#miss gaslight gatekeep girlboss herself....

[transrevolutions]

it's a wound in the world

[missmisnomer]

Baby let's play a game 🖤💋 Watch me drive you insane 🕷️🕸️

[viivenn]

have you ever wondered what captain phasma looks like without her helm? perhaps i have an answer to your burning curiosity…

in this i’d like to also discuss some headcannons for miss phasma because cappie phazzie is just so… 🥰😍🙏✨✨

- the scar on her eye is both a cut and a burn. when she fell in all that fire the only spot unprotected by her armor was the break in her helm, and now it's a patch of burned skin. the harsher scar pictured here is present as well because that scar comes from the initial blow from finn.

- i'm also willing to bet phasma doesn't wear makeup either. "there's no time for it nor is there a need". however she would, on free time/when she's training, wear industrial/cargo pants, thick military/combat boots, and a gray tee tucked in neatly with a simple black belt. the logo to accompany that shirt is a small first order sigil near the collarbone and on her pants she would wear patches with her name, rank, and perhaps home flag on it as well as the first order's sigil as a patch.

- she's not offended by the assumption of masculinity, because she takes on the role of forceful and brutal commander whilst maintaining a strong reputation amongst the ranks of the first order. secretly, though she sees him as freakish and only tolerates him for his status, she's quite amused by kylo ren and wouldn't have it any other way. “the first order is not the same without him." she would also quietly tease him for his inability to find the map to skywalker.

- she would also probably take great pride in how shiny her armor is and routinely keep it clean on her free time, desperate to keep scuffs and marks out of it. she doesn't like deformalities, especially when it comes to her personal items.

- in terms of where her loyalties lie , she is ultimately loyal to herself despite her position and rank amongst her fellows. she would never admit it out loud though, and keep to herself about that opinion, but if it came down to her or a few members of her troops, she'd be fine with the sacrifice.

- phasma would probably pretend her baton is a lightsaber on occasion, side training with saber combat on either opponents or training dummies. if she is caught doing so, she would most certainly threaten the life of whoever caught her playing pretend. "you won't tell a soul if you value your life. now get back to work.”

- she probably secretly drinks tea in her quarters as well because she's british and it's natural.

in my humble opinion , she is most certainly , “gaslight , gatekeep , girlboss”.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Shooting the Messenger (Part Two)

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Harkonnen Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: As you struggle adjust to both your life under Jessica's steel grip and the casual assault of the Fremen spice on your palate, something has to give. But it isn't Jessica's humiliation that cracks you, rather the poorly timed dosage of spice on the both of you.

Warnings: Jessica is a menace (GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, girlboss?), smut- oral giving (R), sex under the influence of spice melange, more spitting/water sharing (because it's Jessica, COME ON).

A/N: Finals week or my final week? Neither! Just one more takeaway essay. :(

Word Count: 3.3k

Jessica was true to her word. Mostly. The weeks following her initial ‘custodial arrangement’, as she often referred to it, felt like being imprisoned in a mostly hostile, occasionally uneventful prison. The Fremen didn’t like you. That much was obvious. But how could you blame them? Your unnatural complexion was a testament to just how other you were. They avoided you, mostly. And when the Fremen slipped enough spice into your food to make you literally see things, you didn’t tell a soul. And so the extreme doses of spice stopped. Jessica’s chambermaids came to respect you, in the barest sense. Sure they didn’t like you, and you didn’t like them, but you had an understanding. Don’t mess with me, I won’t mess with you. No further tests with spice were administered. But Jessica had her own tests.

“You’re late.” she growled, watching as you slipped into her chambers.

“I came as soon as you requested me.” you replied, voice meek.

“I shouldn’t *have* to request you, it should always be you coming to my chambers as you do every night.”

Arguing with her was the equivalent of Sisyphus pushing a boulder up the hill. No matter how much ground you gained, she always took it from you just as you were about to reach the highest point.

“I’m sorry, Reverend Mother.”

“Always sorry, always screwing up.” 

You swallowed the bile that rose in your throat. She was unhappy. The war on Arrakis wasn’t going well, more people were dying, not just on Arrakis but across the galaxy. By now you understood your job wasn’t to aid Paul, it was to aid Jessica. She needed someone to care for, and the warrior child Alia almost never requested her mother’s presence unless it was for matters of war. Paul and Chani were glued at the hip, all while Princess Irulan withered away in her sandy palace. Jessica had no one, and the Fremen needed a force that would rouse them. She’d given much of her duties to Stilgar, but as the days wore on, she became more moody, quiet and stern.

“You miss Caladan today.”

Jessica stiffened. As much as she was constantly pushing you towards sensing her needs, the moments where you succeeded caught her off guard. 

“... I do.”

A seat beside her brought the woman much comfort. Her arms darted out for your frame, burying her face in the fabric of your veil. Your hair was starting to smell like sand. She hated it.

“I need something from you.” Jessica whispered, voice hoarse.

You reached up, cupping her face with your hands, the way she had instructed you to some nights past. Her spice blue eyes softened.

“Your eyes are starting to turn blue.” Jessica fretted, her eyes clouding over. “I’ve asked the Fremen to stop giving you spice in your food. If you taste it, you don’t eat it.” she whispered. “I won’t let this desert change you too. You must stay the same for me, okay?”

Her words were sensitive and frightened. It was a hidden battle within herself, clinging to the things that reminded her of home whilst still trying to reconcile with her changed life on Arrakis. It was heartbreaking to watch her suffer. That was when you managed the little empathy you could allot her.

“I like the spice in my food.”

Jessica’s face took on a pained expression, and she gripped you tighter.

“And I will not let your eyes go blue. If you want something for taste I will have them use pepper and sage. Not melange.”

Today was not one of those days where you felt empathy for her. It was a day where you had woken up sweaty and stinking of the sietch. It was a day where you couldn’t bear the taste of the Fremen food, and thus hardly ate. It was a day where you were thirsting endlessly for a glass of cool water, of water recycled by the earth and dug from the one ‘clean’ well spot on Giedi Prime. Not this water that had been carried in bodies so long that it had stopped tasting as water should. You missed the taste of chlorine in your water, oddly enough. 

“Fine.” you assented.

Jessica dug her fingers into the hair on your scalp, tugging at it with a degree of force that was really unnecessary.

“It is not just ‘fine’ that you should be saying, it is ‘yes, of course’.” Jessica snarled, her blue eyes blazing with fire.

You were both out of compassion and patience, it seemed.

“You are alive because of me, you ungrateful brat.”

“And sometimes I wonder if the merciful thing would have been letting me die instead of staying in this shithole!”

Jessica crowed with laughter, amused by your words.

“Oh, is the taste of real food making you upset? Do you miss your soulless sun and your grey walls and the sounds of debauchery wherever you went?”

Debauchery? How quaint.

“Do you think I am ignorant to the melange orgies? Do you think I am not aware of the way that men have trained themselves to fuck without spurting semen? The Fremen here are just as debauched as you are, lady mother. As we are, Harkonnen blood of my own.” Jessica was speechless. After all these weeks of breaking you down and bending you into the perfect obedient shape, you still had fight in you.

"Kneel.” The command hit you straight in the chest, pushing you from your lap and contorting to your knees in front of her. “You will remain kneeling until this chat is over, understand?” “I understand.” Assenting of your own volition was always better than the metallic taste of your words if they were forced with the Voice. It almost felt like blood was in your mouth when your tongue was compelled to speak, that thick substance slipping over your tongue as your mouth moved in shapes clumsy and uncoordinated. You never sounded like yourself when your speech was compelled, you sounded like you were eight, with a lisp peeking out, a lisp you’d buried after years of practice.

“Why do you fight?” Jessica sighed, as if this conversation was nothing short of tedious, (which it most certainly was).

“I don’t like you.”

Jessica laughed, eyes flickering with menacing humour. The idea was novel to her.

“Oh, how precious. You still allow yourself to be ruled by your feelings. I’d forgotten that individuals had that capacity towards blind emotion.”

Jessica wrapped her legs around your shoulders, using her hand to force your head to look up at her. It was a position that should have forced your face into her pelvis, but she manipulated your body just enough so that your head was pulled the opposite way. It added tension on your neck, highlighting the unnatural position of your head up instead of down; planted between her thighs. Another mind-fuck.

“You don’t get to let your emotions rule your decisions, that is not merely childish but also stupid. Everything about you is under my whim, what you feel I tell you to feel and you feel nothing else.” She dropped her grasp from your scalp suddenly, nearly causing you to face plant into her pubic bone. It was embarrassing, and thrilling. For many weeks she had been planting seeds inside your mind meant to excite desire for her. All of these seeds were laced with humility, such as the time she’d had you scrub her underwear clean of stains. It had been a lesson in how the Fremen sanitised clothes, mainly with the help of the sun, but also with the use of smell. You didn’t know a garment was clean until you smelled it. Sniffing her underthings to ensure they were clean had been sickening, creating an image of you doing it merely out of pleasure instead of necessity. 

“I hate this.” you whispered under your breath.

Jessica paused, only for a moment. Her thighs wrapped around your neck, shoving your face into her pubic region. “I can always make you hate it more.”

Tears sprung to your eyes. Wasteful tears, tears Jessica would hiss over, glaring you down until you stopped. 

“Why do I have to hate it? Why is it always a humilatory act?” you lamented, lips catching on the fabric of her dress as you spoke.

You heard Jessica’s sardonic chuckle.

“Would you obey if I was sweet to you? If I mothered you and coddled you and let you need me?”

“Yes.” you whispered.

Her legs loosened, and she pulled you up, wrapping her arms around you and cooing softly over your misty eyes.

“Why didn’t you just say so, hmm? Don’t you know that I’d rather be spoiling you than fighting with you?”

Her hands brushed over your face and head, soothing all the little worries away. She was manipulating you, this was textbook gaslighting. You knew it and you opened your mouth to fight it.

“Ah ah ah…” Jessica tutted. “Don’t think, I’ll tell you what to think. Just be here, present with me, hmm?”

She smiled, brushing her lips over your ear.

“Just be present.” <-->

The move to her bed was neither surprising nor eventful. Your chores stopped. The humiliating acts stopped. There was only sweet Jessica. Her arms curled around you while you both slept, the feeling of her lips brushing your ear as she whispered between you two, it was uneventful, almost maternal. But the abatement of her lust was destroyed after a particular melange engorgement. 

“Where is she?” Jessica rasped to a Fremen chambermaid.

