#like I'd like to believe in our allies

[uncanny-tranny]

It's always tempting to debate bigots about their bigotry, but honestly the best thing you can do is often to directly help those affected by said bigotry.

Bigotry doesn't exist to be debated. People who are bigots do not care about debate - they care about humiliating their opponents. You cannot outsmart somebody who doesn't give a flying fuck about their position being incorrect. You will be playing a completely different game by trying to debate somebody out of their bigotry.

The best thing you can do is to show up for the marginalized. Check in on them, talk to them, and engage with them as people. Ask them if they would like help and then respect their answer to the best of your capabilities. Oftentimes, that will be sufficient enough and will go a long way.

#ally advice #the bigot will not rely on trusted peer-reviewed sources. they will rely on charisma and charm and humiliating and degrading the other team #because a bigot doesn't believe in 'you go low and we go high'. like... they're bigots because they choose to go low #so they will use dirty tactics in order to absolutely obliterate your point because you aren't going to be playing the same game #this is why i don't debate transphobes. i will engage in conversation but i do not debate bigots anymore #like do y'all remember in 2016 when the online alt-r*ght started to grow exponentially? that's the same sort of thing #many people argue that debating bigots has the chance of bringing them over to your side but... #...personally i don't really value that as a *sole* strategy or something we should focus our energy on #i absolutely will never debate a bigot because i know the stakes and i know that they'd play dirty (especially if it is in front of others) #inspired by a conversation with my dad where he surprised me with his outlook and views #(i'd assume that we would disagree heavily but no... he actually pretty much completely agreed) #(which isn't a huge achievement BUT we are pretty different people with very different views at times) #(i'm a carbon copy of him but if he came back Wrong)

[magentagalaxies]

having a moment about my gender rn and i'm just like ugggggh @ my brain do we have to. like can we just not

#i need to go to bed soon bc i have a 10am class tomorrow but shoutout to the identity crisis i've been having since at least feb 6th #idk if identity crisis is even the right word. bc like one thing about me is that i have a very solid sense of self #like i know who i am and what i want and how i move through the world and what it feels like to be me #but in terms of how i label and explain that to others? that's where the identity crisis comes in #but no one else gets to experience me in first person POV so the descriptors i use and they ways i present myself are reality to them #and tbh? as i think about how some of the descriptors i use for myself don't accurately describe me some people are getting mad??? #which is so fucking bizarre bc like. what the fuck it's my gender why are YOU being offended??? #but it's also making me low key be like ''wait am i a bad person now????'' #even tho i don't believe morality works like that. idk it's just been an exhausting month and a half #if anyone wants to hear more in depth thoughts on all this i would love to vent about it #(but not rn bc i will be going to bed as soon as i get this all out) #but like what i will say now is even tho this past month and a half has been ROUGH (for several reasons especially gender) #and people might expect that me spending so much time with scott in february made it more exhausting #which is understandable we love scott but touring in general is tiring and also i am the most opinionated person i've ever met but so is he #and also like. if you've heard scott talk about gender it's very obvious we disagree on a lot of things and he doesn't shy away from that #but the thing is. i'd actually say spending so much time with scott (even when we talk about gender. even when we *argue* about gender) #was actually such a good thing for me throughout all of this bc even when we disagree on semantics of labels #scott actually sees me beyond that rather than reducing my identity to what i call myself #which is how a lot of well-meaning allys tend to treat me. like i'm just one thing. #so when i'm with scott i never really have to think about my gender #bc he doesn't treat me like i'm (insert whatever gender people treat me like). he just treats me like i'm jessamine #and i'm tired of having to explain myself into smaller pieces so people can pretend to get it #but i feel like there's no way not to do that in our society rn especially at my ''progressive'' liberal arts college

[bill-the-dog-for-the-check]

I want to go back to how things were.

I want to go back to when I believed that the progressives were on the right side of history, fighting against oppression in all its forms, and had critical thinking, honest compassion, and understanding in a way that the right--inundated with racist conspiracy theories and absurd lies--did not.

In many ways, I'm a perfect demographic fit in the pro-Palestine circles. I'm bisexual. I'm a young university student who's been progressive for as long as he knew what progressivism was, and I never experienced genuine economic insecurity or wondered if I'd eat that night. In another timeline, maybe I'd be there marching and shouting their horrible slogans. But there's one, teeny little thing that ruins it, which makes me fall through the cracks and renders me politically homeless, outcast by the progressive left and the MAGA right.

I'm a Jew.

And I'm trying so, so hard to hold compassion for the suffering of minorities who have not extended us that same compassion. I'm trying to maintain my progressivist urge to go out and help minorities in solidarity, but it's so hard when they make it clear that they hate us and want our state dead and gone. I supported BLM, but Al Sharpton, Leonard Jeffries, Alice Walker, James Baldwin, Louis Farrakhan, Malcom X, Jesse Jackson and many others either were or are wildly antisemitic, especially Sharpton and Walker, and so are the BLM movement's leaders, who openly sneered at Jews for being shocked by them by announcing, "I guess their activism was just transactional. How (((Zionist))) of them!"

And the queer community forced me out of their ranks for merely questioning whether the war in Gaza is a genocide, for pushing back against them saying that Hamas is fighting oppression. And spread antisemitic lies about me, claims of harassment and supporting genocide to my friends because I dared to question them. And they've chosen to side with those who would throw both of us off roofs for being queer. Cast out by the outcasts.

Like, what do I do? Our only allies are Hindus, Iranians, Kurds, Republicans, and Christian Zionists (respect to all of these groups for that... even you Republicans. This is one of our only points of agreement). That's literally it. No loud show of from indigenous nations supporting what is effectively the most successful anticolonial land back movement in human history. No push from "antiracist progressives" against rising antisemitism and genocidal terrorism from a reactionary fundamentalist group against a historically discriminated group.

And they aren't even just leaning back and being silent--many members of these groups are being actively antisemitic--especially the progressive left, which has morphed into the most antisemitic mainstream political movement since the Nazis. Instead, we're 'Zionazis' and genocidal colonizers who aren't even oppressed anyway, that's just evil Jewish Zionist lies designed to stoke sympathy for their unrelentingly evil nature, which we can't even help. The notion that Jews are intrinsically predisposed to evil acts and deception--never heard that one before.

So now, when I look at pictures of Pride Parades, a celebration of an identity of which I am a part and would have previously killed to attend--I wonder... would I be allowed to hold up a rainbow flag with a Magen David on it? If I asked any of their views on the state of Israel, what will they say? What about on Zionists who support its existence? Would all parts of my identity be respected, valued, and celebrated? Or would I be forced to leave the Star of David flag at home, pretend I don't notice their antisemitic views, and pass the litmus test of disavowing Israel before being accepted?

I feel suspicious and wary of the very community which I am 'supposed' to belong in. I feel uncomfortable. I hate, hate, hate that I feel this way. That I've become more closed, more cynical, more angry. Those of us who fall through the cracks, who hold multiple marginalized identities--queer and Jewish, black and Jewish, Indigenous and Jewish--we are ignored and silenced, our voices and experiences entirely spat upon as being a front for 'Zionist crimes' or whatever new buzzwords they create.

I've decided that first and foremost, I am Jewish. The me that was proud to be a part of the queer community is dead. I want to support the progressive causes of antiracism and social justice, but they hate us. They want us dead. They wouldn't view my participation as being a genuine gesture of solidarity, but an evil Jew Zionist seeking to con them and co-opt support in order to aid our evil apartheid genocidal settler-colonialist white supremacist illegitimate entity in a land that should really be given to Hamas anyway.

How am I supposed to hold space for other minorities when nobody is holding space for us right now?

#antisemitism #jewish #jumblr #leftist antisemitism #left wing antisemitism #jewblr #antizionism #progressivism

[doberbutts]

(Some other guy entirely here) I do think there's not much of a reason to be so against the terms tma/tme though, and I don't really understand why some people are? Like, in the same way we want a word to describe our experiences so do transfems, and while I do believe that all trans people are affected by transphobia and misogyny, it's obviously also true that we're affected by it differently depending on how we present, cause otherwise we'd all be satisfied with just the term transphobia (not saying anything new here so far)

So, since it just so happened that the term transmisogyny was coined to mean specifically the oppression transfems face (regardless of what anyone might feel on the matter, that is what it means in practice), what's really so wrong with having terminology to specify whether you're affected by it or not in online discussions of specifically transmisogyny? I'd think that would be relevant enough information, and you're not obligated to share it unless you want to.

I think what's really bothering a lot of people is that these terms exist for half of our community but there's no acceptable equivalent for the other half, and there's constant backlash against attempts to fill that void in the language. But that's not the fault of anyone who advocates for the use of tme/tma, or rather, they are separate issues that I don't believe should be conflated even if the proponents of tme/tma are the same people who are against specific terms for transmasc oppression.

When we do this, from the pov of trans women we are the ones rejecting their terminology and trying to silence them when they talk about their discrimination, and since we know exactly how that feels, I think we as a community should take a step back on the matter and just let it be.

Just because we feel dismissed when it comes to a similar matter doesn't mean we should dismiss in turn.

Not that anyone needs my permission or anything for this but:

I don't really have any problem with the words transmisogyny or trans-misogyny, as I think they are valuable labels to discuss a specific intersection of transphobia and misogyny.

