#hearing 'this is me' in the workshop session

[thebibliosphere]

Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.

I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.

Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.

Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.

The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.

Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.

I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.

So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.

If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.

Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.

And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.

And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.

I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.

Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.

Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.

I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.

[vadersassistant]

Irresistibly Yours One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)

Summary: (Y/N) has been hiding across the galaxy for a year, attempting to flee her husband alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi, but now it is over. When the Sith finally tracks her down she must make a choice, continue to live a lie or leave with the man she loves. Takes place during Kenobi with altered events. Reader is previously a Jedi married to Anakin Skywalker.

Warnings: Make out session, mentions of sex, slight violence (not towards reader)

A/N: The poll I made landed in a 50/50 between suited Vader and nightfall Vader so I'm giving you the best of both worlds. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.

“You have to go,” I demanded, turning away from the door in horror.

“(Y/N),” Kenobi pleaded.

“He wants me Obi-Wan, we don’t have a choice,” I reasoned. “You know he will continue to harm those people until I come out from hiding.”

“He’s going to try and take you.”

“And I’ll try and throw him off my trail, at least one of us needs to escape.”

“I understand,” he said, after a moment of silence.  “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

“May the force me with you Obi-Wan,” I nodded to him, saying the old phrase intentionally.

“You as well.”

I watched him enter the secret tunnels in the back of the workshop before it slid shut, and audibly sighed. I knew it was hopeless, it wasn’t possible to ever escape him. I couldn’t, not with how well he knew me. A part of me didn’t even agree with Kenobi, as he still believed in the Jedi and being heroes. I had changed, and their morals didn’t resonate with me any longer, not since the fall.

My body shook, as I ran as hard as I could once opening the door. It was loud on purpose, everyone standing in the little street seeing me and yelping in surprise. I saw the inquisitorious point in my direction, calling out my action for their lord. I could feel it, even though I couldn’t see his face beneath the mask. I could feel that he was looking at me, the two of us making eye contact for the first time in a year. He was massive, even taller than before and stronger than ever, right on my tail as I fled. I was quick, my legs carrying me into the maze of shipping crates and dirt from afar. I should have been quieter, but I knew that wouldn’t do much. He could track me in other ways, like the force.

His cold presence clung to my shoulders as I ran between the mounts that acted like walls. I needed to throw him off, but I knew it was impossible. He was too intelligent, too quick. His steps were twice as much as my own, the force connection that bound us inseverable. My heartbeat picked up, so much so I could hear it as if it were right in my ear. My hands were trembling lightly from the thrill of fleeing.

“There is no escape,” his modulated voice said, but I couldn’t tell where it came from.

“I’ll never join you,” I whispered.

The Sith was nowhere to been seen. I backed up, returning to my original pace and attempting to find him again in the pitch black, even though his suit was the same color. He hadn’t ignited his saber yet, although it didn’t make much of a difference, since I hadn’t ignited mine in months. In truth, I hadn’t touched a thing related to the Jedi in a year. All of it, including the force, I severed myself from, up until he started hunting me down.

He invaded my dreams, doing everything in his power to get to me. When he came, it wasn’t painful, it felt amazing, too good; feelings I only experienced in his presence. He tried to pleasure me, sooth me and coax me into joining him, promising to save me from Kenobi. He abused our connection from our time as Jedi’s, seeping into my conscious and speaking to my thoughts, ghosting my body with his invisible touch. Every time I thought of him, I thought of the past. I told myself I didn’t love him, but we both knew it was a lie.

“Really?”

I knocked into something hard, strong hands coming around my upper arms. They kept me in place with ease, essentially locking me in my tracks. I looked up and swallowed, knowing I was done for.

“Vader,” my breath was short. I wouldn't call him Anakin.

“My dear,” he said.

“I am not your dear,” I tried to back up, but it was no use. My chest tightened, feeling his thumb rub my skin comfortingly.

“Yet you are weakening in my hold,” he spoke sweetly, opposite of his reputation. If anyone else rejected him, they would be dead, neck snapped, I knew that.

“You’re a liar,” I said unfearingly.

“You are the only one lying here, (Y/N),” Vader replied. “Don’t deny me any further.”

His voice lit a fire across my entire body, smooth yet so deep I could have lost it right then and there. It took everything to keep my composure, a fake stubbornness still trying to hold up across my face. I wanted so badly to do a million different things. A part of me thought to leave, to escape and flee once again. But another part of me wanted to follow him, leave Kenobi behind, and go into the depths of hell.

“I will never join you, Sith,” I used his new title as an insult. “Now let go of me.”

“Your thoughts betray you, my love,” Vader said. "I feel your conflict."

“I hate you.”

“Hate is not an attribute of a Jedi, or you,” he entertained. “You are too caring to hate.”

He was right, always right, and knew me far too well. I sighed aloud, as he still held me and I could just feel the victorious expression through his mask.

“I married Anakin Skywalker, not you.”

“Anakin Skywalker still remains, but only for your pleasure,” he rebutted. “I am here, waiting for you, my dear. You and I can overthrow the emperor, become the galaxies newest destined rulers. Leave Kenobi and set yourself free, do what we both know you long to. We are mean't to be together.”  

I looked into his helm, hoping that I might see his eyes through the blacked-out visors. My lips parted just slightly, breathing hitched as my hands rested on the Sith’s chest. You could see it, Vader's muscles breaching the clothes he wore. The armor fitted his broad shoulders perfectly, hands so skilled and trusted. My head dipped, succumbing to what I truly thought.

“I’m supposed to kill you, to try and run away.”

“I know,” he leaned forward, his mask hovering over my head.

“I told myself I wasn’t going to do this,” I my hands turned into fists, pounding on his chest in frustration.

“But you don’t agree with Kenobi,” he finished.

“I don't."

“So, join me, my dear,” Vader coaxed, placing a leather glove on my jaw to tilt my head upward.

I breathed deeply, my pupils slowly dilating while taking him in.

“Take the mask off."

Surprisingly, the Sith didn’t argue. He let go of me and slipped his thumb around the rim of the helm, like he needed to turn something off. A hissing sound followed, confirming my suspicions, and he lifted it above his head carefully, dropping it onto the ground. I watched it fall, clinking on the ground as if he didn’t care for it. My eyes slowly trailed back up, seeing his true appearance in what felt like forever.

His hair was the same length, wavy and brown, yet in the face he had grown so much. His jawline was even more developed, the scar still remaining on the right brow. The most prominent feature was his eyes, gold with red rimming the irises. His gaze was more alluring than before, a look I easily got flustered from. He grinned at me checking him out and let out a sexy and low laugh.

“Still have the same effect, don’t I?” Vader asked, his actual voice being used.

“Even better,” the words formed before I could think.

His robotic arm curled around the back of my head, the two of us enclosed on the space between. I slid my arms between his neck, kissing him deeply without hesitation. It felt like a war between hell and heaven, holding my breath for as long as possible while taking the Sith in. The further we went, the worse it got, to where I wrapped my legs around his lower waist and he held onto my ass. We would take short breaths touching each other as much as possible during it, enjoying as much as we could, the both of us starved from one another.

It was no surprise Vader got the upper hand, trailing his lips over to my cheek and down to my neck. He carried me over to a tower of crates, one sitting alone in front of the stack, sitting me down on it gently. I leaned back as if it was a wall, and sounds slipped from my mouth naturally. They were rare to come by, not having heard them in months, my husband well aware. I felt Vader smile as he got onto the crate as well and trailed his hand up my thigh to my top. He was straddling me, making me feel like I was weak, and it was to die for.

More whimpers left my lips, and I knew what he wanted. The Sith fiddled with the zipper of my jacket, remaining eye contact with me while doing so. I could feel his hot breath against my skin, forcing me to shudder as he started to take my clothing off. I wanted him so badly, feeling his cod piece harden against my thigh, but we both sensed something nearby. The two of us froze, silent as his cloak shielded me from anyone’s line of sight.

“Obi-wan is near,” I whispered.

“He has come back to try to take you away from me,” Vader said, his hands now placed on both sides so that I was caged in. It was protective, the look in his eyes possessive.

“We must go, you have to have a ship nearby,” I told him.

“I do, follow me,” he nodded.

I slid off the crate, slightly upset we had been interrupted, but there wasn’t time to think about it. Obi-wan would never forgive me if he saw this, and I preferred that I remained on good terms with him. Vader called for his helmet with the force, it quickly suctioning to his hand and then being placed on his head. I kept up with him, weaving through the maze of construction until we got closer to the town. It seemed that most of the Imperial forces had been ordered to leave, Vader having called them off unsurprisingly.

The people that once lingered around were all inside, sleeping away in fear from what happened. Behind all of the buildings was a ship, the shadow of it coming into view from around the corner. It was the infamous Tie-Fighter the Sith always flew in, extremely well developed and luxurious. He lifted up the hatch with a wave of two fingers, offering a hand politely to help me up onto the top. It was only when he got in first and sat down that I realized where this was going.

The ship was small, meant to be a one seater and easy to maneuver. Vader took off his helmet once more before shooting me a suggestive look and patting the inside of his leg. It created little space for me to sit in his lap, but I didn't think much of it, all I knew was that what had stopped before was about to resume.

