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xavieryaa · 1 year

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The Reddit Blackout, #196, And Being New to Tumblr

okay i've seen a lot of people in the past ~24 hours or so confused by everything going on with Reddit & Tumblr from both sides - people new to tumblr who don't know how to use it, and tumblr users who don't know what's going on with reddit and why many of its users have joined up here i know this isn't really related to my blog but fun fact about me: i was up until recently a very active reddit user and even mod a subreddit, but I've also been on tumblr for about 3 years now on different accounts, so I think I can see pretty well from both sides of this and explain what's going on this post will be split in 2 sections: what happened with reddit (and what #196 means), and a guide for new users

1. What The Hell Is Going On With Reddit?

The thing that's caused all this ruckus is a major change to Reddit's API, which is what Reddit provides to people so they can pull directly from Reddit to make third-party apps or tools.

The change is that Reddit is changing its previously free API to be paid. Which on its own kinda sucks for developers, but it's not unexpected. They need to make money somehow, right?

The problem is that the API pricing is WAY TOO FUCKING EXPENSIVE. The developer of the most popular 3rd party Reddit app, Apollo, says it will cost him $20 million a year to continue running the app as normal.

Essentially, this pricing forces almost everything third-party to shut down, which causes 3 major problems:

Third-party apps cannot keep running, which sucks for normal users because Reddit's official app is awful. It's slow, its video player is a thing of nightmares, it doesn't have many useful features third-party developers have made.

It sucks even more for visually impaired users because they can't use the official Reddit app at all. Reddit's official app does not work with iOS's native text-to-speech function. Third party apps, on the other hand, often do. So Reddit is forcing blind users away.

Third-party moderator tools cannot keep running, which sucks for moderators because many rely on these tools to properly moderate their subreddits. And moderators are often necessary, because without them subreddits get banned and hate speech and even CSA can often run rampant.

So you see why this change is bad.

Reddit users were PISSED.

So over the past week and a half or so, they have been working on organizing a site-wide blackout. The majority of the most active subreddits have now gone private. Some are only doing it for 48 hours, others (such as r/196) are doing it indefinitely.

That's why you can't access most of Reddit right now, and that's why many users have come here.

You're probably still wondering, though - what is this #196?

Well, as you may guess, it's connected to that subreddit r/196 I just mentioned. r/196 is a subreddit which only has one rule: every time you visit, you must post before you leave.

That's it, that's the subreddit.

The thing about r/196 that set it apart from most other subreddits - and what lends the subreddit's users perfectly to Tumblr - is that it was dominated by queer and leftist users.

So now they've come here and set up shop in #196 and r/196 so they can continue their merry little shitposting.

There's a ton of lore related to r/196, actually, but this is already a long tumblr post and quite frankly I cannot be bothered to write about it at the moment.

2. I'm Here From Reddit, What Now?

Hello there, random new user. As a double-citizen of Reddit and Tumblr, let me show you around this place.

First off, there are some other people who are better at explaining that I am who have made some really helpful things. Watch this Strange Aeons video as a guide to Tumblr culture and functionality and read this post which directly compares Reddit and Tumblr.

Assuming you've done that, here's some additional advice of my own:

Do you miss sorting subreddits by top of all time/the year/the month? Well, you can do something very similar with tags! If you go to a tag at the top of the screen you can select top, and then at the dropdown that says "all time" you can select different time periods! Even 6 months, which Reddit hasn't ever had.

Tumblr has a lot of cool customization features! Even outside your icon/banner/bio, you can change you blog colors and on desktop you can have an html theme (which has its own thriving community here). That customization is part of what sets Tumblr apart from everywhere else - I think you'll enjoy playing with it.

Notes will probably confuse you at first. Unlike the different numbers for upvotes and comments, notes combines the total number of likes, reblogs, and replies into the same number.

Outside of organizing your own blog, when making your own posts tags are what help other people find your post. Use them! But don't abuse them, because then people will just block you.

There are three ways of people finding your post: if someone follows you, if someone follows the tag(s) assigned to your post, and if someone is just scrolling through the tag(s) assigned to your post (and also the secret 4th way no one uses, which is finding it on the trending page, but even if people did use it no one will find your post initially that way)

tumblr is no longer The Discourse Website. And unlike what Reddit wants you to believe for some reason, it is very much alive still. Most of the people seeking fights have moved to Twitter (though some have also moved back here again). You will not get any brownie points for being a dipshit like you do on some subreddits.

So there, welcome to the hellsite (affectionate), you'll pick up on all the in-jokes eventually, for now just try not to be a nuisance and soon enough this'll be your new internet home.

#reddit #reddit blackout #reddit migration #196 #r/196 #reddit refugee #new to tumblr #long post #text post #xavi.txt

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ellecdc · 3 months

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Her darling

I was wondering if I could request Sirius black with a short gf? Something cute and fluffy or generally anything you like to go with because your writing is just immaculate.

(I’m not even sure if 5’3 is counted as short but I’ve always been the shortest among my friends so yeah)

Love you and your wonderful blog 🩵🩵

Hahaha I’m 5’3 too - stopped growing first out of all my friends so that was devastating lol. Thanks for your request babes!! 🫶

Sirius Black x short fem!reader

CW: teasing about height, fluff

Sirius was beginning to regret agreeing with James, Remus, Peter, and Lily to go to the muggle amusement park. Sirius was already one of the shortest amongst his friends, save Pete and Lily who both clocked in at 5’8, meaning most of his day was spent trying to climb onto Remus’ back in order to spot you in the crowd.

“For the love of Merlin, Sirius, I am not that short.” You seethed as you snagged Sirius’ arm, pulling him down (rather roughly) from Remus’ hips.

You could tell Remus didn’t particularly appreciate Sirius using him as a human stepladder, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the teasing opportunity it lent to the group.