“Inside your rooms, I believe. She’s studying.” the Fremen woman lied. You could hear Jessica’s wheezing breaths from outside the door. “You’re not partaking in the festivities? Go back, enjoy the moment-” “No, open the door.” Jessica snapped. “Reverend Mother…” The two descended into a heated debate in Chakobsa, words spoken at such a rapid and hurried pace that you could hardly keep up. You’d been studying the language, and could practise it conversationally, but their words were too fast to keep up with. But it wasn’t just their rapid pace that made it difficult, it was the swirling shapes above your head that distracted you. Your food had been laced with spice, again. The argument between the women outside escalated, and you heard a slap. Your stomach lurched as you heard the sharp tone in Jessica’s voice, a visceral, unforgiving wielding of the Voice. The door cracked open, and Jessica came in, hand on her abdomen, taking shaky breaths. Her hands were shaking, and you could barely make out the desperate expression on your face as you lay supine on the bed. “Lady mother…” you hummed, eyes half-lidded and glazed over from the spice.

Jessica groaned, stumbling forward and slumping on the bed beside you.

“My beautiful girl, not you too? Oh you poor thing…” Jessica cooed, lips pressing sloppy kisses on your jaw. Jessica’s breath stank of melange. How much had she used?

“Shapes and colours…” you gave her a goofy smile.

Jessica groaned and whimpered again, touching your fevered skin beneath your tunic. “How much spice did they give you?” Jessica whispered. “Dunno. The food was very spicy.” you giggled. “I’m not too high. Just happy high.” you clarified.

Jessica nodded, letting out a breathy exhale. Her hands cupped above her womb. Was she having some kind of reaction to the spice? She looked like she was in pain. “Help me undress, I’m too warm.” Jessica panted. “Undress us both, actually.”

You didn’t argue with the woman. She was obviously reacting poorly to the melange she’d consumed, and so you stripped her of her tunic and her pants. Your movements were a bit sloppy, as you were intoxicated with melange, but you managed. She was covered in sweat, and the humid air of the sietch didn’t help cool her skin much, it just trapped the moisture. There was moisture clinging to her panties too. You assumed it was sweat. “These as well?”

“Yes.” Jessica panted. “Bare as the day I was born.”

You pulled them off, dropping the sweaty garments on the floor. Her hands pulled at your tunic, you were at risk of overheating. The fabric came off, and Jessica skipped no steps in ensuring you were entirely bare.

“I can’t believe they would do this to you, I told them to stop putting spice in your food, especially for celebrations…” Jessica whispered, pulling you towards her.

Her skin felt clammy against your own, and you shifted in discomfort, causing your nipples to brush over hers.

“Hu- Oh, no, don’t move honey.” Jessica whined. “I can’t let you move.”

You nuzzled into her neck.

“Lover, no, no. I’m too tense, I can’t have you snuggling with me.” “Why?” you rasped.

“Because I’ll lose my composure. I’ll use the Voice to make you do things that would defy moral behaviour.”

You giggled, tickled by the idea of Jessica trying to cling to whatever skewed moral compass she had.

“You don’t want to fuck me high, is that it?” you whispered, kissing her cheek. “Okay. I’ll just leave then.” You were significantly less encumbered by the spice than Jessica, namely because you hadn’t been given more than a few pinches. It was easy to slip out of her arms, leaving the woman to whine and whimper as you left.

“No! No!” Jessica whimpered. “Don’t leave, please.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the woman. Her hands were fisted in the bedsheets, and she appeared to almost be in pain.

“Oh come on, you can’t take care of it yourself?” you smirked.

“Please.” Jessica whispered. “I came because I wanted it to be you.”

The idea was novel.

“Oh, and who else would it have been?”

Jessica let out another whine.

“I don’t do orgies. I don’t like them, and I am depraved, but not in that way. My beautiful girl, I want it to be you.”

She was high. And you were high. The spice melange dulled inhibitions, it made you more susceptible to her manipulation, more susceptible to her games, but this wasn’t a game. She was being truthful, and you knew she was being truthful because she was so weak. Jessica never gave you an inch, she never dropped her guard. This wasn’t a game where she was teasing your strings and spinning you into a position of subservience for her own gain, this was her begging for you.

“Good girl, oh precious thing…” Jessica rasped, happily wrapping her arms around you as you dropped back onto the bed.

Her dark hair clung to her back in tangled, sweaty clumps. You didn’t want to think about the state your hair was in. She pulled you in deeper, cupping the back of your head until her lips crashed on yours in a messy, hurried kiss.

“I always wondered what Harkonnen women had that made men desire them so.” Jessica rasped. “I think it’s your smell. I hate that you’re losing your smell…”

Her hands drew circles up and down your back.

“I want to enjoy you, I really do, but lover, it hurts so bad.” Jessica husked, biting her lower lip.

“Give me more kisses.” you shut her down, lips hungrily seeking hers.

Jessica huffed, continuing to makeout with you on her mattress. Her tongue was bitter and laced with the taste of melange, and her tongue was dry. You reached for the water collector in the room, finding the straw and sipping from it. You held her mouth open, releasing the water into her mouth so she could drink. She was weak, dehydrated and in need of intimacy.

“Mmm… More.” Jessica sighed, the water quelling her slightly. 

You drank a few sips for yourself, then you leaned down, delivering more water into her mouth. Jessica giggled, kissing you sloppily. She was happy, this was happy. 

“Lay on your back for me now.” Jessica rasped, hands digging into your back.

You rolled over, allowing Jessica to lie over you. 

“Can I trust you to tell me if you can’t breathe?”

“Yes, lady mother.”

Jessica sighed, moving to straddle your face.

“No, not like that. You sit on the edge of the bed, I’m too hot for that.”

The woman laughed, relinquishing the orientation to you. It was easier, kneeling on the floor. You liked it a lot, a simple cushion under your knees and your skin free for air flow. Jessica was quick to hike her thighs over your shoulders, letting out a needy whimper.

“Yes, yes, just like that.”

Her hands laced themselves in your hair. Your hands busied themselves with supporting her. Your thumbs spread her dripping labia, revealing a milky, inflamed entrance.

“How long were you-”

“Don’t make me use the Voice. Get to work.”

The thought was amusing, and you chuckled a bit, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her entrance, getting your first good smell and taste of her. Being that the desert gave limited opportunities to clean, her smell was concentrated, and the influence of spice was not lost on this particular part of her body either. A slow stripe up from her entrance to her clit was intoxicating, she was so different.

“I said, don’t make me use the Voice.” Jessica whined, hands shoving your face into her more earnestly.

It didn’t matter what she was threatening, you were in your own little world, the spice melange providing an immersive experience to the act. You were more present than you had ever been in similar situations. Slow licks provided the best coverage, the flat of your tongue working over her in gentle, steady motions.

“Lover, please…” Jessica sighed, heels digging into your back.

You looked up at her with half-lidded, relaxed eyes, your mouth glued to her clit. 

“Roll your tongue, suck.” Jessica directed.

You shut your eyes, focusing on the sensation of her nub on your tongue as you rolled circles around it, sucking it in your mouth greedily.

“Mmmhmm… Yes… Just like that lover.”

Developing a rhythm became second nature, slow licks from entrance to clit to catch her slick, more pointed rolls of your tongue over her clit to elicit a few gasps and moans. But her opening got more attention. 

“(Reader), you are such a tease… At least fuck me with your tongue.” Jessica panted.

You obliged, sticking your tongue past the ring of her vagina. You moaned into her, pistoning your tongue in and out. As to not neglect her pleasure entirely, your thumb found her clit, rubbing gentle circles over the nerve cluster as you busied yourself with slurping and licking at her entrance.

“Oh… Maker… Don’t you dare stop, yes!” Jessica groaned, pushing your face down.

You sped up your motions of your thumb, rewarding you with more soft whines and grunts as Jessica neared her peak. You felt it before you heard Jessica’s cry of affirmation, the muscles of her entrance contracting and quivering around your tongue. The woman slumped back into the bed, leaving you to quietly draw slow licks from entrance to clit, cleaning her up. Jessica drank greedily from her water bag, tugging you upwards by your chin. She flipped you onto your back, opening your mouth so she could deliver a beam of water on your tongue. You swallowed, and Jessica grinned, greedily licking her arousal off of your lower mouth.

“Such a generous lover… You’ve worn me out spectacularly.”

Jessica giggled, pulling you into her arms, pressing your still sweaty forms against each other to rest. The night was filled with zero interruptions, and as your skin and clothes dried, the moisture collector filled itself. Jessica was quick to take a sip or two, always stirring you awake to pour a mouthful of water into your mouth, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before you drifted off again. Come morning, your skin was dry, the humidity in the air gone and your mouths no longer sticky from mucus.

“Lover?” Jessica whispered.

“Yes?” you mumbled, head in her breasts.

“Can I spoil you now?”

You giggled, playfully biting the underside of her boob. 

“Okay, feisty. Don’t make me-”

“Use the Voice? Empty threats.” you smirked.

Jessica laughed again, kissing you tenderly. A wicked look in her eyes remained.

”Desire.”

[homoeroticbetrayal]

Iconic Homoerotic Betrayal: Round 2

Round 2 Directory

Context:

Hannibal/Will

Summary by Anonymous Contributor

Most iconic of their multiple betrayals is in the episode Mizumono. Hannibal is planning on running away with Will after they kill their mutual friend/enemy Jack. Hannibal discovers that Will lied about being a fellow murderer and is working with Jack to arrest him. Will tries to warn Hannibal without getting Jack killed or Hannibal arrested. But it's too late. Hannibal cradles Will's face before stabbing him and leaves Will bleeding on the floor as he escapes, heartbroken.

Vriska/Terezi

Summary by shamsi @raedas !!!!

Vriska and Terezi were the blueprint for insane gay teenage girl besties. During a nasty cycle of revenge for a teenage roleplaying game mishap (Vriska paralyzed someone and killed someone else don't worry about it) Terezi tricks Vriska into losing an arm and an eye, causing Vriska to retaliate and trick Terezi into losing her eyesight. They call a truce. THEN when Vriska begins a little murder spree and is about to risk the deaths of all of their surviving friends, she dares Terezi to kill her in order stop her, believing that Terezi won't be able to bring herself to do it. She is ultimately wrong. The whole thing echoes the story of their ancestors. However Terezi regrets what she did misses Vriska and when things go so wrong that no hope is left, Terezi hatches a narrative altering plan to bring Vriska back and change everything.

(Mod: I've decided to keep the other half of your nom in the link, since I think it's better to keep this to the essentials when I can. Hope that's alright.)

See more context on Vriska/Terezi

[joesalw]

All of Taylor's albums were tailored to the most popular aesthetic at the time. She didn't make shit popular, she just adapted. Especially when she made the transition into pop music.

True. She's currently jumping fences with rep as well. Making it out to be a goth punk moment and using trendy words like 'female rage'. The album has the most romantic songs she's ever written. C'mon now. The whole record is electropop with some R&B elements thrown into the mix.

She portrays 'Lover' as her social justice warrior era. 'If I was a man, then I'd be the man'. Yeah, we've seen it Taylor. Miss 'me becoming a billionaire is good for the world because I'm a woman'. She makes herself out to be this 'feminist girl's girl' when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. She's not a feminist and she doesn't want to be the woman that's advocating for women's rights and leads the path for the future generation of women. She wants to be the man at the top. Her motto is literally 'gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, greenhouse gases'.