LMK what you all thought about this. I honestly can't decide which Vader I like more so this was very fun to write

[landinrris]

Football AU snippet in which Carlos asks about Lando's willingness to participate in a friends and family football match for charity. (Very much inspired by Lando's PlayStation match)

Lando’s busy unloading a few vases from the kiln when he hears the back door to his studio unit open. He slides one of the vases onto a shelf and glances down at his watch to see that it’s around 5:30. Probably Carlos then.

He finishes unloading the vases onto the nearby shelf before he picks up a couple and walks back out into his main workshop area. Sure enough, Carlos is there in a pair of joggers and a hoodie sitting on the stool in front of Lando’s painting and glazing workbench. He’s busy inspecting the centerpiece bowl Lando had been painting intricate designs on earlier.

“What’re you doing here?” Lando asks, walking the two vases in his hands over to the table where Carlos is. He places them down to the side before making his way to Carlos and sitting on his leg. He loops his arms around Carlos’ shoulders and leans forward to kiss him.

Carlos grins against his lips and winds his arms around Lando’s waist to tug him closer. He smells like the shampoo and soap from the club's shower stalls and not at all like he’d been working out all afternoon.

“I figured you were still here, and I wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Mmm, just finishing up unloading some things, and then I was gonna head home. But now that you’re here, guess I don’t have to take the tube.”

“That is the only reason?”

Lando scratches absentmindedly at the nape of Carlos’ neck and smiles back. “Yeah, the only reason, clearly.”

Carlos pinches Lando’s ass, and Lando very resolutely does not react to it.

“This piece is beautiful. Is it for anyone specifically?” Carlos asks, nodding towards the bowl. Lando’s done pieces like this in the past, but not this specific kind of ornate pattern.

He’d wanted to try something new, something that inspired him about the way Carlos had been playing these last few months at his new team. He thinks the swirling red and black lines get at that magical way Carlos moves across the field-- that he captured it pretty well. He doesn’t tell Carlos as much now, not yet sure what he wants to do with the piece once it’s finished.

“Haven’t decided yet. I’m glad you like it though. Maybe I’ll keep it for us.”

Carlos squeezes his arms tighter and presses another kiss to Lando’s lips. Lando melts into it, never one to not take Carlos’ kisses when offered. It’s not quite late enough that Lando’s confident they’re truly alone or else he might let himself escalate things.

“There was something else I wanted to ask you,” Carlos eventually says, his thumb moving back and forth beneath Lando’s hoodie and against his skin.

Lando pulls his head back to a more respectable distance so that he can look at Carlos for whatever he needs to say. “What’s up?”

“The team is having a family and friends friendly match in two weeks for charity. I think I mentioned it last week briefly.”

Lando nods. Carlos had mentioned it in passing in the context of Lando donating a few pieces. They'd decided on a few mugs and vases for the online charity auction.

“They were trying to get a headcount of who planned to have a family member or friend to sign up. They are beginning to draw up the rosters. I told them that I would have to ask, but you might be interested?”

Lando chokes on a laugh. “Me? When have I ever been known to play football more than to help you train every so often?”

“Exactly. You will know more than half of the people who will come to play. And there will be a coaching session before any matches are played. Think of the children, Lando. You will do so much for them.”

“Am I not already doing enough?” Lando teases. He rolls the idea around in his mind and thinks about being the one on the field looking up to see Carlos in the stands. What it might feel like. To get a taste of what Carlos experiences every week. The thought admittedly thrills him.

“And who exactly are they getting to play?”

“They are putting together a mixed team. Some of the guys’ girlfriends and wives have agreed to play. A few of their friends. I convinced Teto to come play, and you would be a person as well.”

“Be your wag representative?”

“I do not think you are a wife or a girlfriend the last time I checked.”

“Oh sorry, sorry, your hab representative then.”

“Yes, much better. I cannot make any promises you will be on the same team as Teto though.”

Lando can’t help but groan. He might be allegedly better than half of the people coming to play, but he’ll not be better than Teto of all people. “Play the marginalized card.”

“Lando, I cannot do that.” He drops his face down onto Lando’s shoulder and huffs out a laugh. Lando holds him close and lets the giggles consume him as well, ever the one to feed off of Carlos’.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it. Let you be the one cheering me on for once. Just tell Teto to go easy on me if we’re not on the same team.”

Carlos lifts his face from Lando’s shoulder and looks at him with a serious expression. “Of course. I cannot tell you how excited I am to be the one watching. I know you will be brilliant.”

Lando swallows and scratches a hand around Carlos’ neck and up to his cheek. He searches for something to say, but nothing comes to his mind. Nothing to do the swirling thoughts and emotions in his mind justice. All he can figure to do is smile and swipe his thumb back and forth over Carlos’ cheek.

Eventually, Lando sighs. “This is gonna be some kind of roleplay kink for you, isn’t it?”

The laugh Carlos barks out is perfect. “Oh, do not think this hasn’t crossed my mind, don’t worry. Maybe after the match though. We need you in peak condition.”

Lando scoffs. “Figures. Okay, let me finish unloading the kiln and then we can go? Maybe we can do something that’s not one of your meal preps for dinner.”

Carlos clenches his hands against Lando’s hips and back and smiles. “Sounds perfect.”

[tyttetardis]

Macbeth Q&A 18th Jan 2024 Part 1

Was lucky enough to get a ticket for the Member's Event at the Donmar Warehouse that took place on the 18th...with the price of the patronages I sure never thought I'd have gotten the chance, but luckily, they also let in some non-members 🥹❤️

The brilliant performance of Macbeth was followed by a very quick cleaning of the stage - thought for sure it would've taken them longer to remove the blood than like 5 minutes - followed by a lovely, little Q&A session.

The Q&A was led by Craig Gilbert (Literary manager) who talked to Annie Grace and Alasdair Macrae (Musicians and part of the acting ensemble) as well as Cush Jumbo and David Tennant.

Anyway, just gonna write down some of the stuff they talked about :) sorry if it's a bit messy! Might be spoilery if you haven't seen it yet but are going to!

To begin with Craig remarked that he didn't think he'd ever seen that many people staying behind for a Q&A before (While I was just wondering why some people even left!? Stressful!).

David introduced himself with "My real name is David "Thane of Paisely" Tennant - while Cush introduced herself with "I´m Cush Jumbo - there's only one of me".

First question was Craig asking them what it was that brought them to the Donmar to do Macbeth - to which David pretty much just replied that 1. It's the Donmar! 2. It's Macbeth! One of the greatest plays of all time in an amazingly intimate space - and that the theatre is famous for its quality of work. So he found it quite hard to think of a reason not to do it!

Cush said she'd worked there before and loves the theatre, how it's so intimate but also a great workspace. Followed by her saying she said yes because David asked her. She talked about how important it was for this play to do it together with the right actor playing opposite you.

David says Max Webster asked him about a year ago if he wanted to do the play - he gave him the dates - and since there weren't any obstacles in the way, David didn't have any excuse not to do it.

He then said that he had slightly avoided Macbeth - there sorta being the assumption that if you're Scottish and has done some Shakespeare plays before you have to do Macbeth. Which he joked was a bit odd since it's not like every Italian has to play Romeo. Then he mentioned that Macbeth is probably a bit more of a jock than he is - that it seemed more like a part for big, burly actors.

Max had laid out his initial ideas to David, a lot of which are in the final production, and David thought he seemed lovely, bright and clever and inventive plus it being the Donmar Warehouse! To which joked that he had last worked there 20 years ago - when he was 8 years old! "It's just one of those spaces" - friendly and epic at the same time where it's such a pleasure to be on the stage.

When Craig asked his next question concerning the sound of the play someone asked him to speak louder as she couldn't hear them - to which David joked that they've gotten so used to whispering. But also said sorry, and that they would!

Alasdair explained a bit about the process of the binaural sound - bit I find it a bit difficult to decipher it all correctly, sorry. He did say that a interesting part of it is that it allows them a controlled environment where they can put all the musicians (and even the bagpipes!) behind the soundproof box so "Poor David and Cush" doesn't have to shout over all the racket.

Craig asked David and Cush what their reaction was when they heard about the concept of the binaural soundscape - to which David replied that it didn't quite exist when they first came onboard - Cush joking they were tricked into it. Then she talked about her and David going on a workshop with Max to get a feeling of how it would all work - and get a sense of how it would sound to the audience, as this was one of the few times, they got to hear that side of it. Their experience of the play being completely different to the experience the audience has.

Cush said they can hear some of the sound - like she can hear some of the animal sounds and David can hear some of the stuff from the glass box - but most of their cues and information comes from timing with each other. She said they won't be able to ever hear what the audience hears - to which David joked "We're busy".

It felt like mixing medias - as it all went quite against their natural stagecraft instinct - but Cush found that in the long run it made things very interesting - like they don't have to worry about getting something whispered to each other - as the audience will hear it anyway.

David said the odd thing is that they don't really know what the experience truly is like. He mentioned that to the sides of the stage there's a speaker for them where they will get any cues that they need to hear. Like they can hear the witches - but they can't hear where they are "positioned" - so they have to learn how to place themselves to fit with what the audience hears. They don't hear everything, though. And the audio they hear is quite quiet, so it doesn't disturb what comes through the headphones.