“Poor darling,” Lily murmured in faux sympathy, “we’re going to have to find you one of those child leashes that parents attach to their child’s wrists.”

“Sod off, the lot of you.” You groaned and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest.

“Uh oh, almost nap time?” James commented, which earned him a kick in the shin. “Ouch! Okay, okay. Merlin.” He muttered as he moved well out of your kicking range.

“Sorry dollface,” Sirius sung to you, not sounding sorry at all. “I just worry; don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

You moaned again but didn’t bother gracing him with a response.

You’d been waiting in the summer heat for the newest rollercoaster that was all the rage of this little town when you were nearly at the front of the line.

“Okay, quick. Y/N, stand here – we need to make sure you’re tall enough.” Peter called. And now you were mad – even Peter was taking a go at you!

“Are you- I will not!” You sputtered.

“Ma’am, please step forward.” The bored teenage attendant said, causing everyone in line to turn and look at you.

You burned with shame and more than a little bit of rage as you stepped forward obediently, standing beside the cardboard height measurement tool in the shape of cartoon giraffe which had a speech bubble above him reading “riders must be this tall to ride!”

Sure enough, you were indeed tall enough to ride, and were told to return to your spot in line with the same bored tone as you were beckoned forth in.

You moved back to the group; Remus, Peter, and Lily all looking as if they were about to suffocate under the effort to restrain their laughter, Sirius and James having no such qualms were laughing boisterously.

You spent the rest of the time in line with your arms crossed, pointedly ignoring any of your friends attempts to converse with you.

“Oh my love.” Sirius cooed and stepped up behind you, hooking his head over your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your middle, using his hands to try and pry your own arms from your body. “I’m sorry, dolly. I didn’t think the attendant would join in.”

“You’re an arse.” You muttered back.

“I’m your arse.”

“That’s not a romantic thing to say.”

“What would be a romantic thing to say?”

“That you love me.” You admitted shyly; glad that he couldn’t necessarily see the state of your cheeks, though he could likely feel the heat emanating from them from his place on your shoulder anyways.

Sirius cooed again and turned you in his grasp, peppering kisses all over your face. “I thought that was a given?”

You moaned petulantly again. “No. You’ve been so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry, lovie.” He cooed, sounding slightly more sorry than he had before. “If I was nice to you, that would mean I didn’t love you. That’s why I never make fun of Remus.”

“Oi!”

“I love you.” He proclaimed, ignoring Remus’ outcry. He leaned in closer, whispering so only you could hear it. “I’ll even beat up the attendant for embarrassing you – how about that?”

You considered his offer, eyeing up the bored worker ushering riders through the gates.

“Probably best you don’t – looks like a student’s summer job. You could end up in muggle jail for assaulting a minor.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, lips attached to your forehead. “Worth it to avenge my little lovie.”

“Out of all of us, do you really love me the least?” Remus commented, interrupting your conversation.

“Of course not, Moons. I obviously tease Evans the least.”

“Hey!”

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black one shot #sirius x reader #ellecdc fics

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angeadore · 4 months

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𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟!

featuring ... lucifer; mammon; leviathan; satan; asmodeus; beelzebub; belphegor.

genre ... smut (18+).

wc ... 3.6k

warnings ... smut (18+); oral (m receiving); face fucking; verbal degradation + praise; slight exhibitionistic + voyeuristic themes; slight corruptive themes; masturbation; foul language; fem!reader; a little bit angsty?; some reactions are more suggestive and not as nsfw as they could have been; some reactions are shorter, some reactions are longer — i got lazy. also, i suck at writing nsfw, so take that as you will.

synopsis ... the demon brothers react to mc catching them after a shower.

authors note ... repost from my previously deleted blog!

now playing ► hands to myself by selena gomez.

LUCIFER

There was probably a reason that Lucifer wasn’t answering your calls, and his lack of response was probably not an invitation for you to walk into his room unannounced.

But, you had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. Even in the Human Realm you weren’t the best at reading social cues — your lack of street smarts only seemed to get you into twice as much trouble in the Devildom. Of course, the avatar of pride was not the exception to your clueless ways. At some point, you were bound to slip up.

“MC…” Lucifer stood on the opposite side of the room, raven hair wet from his shower and a white towel hanging low — so low — around his hips.

The demon had watched as the door to his room swung open without so much as a knock and then swung shut with the fervor of a madman. He continued to watch as you took in his figure, scanning him from head to toe before you were able to fully process what you were doing. And he watched as your face grew hot with roseate tones.

Lucifer should be angry; he should be absolutely seething.

He probably would be, too, if it weren’t for the way he could feel his cock twitch with arousal at the way you looked at him, the way your eyes trailed over his every feature with - admiration? Adoration? Fondness? Or was the look in your eye simply desire? Desire to have him, desire to feel him… did you desire him?

“I- Sorry,” you spoke frantically, apologizing to the demon profusely, “I apologize; sincerely. I should have knocked.”

Lucifer looked on you with curiosity swimming in his eyes; how, exactly, could a human stir up emotions — needs — that haven’t been so prevalent for centuries? How curious, indeed…

“There’s no need to apologize, MC.” If anything, he should be the one apologizing. Sinful thoughts of you — oh so sinful; damnable, even — ran rampant through his mind. “What can I help you with; it must be important.”

“No-” your tongue ran along your lips, finding they became quite dry in the time you had been staring at Lucifer, and the demon felt his cock harden further beneath the towel at the motion. “No, it wasn’t so important.”

You were always so sweet, so complacent — reminiscent of the angels you so often wasted your time with. Lucifer had to give it to you: you would have made a better angel than he ever was, though he’ll force you to fall further than he ever did.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I continued my activities.”

No, you certainly wouldn’t mind, and you would have stated such had your eyes not been trained on the towel that the demon let fall from his waist with little decorum.