Another thing is her queer allyship. She's mentioned it when and only when it was profitable to her. During her tour she hadn't said a thing when the number of states signed anti-trans bills and the state of Tennessee where she says she lives *according to her own documentary* banned drag. I don't think she said anything about the anti-abortion legislation either. Her activist era started and ended in 2019.

Don't get me started on her position regarding the BLM movement. She only posted something because her own fans started calling her out and then declared that she's 'ferociously anti-racist'. She positioned herself as an advocate *by herself* and then immediately dipped when it stopped being as profitable. If you don't want to be dragged for your silence about social and political crises, don't proclaim yourself as an activist. Simple as that.

I've also seen the video on Youtube about TS being a narcissist (someone posted it on your blog earlier I think). And the guy in the video brought up her guitar teacher. So I looked him up and found an article where he talks about his experience with the Swifts which he got sued for later. According to the man, Taylor's mother was interested in him teaching her daughter how to play country music and was just a stage mom in general. And TS says that she'd been begging her parents to allow her learn how to play guitar and that she's self-taught. She wants her success story to be a rags to riches so bad I can't even.

She's a woman with an extremely fragile ego where millions of people could be praising her and a single negative comment would set her off. She can't handle any form of criticism, break ups or inconveniences like a grown woman simply because she doesn't have enough emotional intelligence to do so. Her being surrounded by yes men also doesn't help the situation. If i were her, I'd rather invest in a good therapist rather than 2 PJs. She drowns herself in work and relationships so she doesn't have time to go inwards and sit with her thoughts.

I kinda feel bad for her, honestly. She's been in the industry since she was 15 and her success was almost immediate. She doesn't know what the world's like because she's been sheltered her whole life and then had other people do things for her. I don't think she has many real friends as well. By real I mean people who aren't afraid to tell you the truth and are able to call you out in your face. Instead she has a bunch of people who appease her afraid of pissing her off and ending up on her bad side and as a result her vanity grows and she completely loses any sort of perspective whether in her friendships, romantic relationships or maybe even her own family.

I also wonder what she thinks about her fandom pirating her concert film instead of paying to rent it. I sort of hope that her fans are starting to wake up to her conning schemes. I mean, you've already made a shit ton of money from the theatre release, why charging 20$ more to RENT IT?Not even buy it. Or is it another narrative about how 'no one can own my work but me'?

This woman sells well but her cultural impact is almost nonexistent. She hadn't done any good for the world causes or inspired several generations of performers like Michael Jackson has with his philanthropic endeavors and incredible performing skills. The artists like Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake (bleh) and The Weeknd were hugely influenced by MJ. These artist create their own unique legacy and impact on their communities. Especially the ladies. Gaga's been an avid LGBT+ advocate since the beginning of her career and created a foundation that focuses on issues like self-confidence, well-being, anti-bullying, mentoring and career development. She also participated in anti HIV and AIDS campaigns, spoke against immigration laws in the US, contributed to 2011's earthquake and tsunami relief campaign in Japan. Beyoncé's a huge advocate for the black community and black women especially which always finds its way in her work and visual art in particular. She's been platforming black culture and history for her whole career (2016 Superbowl and Coachella performance are the brightest examples of black american culture and releasing her Lion King album to showcase African artists' excellence). She also has a foundation where she provides black youth scholarships, clean water for communities abroad and housing to families in need in her home state.

What exactly makes Taylor Swift's cultural impact? Thousands of tons CO2 emissions? Music labels putting a clause in the contract so the artists can't re-record their material for 10 years now instead of 5? Making several versions of the same CD or vinyl so the sales are bigger? Mind you, that's all excessive plastic and paper. Some countries and US states are banning gas stoves. Her position regarding artists being paid during the early days of streaming (when the platforms were launching with a free period tial) was right but no one really benefited from it but her. She was shitting on Apple Music, then they offered her money, filmed an ad and released her 1989 Tour DVD exclusively on their platform. She shat on Spotify, then when LWYMMD came out, she was all over their biggest playlists all of a sudden and recorded Spotify Singles later on. Spotify's always promoted her every release like a motherfucker shoving her in every corner of the platform. Especially for the past 3 years. She doesn't have any memorable outfits or unique style to be called a fashion icon either. She's not a trailblazer she thinks she is. She is only popular because a lot of people *mostly ww* who peaked in high school see themselves in her. She's average in everything she does, her writing topes are also the same (only now she started using compound or uncommonly used words to mask it) but she's extremely commercially successful so that those people can see themselves in her. She doesn't have unique music style or chameleon-like discography like Gaga, Bey, MJ, Madonna, Shakira, Kelly Clarkson, Miley Cyrus or Nelly Furtado. She doesn't have a unique singing voice like Bjork, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Janis Joplin, MJ or Bob Dylan. She's no instrument prodigy either. And swifties say that 'Michael couldn't play any instruments'. Well, he was an exceptional beatboxer. She can strum 4 guitar chords and play basic piano, that's it. She doesn't have an outstanding dancing and/or vocal skill.

What is she gonna be remembered for? Her numerous relationships with famous men? While that might be misogynistic or sexist to some degree, she's the one who makes her relationships the centre of her music and public persona and brings them up even 10 years after they ended. Her public feuds with men and women that she can't get over years after? This woman is certainly can hold a grudge and is extremely vindictive. The leader of a parasocial cult that blindly defends her bigotry? I believe so. I don't think I've ever seen a fandom as toxic and as hive-minded as swifties. And again, it's Taylor's own creation. She's the one that constantly says 'look closely for the easter eggs' in her content making her fans theorize on every aspect of her life, or 'if you're very loyal I might invite you to MY HOUSE and you can listen to the new album early, we'll take pics and I'll bake you some cookies'. Of course they'll follow your any order. I'm glad I escaped.

Oof, I'll stop here. That's a very long one already

sorry hehe

.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Quarterfinals, Poll 1

Propaganda under the cut

Miss Piggy

She is the queen of Girlbossing. She lies to get what she wants, and keeps out any she thinks isn't worthy of what she has to offer. She is perhaps the original Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss.

Vriska Serket

It’s Vriska baby!

it's vriska

not only manipulates people the traditional way but also literally has mind control powers.

she manipulates her disabled friend constantly and is the reason why hes disabled in the first place. she is constantly telling lies and half truths to make sure she has all the cards in every possible situation. she does basically everything by herself and turns on others if they dont follow her lead and dies multiple times in her struggle for the spotlight, her one true goal. she has an eyepatch and a robot arm. she gets all the women. ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!

shes girlbosses her way into SOOOOOOOO MANY other competitions AND WON!!!!!!!! and like okay yea, she mostly won bc some of them were rigged but also shes just like that lol shes got a whole lotta lucky 8r8ks >:::;)

[amazingmsme]

how do you think the npmd nerds/whatever hatchetfield characters you’re in the mood to write for, try to like (subtly or not to subtly) hint at wanting tickles 👀

Oh I’m about to go HAM with this one! Buckle in cause I got a feeling it’s gonna be long, but imma try to be succinct. Also: FIRST ASK OF THE YEAR

Grace: will straight up go ask one of her friends to tickle her, the absolute mad woman

Ruth: she’s so damn touch starved so she’s in a lee mood more often than not. She gets more whiny & clingy with her friends & blushes a lot easier than normal

Richie: he cranks up the annoying friend routine up to an 11, teasing Pete & Ruth & cracking stupid jokes. His leg shakes a lot when he’s in a lee mood because he’s got a lot of pent up energy

Peter: stutters a lot & tends to stare at people’s hands a lot. He stretches a lot when he’s in a lee mood. I’m talkin’ arms all the way over his head, back arched, & he makes a high pitched groaning noise just to make sure he gets someone’s attention

Bonus Round! aka everyone else I feel like writing

Max: gets a lot more hyper & rowdy with his friends & tickles them in hopes they’ll get him back

Alice: suffers in silence & acts all grumpy until Deb catches on

Lex: gets real cuddly & clingy with Ethan & not so subtly tries to move his hands to her tickle spots so he’ll “accidentally” brush against a sensitive spot

Ethan: purposefully makes himself all mopey & emo to entice Lex to wreck his shit. Puppy eyes to the max

Paul: clams up, stutters a lot more than usual & jumps at pretty much any sudden movement in his direction & generally is much gigglier than normal

Bill: drops what he thinks are subtle hints & is a lot more affectionate with his coworkers. A hug to Paul or Charlotte, an arm around Ted’s shoulders, ruffles their hair. Is overall very smiley & playful

Charlotte: gets really cuddly & giggly. Usually it’s whenever she’s alone with Ted so she’ll lay in positions where her tickle spots are stretched out & vulnerable & calls his name over & over. Or if he’s really oblivious she gives up & starts a tickle fight

Ted: ASSHOLE TO THE MAX!!! Seriously, when Ted Spankoffski’s in a lee mood, everyone knows about it because he makes it everyone’s problem. He can never bring himself to ask for it, he can’t even admit it to himself that he likes it, so he just becomes So Insufferable until someone decides to do something about it

Tom: doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s been wanting until Becky gently grabs his arm & asks “want me to tickle you?” (He’s been silently staring at the ground and rubbing his neck/scratching his beard for the past 10 minutes)

Becky: she shyly will bring up a memory from high school with Tom & mentions how he used to tickle her. Not near as subtle as she thinks she is, but hey, it always works

Linda: will walk right up to her husband or whoever she’s having an affair with & loudly proclaim “what does a woman have to do around here to be appreciated?” & basically lays on the guilt trip. But what did you expect from miss gaslight gatekeep girlboss herself?

BONUS BONUS!

Dan Reynolds: sneak attacks the news crew to be funny but really he just wants someone to return the favor but no one ever does because he’s THE Dan Reynolds!

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 ║ Chapter 9 - And If I’m Dead To You, Why Are You at the Wake?

| ENDLESS NIGHT | series masterlist | main masterlist | | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC Ellie Williams x platonic!fem!OC

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 8.8k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: passive sewer slide ideation, allusions to sewer slide intentions, mental health is in the gutter, angst, trauma trauma trauma, ineffective coping mechanisms, moments of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, men are stupid and inferior

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel tries to earn back your trust, and he hopes learning more about your past from Tommy will help him. Your fractured relationship means you aren’t open to his help, and he is no longer privy to your comings and goings. Joel has to decide how long that will remain the case after he learns a troubling detail about your recent activities in town.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄║ ＮＥＸＴ ║

✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧ "𝙸 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞; 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝." ─ Sʏʟᴠɪᴀ Pʟᴀᴛʜ ✧⋄⋆•✧⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆•⋆⋄── •✧• ──⋄⋆•⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧•⋆⋄ ✧

Joel had a headache that wouldn’t ease up, but he begrudgingly accepted Tommy’s invitation to meet up at the Tipsy Bison. A few glasses of whiskey later didn’t resolve his headache, but he sure felt better. After the two chat about how Maria’s pregnancy is going as well as one could hope, how Ellie has adopted her hybrid schooling routine full tilt, and how much longer the build is going to take, the topic turns to you.