He thinks it's been exciting - that it's a bit like a mix between film and theatre. It's happening live - but it's also like post-production is happening between them and the audience as it's going on. They just have to trust that the audience is hearing what they are supposed to for it all to make sense.

Cush said she thinks in 10 - 20 years, as these technologies has developed, doing theatre like this will feel a lot more normal - not that they will do it ALL the time, but that they will be doing it - whereas now it's still like an experiment. What Cush really like about the concept is that if was done in a much bigger theatre - then people in the cheapest seats would be able to have an experience much more similar to those in the most expensive seats - they'd be a lot more immersed into the action.

David then talks about how it feels extremely counterintuitive to not go on stage and speak loud enough that the people in the back row can also hear you. And usually, if they can't hear you, you aren't doing your job right! But then it felt very liberating. He loves it.

Cush then talked about how it felt odd waiting in the wings for a cue you can't hear - where you traditionally wait backstage and you can hear your cues, you can hear the rythm and know when it's your turn - so it was quite disconcerting to hear silence. So it's basically down to them now knowing the show and each other's timings - like if David is standing at a certain point, she knows how long she has before she needs to say/do something. So you have to watch each other more closely and really focus on what the others are doing.

David asked the musicians if they can hear everything inside the box, to which Annie replied that they get everything except some extra bits in the soundscape. But they can hear the actors on stage. Annie said it's actually a bit of a mystery to all of them what the audience actually experiences - how the big pictures actually look like - they just have to trust that it's there "Is it there?!".

Someone asked if they had had any adverse reactions from audiences to having to wear the headphones. Quite a bit of laughter all around :P then David said "There's the odd person" and something about if someone hadn't gotten the memo before turning up...but not sure how he ended the line. Then once again says that yes, there's the odd person who doesn't like it and that's fair enough.

The same audience member then said he could see the advantage of it in a big theatre where the distance is big, but not in a small place like the Donmar - to which David very quickly, rather passionately replied that it's not about projection, it's about being able to do things you wouldn't normally be able to do live - where they can speak so quietly that they can't even hear each other when standing next to each other. So even in such a small place, people wouldn't be able to hear that. It's about creating a different play - which isn't to everyone's taste and that's fair enough. But for a play that's been done a hundred and seven million times he thinks it's very valid to try and find a new way into the play - even if it's not for everyone.

Part 2

[gentlekalita]

Are you a submissive? Find it out

🌟 How Can I Know If I’m a Submissive? 🌟

Hey there, my lovely friends! It’s your Gentle Domme Kalita, and today, I want to chat about a question that I know many of you have been wondering about: “How can I know if I’m a submissive?” I get it; navigating these feelings can be both exciting and a little confusing. So let’s take a cozy dive into this together!

Understanding Submission

First things first—submission isn’t just about giving up control; it’s about really connecting with your desires and exploring that wild side of yourself. It’s all about that spark of excitement when you think about trusting someone else to take the lead. So, how do you figure out if that’s you? Well, here are some thoughts:

1. Self-Reflection

Let’s start with some good old-fashioned self-reflection. Grab a journal—or even just a cozy spot to think—and ask yourself:

Do you ever daydream about scenarios where you’re being guided or cared for?

How does the idea of giving over control make you feel?

What kind of fantasies do you find yourself daydreaming about?

Writing down your thoughts can be super helpful. Just let your mind flow and see what pops up. You might be surprised at what you discover about yourself!

2. Exploring Fantasies

Your fantasies are like little clues to your desires:

Do you find yourself drawn to the idea of being restrained or directed by someone confident?

What roles do you fantasize about—do you enjoy the thought of surrendering or being gently teased?

It’s totally okay to get lost in these thoughts; fantasy can be such a safe way to explore your feelings without any pressure. Enjoying those little daydreams can be a real thrill!

3. Emotional Response

Pay attention to how you feel in different situations:

When someone takes charge, how does that make you feel? Does it spark excitement or maybe a little nervousness?

Are you drawn to the idea of nurturing or being nurtured, of giving and receiving care in a unique way?

Just tune in to those feelings; they can be so telling about what you might enjoy.

4. Interest in BDSM Dynamics

You might find that you have a natural curiosity about BDSM culture.

Are you intrigued by the idea of exploring power dynamics in a consensual way?

Do you appreciate the intimacy and trust involved in these types of relationships?

Gentle femdom, especially, is all about that tenderness mixed with a bit of power. If that sounds appealing, you might want to explore it further!

5. Engaging with the Community

Getting involved with a community can really help clarify your feelings:

Try attending discussions or workshops focused on BDSM and submission. Connecting with others and hearing their stories can be enlightening!

Follow blogs or platforms that resonate with you—like mine! Engaging with these communities can help you feel less alone on this journey.

6. Trial and Experience

Sometimes the best way to know is to just jump in and experience it:

Consider exploring your submission in safe, enjoyable ways. Maybe start with light role play or engage with a trusted partner.

Just make sure you’ve got safe words and boundaries established. Your comfort and safety are everything!

7. Understanding Boundaries

Remember, submission doesn’t mean you lose your individuality or say goodbye to what makes you comfortable. Understanding your boundaries is crucial!

Reflect on what you could see yourself trying and what is definitely off the table for you.

Knowing your limits and being able to communicate them is actually a huge part of establishing a healthy dynamic.

Embrace Your Journey

Ultimately, exploring your submission should feel like a liberating adventure. If you’re finding that these questions resonate, you might just be discovering something amazing about yourself!

Join Me!

Ready to explore your desires in a warm and welcoming space? I would absolutely love to have you join me for my next camming session! Let’s dive into fantasies together and see what gentle domination feels like for you. Check my bio~

[writingjourney]

oh now you have me thinking about grumpy Primo taking out his displeasures, consensually of course, on a reader. He might be old but that doesn’t mean he can’t be rough

i mean, we've seen him move on stage and read the interviews so he's definitely got the vigour and horny spirits – even if he might regret it in the morning when all of his joints yell at him to stop. (uh yes mild NSFW ahead).

If anything the adrenaline rush of a good cussing session with a plethora of very creative italian profanities echoing between the walls of his little domain will make him forget about that knee pain he had earlier. Someone asks him YET again for flowers for a paramour or tries to coax him into attending any sort of clergy event he really does not want to go to and he might be inclined to bend you right over his desk or flower bed or any available surface to add your screams of pleasure into the mix. I imagine people can hear when those curses turn from annoyed to horny lmao and know not to come too close again. And you'd be surprised about the strength he still has in his body when he grips your hips with his boney fingers and repeatedly drives himself into you. More than likely you have to rub some pain ointment onto his joints and get the heating pad in the evening, not just for him but for yourself as well when you feel the soreness and aches of a really good fuck in the greenhouse/workshop/office what have you.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hello it's last anon thank you for letting me give a prompt

So I really liked your pairing of LQR/WRH/Lao Nie and after seeing wwx's parents in the last episode of the donghua it got me thinking, How about WRH/WCZ/CSSR? WRH maybe saves them in yiling and they end up hitting it off (WRH might do it in the beginning just spite jfm by stealing his former best friend and crush) and the Wei family settles in nightless city, wwx grows up with the Wen heirs and wen Qing and wen Ning and that affects the events of Canon

(I wouldn't mind smut tbh if you want to include it, they're all hotties lol)

Thank you so much for letting me send a prompt 🙏😭❤️

ao3

“I don’t suppose you can help with this,” Wen Ruohan said to Lan Qiren, who had the unmitigated gall to look amused at him, as if he’d brought this disaster down on his own head or something like that. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends with that awful -”

“Cangse Sanren and I are indeed good friends,” Lan Qiren said peaceably and tonelessly, possibly just because he was trying to annoy Wen Ruohan to death. “I am therefore very familiar with the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop her from proceeding precisely as she wishes.”

That was not what Wen Ruohan wanted to hear.

“You’re her friend,” he said, deciding to focus on the important part. “Take her away.”

“You’re the sect leader of the Nightless City,” Lan Qiren rebutted. “Order her to leave.”

Wen Ruohan couldn’t do that.

Well, he could. By all rights, he ought to have done it a month ago, when Cangse Sanren had first marched into the Fire Palace and said, “Oh, this will work perfectly! I love it, you’re so thoughtful!” and started rearranging the entire place into some sort of workshop for herself, possibly involving grain storage. He’d meant to, but he’d been a bit distracted at the time – Wei Changze had wanted to know what all the machines did, and he’d had an endless number of clever ideas on how some of them could be repurposed for things other than torture, some of which had been really very intriguing.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if Wen Ruohan had time to attend torture sessions any more, not with three loudly yelling children running around all the time. Wei Wuxian might be the youngest of the lot, with both Wen Xu and Wen Chao as his elders, but he’d managed in a very short amount of time to make himself the undoubted leader of the pack and spoiled beloved youngest all at the same time. There had even been avid discussions about how they would need to bring other children over to visit in order to better socialize the children. He’d already summoned some cousins over, Wen Qing and Wen Ning, which meant that soon there would be even more children…

It was a headache, really.

Absolutely.

Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren were driving him up the wall.

They were also regular visitors in his bed, something that would very likely rapidly stop being the case if he actually kicked them out of the Nightless City.