This was not the Lucifer you had come to know — the one with the strict schedules, organized piles of paperwork, and sustained, uptight pride. This Lucifer was one you had yet to fully understand. This Lucifer was the one that was reckless, turbulent — the one that used his pride as his weapon instead of his lawbook.

This Lucifer was the one who was unabashedly stroking his half-hard cock in front of you, dripping with precum and letting soft groans pass through his lips. This Lucifer was wild, beautiful — completely alluring.

“Do you enjoy watching me, MC?” The question cut through your needy haze, the sound of his voice — the blatant pleasure he was feeling bleeding into his tone — making your breath catch in your throat and your pussy clench around nothing. “Because I certainly enjoy being watched by you.”

Your eyes follow his hand as he pumps his cock, fist squeezing tighter as he nears the tip. It looks painfully hard now, red and glistening. You couldn’t help but wonder what Lucifer would taste like, how his cock would feel sliding against your tongue. Would he guide your movements or would he let you please him of your own accord? Does he enjoy being teased or would he rather get straight to the point? What does he look like when he cums?

“You look like you want to devour me, MC — watching me like you are.” Lucifer continues his movements as he talks, your name nothing more than a breathy moan. “You should know that it’s a demons nature to give ourselves over to temptation when it’s presented to us; you should know better than to look at me like that.”

“I suppose… if I can’t look, can I touch?” The question rolled off of your tongue before you could care to consider your proposition.

Lucifer’s movements paused. His pretty MC, the object of his desire, wants to touch him? He swore to keep you happy and protected, as was his job under his lords order — if you want him, you will get him as many times as your fragile body could handle.

“Kneel.”

MAMMON

Mammon wasn’t simply the avatar of greed. No, he was the embodiment of greed itself.

Money, of course, was of the most obvious things he was greedy for. The demon believed that nothing was as satisfying as spending a couple hundred-thousand Grimm on whatever his heart desired (Lucifer and Mammon’s outstanding credit card bill would adamantly disagree).

Though, if he had to choose, Mammon would say that what he was most greedy for was you — albeit dubiously.

It came as quite a surprise when the demon first realized how truly euphoric you’ve made him feel, whether it be spoiling you or being graciously spoiled by you — it was how he imagined heaven would truly feel had he not been cast out for falling to the temptation of his sin, of his greed.

Mammon wondered if his greed was beginning to rub off on you, if that was the reason you had jumped him immediately after he had gotten out of the shower. Or, perhaps, you had simply been hanging around the avatar of lust too much.

Either way, it was Mammon that you were greedy for.

Your kiss wasn’t as sweet as Mammon was used too, it was lustful — lascivious and obscene. He could taste the sugary sweetness of candied strawberries on your tongue and could feel the way you pressed yourself against him until there was no space left. It was as if you couldn’t get close enough to him, like you wanted to steal his breathe from his lungs, crawl under his skin and become him.

Mammon knew greed; he was greed. Yet, this was the first time he was able to appreciate the intensity of your greed.

“Take this off.” Your fingers were playing with the tied-waist of Mammon’s towel, the offending piece of cloth frustrating you to no end — you wanted it gone, you wanted an unobstructed view of your lovers body and you both knew it. “Wanna see you.”

“Yeah…” his tone was teasing, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, closer until you could feel how hard he is against you, “You wanna touch me too? You want my pleasure to be yours?”

Of course you did.

“Just want you,” your voice was quiet, almost as if the idea of wanting to be with Mammon was embarrassing, when, in fact, it was the complete opposite. You welcomed your want for the demon with open arms, even if he was a bit slower to admit his want for you.

“You have me.”

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan was insecure and, frankly, you had absolutely no idea why.

The purple haired demon had, in your mind, been a sight to behold since your first meeting. Even after his sin had overtaken him, when he had put you in danger — even then you continued to cherish and adore him.

In your current situation, you found yourself asking the question for what had to be the thousandth time: why?

Leviathan was beautiful. Everything about him.

His skin, marred with scars — delicate ones that were pale against his already pale complexion and lurid ones that flushed crimson, a reminder of the burns inflicted during the fall. They all told his story; for that, they were beguiling.

The avatar of envy was all sharp lines and tapered edges — you couldn’t help the way your eyes would glide over his figure whenever he decidedly graced you with his presence.

Yes, he was certainly beautiful — you were having difficulties deciding whether your current situation was a blessing or a curse. Maybe it was both.

It was clear that Leviathan had just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and mused, water droplets staining his skin as they trailed along the lines of his body, down, further — don’t look.

Though, it was difficult not to, proving nearly impossible to avoid taking in all of him when he was right there, standing in the middle of the room, showcasing himself to you. Levi was frozen, flustered at your presence, held hostage in a state of embarrassment just like you.

He was aroused like you were, too — something you noted as you admired his physique with both hands clasped over your mouth in shock.

Leviathans cock was hardened, long and thick with precum beading at the tip under your attentive gaze. You had to wonder if his arousal had anything to do with you or if he had intended to use his time after his shower to get off. You could only hope that you had starred in some of his fantasies.

You needed to leave. You really needed to leave. You hadn’t intended on walking in on him like this, and the last thing you wanted was to ruin a friendship that took so much time to cultivate by staring at him any longer than you already had.

Levi’s shock bled into bitter confusion: just as quickly as you had walked into his room, you had left with the slam of his door.

The demon wasn’t thrilled that you had walked in on him, that this was how you were made to see him so vulnerable, but he figured it was an opening — a twisted opportunity to have the conversation that so desperately needed to be had.

But you had left, walked out on him without so much as a word. He had been unable to read your expressions, to get some idea of what you thought of him.

Maybe if Leviathan was better at keeping his envy in check he would have realized that, perhaps, you simply left because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the demon had never been very good at controlling his sin.

Levi couldn’t help but wonder if it was the scars that scared you off. Or, maybe, his body wasn’t what you were looking for — he knows you’ve seen Asmodeus in a state of undress… maybe his brother was more your type. Could it have been his personality? Did you think of him as nothing more than a friend?