I am not sure I necessarily have a problem with the terms TMA or TME themselves, outside of that I think it is not possible to be exempt from oppression because it will apply to you even if the label itself is wrong. This is also how hate crime and discrimination law works in this country- it is both your label and what the offender thinks of you, not just one or the other.

In other words, the guy who screamed at me about how I'm a Mexican is incorrect because I'm not Mexican, but it is still considered to be discrimination against Mexicans because it was his hatred of Mexicans that fueled the attack. It doesn't mean that actual Mexicans aren't the actual targets or this, but it does mean that it's not possible for me to be exempt from anti-Mexican sentiment. It doesn't mean that hatred of Mexicans doesn't exist, it does mean that if I want to stop getting screamed at for saying non-English words while visibly brown (I said pate, which is FRENCH and not Spanish, in reference to a can of dog food he was buying), then I need to ally myself with Mexicans and see what I can do to help decrease this hatred of Mexicans within my country.

What I do have a problem with is how these words are used and applied.

Caster Semenya is a "TME" intersex woman who was caught by transmisogynist Olympic rulings intended to hurt trans women, and to this day is still not recognized as a woman. How is this exempt from transmisogyny? She is literally being affected by transmisogyny- and interphobia, and misogynoir, and lesbophobia. And there are more examples than that, but this will already be a long enough post.

Moreover, I'm finding a lot of hypocrisy in the theory itself, labeling certain instances of oppression as things only TMA people experience and then refusing to listen when TME people say that they experience it too. I don't really care what or how people talk about their own experiences, but I do think it's a little ridiculous to be told that someone else who is not me can tell me what I experience better than I can. And then refuse to listen when I say that I have felt the hurts they're saying don't apply to me.

If TMA/TME had stayed within the limits you've set, being about descriptors of your own personal experience rather than trying to apply theory to entire demographics in a way that very little other theorycrafting does, I wouldn't have cared. Unfortunately that's not how it's being used and I don't like that.

[ftmtftm]

I've been scrolling through your blog, and I saw your post about discussing the racialized nature of gender. As someone who has several transmasc POC friends, and someone who's a nonbinary POC themself, I wanted to give my 2 cents.

It's important to understand that "woman" in the "man vs woman" gender binary is a colonialist, white supremacist construct, especially in Western countries where you are the numerical minority. My trans friends aren't on T, they haven't gotten top surgery, we are all quite young. But they all have numerous stories about being addressed as "sir" which brings them euphoria but as one person said, while we were making fun of the amount of white people in our club, "Due to my race and skin color, I get masculinized."

And again I'd like to emphasize, that since we're young, none of us really have medically transitioned due to financial and familial barriers. Their hair is long, our binders we definitely have notable chests, and even if they dress masculine, it's notable that no one in our communities would ever gender us properly. It's often white people calling them "sir." Again, I think this reflects how gender performances in mainstream queer communities are deeply White. Like, trans boys talk about having haircuts, but only one of my friends has that wavier, more manageable hair that will help them pass. When you've got curly/kinky hair, the standards are different. For a white person, what's the difference between a "girl" Afro and a boy "Afro"? White cis people have a harder time identifying us, and literally talk to any black girl, and they'll tell you about being mocked, dehumanized, and called "manly".

I don't have much else to say. These are just my personal experiences. But if you want to be an ally to POC in the queer community, this is why it's so fucking important to bring in colonialism/imperialism/white supremacy into discussions of queer liberation. My biggest gripe with ignorant white queers is when they ignore their white privilege, and act like "cishets" (AKA the patriarchal system regulating sexuality and gender) is the only enemy. Because cishet POC deal with plenty of shit with being infantilized, masculinized, feminized, seen as brutish & dangerous, the list goes on. Doberbutts had a post saying, "Believe me, your family's going to care more about me being black than my queerness." towards his white partners. Acknowledging and creating a framework that centers these intersections of queerness and race into your beliefs is true allyship. This is why if you're not anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist, ACAB...I do not think you care for queer liberation. None of us are free until all of us are free.

Please don't view this post as an attack. But this is my perspective, and I thought you'd be receptive to me sharing my lived experiences.

Oh I absolutely don't view this ask as an attack, and I really appreciate you bringing these things up because you're right! Like, just very plainly: You are right and your and your friends lived experiences are extremely important to the conversation on the racialized aspects of gender.

It gets me thinking about where Misogynoir and the social White Fear of Black manhood intersect for Black trans men in particular. Because Black women and Women of Color in general are masculinized by White gender standards and the ways in which Black trans masculine people are gendered in alignment with their identity is absolutely not always done with gender affirming intent. In fact, it's often actually done with racist intent or is fueled by racist bias when it's coming from White people or even from non-Black POC.

That's kind of restating things you've said but differently, it's just such a topic worth highlighting explicitly since it's extremely relevant to the conversation that's been happening about Male Privilege here the last few days.

I do think I know exactly what @doberbutts post you're talking about and yeah. It's just truth. It's something Black queer people have been talking about for ages in both theory and in pop culture (my mind immediately goes to Kevin Abstract and "American Boyfriend") where Black queer/trans identity is both materially different from (neutral) and is treated differently from (negative) White queer/trans identity in multitudes of ways and those differences are worth sharing and exploring and talking about.

Genuinely, thank you for sharing! I try really hard not to lead these kinds of conversations outside of explicitly referencing back to non-White theorists because I don't particularly feel like it's my place to do so, but I will always provide a platform for them because they're extremely important conversations to be had.

#asks #anon #racialized gender #male privilege #transandrophobia

[chronicowboy]

when hozier said "the bliss of not knowin' yourself with all the mirrorin' gone from the world" and when hozier said "i'd still know you, not being shown you, i only need the workin' of my hands" and when hozier said "the soul, if that's what you'd call it, uneasy ally of the body" and when hozier said "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" and when hozier said "if you need to, darling, lean your weight on me" and when hozier said "let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world" and when hozier said "but i know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done" and when hozier said "so someone with your eyes might come in time to hold me like water or, christ, hold me like a knife" and when hozier said "we didn't get it right, love, but we did our best" and when hozier said "as natural as another leg around you in the bed frame" and when hozier said "and have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand" and when hozier said "if i had his job, you would live forever" and when hozier said "the moment i knew i'd no choice but to love you" and when hozier said "you know the distance never made a difference to me" and when hozier said "i can scarce believe what i'm believing in"

#sami rambles #sorry but i absolutely had to do one of these posts and obviously i had to pick one quote from every song u know how it is #unreal unearth #hozier #francesca #eat your young #de selby part 2 #de selby part 1 #damage gets done #abstract (psychopomp) #i carrion (icarian) #butchered tongue #all things end #anything but #first light #first time #who we are #unknown nth #to someone from a warm climate

[vaspider]

Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

Truly amazed at the people whose big takeaway from that thread is "you hate Pete Buttigieg" like buddy did you not... read... all of it?

I genuinely don't give a shit about Pete himself. If you think this is about Democratic self-devouring or whatever the fuck, please mentally substitute Ellen or George Takei or Rachel Maddow or your favorite Other Respectable Gay. I hear some dude named Rubin is even a conservative who is getting turned on for adopting a baby? I don't know who he is and I don't care (do not tell me, I do not care) but if it makes you feel better, substitute any of those names.

I think the ones that actually make me sad are the people who keep insisting that 70% of people support gay marriage, and that I'm just 'acting out my trauma', and we won't see things turn against us, we're perfectly safe now, how dare I say that cishets won't put themselves out for us when it counts, it's different now.

Honey, 99% of people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today, and what they'll support when it doesn't cost them anything has nothing to do with what they'll support when it does. Those of us telling you 'we were abandoned before, and we were the ones who took care of us then' aren't telling you because we're incorrigibly bitter misanthropes. I am annoyingly hopeful, actually, and in love with humanity and the beauty of life. Seriously, I have to write poems about it because I love the universe and all of humanity so fucking much. One of the things I love about humanity is its fragility and its uncertainty. I love the ways in which we fail.

And humans, over and over again, turn our eyes away from tragedy.

If you are lucky enough to have cishet friends and family who will put themselves out for you when it really matters, that is fucking fantastic. That's not nearly universal, and I'm afraid that you're going to find out sooner rather than later that it's far less universal for you than you'd like to believe.

At the end of the day, you can believe me or not about all of this. You can say that I'm just a bitter old transfag, an angry old dyke, a traumatized old queer if it lets you sleep better at night, if it allows you to just close your eyes and say 'this is all going to be fine, because 70% of people support marriage equality!' and get some rest. I can't make you pay attention.

And the thing is? I'd love to be wrong. I would absolutely love for every cishet who has ever said "one of them" or said "well, I mean, I just don't want to see it, they can do whatever they want in private" or whatever to turn out to be the raddest fucking ally the world has ever seen. I know it can happen! My in-laws went from being Baptist homophobes to getting weekly chatty update phone calls from the two trans women refugees from Latin America who they housed and helped get their papers sorted and who are now living in New York and call them Mom and Dad. Like, truly, it can fucking happen!

But you can't count on that from the vast majority of people, because when it comes down to it, most people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today. You're much more likely to be able to count on someone with a dog in the hunt.