“Told you to just trust her man,” Tommy snarks, clapping a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “She takes care of the people here. Never missed the mark once. Not once. Maria knew she had somethin’ valuable in that head of hers. S’why she elected to bring her in. Sure as shit helped me get on my feet when I first got here.”

Joel couldn’t pass up the chance to see if he could weasel some information about your past out of Tommy. He steadied himself so he could play this as apathetic as possible. The last thing he needed was for Tommy to catch on that there were issues between the two of you that were entirely Joel’s fault. It was a risk he was willing to take, though, if it meant he had an opportunity to learn more about who you were and where you came from. Maybe he could learn something that would help him figure out a way to get you to talk to him again.

“Yeah, she seems popular with the locals,” Joel drawls. “Ellie’s taken to her real quick, that’s for sure.” 

He takes a sip of whiskey and swirls the remaining amber liquid in his tumbler. He’d taken to you quickly, too, but he wasn’t going to tell Tommy that. Joel fidgeted in his seat when Tommy didn't say anything.

“So what’s her story anyway? Never heard how she ‘n Maria end up crossin’ paths.”

He looked up and regretted it almost instantly when he catches Tommy’s nostrils flaring as he tries to suppress a nettlesome smirk.

“Shut up and answer the question, jackass,” Joel snips. 

Tommy laughs goodnaturedly and decides he won’t torture his brother just yet about what’s got him so hot under the collar when it comes to you.

“Well, from how it’s been told to me, a patrol group came across her and got her cornered, but she gave ‘em the slip. Clever thing. Nobody was really expectin’ it from her. Thought she was a kid at first, bein’ so small. She was even smaller than she is now, ya know? Worse for wear. Survivin’ on her own in the winter here. Nobody believed her when she said she was by herself.” Tommy shakes his head and chuckles, an acknowledgement that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“Cornered?” Joel repeats, redirecting Tommy to the point of action in the story.

Tommy scrunches his eyebrows in understanding as he swallows his sip of whiskey. He set the glass down and turned to face Joel straight on with a ruminative expression.

“Yeah. Managed to get her between a rock ‘n a hard place. Prolly wouldn’t’a been able to even manage that without the dogs sniffin’ her out, though. She was a slippery thing. Still don’t understand how she got up the damn tree so fast,” Tommy huffs with wide eyes. Again, bewildered at the reality of your competency in conjunction with your contradictory appearance.

Joel made a noise of impatience when Tommy didn’t get back to telling the story quickly enough. Tommy cleared his throat and got back to his recounting of that fortuitous day.

There had been at least five of them on horseback. The sound of thundering gallops led you to believe it was probably more. The sound of barking dogs led you to believe you were going to be absolutely fucked if you couldn’t find cover in the next few seconds.

You were cursing to yourself at all the supplies you’d left back at camp. A knife and some climbing tools weren’t going to cover the bases for the group close on your trail. Even if you could shake the riders, the dogs would be able to follow your scent. You were going to die. After everything you’d been through and all the times you’d escaped death, you were going to be torn apart by a pack of dogs. Or worse.

You hadn’t seen anyone out here. You’d been camping in the general area for months, and you hadn’t seen a soul. You thought with the firm start of winter that you’d be even less likely to find another human out here. Stupid. Stupid, stupid mistake. All those times you fussed at Caroline for being careless and too relaxed. Now look at you. Running for your life, sizing up the few options for survival that you have. You aren’t even sure why you’re trying so hard to stay alive. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to just give up and face your destiny.

You shake the defeatist thoughts from your mind. Now was not the time. You had to push through. You had to keep going. You had to find somewhere to hide. You shove the spiked palm wraps onto both of your hands. Not the optimum fit, but it was the best you could do while running full speed in the opposite direction of the group hunting you down. Your eyes darted between the options in the treeline. You settle on the widest one. You’d have to scale up the back of it so your body would be hidden from view on the other side. 

The forward driving momentum of your run almost causes you to trip over yourself when you make an abrupt stop behind the tree. You slam the climbing claws into the sharp bark and scramble upwards, not stopping until you are at least 20 feet above ground. This had been your intention today, going out to scout the area from higher up. Now you were scouting out just how much time you had before the group made it to your location.

You tuck yourself between branches with dense sprays and pray it is enough to camouflage your body. You had to get yourself situated quickly because once they got close enough you wouldn’t be able to move without shaking some of the snow from the branches and giving your location away.

The cantering of the horses came to a stop several yards away. You didn’t have much of a view from your angle, but you couldn’t risk shifting around to see better. The absence of barks and yips from the dogs was ominous. As if on cue, the sound of snarling barks and snapping jaws circled beneath you and floated up to your ears. You are so tightly wound you imagine that you can feel the vibrations of their nails as some of them claw at the base of your tree.

A sharp whistle calling the attention of any surrounding people makes you jerk. “Hey, they’re signaling over here!” A deep male voice carries like building imploding into itself after the detonation button had been pressed. It radiates through you and sends chills up your spine.

More movement concentrates below you. You can hear a muted conversation carrying on, but you don’t dare look down. The tones of the voices sound like a gathering of minds sorting out and weighing opinions. Some noises that sound like disagreements. A few sound defeated.

Whatever had been discussed was over now when a voice called up to you. “YOU ALONE?”

Your stomach clenched. That was never a good sign. The first question assessing what manpower you had. You were going to die. This was it. You cling to the branches with a vice grip and don’t answer. You can hear someone else telling the first voice that “there’s nobody up there.” A few other voices seem to agree.

A new voice piped up. “She’s small enough. The dogs are saying she’s here. I agree it doesn’t seem likely, but all signs point to that.” 

Ah, so that’s what the discussion had been about. Whether or not someone as small and weak looking as you could have managed such a feat. You had come to use that exact thing to your benefit. People not giving you the benefit of the doubt usually ended poorly for them. Your size didn’t have to be a disadvantage all the time. You could use it against people who were presumptuous enough to dismiss you as capable or as a real threat.

“Alright, if nobody’s up there and I’m just talking to myself then it doesn’t matter if I waste a few bullets?” the voice snapped at the others.

You somehow froze even more than you already were. Being sprayed with bullets and then falling 20 feet from a tree seemed like an excessively unique way to suffer.

“ALRIGHT. LISTEN HERE, SWEETIE. IF YOU’RE UP THERE HIDING, YOU NEED TO COME DOWN. WE AREN’T GONNA HURT YOU. THE DOGS NEED TO CLEAR YOU, AND THEN YOU’RE GOOD. IF YOU DON’T COME DOWN, I’M GONNA HAVE TO ASSUME YOU ARE INFECTED AND WON’T BE CLEARED BY THE DOGS ANYWAY,” the voice booms up to you.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever this group was had enough resources to train dogs to sniff out infected? You are FUCKED. The dogs would of course clear you because you weren’t infected, but these men obviously had an established protocol outlined for encountering outsiders. The fact that they were going through this much trouble just to flush you out made your insides churn. Nothing good could come from this.

“I’M GONNA COUNT TO FIVE BEFORE I START SENDING UP SOME SHOTS. YOUR CHOICE,” the voice announced.

You hadn’t imagined this was how you were going to die, but you suppose it could always be worse.

“ONE.”

Maybe he was a really good aim and would kill you with the first round.

“TWO.”

But if he wasn’t and just grazed you, then you’d probably be injured enough to start falling.

“THREE.���

Maybe you’d be lucky and your neck would snap on something while you plummeted.

“FOUR.”

Or maybe you needed to end this on your own terms.

“FI-”

“Don’t shoot!” you yell down.

Surprised murmurs and shuffling down below. No going back now. You’d already made yourself known, so it wouldn’t hurt to get a clear view of just how insurmountable the situation was. You peek through the branches and greenery. Seven men, not five. All on horseback. All armed. Three dogs.

“ALRIGHT. I WON’T SHOOT,” the voice boomed again. You could now see it belonged to a middle aged man with a light brown, neatly trimmed beard. His gun was resting in the crook of his elbow but could be wielded again swiftly if he needed to. “BUT YOU HAVE TO COME DOWN AND LET OUR DOGS CLEAR YOU.”

You didn’t have a lot of options at this point. The thing working in your favor was the fact that most of the group hadn’t considered you past your appearance. Even now, seeing how you had managed to scale the tree and skillfully hide from view, four out of the seven still appeared untroubled by you and your clear disadvantage. It was true that you were woefully outnumbered, but you had escaped worse.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you call back down in a put-on trembling voice. You were scared, but your pride would have kept your voice level if you hadn’t purposefully altered it. You needed to play into their misconceptions about you if you were going to make it out of this alive and intact.

“YOU DON’T,” the man called up. “BUT YOU DON’T REALLY HAVE MUCH CHOICE, DO YOU?”

The prior claim of no intention to harm you wasn’t aligning with these demands being shouted at you.

“You said you weren’t going to hurt me,” you yell out with a hurt inflected tone. You keep your eyes on the self-appointed leader of the group. You see his face soften a bit. Got him.

“AS LONG AS YOU AREN’T INFECTED, WE HAVE NO REASON TO CAUSE YOU HARM,” he assures you. “ARE YOU ALONE?”

There was that loaded question again. You opt for a dramatically meek nod. You didn’t trust yourself to not vocalize your fear this time, pride be damned.

Your answer seems to stir up doubt amongst the men. A few of them exchange glances, and the rest exchange hushed words. The leader turns back to you. “LOOK, WE UNDERSTAND IF YOU’RE TRYNA KEEP SOMEBODY SAFE, SWEETIE. BUT IF OUR DOGS SNIFF THEM OUT BEFORE WE KNOW THEY’RE THERE, WE CAN’T MAKE ANY PROMISES.”

Of course they don’t believe you. Surviving on your own and in the winter of Wyoming, even if it was early on, just wasn’t feasible for someone like you. You don’t appear in good health with your sunken eyes, pale face, and bony frame. You are trying to keep your expressions in check, but something had made them come to the conclusion that you belonged to a group you were now trying to protect.

You’d just have to use that for your benefit as well, then. Let it be a distracting piece of the puzzle for them. Throw them off. Use their judgment against them.

“I’m scared!” you half-sob. The tremble in your voice is real. You are scared. 

But your fear doesn’t outweigh your burning determination to get out of this situation.

You see most of the men’s faces give away the fact that they have some tinge of guilt for making you feel scared. You had dangled that bait to see what they would do with the plight of a frightened young female who by all appearances was alone and in need of assistance. Their reaction to such a thing would tell you plenty. Excitement at your fear would’ve indicated many a nefarious possibility. Their reaction of almost compassion was dumbfounding but unequivocally preferable.