“This one’s on you, Hanhan,” Lao Nie put in, grinning wildly at him. Now there was one that was completely unmoved by the news of Wen Ruohan’s new relationship – everyone else had reacted, whether by Jiang Fengmian’s profound embarrassment, raging jealousy, and quiet fury, Jin Guangshan very obviously trying to calculate some way of using this to his advantage, and Lan Qiren immediately going over to question his friends’ sanity – and that was pretty annoying in its own way. After all, Wen Ruohan had really only invited the two rogue cultivators into his bed in the first place as a matter of spite, a way of excising his rage when he’d heard the rumors about Lao Nie potentially taking on a third wife.

He hadn’t expected them to stay.

He hadn’t expected to want them to stay.

Which he didn’t! They were a mess, each one worse than the next – Cangse Sanren was barely human most days, like some sort of feral demonic beast that had accidentally achieved human form and continuously forgot (thanks to her prodigiously bad memory) that she was supposed to be pretending to be normal, and Wei Changze was remarkably similar to Lao Nie in the sense that he’d never taken anything seriously in his life, except for the fact that his humor was lighthearted and unleavened by the hints of trauma and tragedy that lurked behind Lao Nie’s unbridled hedonism. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t let slide off his shoulders, forgetting a beating as soon as it was over…Wei Changze might be a lot less vicious than Lao Nie was, but he was reckless to the extreme, in a way that made absolutely no sense. Wasn’t he supposed to be a servant? What was he doing rushing out into the field with a sword and smile and absolutely no advance planning whatsoever? Even Lao Nie wouldn’t do that!

Anyway, they were a handful.

They were maddening.

They were the most interesting thing that had happened to Wen Ruohan in years.

“Your input is not required,” Wen Ruohan informed Lao Nie, who shrugged expansively. “Unless you have something constructive to add.”

“No, no, nothing constructive, you know me, I’m not built for that…but I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Wen Ruohan stopped where he was.

“I’m not right for you,” Lao Nie said, and even though he was still smiling, same as always, there was something sharp in his eyes – the same sharpness that had caught Wen Ruohan’s interest in the first place, like a beautiful dagger that you longed to touch even though you knew its biting edge might cut. “You know, I know, even Qiren knows it…you’re happy now, and that’s good. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Wen Ruohan wanted to say something.

Preferably something cutting, something about how it was too late for Lao Nie to regret – except he didn’t think Lao Nie did regret, because Lao Nie did not live a life of regret. Lao Nie had enjoyed their time together, had been as sincere and true as he was made to be and no further. But, and maybe it was because he’d never expected to keep Wen Ruohan for very long in the first place, he’d felt little sorrow at it ending, instead feeling nothing but joy on Wen Ruohan’s behalf at seeing him happy, even if it was with another.

Wen Ruohan didn’t understand that. He’d always loved too fiercely, too well; he’d always yearned to keep that which he cared for close to him, nearby, somewhere he could protect them and keep them.

Even Lao Nie…Wen Ruohan had been enticed by Lao Nie’s ruthlessness, his bloodthirstiness, his Nie sect temper tempered with a nasty sort of cunning that had made him remarkably successful at expanding his sect’s reach in the north, and he’d been flattered at how persistent the other man was in pursuing him. It was only later, when he’d gotten used to having him around, that he had started to feel jealous…

“They’ll be good for you,” Lao Nie said. His eye twinkled. “You could use a bit of chaos in your life.”

Wen Ruohan shook his head. “I’m trying to get rid of them,” he protested, but even he didn’t believe what he was saying. “They’re a menace. Especially Cangse Sanren – do you know that she’s literally doomed? I swear, I spend all my trying keeping her from getting herself killed…”

“Don’t you enjoy defying the heavens?” Lan Qiren asked, rolling his eyes as if Wen Ruohan were missing something obvious. “I would have thought that someone carting around a heaven-sent calamity would be a perk for someone like you.”

…it rather was, wasn’t it?

“Whatever. Fine. Leave it, I’ll figure it out myself,” Wen Ruohan grumbled, then turned his narrowed eyes on the two of them. “Now for something you can help with: My children need more socialization or else they’ll genuinely think Wei Wuxian is a good example of other children. Sect Leader Lan – you’re a teacher, aren’t you…?”

“Well, yes. But –”

“What a wonderful idea!” Lao Nie clapped his hands together. “I can send my two boys to Qiren to teach, too! And we can definitely bully Fengmian and Guangshan into sending theirs. It’ll be…oh, I don’t know. A regular summer excursion!”

“In my sect?” Lan Qiren asked, arching his eyebrows. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a teacher, of course. Anyway, are you saying you don’t want Cangse Sanren to crash at your place for a few months..?”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Wen Ruohan said at once. When both of them smirked at him, he scowled. “Even if I wanted her too, she’s not. It was a statement of fact, nothing more.”

“Then perhaps we should all come visit the Nightless City instead,” Lao Nie said. “It could be like a miniature discussion conference, except limited to the Great Sects – we could go night-hunting and such while Qiren teaches the children.”

Was Lao Nie proposing an orgy? He’d better not be proposing an orgy, not if he genuinely intended to invite Jiang Fengmian and his wife or Jin Guangshan and his to attend…

“Of course, if it’s focused on the children, maybe the adults aren’t entirely necessary to invite – well, except for you, as the host, Qiren as the teacher, and me as the person who came up with the idea…”

Lao Nie was definitely proposing an orgy.

“…I’ll see what Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze have to say about it,” Wen Ruohan allowed. But only because he thought that it was something they would very much like, and he’d been completely out of ideas on what he could get a couple as notoriously disinterested in material goods as a courting gift – he hated not being capable, that’s all it was. There was no other reason than that! “We’ll see.”

“Did I agree to this?” Lan Qiren asked, frowning. “When did I agree to this –”

“You can’t say no,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’ll set Cangse Sanren on you if you do.”

“…I see that I’ve agreed to this.”

Lao Nie laughed, Lan Qiren sighed, and Wen Ruohan…

Wen Ruohan resigned himself to keeping Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze around a little longer.

Just a little.

[ya-zz]

Hi, I am back. Work be killing me, but I’m here to kill everyone else.

Ramattra and reader.

Similar to one of your personal pieces where reader has to repair him, but they mess up somewhere and his memory is corrupted of them so he hates reader, despite them fixing him.

I will personally send you a curveball to put in there too.

You’re welcome. Enjoy.

Yikes, you're back-

Fr tho, this was fun, but not because I didn't have to write some of it- Alternate ending vibes.

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1707 (1243 newly written)

A/N: I was told to use part of a personal fic for this. It's like an alternate ending so to speak.

Read the original here

You had no idea how much time had passed before Angela had let you go. Hanzo walked with you to the workshop to make sure you were truly okay before leaving you for a training session with Genji.

Upon entering, you are met with what you had left. Ramattra was still standing there with no power. Some dust had begun to settle on his chassis so you made quick and gentle work of brushing it off.

Checking the monitor, all tests had come back green. All was good. You direct the current through again.

Orange.

Red.

Switched off.

You scream. Like actually scream, throwing a piece of scrap metal at the wall.

"Three weeks of work for nothing!" Tears stream down your face as you keep running the current but was getting nowhere. "Fuck, what the actual hell am I supposed to do..."

Omnics didn't come with an on button.

…

Wait…

You rummage through the spare parts, a small piece rattled at the bottom of the box. Despite feeling somewhat relieved you missed something, you were utterly pissed off with yourself for actually missing something.

Pondering for a moment, you realise where this piece belongs. A small hole underneath his back plate, hidden among cables and wires.

Sonofabitch…

After about another hour of fucking about with everything in his back, you had the piece inserted and flipped up.

Reassembling his back, you head over to direct a current.

Orange.

Red.

Blue.

You could hear hissing which meant his fans were working. A small digital noise escapes from the omnic as his arms twitch, head tilting to the side.

You stand there, body frozen.

"Ramattra?"

His head tilts back up, now directly facing you.

Nothing was said for a moment. The two of you just staring at each other.

“I demand you release me.” He says and his tone was serious. 

“I have some final checks to do before I can let you go-” You attempt to explain. 

“My systems have come back intact.” He states. “Release me this instant.” 

You stare at him blankly. He was never this rude to you before, what has gotten- 

“Oh no…” You mutter, rushing over to the computer to run a quick file check.

“Human!” He rattles against the wires and restraints he was bound by. 

The panic and fear rise within your body as you look at the screen. 

[ MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED ]

“Why…?” Tears prick your eyes as you stare at the computer screen. You ignore the shouting coming from behind you as you run diagnostics, trying to find out why and how it got corrupted, why is it only the memory file that is corrupted? 

Everything else was intact. His HUD settings, system files and drives were all working perfectly. 

Something shattered on the floor which startled you, causing you to turn and face Ramattra. He was approaching, and fast. The stark white faceplate you had grown to love looked menacing, intimidating as he took quick and calculated steps towards you. 

Then your stomach drops. You were cornered. The only escape was behind him and you didn’t take a liking to jumping out of the window… and the delivery shaft was on the ground floor. Perfect.

“There is no escape, human.” His hand grabs you by the throat, squeezing tightly. “What did you do to me?” 

Your hands grab and scratch at his arm. “Let- Let go of me.” Through struggled breaths, you speak to him, tone calm and hopeful, hopeful that he will let go. 

“What-” his grip got tighter, “did you do to me?” 