Was he really so undesirable?

SATAN

You wish you could say that catching him was an accident, that you hadn’t been completely intent on seeing the avatar of wrath in a state of absolute vulnerability. You thought of it as payback — an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, so to speak. Reparations for an accident that lead to Satan walking in on you in quite a vulnerable state.

But, was that really an accident? No, not if the knowing look in the demon’s eyes after the fact had anything to say about it.

Satan was intelligent, that was something he prided himself on. Nothing around him happened without him wanting it to happen — a fact you must’ve overlooked when deciding that, yes, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to exit the shower without prior announcement would be a good idea.

And, really, if you had thought your plan through just a little more, you would have seen that you were exactly where he wanted you.

“Such a pretty little thing…” The words fell easily from Satan’s tongue, his sentence trailing off as his thumb traced over your bottom lip. He stood in front of you, towel riding low on his hips — too low; dangerously low.

“You’re towel- it’s going to fall.”

The smile that graced Satan’s lips could only be described as sinister — wicked, corrupt, completely vicious; he was looking at you like a predator would look at prey, and you had no reluctance in believing that that was exactly what you were to him. Prey.

“Wouldn’t you like that,” Satan mocked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? Because you want to pleasure me?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed he was tempting you — with his body, with his words that were coated in honey.

“Say the word, pretty one, and I’m yours to use as you please.”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held no shame. It was a fact that you had learned very early on during your time in the Devildom, a fact that became increasingly obvious the more time you spent with him.

Innocent requests of let me paint your nails and play with my hair had quickly turned into requests of let me kiss you and bathe with me.

You hadn’t yet agreed to those kinds of requests — even the avatar of lust had yet to guide you into falling for temptation. Though, you had to believe that this — this misfortune — would be the inevitable turning point.

“Fuck, baby,” the words fell from Asmo’s mouth as a blissful moan, “your mouth feels so good — better than heaven.”

The demon stood over you, his cock in your mouth and his hands placed over the back of your head, holding you steady as he thrusted against your tongue.

You gagged around his length, tears gathering in your eyes that only served to push Asmo towards his release.

The turn of events wasn’t expected. You hadn’t gone to Asmodeus’ room expecting him to be clad in only a towel that hung low on his waist, nor did you expect to find yourself on your knees to service him. But, the towel that lay discarded on the floor made you think that, just maybe, this should have been expected, and the demon that stood in front of you, letting loose the prettiest moans you had ever heard, made you believe that this was simply bound to happen.

“I’m gonna cum,” the demon whined, his hips stuttering as he pushed his cock as far into your mouth as he could. His abdominals flexed and you could feel him twitch in your mouth as he moaned — loudly and without fear of any of his brothers hearing.

When Asmodeus finally came, his release spilling down your throat, you swore you could never get enough of him. When he pulled away from you, admiring the string of saliva that connected your lips to his cock, and you could see the way his cock began to harden once again, was when you realized how truly shameless the avatar of lust was.

“Next time…” Asmo breathed out, “next time you should just bathe with me. But, right now, I just want to taste you.”

BEELZEBUB

You had two options to choose from when venturing to pull a reaction from Beelzebub: eating his food or withholding his food from him. Neither of those options produced a reaction that was particularly favorable (unless you’re into being literally eaten — Beel loved you, but he loved food just a smidge more).

You were convinced you would never be able to get a favorable reaction from him — a reaction that ended with you on your back and the avatar of gluttony between your thighs. Weeks of teasing, of dropping not-so-subtle hints of what you were after yielded no results. None whatsoever and you were beginning to wonder if he was attracted to you in even the slightest.

Though, your current predicament successfully cut off that train of thought.

You were going to have to talk to him, that much was for certain. You had intended on doing so; you swear to heaven and earththat’s all you went to his room to do.

It wasn’t your fault that Beelzebub had grown into the habit of leaving the door open when he showered, really. It wasn’t Beel’s fault either — it was his room and Belphegor never spent any time in there anyway.

It also wasn’t your fault that you could feel your heartbeat speed up at the realization that your lover was less than 15 feet away from you and naked. Nor was it your fault that the demon was audibly pleasuring himself to the thought of you, your name falling from his lips as he pumped his cock in the steaming shower.

You moved to sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing your thighs together for just a bit of relief. The pressure of your thighs pushed together didn’t help much, but you hadn’t exactly expected it to — at this point, you were almost certain the only way you were going to be able to satisfy yourself was with Beel’s help.

‘His fingers would do,’ you thought, your eyes closed as you imagined the way his fingers would fill you up, how they would brush up against that one spot inside you — the one that makes all your muscles tense and pleasured moans spill from your lips. You wondered if he would use his tongue on you, if he would enjoy the way you taste, if he would hold your hips down and savor everything you had to give him.

You wondered if Beelzebub was the type to leaving you marked and aching, completely satiated, yet wanting more.

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes shot open, your gaze landing on Beelzebub, who was dripping wet and holding a towel loosely around his waist.

You hadn’t heard the shower stop, nor had you realized your hand had made its way between your thighs, rubbing at your clit through the thin material of your panties under your skirt.

You couldn’t quite tell what Beel was thinking. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted; maybe a little annoyed? Though you couldn’t understand why he would be annoyed, of all things. You could understand being uncomfortable, angry, even irritated, but annoyed? It didn’t make sense.

You stood, making your way towards Beelzebub, feeling the way his eyes stayed glued on your figure, embarrassment making your body heat up.

“I didn't’- I was just- You were- Beel?” Whatever stuttered out thought you were going to try to make sense of was stopped when the demon began moving closer to you, your own body moving backwards until your legs hit the bed, forcing you to sit down in order to put some sort of space between you and your lover.

His presence was looming and you would have been scared had you not known him as well as you did.

