Selfish, prev Cooperative; You gain 2 points

You Cooperative, prev Selfish; You lose 1 point, prev gains 1 point

Both Cooperative; You Each gain 1 points

(ps make sure to say what you voted)

Making this post long so you have to scroll to see prev's tags.

[mearchy]

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

[captainjonnitkessler]

>Join a union

>Hear people constantly complaining that the current union leadership is super corrupt, it's all just the same ten guys making all the decisions in secret and nobody else in the union ever gets to know what's going on

>Go to the monthly union meetings that are completely open to all 1200 union members

>The only attendees are the same ten guys every month, giving detailed reports about everything that's going on

[anxeious]

i mean fuck, i like pills, i like drugs, i like gettin money, i like strippers, i like to fuck, i like day-drinkin and day parties and hollywood, i like doing hollywood shit— snort it, probably would

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[overcaffeinated-aro]

ok not to be that guy but like. labor rights and working class rights can coexist with 24h services and late amenities. its certainly hard to do so without worker exploitation in this political and social environment, it’s not a conflict likely to resolve overnight. but 24h services are important and especially valuable to those of us that are disabled or are on a different circadian rhythm. in fact more professional, health, and government services should be available or at least possible to work on asynchronously (if applicable) during late or odd hours, while workers also get sufficient pay for their labor and proper consistent scheduling. this would be much easier on the workers with night schedules if the entire professional world didn’t grind to a halt at 5pmEST

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.