“Nothing, I swear-” 

“Where am I?” He glares at you, optics looking down at you, watching the panic rise, the heat in your face getting higher as the blood burns inside. 

“My workshop.” Tension was building quickly in your head and your chest was getting tighter as you continue to struggle for air. “Please-”

His grip loosens slightly, enough for you to gasp and choke but he doesn’t let you go. “Pitiful.” He spits. 

“Ramattra, please-” Attempt one. He has to remember. 

He cocks his head to the side as he processes your words before he hums. “How do you know my name?”

System settings were intact.

You stare at him, hands dropping from his arm. “What… What do you remember?” With that question, you hear his fans pick up speed, a little noisier than you remember. 

“Shambali. My brothers. Brother Mondatta and Zenyatta.” He halts, servos twitching on your neck. “Where are they?” 

“Zenyatta is here.”

“Brother Mondatta?”

“Mondatta…” You trail off. It had been several years since Mondatta’s assassination. You feel his hand squeeze. “Mondatta was killed a few years ago.” 

Ramattra freezes. “That cannot be right.” 

“I’m sorry, Ramattra.” You look up at him with sympathy. 

Something clicks within his system, his hand tensing without him commanding it to. His vocaliser stutters with static and his optics going in an aperture frenzy. The grip on your throat tightens to the point you feel something snap, and pain shoots up. 

Blood pools in your mouth, dripping down onto his hand. 

Your gargled noises and attempts to free yourself break Ramattra free of his system glitch and he drops you immediately. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud as you cough up the blood that had seeped into your lungs. 

Despite the pain you were in, you manage to sit up, sitting with your back resting on the filing cabinet. 

Ramattra kneels down, head tilting to the side as he examines you. He sees the panic within your eyes and almost feels bad. 

“Are you certain brother Mondatta is dead?” 

You nod, not being able to speak. 

“Do you know who killed him?” 

You shake your head. 

Ramattra watches you, looking for any signs that you might be lying. When met with truthful answers, he looks down as his systems work overtime. 

“I-” He starts before looking back up. “I am sorry for what I have done to you. May I?” He reaches his hand forward, noticing how you flinch back. Ramattra stops for a moment before reaching further, fingertips touching your bruising neck. 

“I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I cannot place you.” He tilts his head up, looking at the computer screen and seeing his system. He notices the corrupted file is slowly repairing, which means that the task he set off within his own system is slowly working on it. 

He watches as your eyes dart around, from him to behind him, to the left and right of him. The panic was still high, body still shaking. Systems show that you’re bleeding, a crushed throat but it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Ramattra stays silent as he watches you, yet without his cowl and… ‘clothing’, he looks like the standard R-7000 unit. He is intimidating, even more so as he watches you without any movement or sound. 

When the computer pings, you don’t move and keep your focus on the omnic who was still kneeling in front of you. 

“Unfortunately, it seems part of my memory file is corrupted.” He finally speaks. “I remember everything, but I still cannot place you.” 

You smile weakly, tilting your head to the side a little and wincing. “Its… Okay.” you manage to say through the pain. 

Before Ramattra had a chance to respond, the door to the workshop slams open, Angela and Zenyatta rushing in. 

“Athena made a distress call.” Angela rushes over to you and gasps at your condition. 

“They are fine.” Ramattra states. 

“Brother?” Zenyatta appears behind him which causes the larger omnic to stand and face him. “What happened?” 

Ramattra stutters, looking back down at you with  heavy feeling in his chest. “I hurt them.” 

The room fell silent. 

“What?” Angela looks up at the taller omnic. 

“My system went on the fritz and I crushed their throat.” 

“Your system doesn’t just go on the ‘fritz.’” The medic turns her attention back to you, gently turning your head to face her. “Look at me, [y/n].” 

“Accident…” You mumble, only to be hushed. 

Ramattra looks down at the floor before turning his attention to the monk. 

“I am sure it was.” Zenyatta speaks up. “Brother Ramattra would not hurt you, [y/n].” 

“[y/n]...” Ramattra repeats your name, looking off to the side. “[y/n]...” 

“Brother?” The monk looks up. 

“I do not know a [y/n].” Ramattra says but then he looks back to you. “I still cannot place you.” 

You smile at him. 

“[y/n]... Such a unique name.” He kneels back down and offers a hand to you. 

You could feel the medics eyes on you as you reach up and take his hand. 

“Allow me to make up for the damages I have caused.”

He doesn’t say, but there was a transmission that played within his system.

[ Memory: Repair log, day 10 ]

"Despite you being a pain in the ass sometimes, you're alright. Fuck, you should've seen how heartbroken Zen was. It hurt me too, you know. If this doesn't work, I will never forgive myself. I don't think Zen will ever get over it either... If you're listening, Ramattra, please wake up... I don't think you understand that you have people here who actually want you back, and not for your strength. I'll miss you if this don't work. I'll miss seeing that damn face of yours and your snarky comments." You laugh. "You always made me smile. Even that day you came in with Zen. You didn't see but when you left I was super happy you trusted me. It was the very first time you let a human touch you. I heard from your brother you hadn't even let any other human touch you before I did…

Hey, Ramattra... you're welcome here anytime. Even if it's just to talk."

Between the glitches and static, the voice matched yours and the hatred he had felt for you when he turned on in that workshop had subsided. 

Ramattra may not remember you, but he was ready to fix his mistake and make new memories with you, ones where he would remember you, ones where he would protect the files from never being corrupted again. 

[moonmeg]

Hi!! I Love Love Looove! tdaac! Thank you so much for making it!

I have a lil question, I’ve become quite attached to Silvia and Andrew, do you have any stories on how they met? i love them! They’re absolutely adorable!

Thank you again!💛

They frequently saw each other (or at least Andrew saw her) at the market. Silvia was always at her mothers' stand helping out. They didn't talk much though because Andy was too nervous because Silvia had so many other admirers and it was no secret she had them.

(Art from an instagram Q&A session last year!)

He did try wooing her every now and then and Silvia actually liked that he did but Andy was a bit clumsy and awkward every time he attempted to flirt with her, which made him believe he's lost any chances with her.

Little did he know Silvia actually found it all endearing and cute. However, Andy was pretty much discouraged :(

They kept seeing each other at the market but Andrew did all he could to avoid her. It wasn't until she visited the workshop commissioning a carving from Andrew specifically that they talked again. Or rather, Silvia tried to maintain a conversation while Andrew was still much embarrassed. She kept visiting again and again for weeks.

"I must say, Andrew, I am quite disappointed."

"Oh? Oh, I'm sorry, if you don't like something about the carving I can-"

"The carving's not the problem. You are."

"Me? Why?"

"I thought you'd ask me out by now. I'm coming here almost daily waiting for you to flirt with me again and ask me to go on a tryst. I'm getting quite impatient."

(bright red) "Huh???"

"Oh, well, guess I have to do it myself then. Andrew Clawthorne, would you go on a tryst with me?"

"You?? And me?? On a date??? Y-you mean that seriously?"

"Meet me at the fountain this evening. 6 o' clock. I'll be waiting there. But you better not leave me waiting there for long."

And well, the rest of the story writes itself 🤍

Thank you so much for your kind words, it means so much to me! I'm also so happy to hear Andrew and Silvia grew onto you 🥺

[howlsofbloodhounds]

More headcanons because why not:

Because of the fact that Delta and Color both have human souls possessing them, I think that they would both be able to see, hear, summon and interact with other ghosts/apparitions/spirits.

They can see if another ghost appears or leaves, which can be especially interesting when they both find out that they're seeing the same thing.

(I also think that since it's a common idea that animals can sense ghosts/apparitions/entities, Zorox would also be able to see the ghost. Which means Epic is the only one who can't see it.)

Basically I can imagine the conversation of them (and poor Epic) learning that they can see ghosts would go like Delta getting incredibly tense, standing up and putting himself in front of his friends to protect them and asking, "Zorox, who's that? Door?" And Zorox looks and IMMEDIATELY starts growling and freaking out. Delta summons A GB and demands it to leave. Color runs to the kitchen to grab a weapon bc he can see it and DOES NOT like what he sees. Epic immediately Googles if it's possible for 2 people to share the same hallucination because he can't see it.

I also think that because they can see ghosts, Delta LOVES going to abandoned/haunted locations and learning about the ghosts there. Might try to free a few. Is willing to tolerate demons if necessary. Color and Epic do not like it but go to support them (and also make sure that the ghosts/entities don't take it too far)

When doing a session or using equipment, such as RemPod, Estes Method, voice recorder, Xcam SLS, etc., Delta would know everything about it and exactly how to use it. But the Estes Method is terrifying because to make it successful, the person doing it must be blindfolded, wearing sound proof headphones. They will allow the spirit to talk through them and answer questions that other members have. This is especially terrifying when Delta does it because he will try to mimic how the person sounds in his head.

Let's say a ghost child is trying to speak through him. Delta will make his voice sound exactly like how that child sounds. If the child laughs, screams, anything, Delta will mimic it almost perfectly.

Color, however, avoids it as much as possible because it freaks him out. He's willing to talk with another ghost, but the minute a demon appears, he's gone.

Epic thinks it's incredibly interesting. Terrifying, but definetly interesting, since he can't see or hear them. But he will not fuck with the ghosts.