“Why were you touching yourself,” yes, he was annoyed, “when I’m right here — when I should be the only one touching you?”

“I don’t-”

“You should be punished — for not letting me take care of you, for not coming to me first,” Beelzebub’s words were quiet, low as he spoke to you, “I’m going to pleasure you until you learn your lesson, until I’ve had my fill; and then I’m going to keep pleasuring you anyway, because you’ve kept yourself from me for so long — too long — and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

BELPHEGOR

“You’re such a dumb fucking slut, you know that?”

Belphegor was behind you, pushing your head into the pillows as his cock slammed as deep into you as possible, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust. You could feel the way his cock bulged in your belly while he was in you, and indulged in the way the tip brushed against your spongey walls — it was euphoric in every sense of the word.

“You liked walking in on me after my shower? Hmm?” The demon was taunting you, trying to rile you up as he provided you and himself with much needed relief. “Can feel you clenching around me — you’re practically sucking me in, little slut.”

“Please, Belphie,” you whined, tears welling in your eyes at the feeling of him inside of you, wanting more than you already had of him, “please!”

Belphegor rolled his eyes — you were always so needy. You disturb his sleep, you invade his privacy, you tell him what to do and when to do it all because you want him to fill your cunt, to make you feel good. He was done with you controlling how he fucked you, how he loved you — if you wanted him, you’d have to take whatever he decides to give you.

“Wish you could just be a good girl for me, be the good girl everybody already thinks you are.” Belphegor’s words were breathy, unable to catch a breath as he fucked into you. “Why can’t you be a good girl?”

“I am!” It was a cry, a plea that fell from your lips. You were a good girl, you swore you were. “I am a good girl — promise!”

“If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t have invaded my privacy, would have knocked on the door instead of just walking in. You wanted to see my cock, wanted me to fill you up instead of waiting like a good girl would. No, you’re not a good girl — you’re my dirty, needy little slut,” the demon leaned down, his lips pressed against your ear, “You need to be taught a lesson, you stupid, impatient human.”

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 38

part 1 | part 37 | ao3

"Sure thing."

"Can you go say hey to everyone, too? Please?" he adds. "I need a second."

He expects Eddie to tease him for being bossy, but Eddie just winks and says, "Do you one better than that, sugar," smiling playfully with his tongue out like a dog before he bounds outside and tackles one of the kids into a pile of snow.

Steve uses the distraction to clean himself up; towel the sweat from his face and hair and clean the blood off of his knuckles, and when he steps outside a moment later Eddie's shouting "no wedgies no wedgies!!" while Dustin tries to shove a snowball down the back of his pants.

"Steve!" Eddie calls out when he spots him. "Steve, help!"

"No, help me!" Dustin counters with a strained grunt as Eddie grapples him into a chokehold. Mike yells "Get him, Eddie!" and Lucas rolls his eyes and mutters, "This is what we get for not bringing any girls."

The trip is pure chaos right from the jump, which Steve anticipated the second he suggested packing five dudes into a van for a run to the hardware store (he had to sit through ten minutes of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas arguing over everything from girls to books to whether The Cure objectively sucks or not until Eddie finally hollered "shut the fuck up!" and drowned them all out with 'real music'), but it feels good to be in charge. To have a project to manage, even if he's the reason there's a project in the first place.

He bosses the boys around the aisles when they get to the store, gathering up supplies — tarps and tools and vinyl, a few sheets of plywood to repair the damaged subfloor, disinfectant spray and gloves; safety shit, too, just in case they need it — and it reminds him of that day in the junkyard. Hey, dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?

"You talk to Max lately?" he asks Lucas when they get a minute alone.

Lucas dips his head and kicks at the wheel of their shopping cart, looking so much like a kid, even though he's almost taller than Steve now. "No," he says with a frustrated sigh. "I don't— it's like she's there, but she's not there. You know? I don't know how to reach her."

"Mm." Steve gets that. Felt it just this morning. He claps a hand to Lucas' shoulder. "Just give her time," he suggests, bending to grab a sanding block off a shelf and drop it in the cart.

In his periphery, he sees Eddie skipping at the far end of the aisle while Mike and Dustin chase after him. "Is she still with Eddie's friend?"

Lucas glares at the back of Eddie's head at Steve's reminder, voice sullen when he answers, "Shit, man. I don't know."

"Is he being cool to you?"

"Who, Gareth?"

"No, Eddie," Steve clarifies, remembering Erica's threat-request to look out for her brother.

"Oh." Lucas scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he treats basketball like it's the Dark Side, but-"

He breaks off with a little laugh, and Steve laughs with him. "Yeah. He's kind of dramatic. I'll talk to him about it."

"You will?"

"Sure. Jock solidarity and all that." He gives Lucas a fist bump, and Lucas gives him a long, thoughtful look, chewing his lip.

"So you guys are, like... friends now?"

Steve's heart gives an unhelpful flutter at the question. They are like friends now, he guesses, if friends kiss each other with tongue.

He clears his throat at that thought and looks away to hide his blush; sees Eddie using a cut of PVC pipe as a sword, lunging at Mike in a fencer's pose and shouting 'en garde!' "...Unfortunately, yeah."

—

part 39

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #my writing #my fic

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semischarmed · 5 months

Text

Thread

Don’t blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.

= = = = =

The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying “ritualistic” items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a “ritualistic” item that was classified as mundane.

Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability.

I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle.

I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.

- - - -

I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. “Protection”. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to get… creative.

Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname “old faithful,” having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt “Juicy Joe” (A nickname he wasn’t aware of). None of have succeeded.

And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being “faithful to Brit” and getting Charlie “out of his shell”.

I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.

— - - - - -

“Oh hey Joey!” I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.

“Hey dude! Uh, sorry I don’t remember names to well”. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.

“No need to apologize. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. “My name’s gonna be Joey too”. He nodded and smiled politely but the man’s face couldn’t hide his visible confusion.