“SWEETIE, YOU GOTTA COME DOWN. I’M GONNA KEEP MY FIREARM READY, BUT I DON’T HAVE IT POINTED AT YOU. LOOK RIGHT NOW AND YOU CAN SEE I’M TELLIN’ YOU THE TRUTH,” the leader said.

You took the opportunity to get a clear bird’s eye view of everyone’s locations and tactical preparations. The leader was the only one who had his gun at the ready. Some of the others had even slung theirs on their backs and only held reins in their hands now. You needed to fully commit to the fragile, scared girl act to get them as complacent as possible.

“Do you promise?” you fake cry.

“SWEETIE, COME ON. COME DOWN. I’LL HAVE THE DOGS SIT BEHIND US UNTIL YOU’RE FULLY ON THE GROUND, ALRIGHT?” he offers.

Perfect. Dogs out of the way. One single firearm ready. You slide downward a few branches, making sure to appear clumsy and shaky. “I’m s-s-sorry I d-didn’t answer before,” you whimper. “I’m just–just really s-scared.”

A few of the men look away to ease their conscience. Maybe they were good men who truly did feel for you and didn’t wish to cause you any harm. Or maybe they were just new to whatever fucked up endeavor they were planning and hadn’t learned to commit to shirking whatever humanity they had left in them. Either way, you were quickly gaining the upper hand right under their noses. You stop on a branch roughly ten feet off the ground. You feign exhaustion from the physical exertion and know your appearance will sell it.

“C-Can somebody h-help me get down the rest of t-the way?” you blubber. The adrenaline and fear and resolve all fighting for dominance within you produced real tears.

The leader nods and jerks his head towards one of the men who had been looking away in shame. PERFECT. He was a younger looking man who had a strong resemblance to the leader. Maybe it was his son? He carefully trots his horse beneath the branch you were perched on. You lock eyes with him and force several more tears to spill out before you address him.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg quietly with a contorted face.

“I promise, sweetie. I fuckin’ promise I’m not. Nobody is. I swear it,” he implores. He is so earnest and raw it almost makes you feel bad for what you’re about to do. You sniffle dramatically and nod before squatting down as if to ready your descent. You reach out a shaky hand, and the man fully extends both of his arms out to you. He actually seemed nice. If only you could have met these seemingly kind people under different circumstances.

You lean down slightly but keep hold of a thick branch. Just as you curve your hand around his, you push off the limb with a hard kick. The force of it pushes all your weight into the topheavy half of the man. Your jarring exit from the tree shook all the snow held on the branch as it snapped from the tree. The other horses startle at the loud crack, the downpour of snow, and the impact of the falling branch. 

Your momentum combined with the targeted push against the man sends him flying off the horse. You don’t have time to fully seat yourself onto it, but you give the horse a hard kick to its hind with your leg that isn’t hooked onto the animal for dear life. You grab onto the reins so tight you feel like you’ll have rope burn on them if you manage to cheat death today.

You pay no mind to the whinnying horses, barking dogs, yelling men, and gunshots going off behind you as you make your daring escape. The horse is galloping at full speed, and you try your best to get into the saddle. You don’t have much recent experience with horses and are fully relying on your childhood days of afterschool equestrian lessons your beauty pageant mother had begged you to take. Caroline was always more of the girly pageant type, and your equestrian competitions and showcases were as close as you were gonna get to any sort of showmanship contest.

You can almost hear your mother now, cheering you on as you flee to safety. Raving over your clever deception so masterfully executed. You can imagine how your dad would be quietly smiling and standing proud over his little girl being so resourceful and brave. 

You take to the river to hide the tracks and don't stop until you know you’ve lost each and every one of them. Once it was safe enough to do so, you returned to your camp. It was an exhausting and frightening encounter, but you’d gotten a horse out of it. Not a bad trade.

You stroke the muzzle and jaw of the beautiful creature. You are reminded of your horse from all those years ago. A light reddish brown horse you’d creatively named Brownie. You laugh at yourself for the predictable name. You remember how your mom had hyped you up and insisted it was the most gorgeous, perfect name for a horse. You smile at her memory.

She was a classic beauty in every sense of the term and had dedicated years of her life to the vapid world of women as spectacles, and yet she was the most down to earth, humble person you’d ever known.

She was always proud of you no matter what you chose, but she could never really hide how happy she was to see you puff up your chest a little bit and let the world bask in just how great you were. She and your father both were the picturesque, doting parents. You and Caroline never went without, even if your parents had to pinch pennies here and there and forgo things for themselves.

You wish you could’ve had more time with them. At least now they have Caroline back. All of your family except you, reunited once more. You close your eyes and try not to focus on how much you wish sometimes to join them. To just give up. Get it over with. You sigh a frustrated breath and busy yourself with camp.

Several miles away, the group tracking you had returned to Jackson. Unbeknownst to you, they had recounted the incident to Maria, who was impressed with your abilities. A meeting was called to determine if there was in fact a group nearby of which you were a member, how many there were, if any were infected, if any or all posed a threat, and if there was any indication they would attempt a raid. It was decided that a search and scout mission would be conducted after half the group decided you must be a raider, given your exhibition and trickery.

It was days into their mission before Maria and one other patrol member managed to track you down. They observed you from afar, surveying your movements for two days. Once Maria felt confident you weren’t attached to any group and truly were alone out here, she and the other member caught you off guard and captured both you and the horse without injury.

You remained tied to the stolen horse as they carted you back to Jackson. You panicked the entire way. Something about Maria told you that you weren’t going to get lucky enough to escape this time. 

By the time the covering was removed from your eyes, you determined they must be slavers, salivating over their latest haul. It makes you sick to your stomach knowing you will turn a good profit for them. The man tried to engage, but you immediately began to fight. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I killed somebody trying to sell me off, you piece of shit!” you snarl, spitting in his face. You pull and tug against your restraints, but they won’t budge.

Maria intervened before it got more violent and talked to you one on one to allay any concerns you had that they intended to mistreat you in some way.

“And you’re what? The madame of this fucked up operation? You make me sick,” you growl. 

“We’re not in the business of selling people,” she replies curtly. 

“So what is all this then? What do you want? You could’ve just taken your horse back. You didn’t need to tie me up and bring me back here,” you argue. 

“Couldn’t run the risk of you staging a breakout again before I could talk to you,” she reasons with a shrug. “Quite impressive, by the way.”

Something made you feel like she was telling the truth, but you still kept your guard up. 

“And what is so important to talk to me about that you had to tie me up and drag me back to this shoebox of a room?” you demand. You narrow your eyes at her and level a challenge to think twice before lying to you.

Maria tells you about Jackson and how they were in the process of rounding up people interested in helping it get off the ground. It was a skeleton crew, and they needed capable people on board if it was going to work. At first you said you weren’t interested, but Maria insisted there was no political hierarchy once you became an established member; your loyalty didn’t need to go beyond pulling your own weight and not fucking anybody over.

You eventually agreed to join. You didn’t have any other plans anyway, and it was at least guaranteed shelter and safety in numbers. You started out as a scout for patrol as well as running supply missions. You were small enough to sneak into places or get a heads up on a site before the rest of the group entered.

You stayed on patrols, scouting, and specialty recon missions until more and more people started to join Jackson, who became your proteges and subsequently highly effective members for patrol and security. It wasn’t long before Maria convinced you to take on the role of community coordinator, and soon enough you served an essential dual role in getting Jackson on its upward trajectory.

You had always been closest to Maria, but you got along with everybody. Practically everyone ended up partial to you in some way because you were the first helping hand they took hold of once they arrived in Jackson. You had trained so many residents for patrol. You had befriended and understood the more skittish newcomers. You were the face that represented the safety of the settlement and the hope of a future it offered; it is one of the main things that would end up cementing you into the township’s hearts.

You never could have imagined this life when you were 15. You’d just had your birthday, and Caroline was plotting how she was going to have a bigger party than yours to celebrate finally becoming a teenager. She never got that party. Your parents weren’t even alive by the time you and Caroline made it to her 13th birthday. The two of you were on the run, escaping the roaming government-looking vehicles rounding people up left and right. You’d witnessed one of them offload every passenger and shoot each one point blank in the back of the head. You didn’t trust any grownups after that.

You avoided FEDRA as long as you could, but it was only a few months on the run when Caroline got sick and needed serious medical attention. You had watched your parents get ripped apart by infected when they gave up their lives to protect you both. Caroline’s shrieks of “Mommy! Mommy, run!” and “Daddy, no! PLEASE NO!!” as you hauled her to safety still rang in your ears when you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. You couldn’t bear losing Caroline. Not when there was a way to save her.

Even as you settle into your role in Jackson and try to start over yet again, you don’t know if you’ve ever once made a correct choice or if it had all just been a long line of wrong decisions on your part that only ended with you sending every person you loved to a premature death.

Joel is overwhelmed by all this new information. He mulls over his drink for a minute and digests everything Tommy just shared. You possessed the skills to survive on your own and in unforgiving weather conditions no less. You’d outsmarted and outmaneuvered an entire group of armed men on horseback. You’d turned your disadvantages into weapons. Tommy watched Joel’s face closely for any hints of something more than just platonic interest.

“Gave your guys the slip, huh?” Joel taunts, hoping Tommy isn’t suspect of anything.

“Eh, I wasn’t around yet, so it’s more like Maria’s guys let a small girl steal their horse even when they had her outnumbered 7 to 1,” Tommy laughs.

“Damn, seven?” Joel mutters, impressed. Tommy starts to shift the conversation, but Joel needed to know more.

“But what about before? I mean, where’d she pick up the skills to get the better of an entire patrol group? And it took a few days to track her down when they went back out to lookin’ for her? Where’d she come from?” Joel felt the mask of casual curiosity slip with his rapid questioning.

Tommy raised an eyebrow and grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mighty interested in gettin’ to know her better,” he gloats.

“Spends a lot of time with Ellie. And like I said, Ellie’s taken a likin’ to her,” Joel counters, trying to disguise his burning intrigue as just being a dutiful guardian. “Just wanna know who she’s hangin’ around with and what kinda person they are.”

Tommy’s grin grew wider. He didn’t believe for a minute that Joel’s motivations for asking about you were limited to Ellie’s well-being. “Of course. That makes perfect sense,” Tommy snarks.

He shot Joel a knowing look and took a sip of his drink. “Well, like I said, I came here after she had been here for, what? Maybe 4 years already?” he estimates. “She joined not too long after it had just got started up.”

Joel’s head drifted slightly to one side, signaling his brother to continue. “I mean, I ain’t ever asked her about it too much. Maria knows her better. Came from freelancin’ type work with Fireflies and whoever else. Never was officially a Firefly or anythin’ like that.”

Tommy tilted his head back as he tried to recall as much detail he could. “I think before that she had been in a QZ doin’ FEDRA stuff. Her and her sister did FEDRA school, I think. Don’t know how they ended up there or why her sister didn’t make it to Wyoming with her. Maria just said how she was really goin’ through it when they first got her to join. Guess it hadn’t been a long time since she had lost her.”