(If you'd like to know more about ghost hunting things, I'd suggest watching Sam and Colby and Exploring With Josh)

That’s dope asf. Like imagine Delta piecing together and building his own ghost hunting equipment from like scraps and parts he had left over in his workshop.

And while Delta is deep into it and Color’s like “don’t be led into temptation man,” Epic’s more like “hey there demons. It’s me. Ya boi,” and “goatman, I’m dancing on your bridge, it’s my bridge now!”

And think while Delta & Beta are doing their thing and Epic is trying to keep the mood light and airy, Color’s actually documenting the place with his camera and chilling with Zorox who does NOT like it, either. And like maybe because Color’s camera equipment was also made by Delta, he catches glimpses of the spirits/ghosts/demons/entities in his photographs.

I like the idea of the Epic Sanses just going ghost hunting in their free time, like the Scooby Doo Gang but actual ghosts.

I also actually had a Delta & Beta HC scheduled for 5 AM, but now that I got this ask I’m wondering if I should just post it now or not. It’s about like outfits & stuff.

(And also I love when people talk to me abt their hcs, especially abt the Epic Sanses pls keep doing that 🙏)

[murdersinthemaking]

There are rats.

There are rats in the dark. Ace can hear them, and worst of all, he can feel them when it's dark and he's sleeping, waking up to teeth digging into his skin. Murdock had been very upset at the screams.

The basement doesn't have much in it, not at first glance. A lot of trash, bits and pieces from what had certainly once been the workshop of the previous owners.

Ace doesn't need much to work. He just needs the bare minimum, and anything he wants, he can make. Careful, always, to return to his bed if he hears footsteps, and to hide his makeshift tools in the trash. He doesn't use them to free himself: the idea doesn't even come to mind. He just wants the rats to stop.

The sound of the door startles him, heart beginning its desperate race in his chest as he shoves the prototype trap under some cardboard and crawls over to the bed. Every time his captor visits him, Ace feels fear spike in his brain, but also, inexplicably, relief. He doesn't like being alone in the basement for so long.

Looking down at his legs, he waits.

With Ace hidden in the basement, he needs another project to work on between his time with prisoner. A thrill kill, which was what he spent last night on. No food brought down to his little angel, not when he had the most infuriating time murdering. Only a few kitchen knives and a hammer was what Murdock was working with. Nothing exciting and almost boring. Torture devices, stretching these hour long sessions into possible days.

Perhaps his prisoner can provide some inspiration.

Murdock barges downstairs, throwing open the door and storming onto the prisoners bed. “Good, you’re waiting. Now angel, you’ve been making so much fucking noise that I’m not liking. So how about we fix that, huh?” Kicking around some of the scrap lying on the floor, he finds one of the makeshift tools stowed away. But he doesn’t recognize it as new. “Angel, how about you tell me where this should go?”

[androgynealienfemme]

"The main justification for invalidating butch-femme is that its an imitation of heterosexual roles and, therefore, not a genuine lesbian model. One is tempted to react by saying "So what?" but the charge encompasses more than betrayal of an assumed fixed and "true" lesbian culture. Implicit in the accusation is the denial of cultural agency to lesbians, of the ability to shape and reshape symbols into new meanings of identification. Plagiarism, as the adage goes, is basic to all culture.

In the real of cultural identity, that some of the markers of a minority culture's boundaries originate in an oppressing culture is neither unusual nor particularly significant. For instance, in the United States certain kind of bead- and ribbon work are immediately recogniziable as specific to Native American cultures, wherein they serve artistic and ceremonial functions. Yet beads, trinkets, ribbons, and even certain "indian" blanket patterns were brought by Europeans, who traded them as cheap goods for land. No one argues that Indians out to give up beadwork or blanket weaving, thus ridding themselves of the oppressors symbols, because those things took on a radically different cultural meaning in the hands of Native Americans. Or consider Yiddish, one of the jewish languages. Although Yiddish is written in Hebrew characters and has its own idioms and nuances, its vocabulary is predominantly German. Those who speak German can understand Yiddish. Genocidal Germanic anti-Semitism dates back to at least the eleventh century. Yet East European Jews spoke "the oppressors language," developing in it a distinctive literary and theatrical tradition. Why is it so inconceivable that lesbians could take elements of heterosexual sex roles and remake them?

*

It is June 1987, and I am sitting in a workshop on "Lesbians and Gender Roles" at the annual National Women's Studies Conference. It is one of surprisingly few workshops on lesbian issues, particularly since, at a plenary session two mornings later, two thirds of the conference attendees will stand up as lesbians. Meanwhile, in this workshop the first speaker is spending half an hour on what she calls "Feminism 101," a description of heterosexual sex roles. Her point in doing this, she says, is to remind us of the origin of roles, "which are called butch and femme when lesbians engage in them." She tells us the purpose of her talk will be to prove, from her own experience, that "these roles are not fulfilling" for lesbians. She tells us that the second speaker will use lesbian novels from the 1950s to demonstrate the same thesis. And, indeed, the second speaker has a small stack of 1950s "pulp paperbacks" with her, many of them the titles that, when I discovered them in the mind-1970s, resonated for me in a way that the feminist books published by Daughters and Diana Press did not.

I consider for several minutes. I'm well versed in lesbian literature, particularly in the fifties novels, and don't doubt my ability to adequately argue an opposing view with the second presenter. I am curious to see if she will use the publisher-imposed "unhappy ending" to prove that roles make for misery. I also decide I'm willing to offer my own experience to challenge the first presenters conclusions- though I'd much rather sit with her over coffee and talk. She is in her midforties and, although she claims to have renounced it, still looks butch. Even if she speaks of roles negatively, she has been there and I want to hear her story. Then I look around me. Everyone is under thirty. There are a few vaguely butch-looking women present who'd very likely consider themselves to be as androgynous as everyone else, and not a single, even remotely femme-looking women besides myself. I recall Alice Walker's advice to "never be the only one in the room." Quietly, I get up and walk out. I go to no other lesbian presentations at the conference."

“Recollecting History, Renaming Lives: Femme Stigma and the feminist seventies and eighties" by Lyndall MacCowan, The Persistent Desire, (edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)

[fookinavocadosman]

episode 2: jealousy jealousy {HS}

y/n and harry grow closer after their second night but will something or someone completely derail their progress?

warnings: drama. literally this whole chapter is just drama.

word count: 3.3k

A few days have passed since Harry and I’s rule break and no one has found out. The day after it happened I was on edge all day waiting for Lana to call Harry and me out but instead, she called out Riley and Niall who just so happened to have been doing naughty stuff around the same time as us but they were more obvious about it getting caught. 

Thank God we didn’t get caught though because Niall’s handjob and kiss cost the group $7000. Since then the rules have been broken more and more and the prize fund now stands at $82,000. 

Liam got caught jacking off, Kate and Zayn had a make-out session, and lastly, Harry dared Louis and Niall to kiss losing us another 3k. In the past 5 days we have lost a total of $15,000, and some people aren’t too happy. And by some people, I mean Harry and I. 

Harry and I have been really good about not breaking the rules. It’s been really fucking difficult but we haven’t broken the rules since that second night. Harry and I have also been getting closer to each other since we talked after that second night. 

The light is bright as I wake up, my eyes fluttering open to see Harry already looking at me. At some point during the night I had turned around in his hold and my hands lay lightly on his naked chest right below his sparrow tattoos. 

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” He asks me, his voice raspy from not being used. I hum stretching my legs slightly as I take in a deep breath, his scent engulfing me. 

“Good, how about you?” He chuckles brushing the hair that fell in front of my face to behind my ear. 

“Good, after I got everything under control.” He smirks at me and I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks burying my head into his chest. 

“Sorry about that.” I mumble into his chest and he chuckles again his chest vibrating against my forehead. 

“Nothing to be sorry about babe, I did it to myself.” His hand brushes up and down my arm and we lay in a comfortable silence until I lift my head looking up at him. I am about to say something but I peek my head up looking around to see everyone else in their own worlds and our microphones are on the table out of range to hear our conversation. I lean into Harry whispering. 

“I really did enjoy last night but we need to be careful, we can’t be breaking any more rules.” I pull my head back to look at his reaction. He smiles at me nodding his head in agreement. 

“Yeah, promise no more rule breaks.” He holds his pinky out to me and I smile wrapping my pinky around his. He kisses my forehead before getting out of bed and stretching. 

“Time to seize the day my lady.” He smiles at me, leaving me alone in bed.

Today is going to be interesting. We have a workshop today and everyone has been wondering about what it’s based on since Lana announced it to us before we got ready this morning. When we are all finished getting ready we head down to the grassy area and see a woman in a blue jumpsuit waiting for us. There are platforms with what looks to be a thin mattress and ropes on top of it and everyone looks confused. 

We all get in line to say hello to the woman and we learn her name is Nicole while she directs us to stand with our partners. I thankfully get placed with Harry while Louis and Ava get placed to the left of us and Zayn and Sage get placed to the right of us. The other pairs are Riley and Niall, and Liam and Kate. We all stand on the platforms as Nicole explains to us what we are doing today. 