More than that, though, the point of that essay -- which, when people miss it, they miss it so hard that it feels deliberate, honestly -- is that all of our bullshit infighting doesn't mean dick. I've been saying that for years, begging people to think inclusively about our community, begging people to stop all the bullshit infighting because I could see this shit fucking coming, you didn't need to be Cassandra to see it coming but sometimes I felt like I was screaming until my throat was horse, the fucking tsunami is coming, it's coming, motherfuckers, can't you see the way the water is pulling back?

And here we are, and all the arguing about whether bi lesbians are "valid" doesn't matter, and everyone's attempt to gatekeep butch and femme doesn't matter, and everyone's arguments about whether neopronouns are bad doesn't fucking matter because we are all just fags, dykes and trannies to them, they do not care for one fucking second about any of this. None of them care for one second about our infighting. No one is going to stop and ask you what your orientation is so they can call you the right slur when they're gaybashing you, kids. They. Don't. Care.

So now here we are, and people are acting like the point of the essay is that I wanted to call one particular dude a fag, rather than that it doesn't matter how perfectly primed you are to fit into Respectable WASP Society, it is your queerness which is objectionable. It is your gayness. It is your transness. It is your bisexuality, your asexuality, your lesbianism. You will never be granted rights and respectability. You have to defend your rights, and stop giving a shit about respectability as a metric of whether or not someone deserves them.

I mean, for fuck's sake, some Iowa voters tried to withdraw their caucus support once they realized that Pete was gay. It literally fucking happened. There's video. Someone they supported above all the other candidates in the Iowa primary was immediately disqualified for them to the point where they tried to retract their support the minute they found out he was gay.

That's the fucking point. I don't care who you use as your Proxy Respectable Gay.

Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART FOUR

i'll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

you're not here to play with the locals.

question, kill, then move on.

fail her at your peril.

were i not merciful, i would slice the skin clean from your meat.

i am nothing if not merciful.

tell me: why shouldn't i run you through this instant?

you are nothing until i tell you otherwise.

nothing even approaching a useful thought in that skulll.

it costs me nothing to spare your sorry life.

i required your silence and you made me a mockery.

save your anger for the enemies.

i will skewer the jeretic with his own silver sword.

don't trust a word out of her mouth.

you were supposed to rush to my defense.

fat lot of good you are.

she could shoot fireworks out of her backside for all i care.

i don't know what just happened any more than you do.

not my usual quarry, not my usual ally.

your faith is your own concern, not mine.

i didn't think you'd react so pragmatically.

in the future, i expect you to be honest.

as if mingling with a horde of goblins wasn't bad enough.

let's do what we have to, then get out of here.

let's not linger in this place any more than necessary.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing.

you bore the pain like a true believer.

i don't think i have the stomach for this.

this place was supposed to be abandoned.

a joy to see a familiar face in such a precarious setting.

a fine mess you landed yourself in.

how better to learn the ways of a people than to live among them.

one should cherish all of nature's bounty, but goblin guts are quite far down the list.

you're a true friend of nature, or perhaps a lunatic.

it's unbecoming to demand honorifics from the one who saved my hide.

you weren't speaking lightly when you said you needed help.

that doesn't mean i can't help.

you have my sincere sympathies.

the magic used is beyond me. it's either not of this world, or so ancient as to be lost to even nature's memory.

the natural order must be protected.

there's no order anymore, only chaos.

chaos is welcome in doses.

i'm practically an expert.

you're either an excellent storyteller or you've experiences something quite exceptional.

i'd be irresponsible not to debunk such a strange claim.

i cannot trust my own mind.

there is great potential within you.

you're looking for solutions in the wrong places.

if we work together, we may turn this around.

until it is found, i will take something precious from you every hour that passes.

silence now, or i will silence you forever.

he's been resilient, but he'll talk.

i will have an explanation, or your head.

i do not wish to spill blood here.

come daylight, we will find a place to end this.

you can accept you're wrong, or we'll be rid of you permanently.

you had every chance to look the other way.

you chose this.

don't expect to be mourned.

she's a liability.

thieves aren't afforded such luxuries.

loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won't you?

imagine what we might achieve if we channeled some of that hostility back at our real foes instead of each other.

#text meme #roleplay meme #roleplay #rpc #inbox meme #inbox starters #bg3 meme #rp sentence meme #sentence prompts #rp sentences #sentence meme #sentence starters #starter sentences

[narklos]

Half-Lore #2: The G-Man Theories

This topic was the second-most voted in the poll! If there's any others you'd like me to cover, just let me know. Without further ado, here's all we know about the G-Man's identity! Take a peek below the cut:

Let me start by saying that not even Valve really knows what the G-Man is. His identity, which has been hinted at throughout the series, has changed significantly throughout the 25 years that Half-Life itself has existed. To get a full grasp of what each theory means, I'm going to give you a rundown of his history in the game's development. I'd say a quick rundown, but I'd be lying to your face. Here we go!

Half-Life The name 'G-Man' actually comes from this game as it's what his model was called. This is a shorthand for 'government man', a shady figure who works within the USA's top-secret projects. Earlier models of G-Man actually featured the Department of Defence logo on his briefcase, indicating that the G-Man was tied to them somehow (or at least pretending to be tied to the government).

It was also heavily implied that the G-Man was the administrator of Black Mesa, as another one of his models from the Goldsource era features the Black Mesa logo on the briefcase. The administrator's role in the game was primarily conveyed through letters, signed with the name L.M. Here's one of the letters, which is welcoming Gordon to the facility (and also confirms that Gordon can speak?):

The G-Man was said to have 'gone to great lengths' to get the Xen crystal sample that caused the Resonance Cascade, which was our first clue that he was responsible for the Xenian invasion from the beginning. Hints from the Nihilanth also tell us that quite a few others are aware of the G-Man's meddling- as well as try to warn Gordon that the G-Man's not human, and that he's not an ally.

You can see the shift away from the administrator identity in Opposing Force, when Adrian Shepard's diary talks of a strange man that showed up a few days ago, and was talking with his superiors. This gives us the sense that the G-Man wasn't a force working from inside of Black Mesa, but rather without it. The veracity of this sighting is a bit up in the air though, as most of Opposing Force has been retconned.

It's safe to say that the G-Man's identity wasn't solid, even from the beginning. So where the hell does that leave us?

Half-Life 2 During development of HL2, the G-Man was still going to be the former administrator of Black Mesa; Breen and the G-Man's characters have always been quite tied up due to their dual development. The face model for G-Man, a therapist named Frank Sheldon, was actually slated to be for Breen's character instead. However, after a Valve employee did a quick edit to the facial captures for Breen, it was decided to give Frank Sheldon's face to the G-Man instead.

At this point, the administrator L.M was retconned, being replaced as the administrator of Black Mesa by Dr. Wallace Breen. L.M essentially underwent a weird sort of meiosis and two characters spawned from one.

We know for a fact that Gordon's 'contract' with the G-Man was something passed around by important players in the G-Man's plan, and bidded on. Breen is aware of Gordon, and believed that he has bought Gordon out, therefore preventing him from futhering the rebellion against the Combine. However, the G-Man was double-crossing him, and Breen died in the final battle when Mossman betrayed Breen and set Gordon free. Though, I wonder what Breen bid for the contract?

Although this means that we got an incredibly well-written and tragic villain, it also means that we're back to square one in terms of G-Man's identity. No more L.M, no more government ties, no more Black Mesa. So what does Half-Life 2 give us instead?

As I mentioned earlier, it was always implied that G-Man wasn't human. The alien identity is played more strongly in HL2, where the link between the G-Man and the shu'ulathoi (Combine advisors) is established. The Vortigaunts are able to hide away from the psychic powers of the shu'ulathoi, as their connection to the Vortessence allows them to take actions the shu'u cannot see or prevent. They also refer to the advisors as shu'ulathoi, as it's a language the shu'u can't comprehend.

The Vorts are the only force shown to be capable of preventing the G-Man from reaching Gordon. During Episode 1, the Vorts save Gordon from stasis, and for the duration of the episode (and for the first part of episode 2, when Gordon is still under the protection of the Vorts), we don't see G-Man at all. Any actions that Gordon takes is completely free of any G-related meddling. It's implied, therefore, that the G-Man's true origin is a shu'ulathoi.

Breengrub The G-Man - shu'ulathoi ties are made even stronger in Marc Laidlaw's Breengrub account. There, Breen, whose conscience has been transferred to a shu'ulathoi host body (the one he mentioned in a conversation with another combine advisor at the end of HL2), recounts the world of the shu'ulathoi.

Powerfully psychic, they could hatch into any form they wished when they left the larval phase. They are referred to as dreamers and philosphers, a society where ideas are currency. At some point, they fell ill to a parasite, making them weaker and easier to conquer. The Combine did so, and kept the shu'u in their grub phases in order to better exploit their powers and prevent them from fighting back. It's implied that the Combine planted this parasite in the first place. It caused the shu'ulathoi to destroy their own minds and culture.

Breengrub explains that a few shu'ulathoi remain on the home planet, hidden and slumbering. A few were even able to escape the Combine invasion. It's heavily implied that G-Man was one of these grubs to escape the invasion. He hatched into the form of a human, and made his way to Earth, orchestrating the Resonance Cascade in order to bring about the ultimate downfall of the Combine at the hands of Gordon Freeman. His 'employers' are implied to be the slumbering shu'ulathoi that remain on his home planet.

So, that's it, right? He's a shu'ulathoi!