Tommy paused in thought for a moment as he considered your story. It was as if it was the first time he had really sat and thought about it all in chronological order rather than bits and pieces lumped together.

“Well, I guess that would explain why I never saw her baby brother around Jackson,” Joel mused.

“Hm? What’s what?” Tommy turned his attention back to Joel.

“First time we talked she said somethin’ about a younger sibling never listenin’ to their older ones,” Joel explains. Tommy shot him an exasperated look. “I just assumed it was a brother. She didn’t say anythin’ about them bein’ alive or dead or what. I just assumed,” Joel finishes.

Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “Always thinkin’ about me, huh? Might actually find that sweet if I didn’t know how you are.” He clapped his brother on the back way too hard and laughed louder. Joel was still intent on putting the big picture of you together and didn’t even say anything to Tommy about his boisterous, obnoxious antics.

“So, her ‘n her kid sister grew up with no parents, went to FEDRA school, worked the QZ with FEDRA, ended up branchin’ off together to do some under the radar stuff with Fireflies ‘n whoever… Then somewhere along the way it was just her solo when Maria came across her?” Joel summarizes.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up as if they were springloaded. He was taken aback at how raptly Joel had listened and the unsatiated curiosity he had for you.

“That’s it? That’s all you know ‘bout her? There’s not somethin’ else you just aren’t rememberin’?” Joel probes.

Tommy shook his head side to side, trying to determine if it was the liquor that was making him think Joel seemed completely engrossed in you. “I was sorta jus’ givin’ you shit earlier about wantin’ to know her better. I’m kinda startin’ to think you’re actually interested. Very interested.” 

Joel scoffed. “I already told you. Elli-”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just concerned about who Ellie is hangin’ around with. Nothin’ else at all behind the wheel there,” Tommy mocks. Joel rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite meet Tommy’s gaze.

“You know, it may not have occurred to you, but you could always try bein’ friendly and askin’ her these questions yourself,” Tommy points out.

“I ain’t very chatty,” Joel snips back quickly. He didn’t care for the direction the conversation was taking.

“Seem pretty damn chatty to me when it comes to her,” Tommy counters.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mutters under his breath before finishing his drink. “Hate to ruin your fun, but I gotta head out and check on Ellie.”

“Yeah, I guess I’d better go check on Maria,” Tommy concurs.

The two men settled their tabs and headed for the door. It was a quiet walk back, and Joel was grateful for that fact. The last thing he needed right now was Tommy sticking his nose into the situation just to see what sort of a mess he’d made of everything.

As the two men began parting ways, Tommy called out, “Hey, tell Ellie me ‘n Maria say hi.” 

Joel looked back and nodded. “Alright,” he called back.

“Oh and Joel?” Tommy called out again, stopping to face his brother fully. 

Joel paused to turn slightly and look over his shoulder. Tommy had the biggest shit eating grin Joel had seen on his face since they were teenagers.

“Tell your friend we say ‘hi’, too. Figure you’ll be seein’ her sooner’n we will.” Tommy’s eyes lit up in a mischievous twinkle.

Joel scoffed and shook his head before turning back around, shoving his hands in his pockets, and marching home once more. Tommy’s unrestrained cackle filled the street behind Joel as he refused to look back.

“Goddamn pain in my ass,” Joel grumbled.

He wanted to say something back to shut his stupid brother up, but he knew Tommy was right. Joel would be seeing you as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Joel didn’t get that opportunity as soon as he had hoped. You had dodged him before when you two had your fight at Tommy’s, but he had still seen you around town a few times then. This time around there was no trace of you for days. You hadn’t made rounds on the worksite. Ellie asked Joel if he had seen you after three days of your absence.

“Nah, must be busy with somethin’,” Joel muttered.

Ellie opened her mouth to no doubt suggest stopping by your house just to check on you, but Joel cut her off. 

“It’s enough people in the settlement that I’m sure she’s got more to worry about than just us, kiddo. She’ll turn up.” 

Ellie didn’t agree with that assessment, but she also knew better than to argue about it. Joel was surprised when you showed up at his doorstep a couple of days later. You looked like absolute hell. 

“Ellie home?” you ask quietly. Your arms are folded across your chest in a hug, and you don’t quite meet his eye. 

“Hey,” he breathes. “Was wonderin’ where you were.” He stops himself from reaching out for you. The fact that he had done this, had played such a big part in your current misery, made him feel a bit ill.

You offer a detached nod and nothing more.

“We’re, uh, we’re in the kitchen,” he says, ushering you inside. There’s a sort of far off look whenever he gets a better view of your face.

Ellie is sitting very still as you enter the kitchen. She seems hesitant to make any sudden movement that might startle you or scare you off. You hate that you’ve done that to her.

“I just wanted to apologize to you, Ellie. For the other day. It was… not right to put you in that situation.” Your voice was dull. You tried to emote, but something wasn’t working in your brain. You stare at the pencils and papers she has spread out on the table.

“I mean, what the hell even happened?” Ellie blurts out.

You close your eyes for a moment to gather yourself before answering. She deserved your focus and attention, no matter how excruciating it was for you to give at the moment.

“I, um, I guess it just reminded me of something bad that happened to me,” you gulp. “And, uh, I just got scared, I guess, that something like that was going to happen again.”

“Okayyyyy,” Ellie drew the word out in thought. “And Caro- I mean, the girl’s name? What was that about?”

You swallow down the urge to scream or sob. “C-Caroline is - was - my kid sister. And, um, yeah. We had holed up in a barn for the night, and I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been. Didn’t keep us safe like I was supposed to. So she died, because of it. Because of me. I guess I was afraid it was going to happen again. Just got scared. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Ellie’s forehead creased up as she pressed her lips together tightly. She shook her head and insisted with wide eyes that you didn’t need to be sorry. You sniff a laugh. “You’re too forgiving sometimes, kiddo.” Your hazy periphery showed Joel eyeing you with what may have been concern, but he isn’t in focus enough for you to tell. 

“It’s not like that. I just– I was worried about you. Are you.. are you okay now?” Ellie knew the answer, but she still held hope that it would be different.

“Yes, I’m alright,” you lie. “Don’t worry about me.”

Ellie catches Joel’s eye. He jerks his head towards the backyard, and Ellie nods in recognition. “Okay, well. I think I’m gonna head out to the room. I’m happy you stopped by.” She gives you a half hug on your arm awkwardly before heading through the backdoor.

Joel sat down at the table and gestured for you to join him. Still in a haze from talking to Ellie, you slump into the empty seat mindlessly.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Joel asks. 

“Not sure,” you answer blankly.

Joel didn’t like the hollow stare that you fixed on the wall as you spoke. You were coasting between catatonic and indifferent.

“Some nuts yesterday,” you recall. 

“You need to eat,” he says, pushing the rest of his bowl of soup over to you. 

“Not hungry,” you whisper. 

Joel sighs and scoots closer. “Just try it,” he urges, lifting a spoonful to your mouth. 

You feel ridiculous and small sitting there while he fed you like a baby, but you take a bite. It was salty and warm. It was almost an overwhelming flavor and temperature after the lifeless fog the past few days had been.

“Eat,” Joel commands. You sit and scoop a spoonful with a shaky hand as Joel trains his eyes on you.

“You not showin’ up to work?” he wonders in a harmless tone. 

“Just taking a few days off,” you answer quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Anybody checkin’ up on you?” he asks. 

You shoot a forlorn glance in his direction. You are too exhausted to know if he was asking a genuine question or just reminding you that you had no one to turn to. 

Joel recognizes the meaning behind your expression and winces. It was entirely his fault you couldn’t tell whether or not he was being kind or cruel about what support system you had in place right now.

You laugh humorlessly to yourself. 

“What?” Joel presses.

“Just thinking about how funny it is. How you asked whose house I’d go to after a fucked up dream. You know, who I had to give myself over to,” you sneer. “And it’s just funny to me, I guess. Because I had a dream last night. And the night before. The one where Caroline dies. Except it wasn’t Caroline’s dead body on the ground with blood everywhere. It was Ellie. It was Ellie that was dead, and it felt really real.” Your last words came out in a choke.

Joel tensed up at your mixture of detachment and contempt, the latter of which he wasn’t sure was for him or towards yourself.

“Listen, I–”

You interrupt him. “Yeah, I know. I should probably thank you, right? For coming to the rescue. And apologize. For putting Ellie through that. For being a negative influence in her life.”

“You don’t believe that,” Joel protests.

“But you do.” Your watery challenge is barely audible.

Joel rubs his face in his hands. He is to blame for this current predicament. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to help you. He needed to help you. He isn’t sure how to. He was just going to have to come up with something, and fast, and roll with it until some epiphany came along.

“Ellie’s gonna come by after school the next few days to say hi. You’re gonna open the door for her when she knocks. You’re gonna let her in and stay with you for a little bit,” he instructs. 

You nod gently. Your brain is a muddle of hurt and distraction. You aren’t sure why Joel is sending Ellie to your house when he so clearly sees you as a detriment. After your hysterics in the barn, you aren’t so sure he’s wrong.

You feel Joel’s rough, calloused hand grab yours off the table. “Honey, please just–”

“Don’t,” you snip. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as they’ll go. “Isn’t it enough for you to be right, Joel? Do you have to rub salt in the wound, too?”

The screech of his chair legs across the floor is the only warning you get before he’s suddenly very close to you. His other hand is grabbing at your hip and inching you forward. You open your eyes to find Joel’s face looking almost pained, but that can’t be right. He was just going to gloat, wasn’t he? Take his victory lap in his mission to remind you that you were nothing more than a fraud. That your life and persona and impact was nothing more than a facade he was slowly chipping away at.

“M’not rubbin’ salt in– Quit it,” he exhales in frustration. “I know I was bein’ a jerk, but I don’t think I’m right ‘n you’re wrong or whatever it is you’re sayin’.”

You shake your head and laugh without a hint of amusement. “I’m giving you the win, Joel, and I’m staying the hell out of your way.”

Joel jerks you forward until you’re almost off the seat of your chair. His arm wraps around your back and squeezes at your hip with his other hand. “I don’t want you stayin’ outta my way,” he grits.

Your noses are touching. You’re sharing the same heavy air. You’ve missed the smell of him. He feels warm and broad and wonderful. Under different circumstances you might be able to enjoy the sensations he’s sending buzzing through your veins.

“I’m not doing this anymore, Joel,” you whisper harshly.

Joel’s eyes flutter closed. “Please. Please don’t…” He draws you tighter when words fail him.

“Joel, I–”

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I am. I really am,” he insists. “I don’t want you outta our lives.”

“Wish I could believe you,” you choke out.

“You think I’d send Ellie to your house if that wasn’t true?” he challenges.