We are doing Shibari which she says is to improve intimacy and trust in relationships. Harry leans down picking up the rope, unraveling it, and playing with it. I observe his hands as he plays with the rope wrapping it around his hands before stopping and doing it all over again. I feel a tingle run through me as I watch him but I shake my head stopping the thoughts running through my mind. 

I focus back on Nicole as she explains what she wants us to do. She wants someone to be the one being tied up and the other doing the tying. Harry looks at me asking which one I want to be but I shrug my shoulders. 

“Uh, I’ll get tied up since I don’t know how to do any of the tying.” I tell him and he raises his eyebrow at me while nodding. 

“You’ve never tied anyone up before?” He asks me and I shake my head. 

“No I’ve been tied up once but that was about it.” I explain to him and he nods coming to stand in front of me. 

“Alright, just let me know if you’re uncomfortable and I’ll stop.” He tells me looking at me with a serious look and I nod. 

“Good. Now put your hands in front of you, wrists together.” He orders me and I obey immediately holding my wrists out to him. He skillfully wraps the rope around my wrists making sure that they aren’t too tight on me but also aren’t loose. He has me tug it a few times before smiling in satisfaction. He drops the rope and moves around behind me his chest pressing against my back. 

“Back straight, chin up.” he whispers in my ear as he reaches around to my front pulling the ropes to my back. He takes the ropes bringing one side over the opposite shoulder making an x form across my chest with my hands being raised to sit right on my sternum. He walks back around admiring his work smirking when he makes eye contact with me. 

“You’re breathing’s a bit heavy. You okay?” He teases me and I dry swallow nodding my head. “Yeah. Yup. Everythings a okay.” I say though it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself. I shuffle a bit on my feet as Harry continues to eye fuck me. He steps forward undoing the knots and freeing me letting me move my hands around a bit. 

I look around seeing some being hog-tied, others are keeping it simple by just tying their partner’s hands in front of their body, and then we have Zayn and Sage who are fighting and wanting nothing to do with each other while Nicole tries to reason with them. Harry hands the ropes to me and I grab them nervously. He kneels looking up at me before smiling. 

“Come on I’ll teach you.” He smiles motioning for me to kneel and I do so we're now on the same level. He instructs me on how to tie his wrists together correctly step by step. My eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as I bite my tongue while forming the knots. Every once in a while my eyes flit up to meet his as he talks, his voice deep and mellow causing a shiver to run through me each time. When I finally finish I observe my work smiling. 

“I did it.” I smile up at him and he sends me a soft smile. 

“You did.” He whispers. We observe each other sitting silently and taking in the moment before we’re snapped out of it by laughs. I look around to see Louis has hog-tied Ava and is holding her up by the ropes like a duffle bag. Everyone is laughing and I turn back to Harry seeing a dimple pop out. 

“I didn’t know you had a dimple.” I say and he turns towards me smiling again. 

“Uh yeah, it only pops out every once in a while.” He smiles at me the dimple still prominent. The workshop comes to a close and everyone seems to have had a good time, except for Zayn and Sage. We all do our own things for the rest of the day before getting ready for the night. Before we can settle in for the night we get told we have to meet at the cabana so everyone begrudgingly heads down. Lana dings once we all settle in and I let out a sigh. 

“Hello.” She says and we all murmur our hellos before she continues. 

“There was a breach of the rules and money has been deducted from the prize fund.” She announces and everyone groans. 

“Who was it this time?” Kate asks everyone and we all look at each other not saying anything. I look at Harry worried that what we did has finally come out. 

“You have lost $3,000. The prize fund now stands at $79,000.” Lana announces and I let out a sigh of relief knowing that we weren’t found out. Everyone starts pointing fingers and defending themselves but no one is admitting to anything. After no one admitting anything, Kate leaves the group heading back to the house. 

We all sit in silence waiting for Lana to speak up but she doesn’t say anything more. I sigh getting up and leaving the cabana ready to go to bed. I change into comfy clothes and lay down closing my eyes to sleep. I stir slightly when Harry gets into bed but he quietly shushes me telling me to go back to sleep and I listen, escaping to my dreams. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today has been awful. Everyone has decided to have beef with someone today after last night’s announcement that two people broke the rules and I am getting annoyed. 

Liam and Sage have been pointing the finger at me and Harry and have been trying to get everyone else to turn on us. At this point, I just want whoever it was to reveal themselves because I’m getting to the point where I will smack the next bitch that points a finger at me. 

I head over to one of the chairs on the beach laying myself down to soak up the sun. I listen to the waves crash against the shore and take in the smell of the sea. 

“Hey Y/N!” I hear someone yell and I lift my head seeing Ava and Riley coming toward me. 

“Hey girls.” I smile at them and they sit down on the chairs next to me getting comfy. 

“Who do you guys think broke the rules?” Riley speaks up after a while of silence and I sigh. 

“I have no idea but I’m about ready to smack the next person that points their finger at me and Harry.” I tell them and they laugh. 

“I mean Liam was acting really suspicious when it came out but I just can’t think of who he’d kiss.” Ava brings up and I shrug. 

“It doesn’t matter the truth will come out soon.” I say and they hum in agreement. Throughout the day people bicker and argue while some relish in each other’s company. Eventually, Kate summons us all back to the cabana and once we're all gathered she speaks up. 

“We need to find out who broke the rules once and for all.” And everyone stays quiet, clearly not wanting to be here. 

“Come on the faster you admit it the faster we’re out of here.” She speaks up again and I let out a long sigh looking at Harry. 

“Fine, we are going to ask Lana.” Kate says and everyone agrees. 

“Lana.” Kate says making Lana ding. 

“Lana, was it Harry and Y/N who broke the rules?” She asks and there’s a long pause before Lana speaks. 

“Negative.” Harry and I nod our heads while everyone else cheers, glad that we weren’t the ones that broke the rules 

“Lana, was it Riley and Niall.” 

“Negative.” 

“Wow, I’m shocked.” I tease Riley and Niall causing both of them to flip me off laughing. Kate goes through all the “couples” but when Lana replies negative to all of them we’re back at square one. 

“For fucks sake who was it!” Harry yells out and Lana dings once more. 

“The two that broke the rules were.” She pauses for suspense making everyone nervous. 

“Liam and Sage.” She finally announces and the cabana breaks out into screams. 

“You fucker!” Zayn yells at Liam about to lunge at him when Louis pulls him back. 

“Oh come off of it Zayn! You made out with Kate! I was just getting back at you!” Sage puts Zayn in his place and he scoffs breaking out of Louis’s grip. He heads back inside and everyone is stunned into silence at the outburst. I lean closer to Harry before whispering. 

“Well if they weren’t over before they definitely are now.” Harry chuckles nodding his head before standing up. He pulls me up before ducking down and wrapping his arms around my legs hoisting me over his shoulder. I dangle upside down making everyone laugh as I scream at him to put me down. 

“Now if anyone would like to join us I’m going to the pool!” He announces picking up a light jog and I yell at him. He stops at the edge of the pool hoisting me into his arms and I shake my head at him. 

“I swear to god if you throw me into that pool I’m ending everything.” I tell him and he smiles wide. More screams are heard distracting me as Ava is hoisted over Niall’s shoulder while everyone else is walking leisurely. I look back towards Harry who has a sick smirk on his face and I know exactly what he’s thinking. 

“Harry no!” I scream as he throws me out of his arms my body colliding with the cool water of the pool. I push myself back up to the surface as another body is thrown next to me and I shake my head at Harry. 

“That’s it we're over!” I yell at him and he pouts his lips at me. 

“Don’t say that you’re going to break my heart.” He feigns being upset and I cross my arms not budging. 

“Fuck you!” I yell over Ava and Niall’s bickering. I turn my back to him facing the ocean when I hear a splash and arms wrap around me from behind. 

“I’m sorry baby. Please don’t end things.” He apologizes his voice serious and a smile breaks out across my face. He squeezes me harder when he sees the smile lining my face as he scoffs. 

“Oh fuck you had me worried there for a minute.” He nuzzles his head into my neck nipping at me and I let out a yelp. 

“Hey who’s that?” Liam yells and we turn around seeing a girl walking towards us. We get out of the pool and line up in a circle as the new girl comes towards us. 

“Hey!” She yells and we all yell back. Liam goes up to greet her first, hugging her and she eventually makes her way toward us. 

“Hey, I’m Brooke!” She says coming towards me and I wrap her in a hug. 

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” I smile at her breaking the hug and she goes right on next to Harry. 

“Hey.” She says eyeing him up and down and I cross my arms watching the interaction. She pulls Harry into a hug and he hugs her back as they murmur greetings. She eventually gets down the line before heading back to stand in front of everyone. 

“So what do you know about this?” Liam speaks up to her and she shrugs her shoulders. 

“I don’t really know anything.” She answers and everyone looks at each other shocked but also trying not to laugh. 

“Uh well, we have some rules to tell you.” Kate tells her and she nods. 

“First no kissing, no sexual touching, and no masturbation.” Kate says and Brooke’s jaw drops. 

“Oh what the fuck.” she says and we all laugh. Harry pulls me closer to him as I observe her. 

“The jealousy is radiating off you love.” He whispers in my ear and I scoff. 

“Fuck off I’m not jealous.” I mumble and he laughs. 

“Sure you aren’t.” He retaliates and I pull myself away from him. 

“I am not.” I keep defending myself but he doesn’t believe me. 