I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joey’s part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. “Uh hey again… Joey… can I help you?”

I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. “Fuck dude, you smell so hot”. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.

“Hey bro, you should probably lea-“ He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. “The fuck?”

He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch.

“No one can hear you bro, it’s after finals, remember?” I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. “Can’t have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologne”. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times.

Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “Your turn”.

“What the fuck dude!? What makes you think-“ He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man.

I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. “P-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?”

I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you. I want you. Every part of you.”

A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. ‘Bless these stretchy workout shirts,’ I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.

With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.

The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.

“Now for some real fun” I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.

= = = = =

When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. “Fuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jock” I moaned.

Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. “L-Let me go man. Look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I don’t remember doing anything.”

I laughed callously. “No need to apologize, bro. You haven’t done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.” I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.

“Babe?” She answered. “What’s up?”

“H-HEL-“ He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe.

“Joey? Is everything all right?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Joey’s mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. “You’re so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you it’s over.” Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Brit’s eyes over the phone.

“Joey… I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used to…” She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.

I continued the puppet show as Joey’s eyes continued pleading with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe. In fact, it’s finally all right over here.” He stated with a smile. Joey’s eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.

Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. “Do you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it once…” She sniffled. “But I thought we were fine” said a choked up Britney.

“Fuck no this isn’t fine. Look at me. I’m a fucking bull.” Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. “I bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.”

“Babe, what’s wrong? You never talk about your body that-“

“Brit, just shut the fuck up”. That seemed to shut her up. “Always fucking whining too…” I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. “It’s over”.

Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. “Fffuuuuck” I moaned. “You’re fucking mine, Joe.” Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. “I’m fucking yours”. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.

“Joey- who is that?”

I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.

I willed my flesh puppet to answer. “Oh, him? I’ve been fucking him during this call, Brit. That’s how boring you are. Stupid too- we’ve been fucking for months and you never noticed” I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. “Fuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Good”. I make him gasp in between breaths.

“So you’re fucking him, right now?” She asked, now turning to anger.

“Mmph… YES” I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,” Britney shouts, before hanging up.

Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joey’s eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder.

I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. “Take me, bro. I’m your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.

I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.

With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat.

I made him reiterate my will. “I’m all yours,” Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joey’s mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didn’t want this to end. Joey’s body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. “I’m all yours.”

Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock.

What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.

Just my luck.

Charlie.

= = = = =

A two-parter. Could not for the life of me get usable photos of “Joey” in a compression shirt, so you’re gonna have to use a little imagination for that one haha.

#male puppet #male corruption

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lightdustchild · 6 months

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Thinking about a s/o ti Ayanokoji that once was a tool, then became a friend, then he got obsessed and now they're lovers, just imagine how confused he must look....could you do that, please? I love your blog, by the way. 🙂❤️

Obsessed

Ayanokoji x gn reader

He didn't know when he started calling you a friend. Didn't know when he stopped thinking of you as a tool he could dispose of with a snap of his fingers.

The main confusion came when he fell in love with you. He'd never felt this before so honestly he didn't even notice he loved you till later on and finally confessed (rathee bluntly). The possessiveness was almost natural at this point.

"Who was that?" Ayanokoji questioned as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind giving your hips a tight squeeze as he glared at the persons back.

"Just a friend" you said reassuringly and he hummed if he was just a friend then you shouldn't mind him randomly switching schools right?

He knew he was obsessed with you. He noticed immediately. You were his. It was as simple as that. You want to leave him? He'll manipulate you into staying. You like someone else? Deal with there corpse in your mail then. Your his and that is final in his head.

No one can have you.

#x reader #classroom of the elite #ayanokoji #ayanokoji x gender neutral reader #ayanokoji x reader #ayanokoji x you #ayanokoji headcannons #ayanokoji yandere

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reading-comp-posting · 3 months

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Have you ever considered using AI tools to assist with writing your responses?

Well no, because I'm doing this blog for fun. I'm enjoying writing out reading comprehension questions for posts, so why would I automate that away?

But let's say that I saw myself as some sort of arbitor of reading comprehension who needs to post as much as possible to enlighten the lowly tumblr masses. Let's say that I'm interested in upping my output of questions by any means necessary.

I opened up chatgpt and input a certain request, which would hopefully make it write questions about the last post I responded to:

Write reading comprehension questions about a Tumblr post, written by a user named "echoeyee," that reads as folows: "my take on shipping aromantic characters is that if you're aro you get to do whatever you want and if you're not you have to write me a three page essay 12 pt font times new roman double spaced explaining in detail why you believe entering a romantic relationship would be an interesting and worthwhile storyline for the character and how you believe their aromanticism would affect the way they experience said relationship"

And it certainly did write a lot of questions about it. Let's go through them, one by one.

1. What is the primary stance expressed by the Tumblr user "echoeyee" regarding shipping aromantic characters?

This one is good. If you look at the set I wrote, my first one is basically the same, just with different words and a less formal tone.

2. According to the post, what conditions must non-aromantic individuals fulfill if they wish to advocate for romantic storylines involving aromantic characters?

Again, this one is good. It's basically my 3rd question but, yet again, more formal.

3. Describe the format and specifications outined for the essay mentioned in the post.

This is the part where the questions get bad. The exact details of the essay are irrelevant, other than the fact that they imply a formal, academic setting.

4. In your own words, explain the user's perspective on the autonomy of aromantic individuals in contrast to non-aromantic individuals when it comes to shipping characters.

This question seems to genuinely be a product of chatgpt pissing on the poor. The purpose of the post (and specifically the essay within) is to ask people who ship aromantic characters without being aromantic themself to consider said character's aromanticism instead of erasing it.

Meanwhile, chatgpt seems to think that the OP thinks that people who aren't aromantic should be forced by law or something to write an essay if they want to ship an aromantic character.

5. How does the Tumblr post reflect the user's views on representation and storytelling in relation to aromantic characters?