Well, not really. This is a rough draft of what Episode 3 could've touched upon, and this isn't anywhere close to canon, as Marc no longer works for Valve (so stop pestering him with emails!). It's safe to say that whatever they were planning back in 2007 isn't anywhere close to their intentions with the G-Man nearly over two decades later, when they released Half-Life: Alyx. Speaking of which!

Half-Life: Alyx I'd like you to keep in mind that HLA was considered a 'soft reboot' of the Half-Life franchise. Rectons were made, new characters introduced, and Eli got a sick new jacket. We can't exactly apply the old canon to this fresher chapter, but we can make inferences. As you all know, the G-Man was captured by the Combine, five years before Gordon was released from statis. His power was so great that they had to literally heft up an entire apartment block to contain him. We don't see him in person for the majority of the game, but we do see him in the Vortigaunt murals, which depict their enslavement at the hands of the Nihilanth, and the G-Man's meddling in Gordon's fate.

(Fun fact! He was originally meant to be there against his own will. Here's some of the concept art that explored this idea!)

Vortigaunts are used to contain his power, and their own Vortessence is sapped in substations to ensure that he can't escape. Whether this is still referring to the shu'ulathoi theory or just tapping into Episode 1's revelations is still unknown.

Something interesting to note is that Eli mentions that "...whatever's in the Vault really hates the Combine". We've therefore established that this soft reboot of the franchise is more clearly establishing the G-Man's vendetta against the Combine. His hatred for Vortigaunts can also be connected to his imprisonment- it's implied he was tortured with their energy!

Hahn, labelled in the files as 'Contractor', is adamant that they "...move the [Vault]" when it's clear that Alyx is going to set him free. She's also implied to be higher on the Combine pecking order than Breen. Her role in the franchise is, as of yet, unknown, but Erik Wolpaw has told us that they've got 'plans' for her. She's clearly aware of the G-Man's role in the rescas, as well as what he's capable of. Maybe she was present at Black Mesa? Maybe the two have made a deal in the past? Maybe she's simply been told that he's dangerous? We still don't know.

"This is great and all, Narklos." I hear you say, rather loudly, at your computer screen. "But what in the Nine Hells does this mean for his identity?"

Truth be told, my inquisitive reader, this reboot has completely thrown any and all theories we may have up into the air. The nature of a reboot is that anything we may know isn't something we can take for granted anymore. Alyx is now under the G-Man's employ, Eli's still alive, and for all we know, Russell could be the next villain. It's an exciting time for theorycrafters who want to unravel gaming's biggest mystery, but for lore sticklers, it's a bit of a dead end.

With the history of the G-Man's various identities in mind, let's go through some of the most famous (and infamous) G-Man theories from the past 25 years.

G-Man is Gordon from the future This is an earlier theory. Obviously the link can be made between Gordon Freeman and the G-Man's names. A funny theory made by players in the noughties, with not much value behind it.

G-Man is Alyx's grandfather This was more of a joke theory talked about by some Valve developers. It was brought about, most likely, when the players discussed how familial G-Man seemed to Alyx, having saved her as a baby. He also seems to really care for her wellbeing, and implores Gordon to get Alyx safely to White Forest. G-Man also calls Alyx "my dear". While it isn't entirely impossible, considering all we know, this theory is definitely false. Still though, it's a nice little analysis of how the G-Man is capable of expression emotions other than smug superiority and quiet rage.

G-Man is a Shu'ulathoi This one's still the most prevalent theory we have today. It's the one most subscribe to due to the amount of evidence, both from the games and from other sources, that we have to draw from. G-Man was a shu'ulathoi that escaped his home planet after the Combine invaded. His employers are the slumbering shu'ulathoi that remain, safe from Combine meddling. He's orchestrated the events of the series and beyond to get revenge for the destruction of his homeworld and kin. G-Man hatched into the form of a human to fool others, and his psychic powers can be attributed to the psychic nature of the shu'u. His strange breathing patterns are due to the shu'ulathoi being unable to breathe in Earth's atmosphere, hence why they all wear breathing apperatus (and at one point in development, the Combine were meant to be replacing the atmosphere with toxic fumes that allowed the shu'u to breathe). Though we've got the most evidence for this one, considering the direction the series has taken, I wouldn't fully subscribe to this anymore, as there's still so much that we could find out.

G-Man is Valve Again, another early/joke theory. G-Man is the embodiment of the Valve developers, following the player around and putting them into 'statis' (i.e: ending the game) when they reach the end of the campaign.

G-Man runs the Combine Another weird one. This probably came about from the confusion behind G-Man's motives in the second game, and how he never seems to fully help the rebels.

G-Man is a Nihilanth This is one of the earlier theories that I can remember, at least. Because the Nihilanth is such a powerful alien, many speculated that the G-Man was also a Nihilanth in another form. However, this theory fell apart when it was revealed that the Nihilanth was actually the last of its species.

And really, that's all we know. The G-Man has been, and will most likely remain, one of the most famous figures in gaming. Ironic, considering how little we truly know about him. We don't even know his name- the one we refer to him by now is simply what his model is called!

Who's to say what we'll find out in the future? Will we ever get what we're searching for? Do we really need to know? Isn't the beauty of a character like the G-Man that we know enough to guess, but we don't know enough to understand? I'll leave that up to you.

If you've read to the bottom, thank you! Here's a video of the G-Man and Kleiner beating the shit out of each other.

#half life #hl2 #gman #half life alyx #wallace breen #dr breen #text post #gordon freeman #half lore

[haroldjamesmacarthur]

Hello, #Tumblr. I apologize in advance for the lengthy message, but I would just like to get my thoughts down because after doing some reflection on myself, I have many.

For the longest time, I have considered myself an ally to the LGBT community. Having a homosexual sister, two LGBT kids, and many LGBT friends and coworkers made me a very passionate ally for this community.

Recently,

I've also wondered if I'm something more than an ally. With the stability of my marriage being thrown into question, joining a website with a large LGBT community, and talking with some of my friends, I've decided to do some reflection on myself, and what I actually want in life.

I can't deny that I lam interested in women, so I never considered the possibility of being a homosexual at all. I was in love with my wife, and I'd be lying to you all if I said that our divorce wasn't heartbreaking. In fact, because I loved my wife I never once thought any LGBT label could possibly apply to me. However, after some interesting events I believe I would also be open to the idea of forming bonds with other men. In fact, I did experiment with another man recently and I enjoyed it.

Quite frankly, If I do end up in a relationship again, I'm not sure if the Gender of my next partner really matters to me. If I had to put a name to it, I suppose Bisexual would be best suited for what I'm experiencing. I didn't know such a term existed when I was younger, so this makes me wonder: had that term existed earlier, would I have called myself Bisexual earlier on in my life? I don't know, but I'm glad such a name exists now. I loved my now ex wife. But through self discovery and joining such a loving, accepting community of LGBT folks here, I have discovered that I am interested in men, too. I'm open to all genders. :-)

So I suppose this is my coming out message. Thank you all for reading.

Harold

#lgbt #coming out #bisexual #gay #businessblr #businessmen #50+ on tumblr #old gays #business men blog too #businessmen on tumblr #business #business men #lgbtq #bisexual pride #50+ and lgbt #50+ and lgbtq #50+ and gay #lgbtqia #lgbt people #gayman #gay love #gay mlm #bi pride #proud to be bisexual #men #i love men #gay ceo #lgbt rights

[decolonize-the-left]

Tumblr socio-political observation time

Identifying with fandoms and movements and brands to validate yourself has led to a society where your interests define you and your character instead of your character defining you and your interests and I think as a whole that's why performative activism is so rampant

(and likewise it's probably why people are so protective of the things that bring them a sense of self and why it's so important those things remain politically neutral and separate from politics but that's another post)

I dont necessarily think it's a Bad as in something that makes you evil but it is bad in that we now have a lot of people doing things in good faith that some are doing in bad faith and all these people are being painted the same because as a whole we arent critically engaging with ideas anymore

As a millennial I know am very much responsible for creating that climate. I think a lot of us grew up thinking that we could shame people into being "good" the same way that we were shamed growing up anytime we had an opinion that differed from our bigoted genx & boomer parents.

It manifested in a lot of ways but one of the prominent examples that most of us will remember is doxxing. Now I want to be clear that I never did this myself but doxxing, call out posts, block lists, etc were everywhere from I wanna say about 2007 to 2017 when I'd say it's status as a common social behavior started to be frowned upon and ineffective.

We were trying to hold people accountable with those actions.

I think that very much backfired. Bigots just got better at hiding and they learned to co-opt our language and mental health terms to gaslight us when we did call them out until those words became meaningless to use. It's simple to not appear bigoted now. Just don't share anything from known bigoted brands or companies and don't follow anyone problematic. Easy.

Cuz those define you and your character, right? Isn't that why y'all still put "supports x" as reasons for your own call-out posts? That's what validates or voids your good person card. At least, thats what everyone made it seem like a decade ago.

The millennial failure was how superficial it all was. We weren't dismantling anything. We were shaming support of x, y, & z as a way of shaming bigots and racist comments and calling them out, but we weren't actually learning to recognize or dismantle racism itself and that's how 10+ years later most of us are watching our kids deal with the same shit we did except now they're also struggling with critical thinking skills inside and outside the classroom.