“We’ll see about that.” He remarks and I look at him but his attention is no longer focused on me, it’s on Brooke. We all eventually break away to get ready for the night party we were told was happening and I dress simply in a black bralette and black jean shorts. 

We all have a couple of drinks down at the beach socializing with Brooke. Her attention is focused on Harry for most of the night and he’s keeping his on her. If Harry wanted a rise out of me well he’s going to get one because I am pissed. He hasn’t been near me all night and I’m suffering. 

Eventually, the music playing turns sexual and people start grinding on each other, I’m left swaying my hips until someone comes up behind me placing their hands on my hips. I tilt my head up seeing Zayn and he asks me if what he’s doing is alright. I nod my head and continue the motion of my hips giving in to the music. I’m so caught up in the way we're moving that I fail to notice how Harry stares daggers at me. 

When I finally catch his eyes I smirk turning up the movement of my hips and trailing my hand up to grasp Zayn’s hair. I see him clench his jaw and I continue my teasing moves. Two can play this game. As the night winds down and everyone is ready for bed we disperse to the dressing room to get ready. I change into a blue baby doll dress with matching panties. 

I make my way to the bedroom ready to climb into bed with Harry but stop when I see another body laying next to him. Fucking Brooke. I let out a huff as I survey the room seeing an available spot next to Zayn. I smirk knowing exactly what to do. I walk over to his bed and he smiles seeing me. 

“Hey, can I join you tonight?” I ask him flipping my hair over my shoulder and he smirks. 

“Of course, you can.” He pats the free space next to him and I climb under the covers keeping a smile on my face. 

“Thanks for letting me in.” I say and he smiles shaking his head. 

“No problem at all.” I lay my head down sneaking a glance at Harry who I can tell is trying his absolute hardest not to burst at the seams. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Zayn asks me turning my attention towards him and I shrug my shoulders. 

“Nah why do you think that?” I ask him and he chuckles. 

“Well for one you’re in my bed tonight and you and Harry have barely left each other’s sides since the beginning.” He explains and I sigh. 

“He’s doing this to prove a point but I won’t give in to him that easily.” I tell Zayn and he nods. 

“Well, I am more than happy to help you win whatever war you two have decided to embark upon.” He smiles at me and I smile back. 

“Thanks.” I mumble and he shakes it off. “Now are you ready to make him want to murder me.” He smirks and I nod. 

“You betcha.” I agree and Zayn reaches his arm out pulling me to his chest. I get comfortable and Zayn laughs lightly making me laugh. 

“He looks like he’s about to jump out of that bed and kill me.” Zayn whispers and I giggle glancing at Harry. 

“This is going to be fun.” I mumble and I hear Zayn agree. 

“Oh, you have no idea.”

taglist: @golden-hoax @nikkisimps

[haggishlyhagging]

New cures demand new "diseases." Thus, in the last decades, we have seen the invention of gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia as well as chest dysphoria, which stands for "significant discomfort with the presence of [one's own] breasts."

The term "chest dysphoria" is a manifestation of another sign of therapeutic frameworks taking over our lives. Although it describes discomfort with the presence of female breasts, these are not mentioned. Such erasure is intentional, as women with "dysphoria," in other words those who would like to stop being female, often consider terms describing their secondary sex characteristics "triggering."

The word "trigger" is again a psychological term, which has been used to describe sensations, images, or experiences that prompt recall of a traumatic memory. Body dysphoria, as transgender ideologues periodically remind us, can lead to suicide. Thus, words describing women's body parts are made into triggers of guns, i.e., deadly weapons. So are different opinions. Consequently, trans-identified people often include trigger warnings before quoting ideas that are not 100 % aligned with their ideology.

The "triggerization" of discourse does not pertain only to the trans-identified world. Increasingly, it has been used by feminists to avoid dealing with unpleasant issues. To give an example from my life: in 2019, I was invited to lead a workshop at a Czech feminist conference. Before the event, I pondered devoting the session to the topic of fight against child pornography. However, the women organizers told me they found such a subject "too triggering."

I went along with this, as at the time I gave triggers greater importance than I do now. However, I was also angry. I thought: "who will stop child sexual exploitation when feminists are too fragile to even hear it mentioned?" Should we leave the fight to men who are most often the perpetrators? In fact, the reaction reminded me of the 19th century's trope of women fainting on couches when their nerves were stirred by shocking conversational topics. Mutilation therapy calls to mind another 19th century occurrence—the diagnosis of hysteria, treated by surgeons who removed healthy ovaries, uteri, and clitorises to relieve women of a nonexistent mental disorder.

-Dana Vitálošová, “Therapeutic Ideology as a Way of Bringing Women Back Two Hundred Years” in Spinning And Weaving: Radical Feminism for the 21st Century

[redheadspark]

9 dialog and 8 action for Jack Russell?

A/N - I would love to write this for Jack, thanks for requesting this, anon!

Tasty

Summary - Jack loved dressing up for Halloween, and he was rather good at it too

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

“Jack this might be too much for the trick or treaters?”

“Why do you say that, Amor?”

“Well, the blood for one thing,”

Jack looked down at his costume, seeing what he was wearing and looking back at you with a raised brow.  You could only smile at the sight, the small sounds of the neighborhood kids right outside your window at your home were flooding your living room as the classic movie “Wolf Man” was playing in the background on the screen.  

“It looks really realistic, Jack,” You said to him, seeing him chuckle as he shrugged and readjusted the collar on his massive cape.

“It’s because it is,” He explained, “I should know since I’ve handled a few in my lifetime and in my line of work.”

You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cape and the fake teeth in his mouth, “Vampire also wear capes?”

“Just the really old ones, they thought of it as traditional and very regal.  Especially the ones from Romania,” He informed in his matter-of-fact tone.

Jack loved Halloween, mostly because he was one of the monsters affiliated with the holiday.  It was such a shock for you to hear that he loved the holiday and didn’t mind they glorified monsters.  In fact, he would celebrate Halloween all day long if he could, and technically he did since he hunted monsters to make a living.  But still, that also came with him detailing all he knew about monsters.

“This isn’t accurate, Amor.  They don’t even eat like that in real life!”

“Honestly, if he was a real fairy, he would have ripped those limbs off instantly!”

“Zombies can go a bit faster, trust me.”

Now he was dressed up as a vampire, which seemed comical since he dealt with vampires the most in his hunting career and hated them all together.

“Should I be worried that you know how to replicate fake blood this well? I probably should be, right?” You asked, almost in a tease as Jack chuckled.  His Vampire attire is very accurate, according to him since he was portraying a vampire from the 18th century.  Not only did his costume look very precise, but so did the blood.  

His own creation no doubt.

Jack reached down to take a dollop of the fake blood that was on his cheek, smearing it on his finger before offering it to you with a smirk on his face.  You had to giggle, taking the dollop from his own finger to taste it.  You hummed, giving him a shocked look as he grinned.

“Had to make the stuff for years just to get the right monster into my trap,” he explained, “Mixture of jelly, and a hint of berries from my own stash in my workshop,”

“It’s good,” You complimented,  pausing as you said it as Jack laughed, “That sounded morbid.”

“No, it was perfect,” He replied, leaning over to peck you on the cheek as the doorbell rang.  You saw his face light up in excitement, rushing over to grab the trick-or-treat bowl prepped and ready by the hallway table.  

“Jack,” You said his name as he was about to open the door, “Remember, these are little kids.  Don’t try to scare them, okay?”

“What made you think I will?” He asked playfully as you gave him a knowing look.  He then opened the door, looking to see a handful of kids in their costumes with their bags out at the ready.  

“TRICK OR TREAT!” They said in unison, all of whom were looking at Jack with wide eyes and shocked faces.  You were wondering in the back of your mind if these kids were going to be scared of how Jack would appear to them.  Maybe they were going to scream and freak out, or run back to their parents who were waiting on the sidewalk.  Yet Jack still still, his smile on his face as a brave boy in an Astronaut costume spoke up with a big grin.   

“AWESOME!” He cheered.  And the rest of the night, your house became the big hit and Jack was a celebrity.  

The End

Halloween Prompt Session

[delsshitposts]

TIME FOR A BIAS NINTENDO DIRECT RUNDOWN! (Buckle up! This is a long post!)

God I wish I still got money on my birthday T-T

So how many speedrunners are going to dominate the leaderboards?

Instead of Tomodachi Life, Nintendo Switch Sports presents Ball Is Life

Another game to the "This Looks Kinda Neat" list

Looney Tunes also presents Ball Is Life!

Someone better tell the demon dogs

Why is the release schedule 3 then 1 and 2? Yeah, it doesn't affect anything but it fucks with me

Nintendo says "Play More Luigi's Mansion"! And I agree

I didn't know I wanted Metal Slug tower defense, BUT I DO!

Well my cousin is going to be happy

I can literally hear Maximillian DOOD freaking out

Time to test how many friends I can lose in one gaming session

I'm a Zelda simp so I'm going buy this on principle, but can we please call Zelda's weapon the "Tri Scepter" instead of "Tri Rod"

Capcom says "Play More Ace Attorney"! And I agree

The game looks nice, but the logo needs to be workshopped a bit more for readibility

"See! Metroid Prime 4 stills exists! We didn't cancel it!"