I think that this one is a bit too speculative, but it does actually relate to the OP's intended takeaway.

6. Discuss the potential implications of the requirements set forth in the post for writers and creators in the realm of fiction and fanworks.

This one is just a bit confusing. Chatgpt seems to be going off the assumption that OP is issuing a decree as the emperor of the world.

7. Reflect on whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed in the post and provide reasons to support your viewpoint.

This could have been a "discuss with a mutual" question, and I actually did initially write a question like this one, but I ended up removing it.

Aromantiscism is already controversial enough and I fear that a discussion of whether OP's take on shipping aromantic characters is valid could quickly devolve into discussion on whether aromanticism itself is valid.

8. How might the user's approach impact discussions and representations of aromanticism in media and popular culture?

Yet again, chatgpt is taking the essay thing way too literally. Yes, forcing every single writer who isn't aromantic but wants to ship an aromantic character to write an essay about it would most likely lead to a decrease in people erasing their identities, but the essay isn't the point.

9. Consider the broader societal and cultural context in which this post is situated. How might prevailing attitudes towards romantic relationships influence reactions to the user's perspective?

Obviously historical context is important to keep in mind when you're reading/listening to/watching/whatever a text, but this question has almost nothing to do with reading comprehension. You need to understand the post to imagine how people would react, sure, but understanding how people would react to the post doesn't help you understand this post very much.

10. What insights can be gleaned from this post regarding the importance of diverse and inclusive storytelling in media and creative works?

This could be a discuss with a mutual question. The issue is that it's a bit to broad of a topic.

#not reading comprehension questions #ask #self post

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writers-potion · 13 days

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Healing

Most religions have a form of healing magic - it may be called "faith healing" and "miracle".

Some healing magic is subtle, strengthening he body's own immune defences so it can fight off infections, cancer cells and hormonal imbalances. In such cases, this might not be considered magic by others.

Dramatic, sudden healings attract a lot of attention and will run into many ethical dilemmas:

What if the magician is kept in captivity to keep the king young, forever?

What if the magician is forced to heal armies that are doing terrible things?

What if the magician only heals those in power/ who can afford to pay them?

In modern society, it is possible for the line between healing magic and life science to be blurred. Magic might simply amplify existing medicines, or provide luck to surgens who are performing a particularly tricky operation.

Protection

Many people seek magical protection, and hire magicians to provide it.

A farmer might seek to protect his crops

A mother might seek to protect her offspring

A courtesan seeks protection from her lover's wives

A soldier who seek protection from attacks.

Methods through which it may be achieved:

Using an amulet, necklace, or other tools that must be carried

A mark or tattoo for protection

A circle or physical barrier surrounding the client

A blessing that wears off with time

A protection spell that can be memorized and used only once.

Talismans and Amulets

Talisman and amulets give magical enegy to the people who wear them. They are two different objects, so it's best not to get them mixed up if your story has both. The follow categorization is fluid:

An amulet gives general help, while a talisman serves one specific purpose.

An amulet keeps harm away, while a talisman empowers the wearer.

An amulet is motly secular, while a talisman typically contains divine/angelic/spiritual energy

An amulet usually works for whoever that wears it, while a talisman is custom made for one user.

An amulet deflects negative energies, while a talisman attracts positive ones.

They are generally small objects that can be worn or carried. They have symbols on them which charges them with magical power.

In ancient societies, amulets and talismans were big business, with magician earning large sums by making and recharging them.

Guarding Against Harmful Magic

Using magic to harm or kill others is generally frowned upon. However, the magician may accept the job of hexing or cursing someone, given that they are paid well.

Hexes and curses

A hex is worked in cold blood, unemotionally. A curse involves intense emotions.

A hex lasts for a given period, then wear off. A curse may last a lifetime or even generations.

A hex is usually secular, while a curse often has a religious element (placed by or on behalf of a deity)

A hex is usually Low Magic while a curse may be High Magic

A hex is always worked by a magician while a cuse can sometimes be worked by a non-magician

A hex can affet an object or a person, a curse almost always affects a person.

Hexes tend to cause great nuisance, while curses bring long-term devastating harm.

Protection against magical attacks

The afflicted person may seek to undo the hex or spell, often at a high cost (even life)

Rituals may either aim to deflect other magical attacks, get rid of the attack, or send the spell back to the sender.

Sometimes, placing a curse or hex has a consequence to the caster, and this will deter a magician from doing it in the first place.

The client may pay to lessen the impact of a curse or seek drugs to ease their pain under it.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 months

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Hello! Considering how you now write for Chiori, and that I highly appreciate your Genshin headcanons... I think it's about time I grant you the honor of my first ever tumblr ask 👀

How would Chiori act with a S/O who is more on the sensitive side, the kind to not appreciate harsh words, or having people raise their voices at them? (totally not me checking my own hypothetical compatibility with her)

We know she can basically use her sass to roast people on the spot (not to mention her skills in graceful arcs making) in public, though during her SQ, we also get to see a somewhat softer side from her, when in a more private environment/with friends... But she also went "ugh eww ugh" when Xavier cried in joy during the 4.3 movie event.

So... that got me genuinely wondering. Feel free to add more characters if you feel inspired/like doing that (how their behavior with S/O would change depending of the setting being in public or in private?), and have a nice day 😊

(Genshin Impact) Chiori with a softer S/O

I am honored that I am your first blog you ask! Hopefully you enjoy!

Chiori honestly does not act that differently, even in private or when she has a S/O.

She has never apologized for being herself, and that would not change no matter what.

And if someone got with her, they would know that when they decided she was the person they loved.

Even if the person she spoke to was an absolute sweetheart, Chiori doesn't mince words in the slightest.

(Chiori) "...S/O, you are not going out in those rags. Here, let me pick something out for you."

She doesn't really hold anything back because she loves her S/O, and the fact they love her means she can unapologetically be herself.