I think a lot of millennials mixed up righteous anger with doing what's right. Thinking that because we were angry about bigotry and taking it out on bigots that meant we couldn't be bigots. I mean everyone is a little bigoted but not like Bigots™ are bigots, you know?

And then we refused to put ourselves under that microscope or think about that any further. We stopped thinking about a lot of things, I think. We started accepting that we would be told what was okay to believe in or say and I think a LOT of millennials esp white millenials still wait for someone else, especially a Black person to speak on something so they can see the "right" side they're supposed to take.

Someone please learn something from this. This is still very much racist and avoiding the issue is still very much enabling white supremacy.

It will only go away if it's directly addressed.

•••

So I'd like to submit a formal request to bring back one good thing from back then. White responsibility for white supremacy.

Some of us may remember some posts that said if anyone should be responsible for engaging with white supremacists and helping them break down their beliefs it'd be white ppl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that its dangerous work for anyone else to do (for obvious reasons) and besides that white supremacists won't listen to anyone else. And allies did.

Bring that back.

The defensive white retaliation to this idea is seen on any mutual aid post in comments like "fuck your emotional labor, I don't owe you anything" or "idgaf if youre black/disabled/gay/whatever I don't owe you shit." So for the people getting ready to type something similar in my notes: This is a white supremacist defense mechanism that reinforces BIPOC isolation through individualism without seeming malicious on the surface. We all owe each other something tho; it's how a community operates and how humanity has survived for so long. Don't fall for this line of thinking and don't bring that nonsense to me.

White supremacy won't go away on its own and white supremacists sure as hell won't go away by letting them fester behind block lists until they're old enough to run for senator so if you can handle this task then respectfully, do it.

"but white supremacists are a waste of time to talk to" yeah for those of us who they'd rather see dead.

The labor and time it takes to make a white supremacist see you as a human who says words worth listening to so that you can then have a good faith conversation about politics is not WORTH the effort and risk to safety for the people who they hate. Especially not if we're doing it and getting death threats 9x out of 10 or they just wanted us to waste our time and exhaust us out of being effective

So if you are not included in the list of people that white supremacists want dead then it is worth your time and in fact is arguably one of the most productive ways to spend your time.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#i had no business arguing with grown ass nazis when i was a teenager but youre gonna tell me grown women refuse cuz its bad for THEM? #we ALL owe each other something! #grown folks should be volunteering to do this so minors stop feeling like they have ro #my post #whiteness #white supremacy #allies #allyship #sociology #idk how to tag this tbh #rant #observations #colonization #bigotry #activism #millenials #boomers #gen x #gen z #gen alpha

[dduane]

Young Wizards question: how plausible is it for someone to get offered the Oath, have access to the Manual and everything, and just...not go for it? It's probably happened at least once, it's a big universe/multiverse out there, but is it common? I'd assume the Powers don't go around laying out offers if They don't have a good reason to believe it'll be taken, but how frequently do They make that particular mistake?

Though the series as a whole is heavily, heavily reliant on the concept of choice and its value, this particular aspect hasn't been touched on a whole lot.

But essentially: refusing the Oath (or its local equivalent) is a commonplace. There would routinely be plenty of people who (as in less loaded situations) would say "Nope, that's not for me, don't want to be involved..." for any one of numerous reasons: "sounds dangerous," "too much trouble," "clashes with my worldview," "don't want to hear the world could possibly work this way", "I have people who depend on me, what if I did this and something fatal happened to me?"... you name it.

I wouldn't attempt to suggest a local percentage of refusers. And elsewhere, what might be normal for us wouldn't have any applicability as regarded other species. (In fact there are probably some species where there are no refusals... and some in which getting an acceptance is a big deal.)

The issue here is that though the Powers that Be are tremendously powerful, with a perception of human motivation very much assisted by being both native to a more metaphysically-central region of Creation and inhabiting a significantly larger dimensional structure (to which our 3/4D spacetime is much junior)... they are not omniscient. In the event, not even demiurges can be sure, on offering any given being the Oath, what that being will do. The only way to find out is to make the offer and see what happens.

Granted, acceptance is going to be preferable from the Powers' standpoint. More allies in the long battle they're fighting are always welcome. But even after an Oath's acceptance, there's a lot that can still go wrong, or produce complications (as we've seen). If there's an underlying theme to all this, it's that nothing's ever absolutely certain, even for the Powers.

It's almost like real life...

#Young Wizards meta

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo 2023 wrap-up

And finally, after the hectic period of Christmas and the New Year, we are here and ready for our wrap-up!

Warning: this devlog may include some typos. As per usual!

Honestly, I can't believe we are here. This year has been wild for so many reasons. We have made so much progress, perhaps not as much as we would have wanted, but we have come really far. I'm very proud of my team and thankful for the people we have met this year that have made this journey easier.

So...let's see what we have done this year and our plans for 2024!

✦ First of all, we made our itch.io page debut!

And this was perhaps the hugest milestone for us. It got a wonderful reception even if there's nothing to play yet, so we can't be grateful enough for that. This of course includes the key art and the screenshots we managed to get ready for the itchio page!

✦ We launched our official webpage!

Another amazing milestone for us! I remember tirelessly working with Raquel for weeks to get this done the way we wanted it to be.

✦ We welcomed our editor, Allie Vera, to our team!

They are not only a marvelous person but someone I'm having the privilege to learn from. Her editing skills are amazing and the script has done nothing but improve since we got it in her hands. We have started editing together and she has been working so, so hard, I'll be doing my best to keep up. Please send a lot of love their way, because they deserve it!

✦ We began working on the CGs!

Raquel has been working super hard and right now we have five CGs ready and one in process. The last one will likely be ready for next month, and with that the CGs for the demo will be finished!

✦ The UI was implemented and it's fully functional!

For someone who was a total stranger to programming, I think I've done a good job this past year! The game menus finally look like they should (with a bit of changes needed here and there) and everything is working well. I'm sure the code could be optimized greatly, but for now I'm happy with how it is (as my skills are, well, what they are!).

✦ We finished the demo script and have started the editing process!

That was a huge step for us as many changes were done to the script before we could consider it done. We sadly had to cut chunks of content because we felt like, for a demo, it was better to get to the juicy parts and meet the LI's as soon as possible. Some adaptations had to be made, some ideas had to be scratched, but here we are now, with a finished script ready to be coded, and being edited by Allie!

✦ We got some nice backgrounds done!

Work on backgrounds has been slower than we would have wanted to, but taking into consideration we were studying a master (that was pretty hard on us) and there's only four of us, I'd say it's a victory! There's still some backgrounds left, but as Astro and Raquel work on that, there's other areas of the game that keep moving forward.

✦ We opened a ko.fi page!

This was one of our 2023 goals, so high-five!

✦ We met amazing people, made new friends, and learned from a lot of fellow devs!

What a ride has it been! People I used to admire from a distance, enjoying their projects and gushing over them, are now part of my personal life. A lot of fellow devs have come forward in 2023 with new projects, new inspiring and incredible ideas, and we have been supported by all of them and welcomed as if we had always been a part of the Indie visual novel community.

Just to name a few of inspiring and amazing devs, the sweet folks at Foxglove Games (who have released Trouble Comes Twice!), Velvet Cupcake Games and their progress with Made Marion, Best Laid Plain Productions and their amazing work with Save the Villainness, and of course our beloved Crescence Studio with Alaris and Intertwine, which now has an Extended Edition!

As per usual, Lem (Crescence) has a special spot in this devlog because they have been the absolute highlight of this year. What a loving, sweet, amazing and creative individual. We all are very lucky to have them with us, but specially me; their friendship has meant so much for me this year, and I hope we can only grow closer with time! I LOVE YOU LEM!! 💜

✦ On a personal note...

On the personal side of things, I got diagnosed with OCD in late November. I had been suffering the symptoms since July, knowing something was wrong but thinking it would pass. It has changed my life and the way I see things and myself, and I'm on a long journey that has, unfortunately, affected my work on Lost in Limbo. I have not worked as much as I had planned, but I'm lucky to have my friends, my family and my partner, who are walking this path with me.

I'm sharing this because I think it's important. My experience will hopefully give someone who is reading this the push to seek help; I thought it was nothing and I ended up going through the hardest year of my life. Thankfully, I now have the help I need; I have been going to therapy since October, been diagnosed, and I'm now on my way to learn to live with OCD and heal from it. Some days are harder than others, but I'll get there! 💜

On a happier note, Astro and I will be adopting a cat from a shelter very very soon, if things go as planned! Raquel has taken the plunge and opened a sticker store! She has been doing great so far and is overworked but happy. We are so proud of her!

Also, we finally, FINALLY had the chance to get together for New Year's Eve and celebrate together after more than seven years of friendship! Sadly Kayden couldn't make it in the end because of COVID, but hopefully this is the beginning of a lot of years of celebrating together!

Mostly, the team and I have been doing fine, all things considered. Astro wants you all to now that even if he's not very active on social media, he appreciates your support a lot and will do his best to return that love! Thank you all for your support through the year, as always 💜

We had a bunch of goals set for 2023, and my God if they weren't ambitious. This year has taught us a lot about limits, about being realistic with our expectations and with the amount of work needed for a visual novel, and has overall humbled us.

There's one sprite remaining, the LI's expressions, plus one CG and finishing the backgrounds that need a bit more polishing. That and editing the script into its final state and code it accordingly.