His lips are so close to yours it’s hard to concentrate. Your mind has been nothing but mush lately, and this is gasoline on the fire. “I don’t know what’s true anymore, Joel. I don’t know why you do half the things you do. I just know that being around you hurts. And I’m dealing with enough of that right now. I don’t need more of it.”

Joel grimaces as you pull away from him and stand. He clambers up to stop you from leaving. “No, wait!”

Your step falters just for a moment, but it’s enough for Joel to grab you by the wrist. “What? I’m leaving, Joel.”

“You… Not until you have some water,” he insists. You shoot him an exasperated look. It was just a ploy to get you to stay, but your cracked, dry lips were a testament to the fact that a glass of water wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He presses his hand and forearm around your back again and leads you to the sink. He rushed to the cabinet and back with a drinking glass, as if you might scurry away if he didn’t get back to you fast enough. His arm curls around your back, and he tucks his hand on your waist, almost to secure you next to him. He switches the tap on with a finger and fills the glass. He lifts it to your mouth. You take it from him with two hands and gulp it down.

“There ya go, honey. One more, alright?” he coaxes. You shake your head at his pleasantries but accept a second glass. His hand is rubbing soothing shapes on your side. It’s intoxicating and maddening. You hate yourself for still harboring feelings for him after everything he’s said to you. As if Joel senses your thoughts, he hugs you closer to his side.

“M’sorry. About everything. About.. about your sister, too.” His quiet words may as well have been yelled at top volume the way they crashed into you.

“I have to go,” you say in a strangled murmur.

Joel looks on as you practically run out of his house.

You finally make it home and drop into a kitchen chair. You stare at the ceiling in a sort of half awake, half paralyzed stupor until the sun sets. You eventually make your way to your bed, only bothering to remove your shoes and jacket before sinking into the mattress. Your mental exhaustion claws at your eyes for reprieve. You can still feel where Joel’s hands had been on you. You knew it was going to be a long night.

Joel tried to not let on how much he was worried about you when Ellie was around. She had gone to check on you after school faithfully each day this week. When she reported back to Joel, it was always the same thing: sitting in complete silence in the kitchen for about 15 minutes while Ellie made sure you drank a cup of tea. Seeing you this way had shaken Ellie up on top of how scary it had been to see you break down in the barn. Joel didn’t know what to do. He could barely concentrate on the build site or patrol shifts.

He still hadn’t apologized for all the hurtful things he had said to you. At least, not while you weren’t in the midst of a disconnected haze. He wasn’t sure if seeing him would be more hurtful than helpful, so it was strictly Ellie doing the check-ins. When she told him that you were almost out of tea, he finally had something he could do. Feeling so helpless was driving him crazy, and it would be a legitimate excuse to see you again.

Joel decided to make a trip to the herbalist and medicinal shop on the edge of town and see if there were any fancy tea leaves that would fix this mess. When he walked in, he was amused for a split second at how similar it felt to your home. Green shriveled up things hanging to dry along strings lining walls and shelves. Jars of this and that. A guidebook lying on the front counter, open to an instructional page on St. John’s Wort - whatever the fuck that was. An earthy, welcoming scent wafted through the air. It was the closest thing he’d had to you since you’d come to his house, and he felt a bit pathetic at how much it affected him.

He missed you. He missed the you before he fucked everything up. The you that had been so patient and kind and goofy with him, gifting him coffee, taking him and Ellie into your own home just to teach them how to cook something. The you that had perfectly crafted a schooling situation for Ellie that now had her thriving in Jackson. The you that had done nothing but give give give, all the while Joel just took took took.

He had to give back. He had to find ways to give something to you. Anything to you. He didn’t even know if you’d accept it, though. Still, he had to try. He owed you that much.

Joel looked around the shop and felt completely out of his element. For as much survival skills as he possessed, plants and herbs were always a weak spot for him.

A rustling sound from the back room drew his attention. The shop owner emerged and seemed surprised to see someone. “Ah, didn’t hear ya! Sorry ‘bout that,” Will apologized.

“S’alright,” Joel replied.

“What brings you by? That blend not working out for ya?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“What’s that now?” Joel questioned, wondering if his bad ear facing Will had him hearing incorrectly.

“The blend I put together for you? You were gonna make it into a tea, right?” Will elaborated. 

Joel had no idea what on earth he was talking about. Will notched his head to the side in confusion.

“I mean - I could have sworn she had said you. Maybe she said Tommy was the one that needed it?” he wondered aloud.  Joel perked up at this development in the situation.

“Oh, the blend? Is that what you said? Sorry ‘bout that, my right side ain’t so great these days. Didn’t hear you the first time,” Joel lied.

Will’s head popped up, a thoughtful finger still resting on his chin. “Oh, no problem, man. Sorry, I know I mumble sometimes.”

“Not a worry,” Joel assured him, desperate to find out what you had been up to. “Well she must’ve told you all about it exactly right because that blend sure is doin’ the trick,” Joel bluffed. Who else could he have been talking about other than you? No one else made any sense. He couldn’t outright ask if it was you, though, not without giving away his ignorance of the situation.

Will proceeded to recount how you had come to the shop looking for some strong sedative agents for Joel since he was getting so little rest and how that was very dangerous for him as he was a regular on patrols. Joel’s muscles twitched under the force of his clenched jaw.

“Course she didn’t mind getting it for you since Tommy is swamped with the baby coming soon,” he rambled. “She’s always been like that. Helps anybody and everybody."

“Well add me to that growin’ list of people,” Joel faked in casual conversation. “I wondered what exactly she’d asked for. I’ll tell ya, hit the nail right on the head.”

Will was an agreeable, talkative man. Warm and friendly. Freely explained how you specifically asked for something very strong since Joel was a big guy and it would make sleep come easier and last longer.

The hair on the back of Joel’s neck stood on end. “Well, it’s certainly been a tough go,” he continued in his charade. He needed to know exactly what you had been given, and he needed to know now.

“Just wish I could remember all the names in the mix. She told me, of course, but I should have written it down,” Joel huffed, feigning annoyance at himself. 

Will was more than happy to give Joel all the details and personally write it out himself. He insisted that Joel stop by any time if he had any questions.

“Come to think of it, I did have somethin’ I wasn’t sure of,” Joel posited. Will nodded and gestured for him to continue. “Is this mixture dangerous at all? You know, anythin’ that could be harmful?” It was the question Joel had been chomping at the bit to ask but had to wait until it wouldn’t come across as suspicious.

Will smiled and assured Joel it was completely safe for a man of his size. “And of course, I know she told you to make sure to not mix it with any alcohol. That’s really the only thing that could be dangerous. Two classes of sedating components is risky.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that. Just wanted to double check. Can never be too cautious these days.” 

He and Joel exchanged a few more friendly words, and Joel bought the first bag of tea he grabbed to keep up appearances before heading out. He thanked Will once more, throwing out a “thanks again, Sandman” over his shoulder.

Joel was hellbent on finding you this instant.

Even if this entire situation wasn’t some sham of yours to cover up duplicitous intentions, Joel knew damn well Tommy wouldn’t put you up to the task of fetching and delivering some unverifiable herb mixture for him. The idea of him accepting some mystery earth concoction and swallowing it down without any question was laughable. 

You’d covered your tracks so poorly it was a miracle this had only now come to light. Considering the fact that you didn’t make a habit of actively deceiving people, it wasn’t surprising that you wouldn’t know how to make your lies more covert.

Joel was a different breed, and he was now on your trail. He intended to untangle every string of facade you were trying to weave.

This was originally 3.6k and ballooned into 8.8k. I debated breaking it into separate chapters, but that didn't feel right to me. So here we are.

It’s most definitely bad-bad-not-good-feelings time around these parts. Sylvia Plath is the penultimate Sad Girl Hours author for me, and her quote seemed quite fitting for this chapter. (If you’ve never had a sad girl era, honestly how the fuck did you even end up here lmao.)

Catch ya later, Puddles

P.S. - Remember to go pick up that SSRI refill at CVS before they reshelve it.  P.P.S. - Be well and take care of yourself, though. Seriously.

[seoafin]

i was rereading chapter 5 of dog days are over and fuck man i just love it so much ik we are all excited for the smut but these chapters before are what make the smut all the more worth it!!! if it was just straight sex without building up their relationship and their dynamic it would fall so flat for me but the way you freaking write geto and his flat smiles and his measured tone of voice anytime he’s slightly displaced or wants to manipulate ripmc to stay longer or eat more food🥺🥺🥺🥺 my heart flutters u can rlly see the cult leader coming in my pookie and my heart starts hurting so muchhhhh have u felt like that when you read a rlly good fic? like ur heart is weightier than before and u can just feel it in ur chest and you’re so nervous but fluttery and geniunly fucking shy as hell too…..or do i just have heart problems omg. when geto asked ripmc if the food wasn’t tasty in front of the waitress to get ripmc to eat while he was ordering drinks my pussy fluttered when gojo said put it all on my card too omg MY MAN RIGHT THERE how do u think of scenes like that scenes that are just so fuckinh them like scenes that until you write them i wouldn’t even think about but then i read them and i’m like fuck yeah geto would not even just geto gojo too and his indiscernible looks i can literally visualize him sitting there with his glasses looking at you and i can feel the weight of his stareeeeew gojo asking for more kisses when yours and getos lasts a second longer i love them so much omg. especially when she’s all like guys let’s keep this a secret and they’re all like ……….fine🤨 JSJWKWKKS so pls take all the time in the world you need to not get to the smut i’ll love the smut but i love these kinda scenes even more. also take some time for yourself to decompress and relax!!! i just love the way ripmc fits seamlessly between the two so bad omg she’s literally their missing piece i’m gonna fucking sob. can i ask? is she gonna tell geto and gojo about the mission that went rlly bad? do they know already🧍🏻‍♀️? omg imagine if they find out nanami knew before them?? also do you think there’s anything ripmc could do to get them genuinely mad and angry cause i was thinking of gojos “you cheatin on me” which btw i literally could imagine him saying those exact words and it was teasing so it made me think do they actually care about cheating? like have they had actual fights about it before geto n gojo? and what would they do if like ugh thsi is so angsty i’m sorry i’m on my period🧍🏻‍♀️but how would they react if like ripmc cheated on them? like a kiss or smt? would they be hurt because their trust was broken or would they be hurt because they think ripmc is theirs? BTW THIS SO MAKES IT SOUND LIKE I CHEATED AND IM JUST SELF INSERTING AS RIPMC I SWEAR I JUST THINK ITS INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT THE SADDEST OF SCENARIOS IF UR UNCOMFY ANSWERING FEEL FREE TO IGNORE PLS!!!!!! anywaysssss i rllly fucking love ur writing so much and i hope you’re having a blast in japan you deserve it❤️‍🩹 i’m so excited and proud for not being like scared to go after what u want u too omg❤️❤️