That being said, she isn't heartless.

Chiori tries to phrase things slightly more gently. Such as:

(Chiori) "What I want for my birthday? Hm, I would like new tools...Keep it a surprise? Why would I do that when you can just get me something I like?"

Key word being: tries

She's at least tactful enough to not make them cry from her usual harsh words.

In private, she can get a little more handsy than usual.

She just sits on the bed and lays her head on their shoulders, taking a deep sigh.

(Chiori) "...You must be tired too. Go ahead and rest your head on me."

Her love language is definitely acts of service than words, which goes both ways.

She'd rather show why she loves her gentle S/O, than just tell them.

And that comes across in the clothes she tailors for them, never ever skipping on any expense.

(Chiori) "This kimono will match that perfectly with that pretty smile of yours, now quit squirming. I gotta take the measurements..."

Since they don't like anyone raising their voices at them, Chiori is the first one to step in to apply verbal or physical violence upon anyone doing so.

It doesn't matter who they are, if someone tries to pick on her sweetheart, than they're going to be picking glass out of their clothes.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #chiori genshin impact x reader #chiori genshin impact #chiori x reader #chiori genshin

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renphousa · 4 months

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glitteringcrab · 5 months

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Evil Morty and the other Mortys (part 2)

A continuation of this blog.

Theory 7: Internalized victim blaming

Evil Morty is not the only Morty acting extremely harsh to other Mortys. We've already seen random Mortys in the Citadel being jerks to other Mortys.

1) Mortys in Morty Town seem to be particularly aggressive towards Cop Morty. It's unclear if it's because he's a cop (and therefore they're equally aggressive to Cop Rick), or if it's because a Morty accompanied by a Rick. Or if they are aggressive to Cop Rick because he dared enter Morty Town. It could be all of the above.

Cop Morty, in turn, returns the favor.

Here we have a Morty who dares to utter the phrase "Mortys are human!" (I mean... is it a matter of debate?! YIKES)

And he gets (a) called a "Rickless animal" (b) electrocuted for his trouble.

Soon after, we see Cop Morty:

(d) electrocuting another Morty for absolutely no reason:

Note that the derogative insults obviously apply to Cop Morty as well. He, too, is a Rickless Morty, as he keeps making clear that Cop Rick is simply his partner, not his Rick. And he might wear a uniform right now, but at some point in the past he definitely wore a yellow shirt.

2) AT THE SAME TIME, having a Rick is also an insult:

(and things escalate fast)

3) Initially, Cop Morty was capable of overplaying his "Mortyness" to other Mortys...

...who also did the exact same thing to him, before making fun of him:

Mortys are also overplaying their Mortyness to Ricks...

...which apparently is a thing that happens often, judging from Cop Morty's immediate explanation:

Cop Morty tries the exact same technique against his partner... (and it's clear at this point that Cop Morty actually liked Cop Rick... but doing as Cop Rick was asking him to do would have serious consequences for him, so Cop Morty put his own well-being first)

However, Cop Rick is wise to this trick by now, and so he is ready. He shoots first.

4) Mortys are quick to throw other innocent Mortys under the bus, so that they can escape:

Here is a description of the Mortys responsible for the perpetration of the store robbery:

No noteworthy features. Just four normal Mortys.

And here is a picture of the Morty Town Locos:

They have facial tatoos... THEY DIDN'T ROB THAT STORE.

5) Cop Morty is ready to go to extreme measures to erase every trace of the Morty Town Locos:

Do any of the above sound familiar?

Derogative terms to other Mortys...

...including self...! (pretty justifiably though, in this case)

2. Getting angry at the suggestion that he is accompanying a Rick:

3. Overplaying his Mortyness

4. Throwing innocent Mortys under the bus:

5. Going to extreme measures for your own well-being...

They're all textbook variations of the things Evil Morty has been doing.

Which makes sense. After all, if he is one of the many excess clones in the Citadel, then his experiences must be similar to the experiences of the other unwanted Mortys, and they should have similar reactions. The only difference between them is that his actions have been careful, calculated and ultimately successful (and, uh, excessive), whilst theirs have been uncoordinated and heated.

If we take into account all of the above, it seems to me that there might be a lot of internalized victim-blaming among the excess Mortys of the Citadel.

If they partner with a Rick, they're sell-out yellowshirt Mortys who throw away their self-respect in favor of Ricks' interests, who choose to turn a blind eye to all the atrocities Ricks have been committing, who worship an undeserving being all for the sake of a mocking semblance of family, encouraging other Mortys to engage in the same self-destructive act. They want to be a human shield. (They might as well be a human shield, then...)

If they don't partner with a Rick they have very few tools in their disposal to survive. They have to become as ruthless and unforgiving as their surroundings. They have to become their own Rick, so that they can catch up to their Rick-full environment. And the Mortys who choose to not do that? It's their fault for being weak and emotional and not doing what needs to be done. I mean, think of it. Evil Morty overpowered his Rick simply by making him drunk. Literally every Morty could do that, if they wanted. They just choose not to. Morty Prime can disassemble neutrino bombs. My bet is he could assemble one too, if he wanted. He could easily kill a black-out drunk Rick C-137, if he decided to. Or he could try to find a way to keep Rick in stasis, so that he doesn't return via Operation Phoenix. But he doesn't. He chooses to let the abuse keep happening to him, so he's deserving of his fate.

(I mean, not really, of course, but I can totally see Ricks mocking their Mortys for not having the guts to stand up for themselves and claiming that Mortys want the abusive relationship to continue... otherwise, why even enlist in a Morty Agency, if not because you want more of the same?)

(At the same time, Ricks manipulate Mortys into believing they're selfish for trying to set boundaries... Into believing they're evil for not putting Ricks' wellbeing first.) (might as well actually be evil then, huh)

...I'm glad the Citadel's gone.

#rick and morty #evil morty

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