With that being said, I want to be positive and say the demo may be ready for April - May, but I don't know if that'll be possible. We made the mistake of being too excited and too positive when it came to the work we would be able to do, and we apologize for that. We are still learning and we hope you can still support us and make this journey with us as you have been doing since we started.

Still, the demo WILL release this year. That is for sure. As we keep working —and the team has been working very, very hard— we'll decide when the demo will release, giving it time to be beta tested, sent to streamers who are interested, etc.

So the main objective of this year is...

✦ Release the demo!

Obvious, right? But with it comes some smaller goals!

✦ Code the script!

The editing process is going well —thanks to Allie who works tirelessly, honestly— so I hope I can step on the gas and get those corrections done as soon as possible!

✦ Finish all the assets!

As soon as Raquel is done with the CGs, we'll start working on the expressions together (I have already been toying with it) and the remaining sprite. Astro will finish the remaining backgrounds!

✦ Open a casting call for our LIs!

We want the demo to be at least partially voiced. When the whole script is done and more or less coded, we'll open a casting call to give our LIs what will be their official voices for the whole game. What an adventure!

✦ Open our steam page!

Pretty self-explanatory, but there it is!

What a year, huh? We have worked so much and so hard while studying, and that studies are now over. This year has been one of self-discovery, of new challenges, of some goodbyes and some new faces and friends. My only wish for 2024 is for it to be gentler to everyone. Hopefully we can all heal from whatever hurt us in 2023, laugh a lot with our loved ones, and learn more about ourselves and our lives in this 2024! 💜

With that being said, thank you for reading once more, and let us hope this year brings us a lot of amazing games and memories! 💜

#lost in limbo #visual novel #otome #indiedev #devlog

[bijouxcarys]

Little Wayward Girl

Masterlist (requests are open)

Summary: As the result of a bet, you must prove to your friend that not only have you experienced the magic of Robert Plant once before, but that he will definitely remember you four years later. Right?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNA

Word count: 9.6k (got a bit carried away)

Tag list: @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @chromations @whothefuckisanja @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull (if you'd like to be added, just let me know!)

1975

I huffed, brushing down my skirt after fighting my way through the hoards of fans that so desperately wanted to get backstage. There were displeased looks from surrounding girls, but it was their bloody faults for leaving a gap next to them!

"What are you looking at?"

"Don't know, but it's got a right face on it," my best friend, Ally, grimaced back at the scantly-clad ginger and her friends beside us.

"'Ey," I nudged Ally, sending her a look of disapproval.

"What, she's being a c--"

"Chill out, you're the reason we're back here anyways."

"Oh, yeah, because you wouldn't have wanted to come back here."

"Why do you say that?"

"To try and meet them, since you have never met them before." Ally smirked at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You're not budging, are you?" I asked her with a sigh.

I could see her lunging for the chance to make some kind of snarky remark, but chaos ensued further when the door in front of us cracked open, revealing a tall and large man with a noteworthy beard.

"Right, can't let all you birds in, as much as we all want you to," the man huffed, scanning his eyes over the huddle.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to place my finger on who this guy was, as he was staggeringly familiar. You'd think after four years, I'd recognise such a man immediately, but it took an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time for it to click.

G! Oh shit, it's Peter Grant--Y/N, you fucking idiot...

Peter, barely giving us a once over, let as many of us through as he could. Ally's hand grabbing onto mine, we sidled past Peter, finally entering the grounds of my mission. With a sigh, I glanced at Ally and rolled my eyes. I can't believe she's talked me into this...

...Earlier that day...

I stood behind Ally in front of the mirror, bobby pin between my teeth as I intricately braided the top layer of her blonde hair, ensuring there wasn't a lock out of place.

"I'm so excited!" she squealed. Her excitement made me grin, a similar feeling rippling through me.

"I just feel lucky that I get to see them again," I said through the bobby pin.

"I'm so jealous that you've already seen them live."

Smirking to myself, I took the pin from my mouth and secured the underside of her layer to the rest of her hair, followed by a thin hairband to secure the end of the braid. "All done."

Ally turned to her side, getting a good look at my handiwork and clapped giddily. She turned and gave me a tight hug, rocking me side to side. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I giggled, patting her on the back before letting her go. I needed to fix my hair. Nothing too special, just a blow-out look that made my hair fluffier and larger. I liked the way it framed my face and sat along my shoulders; I loved the way it hung down my back.

Then again, so did he.

It wasn't that I was nervous to be seeing Zeppelin again in concert, it was purely the fact that memories from the night I saw them for the first time played out very vividly in my mind the whole week leading up to this day.

I did a once-over in the mirror of our hotel room, catching glimpses of Ally shuffling around on the bed, trying to force her feet into the pair of platforms she'd innocently swiped from one of our housemates.

"I still don't know why you don't just wear your own."

She looked at me as though I was speaking cling-on. "Are you insane? I've worn those so many times, as if I'd go to a Led Zeppelin show in shoes I've worn close to a hundred times before."

"If you say so, Al..." I shook my head in amusement. Once I concluded that I was happy with the outfit I had chosen, I decided that now was as good a time as any to tell Ally what I'd been waiting to tell her since we bought the tickets for the gig.

"So... I think there's something I should probably let you know before we head out," I started, spinning on my heel to look at her.

"Go for it," she struggled, falling onto her back with one leg in the air as she pulled on the heel of the platforms.

Amused by her blissful ignorance to the bombshell I was about to drop, I leaned back against the wall. "You know how I've seen them live before?"

"Yup!"

"Did I ever mention that I, uh... met them?"

Her leg dropped, the chunky heel thudding on the ground. "You did what?!"

I grinned, keeping my nonchalant position against the wall. "You heard."

"I'm not sure I did."

"You did," I laughed with a nod of my head.

"But... how?" she breathed out with wide eyes and an open mouth.

I shrugged. "I just found my way backstage with some girls I'd met that night. They're actually lovely lads."

Ally narrowed her eyes a bit, sitting up on the bed. It was like she was analysing my demeanour.

"What?" I asked.

"You're bullshitting me."

"I promise you, I'm really not," I shook my head. "That's not even the most unbelievable part about it."

"Fuck's sake, Y/N, tell me already!"

"You clearly don't believe that I met them, I highly doubt you'll believe the other part."

"Please! Tell me, I promise I won't jump to any conclusion," she pleaded through puppy-eyes.

"Fine!" I feigned defeat, as though I didn't want to tell her the sordid details. "I may or may not... have had... an... encounter..." I contemplated my choice of words. "...With Robert Plant."

"Yeah, right," she immediately fired back.

"See, I told you you wouldn't believe me!"

"You're telling me that you, Y/N, shagged Robert fucking Plant?"

"Well, I did!"

"Lies."

"Just 'cause you're jealous."

"I would be jealous if it were true," she sang, standing up and giving herself a final look in the mirror. "Well," she sighed, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. "There is one way you can prove it to me..."

"I'll be honest, I'm not overly bothered about you believing me or not, because I know it did happen," I said matter-of-factly, heading over to where I kept my bag and taking out the necessary things I needed for the night, sticking them in the deep pockets of my velvety brown blazer-jacket. "Besides," I turned, "he liked my hair. And my tattoo."

"Your shitty tattoo that you did yourself when you were sixteen?" Ally asked in subtle shock.

"Yeah, he said it..." I stopped myself, smirking. "No, you don't believe me, what does it matter?"

"So much for you not caring about me believing you or not..." She sighed dramatically. "Well, if you're comfortable with me shagging Harry--"

"Since when are you shagging my brother, Al?"

"Since you decided that it's not important to prove to me that you shagged the sexiest man on Planet Earth. Apart from your brother, that is..."

"Ew, gross, okay," I groaned. "How am I supposed to prove it?"

With a mischievous smile, she stepped closer to me. "Easy. We get ourselves backstage."

I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

"Unless you don't think he'd remember you..."

Her smugness was irritating me now. It really shouldn't have mattered if she didn't believe me. But the more she was insistent that it didn't happen, the more and more I wanted to prove to her that it did. Just for the petty reason of being right.

"He'd remember me." I narrowed my eyes, but completely knew that I was being ridiculous. The chances of someone like Robert Plant remembering little old me were second to none.

"Yeah, okay," she disregarded. "I'm not considering it until you prove it to me. And if you can't prove it, and he can't remember a single thing about it... I get to have my encounter with your brother."

I groaned again, sitting back on the bed. "Fine. Fucking whatever. But I'm telling you... it did happen, and... h-he will remember."

"You don't sound too sure, Y/N, but we shall see..."

....Now....

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine. The moment was far too long for my liking.

Eventually, his eyes continued their surveillance around the room.

Nothing.

Not even the miracle of a second glance.

I cringed internally, lowering my gaze to the floor. Ally cackled beside me, before patting my back. "Damn, Y/N. Seems like he can't remember little old you..."

"Seems so," I mumbled, running my hand through my hair and shaking my head. Obviously, Y/N. You knew that would be the case.

All I could think back to was the moment Robert looked at me for the first time and didn't just pass me by.

1971

Ugh, you don't belong here.

I stood awkwardly amidst the small group of well-groomed girls that took me under their wing for the night. They were nice enough, and didn't look down on me like a lot of the other females in the audience did.