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU!!!!! can I just say that I LOVE writing geto and his subtle cult leader tendencies in the poly au like YES gaslight gatekeep girlboss (but in moderation lmfao) It's really the small moments where you could think that yeah...this is a guy that totally went off the rails and started a cult lmfao...he keeps his manipulative tendencies but channels them into forcing ripmc to take care of herself and [redacted] he's so awful I love him truly!!!!!

niku also brought up stsg knowing spoiler alert......they know and they definitely aren't happy she talked about it with nanami instead of them. they wanted her to tell them of her own volition, so expect the mission to come back up again in a later chapter lol also for all of ripmc's many faults I genuinely think she can do no bad in their eyes. if she did something it's justified unless it's directly impacted her health as in she put herself in danger and got grievously injured. I can definitely see them getting actually upset and angry with her for that but if anything the repercussions are more like....ripmc being stuck in a room for a week and getting coddled to death until stsg deem it enough 😭

It's not that stsg care about cheating it's more the fact that they are very secure in their relationship with each other and aren't worried about it. gojo might occasionally be annoyed and even pissed when they're arguing about geto being popular but it's never that serious. on the other hand ripmc.... 😭😭 ripmc would never cheat on them and they know it but she's also the most likely to entertain flirtations without knowing someone is flirting with her. when stsg jokingly flirt with another person they're always in control of the situation. they know which lines shouldn't be crossed. they use it as a means to purposefully get the other jealous. sometimes they try to make ripmc jealous and it backfires! another thing is the fact that because the line between lover and friend is so blurred in regards to stsg she doesn't quite understand that there are certain things that only a "boyfriend" gets to do to her which further translates to her not having any sense of boundaries with other people just like she doesn't have any sense of boundaries with stsg. obviously stsg wouldn't be happy about that 💀 if ripmc kissed someone else they probably approached her and asked if they could and she just said yes bc she couldn't find a reason to say no dhjsnfjsndb anyway they'd be more peeved than anything and they'd make it a point to make sure nothing like that ever happens again [ominous]

ANYWAY yeahhhhhhhhh I just think about geto a disproportionate amount aka so much it's unhealthy I'm so obsessed with him

[alannybunnue]

Hope things get better for you. I'm sorry to hear about it.

Anyway, here's a funny ask. I hope it doesn't break the cross-over rule, but if it does, I'm sorry and feel free to ignore it. If all you're reader insert mcs all met each other, how'd you think it would go?

Happy to see you back 🙂. I always love seeing your responses to the asks I've sent in. Hope it's not too many or anything - owl.

O-O

Thank you for the kind comments, Owl, i missed you too :3

Anyway...no, the crossover rule only counts for mostly different stories and universes.

But my girls meeting each other? Do you want chaos to arise before you, mere mortals?

It would be a mix between therapy session without a therapist and a tea party

Most are bonding over their traumas with their...love sick partners and the situation they were put in.

Most of them admire the Queen!Reader, cuz she is the gaslight, gatekeep and girlboss, she doesn't let those crazy m*therfuckers get in her way to rule...and her relationship with Aenys is just 👌😚💖💖

As for poor girls like the Septa and Lady Beesbury, all of them, especially the Mama Bear prepare the torture chambers :3

Lady Strong and Lady Bracken are bonding over their shitty cheating husbands 😔

Stepmama!Stark took it upon herself to be the mother figure for her younger sisters(I am a absent mom guys ;3;) and everyone agrees (Although some act as if they don't need her help or advice...liars 😗)

They also show off their kids, they become friends :3 (Except Lady Morrigen's kids since they are adults-)

Lady Hersy teaches Lady Beesbury how to deal with rivalry between Husband vs Ex-fiance.

All of them worry for the Demigoddess mental health.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Hello hello again ophe 👋😇

So I might have Brian stormed some ideas for murder train and yeah there will be 22 passengers

Those being Lindsay, Beth, Noah, Alejandro, Trent, Cody, Justin, Harold, Kitty, Julia, MK, Nichelle, Chase, Shawn, Topher, Ella, Courtney, Wayne, Dawn, Dakota, Owen, and Geoff (still deciding on whether or not to keep Geoff or not)

And here is the culmination of me and someone (that someone is ferocioustrout on tumblr for the very fresh idea of making Nichelle the murder)

Nichelle and Alejandro are working together to kill Dakota as she is big money. Dakota’s body is found inside of Trent’s guitar case. Nichelle also has beef with Dakota for ruining her career due to Dakota taking her spot in for a major role by bribing or something else. Shawn was the only passenger to notice that Alejandro faked his death due to his knowledge of how bodies decompose. Shawn doesn’t tell anyone due to his zombie paranoia getting to him and thinks that Alejandro might become a zombie. Courtney has beef with Lindsay due to Lindsay being a “rising star detective” as Courtney feels like Lindsay doesn’t deserve the spotlight.

And for ideas of funi ways alehandwalker can abuse his control I’m sorry for saying this but whenever Noah falls he is forced into the family guy death pose 😭

-Ass Stars anon

Hello hello again A.S. Anon! 👋😇

Nichelle and Alejandro gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing their way through murdering Dakota and framing other people for doing so? It's the multigenerational crossover I didn't know I needed until now. (I think Nichelle could be such a good antagonist, especially if she retains her s2 competence, and who better to coach her dive into villainy than the Archvillain himself?)

And of course Shawn would know all about the stages of mortis, given his zombie expertise and all. I'd like to imagine that his paranoia would flare up the moment they realise that Alejandro's 'body' (if there is one) is missing- dead bodies don't move by themselves, but undead ones sure do! So seeing Alejandro 'alive' would just confirm his delusions. Poor guy.

Courtney having one-sided beef with Lindsay because she would make such a better detective is so in character; she's shown canonically to get jealous easily, and she's self-important enough to always believe herself better than everyone (I love her to pieces for it too, we stan a self-confident queen), so watching Lindsay stumble her way through playing detective would have her control issues flaring up big time. Bonus points if, when Courtney inevitably does spearhead the investigation, she fails miserably whilst Lindsay has a major breakthrough.

As for the fic idea; hilarious, but I'm not sure if it'd be feasible to incorporate into the fic itself. Still, I encourage everyone who reads the rice krispies fic to imagine Noah involuntarily ragdolling himself into the family guy death pose every time Owen says "Al" or something (because Alejandro would absolutely use Noah as a pawn in his revenge against Owen, and having his best friend collapse every time he inadvertently annoys Alejandro would quickly condition Owen into becoming less of a nuisance- for Alejandro himself, at least.)

[wispy-ispy]

Miss Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss herself

Song rec of the day ^

[chaserainbows]

@pumpkaboo-spiced replied to your post “Today's life hack is that if you wanna write an OC...”:

So is this basically Mindy???

​this is indeed mindy because if i was gonna pull off the oc disguised as a canon character scam with anyone it had to be miss gaslight gatekeep girlboss herself

[lostacelonnie]

Noelle is just gay as hell for lumine its a fact. You are correct both her hangouts are just them on dates. I always forget people use aether too & then see like. Hangout scenes with him or ayaka's forest scene with him in the inazuma story & go who tf is that oh yeah people pick aether & miss the gay shit. Abyss queen lumine supremacy real i know her jp voice doing abyss lumine is real good. I only know something about faruzan being in a cave for a long time. No context just that. They should give us a fish hangout i want my favorite weirdo to have one. Her & mona have been having real good interactions when they show up together. I read that comic in real time & it was a special kind of hell. I am also a dr fan but talk about it less. Ooooh nice! Ruin serpent isnt the worst honestly but it is slightly annoying. Cryo hypo was my beloathed now its rifthound boss. Had to fight it so much for yun jin & im still not done. Ahh thats entirely fair. I will look forward to your updates! Oh wait do you mean uh. Average avery on here when you mention avery? I dont think i saw a trailerbfor genshin but i did see ganyu & keqing & went alright ill play. & they keep adding hot women so here i am. Rpg style grinding is hard to focus on for me when i could simply not but i do it for my faves. Oh. Also glad to see you are a fellow rangers apprentice enjoyer

HI IM OFFICIALLY BACK FROM THE NORWAY TRIP SO UH. no more waiting 18395092895 years for a response. sorry about that. anyway rigghhhtttt??? its so funny that mhy by making the "canon" traveler male and trying to make his playthrough fanservicey to please That part of the fanbase they also made lumine playthroughs just. lesbian impact. THE AYAKA QUEST IS SUCH A GOOD EXAMPLE OF THIS YEAH. and SO true, gaslight gatekeep girlboss and yeah the jp va's are generally really good. yeah me too tbh??? and that she always calls herself "madam faruzan" and insists shes everyones superior??? no idea what thats about but she seems interesting. YES itd be so fun i can already tell. fish hangout when. SO TRUE i LIVE for the monafischl friendship. the way mona just. accepted that shes gonna get a Lot of weird nicknames. yeahhhh i uh. heard a lot about it. never had the motivation to venture in myself asjdkkgkjjskf. danganronpa rewrote my mind permanently tho. dark times. but i got a lot of friends from that fandom and even keep in touch with some of them. yeah ruin serpent is just kinda annoying, but i have personal beef with cryo hypostasis. the message ab the area round the ch being extremely cold is kind of a meme to me. OUUGH NOT THE RIFTHOUND...... RIP......... hate that one. tho i fortunately didnt have to grind it. and coming back to the trip, it was great! fed some reindeer. ate some reindeer. their meat is SO good btw. saw the northern lights. drove a dog sled. life is good. and yes i do mean average avery!!!!! shes my best friend 4 life. and fairrrrr tho for me it was uh. that one eula ad from a long time ago that got me into genshin? and now i main her so. lmao. i started grinding because of my everlasting love for bianka but now i have no life. rangers apprentice was my LIFE when i was younger omg. pretty sure it was one of my first ever special interests and GOD was it long. still love these books tho i havent read them in a While.

[enviousjam]

Umineko end of chapter 7 closing thoughts (major spoilers under the cut)

Could it be....the clown... was among us all along

I am.....RETHINKING......when I said Battler and Beatrice are shippable. Every single one of the cousin relationships is fucked up now. On the cousin's side they're not to blame (well except George who's a 20-something pursuing what he thought was a 16-year-old) but Shannon continued the relationship(s) fully aware that they were all her cousins/niece/nephews.

Thinking about it simply, Shannon seems naive. Battler made an offhand comment and she took it so seriously it drove her to murder suicide? But when you take her upbringing into account I think it makes sense. All her life she felt like she wasn't enough and that something was missing, and from a young age she immersed herself in a fantasy. Then she finds out that there is a direct reason for her misery, and she could have died but Genji chose to save her. They chose to save her so she could live a life of suffering and gender dysphoria. She probably felt like she never should have been born. I can see that turning someone into a girlboss gatekeep gaslight killer.

BUT

Imagine

What if Shannon or Kanon had quit their job and left the island. And got some freaking therapy and HRT. Could've been so much better. The ushiromiyas would probably still destroy themselves but at least Shannon or Kanon would have a chance.