The hallway was eerily vacant as the final rings of the show erupted in precedence to the roaring yells of adoration. Vicky, who must have been about twenty-two, claimed it was best to get ahead of anyone else that may have wanted to come backstage.

I felt small and irrelevant with these girls. They were tall, beautiful, made-up, decked out, experienced... Everything that I was not. And when we heard an approaching cluster of footsteps, I quickly remembered that.

What are you doing, Y/N? This isn't your place.

My hands fist up into balls, hoping that my decision to extract myself from the situation would go unnoticed.

To my relief, it did. By them, at least.

Taking a few steps back, I initiated a turn, aiming to make a swift exit and retreat home. Perhaps in the comfort of my bed, I could indulge in fantasies of what might have been.

"Woah, easy there, love."

Startled, I collided with a broad chest, and in mere moments, I found myself locking eyes with the man who had elicited screams from thousands of girls just minutes ago.

Speak, Y/N! Don't be an idiot!

"S-Sorry," I stuttered dryly, lowering my head to walk past him. But he stopped me, reaching out to gently touch my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" I looked back at him, and tried my hardest to avoid his eyes. If I looked into his eyes, I'd melt. "You look shaken up."

My eyes darted to the floor, willing myself not to succumb to the beauty ahead of me. I nodded. "I'm fine. Just..." Muscle memory sabotaged my intentions, and I found myself finally looking back up at the blue pools of passion. And I couldn't look away. "I... was just... leaving."

"Already?" He tilted his head to the side as a charming smile took his features, embellished by the endearing tussle of facial hair I had swooned over all night. "Night's just started, darlin'."

His voice...

"Y-yeah, I know," I laughed pathetically, wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow me whole. "You won't..." I glanced down the hallway at the girls I had left, their attentions fully on Jimmy by this point. "...won't be missing anything with me gone."

"Oh, I doubt that. The more the merrier."

I didn't answer him, I just pulled my gaze away from down the hallway and looked back at him with an unconvinced expression.

"Okay, well how about we start again normally?"

I scrunched my eyebrows up. "Wh--"

"Hello, my dear, I hope I don't seem too brash, but I can't help but notice how lovely and alluring your hair appears to be. I'm Robert, the silly prat that's just been jumping around on stage for the last two hours," he gallantly introduced himself with an exaggerated bow and an amused smirk.

My mouth hung open a bit, stumped at his energy. Not at all what I was expecting, but his subtle humour gave me a small sense of security, and I caught myself restraining a smile.

"I know who you are..." I said shyly.

"Yet, still, I haven't had the pleasure of knowing you who are," he pointed out, reaching out to cautiously take my hand in his.

Robert Plant is holding my hand. Robert. Plant. Is holding... My hand.

"Y/N," I managed to squeak out.

Robert grinned, squeezing my hand. "Names out of the way, may I ask why you don't think you'd be welcome?" Smoothly, he began to guide me in the direction of the dressing room where everyone else had convoluted. I barely even noticed, I was so caught up in his mere presence.

"Like I said... Don't think I'd be much fun." I shrugged. Robert's brows furrowed, an unconvinced expression on his face. "This is my first concert," I admitted through a nervous laugh.

"Ah," he chuckled, nodding his head. "I understand now."

By now, we'd stopped just next to the dressing room door. Robert turned to me, inadvertently trapping me between the cool breeze block wall and his heated, tanned body.

"Well, sweet Y/N with the pretty hair," he leaned down, lowering his voice to one laced with reassurance and the slightest hint of something else. "If you'd allow me, I'd very much like to be the one to... put an end to your post-show celibacy."

I swallowed hard, eyes wide as I stared up at his. He certainly has a way with words. So much potential to mean something entirely different. Without another word, I nodded, feeling my palms clam up at the realisation that I had agreed to something I only ever mustered up in my wildest dreams.

1975

Baffled by my own annoyance at Robert's complete lack of recollection, I grappled with the realization that my frustration stemmed from Ally being right and me being wrong. In that moment, I was an inconspicuous figure, a nobody.

Seeking refuge on a plush sofa, I settled into a comfortable spot, keenly aware that the majority in the room would soon migrate to an after-party in the hotel where the band was staying.

My gaze involuntarily returned to Robert, positioned at the opposite end of the room. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, and he was encircled by an eager flock of girls. Observing them, a wry thought crossed my mind – someone among them was in for an unforgettable night.

I couldn't pinpoint why his obliviousness bothered me so much. Was it wounded pride or misplaced expectations? Regardless, the scene before me unfolded like a vivid tableau, and I found myself grappling with a mix of emotions amid the impending revelry.

"What's with the long face? We're literally backstage at a Zeppelin show!"

I looked at Ally, unphased by her giddiness.

"Are you upset that you couldn't get away with your little fantasy?" She pouted. I could tell she had no real intention to upset me, and it didn't. It did, however, make me want to backhand her. In a friendly way, of course.

When I didn't answer, simply looking back over at Robert, Ally sighed heavily and shuffled closer to me. "Listen, just because it's not happened before, doesn't mean it can't happen tonight."

"Oh, sure," I rolled my eyes. "I'd have to get in li--"

Too engrossed in conversation, I was completely caught off-guard when I felt the chill of some liquid splashing onto my bare legs. I flinched backwards and looked up to see a very apologetic John Bonham.

"Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, his voice booming over the chatter. He immediately looked around for something to help, settling on a nearby napkin. "Here, let me..."

I waved him off, laughing nervously. "No worries, it's just beer. I'll survive."

As he attempted to mop up the spill, our eyes briefly locked, and he grinned sheepishly. "Guess I'm not as nimble as I thought. Mini skirts and beer don't mix, do they?"

Still as lovely as I remember.

I chuckled, appreciating his good-natured attempt to diffuse the situation. "Lesson learned, I suppose." As I stood up to mop up the rest of the spilled beer myself, I knew it was fruitless, and I sighed lightly. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of familiar blue eyes from across the room as I turned to pass Ally my own bottle. Wishful thinking.

"There's a restroom to the right down the hallway, love, I'm so sorry."

"You're okay, honestly. It was gonna happen at some point, might as well be by the best drummer known to man," I joked, giving Bonzo a genuine smile. "Be back in a sec," I said to Ally before taking off for said restroom.

1971

"Shh," Robert's lips moved against my jaw as I whimpered. "I've got you, darlin'."

My hips involuntarily ground upwards against the heel of his palm, searching for any semblance of friction. Robert's throaty chuckle tickled my ear with his beard.

"Have to go slow, sweetheart," he whispered. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Y-You won't..." I weakly whispered back.

Robert lifted his head to peer down at me, an unconvinced look splashed across his perfect features. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet Y/N," he breathed.

My hands clasped around the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than him flush against me. His eyes glued to mine, looking into the depths of my soul as he maneuvered his fingers below, tracing the outline of my underwear. "You need to be soaked, Y/N. If you want to take all of me..."

All I could do was nod in response, allowing his lips to cover mine in a searing kiss, his fingers very delicately navigating my untouched centre.

As soon as the pads of his fingers swiped gently over my folds, my hips ground upwards instinctively. I felt like I could unfold, just by his soft grazes.

With a lush swirl of his tongue around mine, he hummed into my mouth. Breaking the kiss with a subtle smacking sound, he gazed down at me with hooded eyes.

I could only imagine how desperate and needy I seemed below him; wide-eyed, flushed, barely touched.

"Am I correct in the assumption that you haven't done this before, Y/N?"

My throat closed up and I swallowed. Shit, I really didn't want you to figure that one out...

I stumbled in my response, diverting my eyes to the side, but unable to escape his ethereal clutches in the form of his fingers. He was still making slow strokes along my weeping folds. Even as he spoke to me with that voice.

"Hm, it's nothin' to be ashamed of, honey." His words came as an encouraging murmur, almost with a sing-song cadence. He put a stop to the movements of his hand, resting it on my abdomen. His head dipped down to pepper small, light kisses along my chin, along my jaw, and then down my neck. "I'll take such good care of you, darlin'..." he whispered. My skin tingled in response to his hot breath against it.

Robert nipped lazily at my neck before dragging his lips back up to mine with a chaste peck. "That's if you want, Y/N. Just say the words, and I'll take you there."

How can I say no?! You could have had me in the fucking hallway!

All it took was a feeble nod and a weakened "please" for Robert to spring into action. His gentle hands took their time in undressing me, and his eyes conveyed a novel's worth of intrigue, admiration, and pure lust.

A carnal desire; I to entrust, him to liberate.

1975

You know, you could just leave right now, and nobody would even notice. Maybe Ally. Shit, Ally. Why did you get me into this situation? Pfft, no, Y/N, it was you, you idiot. But still... you could make a run for it. Crawl into bed. Forget any of this even happened. Hopefully wake up and realise this is just a horrifying dream.... fuck.

The mental argument I was having with the reflection of the bathroom mirror went on, and I couldn't rationalise with myself. I should have left, but I didn't want to. I couldn't bring myself to. Something in the back of my mind told me that it was worth staying.

So, I huffed out, hoping to expel as much of the stress as possible, and did a once over in the reflection.

At least you can't see the beer anymore...

Leaving the restroom, I vowed to make the most of what the evening had to offer, and if that involved being completely ignored by Robert fucking Plant, then so be i--

"Woah, easy there, love."

Turning the corner, I walked straight into that broad chest I'd been ogling at for a majority of the night. With wide eyes, I craned my neck to look up at him.

Shit.

"Not the typical 'hello', but whatever suits you best," Robert chuckled.

"Oh, great, I said that out loud," I cringed inwardly.

There was a horrible moment of silence, of him just looking at me, studying me. It was hard not to revert back to that shy, scared 17-year-old that ran into him in an eerily similar way.

"D'ya enjoy the show?" he asked, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. God, those arms. I remembered how easily he hoisted my legs up with them. How they completely engulfed me when he held me for the night.

I found myself unable to speak. So I opted for a nod and a hum of approval. I was met with the signature side smirk, his dimple deeper than I remembered. Then again, he did have that beard back then. It felt great when he settled his head betw--

"Sorry 'bout Bonzo," he cut off my inner thoughts, "He's a clumsy sod when he's drunk."

I stifled a small chuckle, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his. That's how he captured me last time. Not that he fucking remembers... "Yeah, I know," I answered quietly with a nod.

My attempts at avoiding his gaze were cut short. His fingers rested under my chin, gently tilting my head up so I had no choice but to look at his face.

"I may be tall, but not tall enough that you can't look at me, love."

Jesus, the way he said that...

Swallowing, I pulled my head back. "Yeah, I know."

"You don't say much, do you?" he though aloud with a slight tilt of his head. Proving his point, I neglected to answer. "Were you planning to hang around tonight? We're going to head back to the hotel soon. Could have some fun, maybe loosen you up a bit, darlin'."

"I don't need loosening up. And my name is Y/N."

"Ah, my Little Wayward Girl speaks." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, it's a bit different when you wait outside of the ladies' restroom for someo--wait, what?" My eyes widened once again as I snapped my head back up to look him head on.

Robert's hand smoothed over the side of my head, stopping to cup my cheek as he dipped down to hover over me. Inches away.

"I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" he whispered.

Before he strode back down the hallway, leaving me dumbfounded and relieved all at once, he stole the lightest kiss from the tip of my nose.

1971

Robert's curls were soft and lush against the bare skin of my stomach as he laid facing the ceiling. He watched as the reflections of the sun danced in patterns above him, suggesting the break of dawn.

His arm was hooked around my bent leg, and my fingertips brushed over the mass of hair on his chest. My eyes were shut as I tried to capture the exact feeling of this moment, hoping to solidify the warmth of his presence in my memories forever.

Soon, my fingers were playing with his tussled beard, feeling the contours of his perfect jaw that were hidden under the natural mass.

"Tired?"

I forced my eyes to open. He was gazing up at me. The zeal in his eyes drew a shy smile from me, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night, my cheeks flushed.

"Yeah..." I answered in a hushed whisper, almost hoarse from the extent of which my voice had been exercised throughout the night. "I think you wore me out," I added with a silent giggle.

Robert responded with an amused hum, his hand idly tracing patterns along my thigh. "As long as you enjoyed it, darlin'... Though, I think it goes without saying."

I smirked at him. "How'd you figure that one out, then?"

He pulled himself up and turned over so that he was now hovering over me. Using his forearms to support himself, he pressed his clammy forehead to mine. "Those, sounds, darlin'... such a beautiful symphony." He lowered his head down, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Music to my ears," he whispered. My teeth clamped down on my lips to subdue the idiotic grin that threatened to appear.

"What else?" I dared to ask.

Bringing his lips back up to mine, he melded us together in a searing kiss. His tongue teased my lower lip, but withheld the satisfaction of it going any further.

"Aside from the whimpers, the panting, and the dirty, dirty moans that fell from your pretty little mouth?" He licked his lips, eyes trailing down, his lips following suit. "The way your skin glistened..." He mumbled down my throat. "The goosebumps that you still have, by the way," he chuckled. Then, his journey travelled west and east. "The way your nipples became so taut, so early on." A light kiss to each of them. He continued south, dragging his soft lips and his rugged beard down my stomach until his chest was lined up with my used core. Broken into for the first time by this God of a man. "Then there's the perfect drip of your honey... Never tasted one so sweet, darlin'," he purred, daring to rest the palm of his hand over my mound. "You clenched around me so earnestly. You were so good."

Finally, he tilted his head back up at me. "Does that answer your question, love?"

I was breathless. It was like he was making love to me all over again, only lyrically. Like he did in his music. But for me, and me alone.

I wordlessly nodded, my lips parting in a shaky exhale.

"Good." Robert's playful smile returned, and he turned his head to pepper loving kisses on my thigh. He paid specific attention to the self-modification I made on my thigh. Then, he took a minute to ogle at it. "I like this."

I raised my eyebrow, an amused smirk on my lips. "Oh, the tattoo?" I laughed airily. "It's silly. Don't even know why I did it..."

"It's sweet. A little smiley face, the tongue sticking out." He looked up at me. "Innocent, yet... unruly and defiant. You're like my Little Wayward Girl..."

1975

Ally cackled, right in my face, as I gave her a quick rundown of what just occurred in the hallway.

"Yeah, okay, Y/N," she snorted with a shake of her head.

"I'm telling you the truth, Al!"

"I'm not judging you for lying about it, it's okay. You don't have to keep up with it."

"I'm not lying," I almost whined, running my hand through my hair. I near desperately scanned the room. Where the fuck did he go? It would be really helpful if he showed up and relieved me of this torture! I huffed, crossing my arms in frustration. What if I'm imagining things and what happened in the hallway was all in my head? Fuck, now I think I'm going crazy, thank you, Ally.

"Ally, you know me," I steadily began, "If it didn't happen, and you caught me out in a lie, I'd have given it up by now."

She squinted her eyes at me. "Yeah, but it's not every day you get to make something up about Robert fucking P--oh my god." Her eyes widened, looking behind me. Her hand reached out to grab at my wrist. And before I could turn my head to scope out what cut her off, I felt a steady touch on my lower back and a looming presence beside me.

"I don't believe I've had a chance to speak to you two yet," his distinct, velvety voice rang in my ears as a muffled shock, mixing with the rest of the noise in the room.

"N-No, you haven't," Ally croaked. She was starstruck. Who could blame her?

"I apologise for that. Y'see, there're always so many people waiting for us after shows, it's hard to get around everybody." I could tell without looking at him that he was speaking through his characteristically crooked smile.

"Just being here is crazy enough, I wouldn't even be mad if you didn't notice us," Ally said through a nervous and clumsy laugh. I couldn't withhold my stifled chuckle at her tone, very atypical for her. It was satisfying to watch her cool demeanour crumble with every word.

I could see Robert's head turn in my direction, and I instinctively looked back, my heart banging against my rib cage.

"Well, I've definitely noticed you, now." Even though it was in response to Ally, he was looking directly at me. The hand on my back bared a little more pressure. It was fleeting when he gave me another one of those smirks, before looking back at Ally. "So, how do you know my Y/N?"

My Y/N.

Ally blinked a few times, her eyes darting to me. I gave her a smile, silently screaming "I TOLD YOU," as I so wanted to out loud. I just froze in the moment, letting it unfold as beautifully as it seemed to be.

"U-uh, she's my friend--I'm sorry, you know her?" Ally's voice rose in pitch as he pointed at me.

"Know, knew, whichever suits you best," Robert shrugged. "Uh, when was it, love?" he asked me, once again looking at me.

Finally regaining an ounce of my confidence, I smirked ever so slightly as I answered him. "'71, I think."

"That's it," Robert grinned and nodded. Ally's mouth hung open a little, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Y-you were telling the truth!" she whisper-shouted at me.

"Uhh, yeah," I told her matter-of-factly.

"Fuck!" Ally slapped her hand on her forehead, most likely cursing the fact that she would not, in fact, be in bed with my brother this time tomorrow.

Robert's brows wrinkled in confusion, and he glanced at me. "Wha--"

"Don't ask," I answered before he could finish his question. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it, Ally?" I raised an eyebrow at her, an unrestrained smirk on my own lips now.

"No," she said through a clenched jaw.

"Okay, then," Robert exhaled, taking his hand away from my back to move his hair from his face. "Well, we're heading back to the hotel now," he said to Ally. "You're welcome to come along. However, I will be stealing Y/N for the evening." He looked down at me. "If that's alright with you, love."

Just like that, he had me again.

1971

I was grateful that they had a day off. It meant Robert and I could sleep well into the afternoon before they had to fly out the next day.

Robert seemed to adopt a somewhat domestic demeanour, though I suspected that was just how he was when he wasn't in the throes of making love--be that on stage, or off.

In essence, he dedicated the remaining time I spent with him to after-care. He truly looked after me after making my first time the most memorable, magical, and otherworldly. I couldn't help but let my mind wander, as he disappeared into the bathroom at 3pm, how lucky his wife must have been if he treated the women he didn't even know like this.

Lucky, ha. Her husband is off sleeping with countless women on the road. Luck doesn't seem like the most appropriate word to use in this situation, but anyone who came within a half-mile radius of Robert is naturally deemed lucky.

Lost in my thoughts, tangled up in the bedsheets, Robert blocked my vacant gaze at the ceiling by extending his hand out to me. He'd run us a bath.

He'd taken me there, twice more, in that hotel bathtub. Once with his fingers, once with his cock--and both times accompanied by the melodic moans, grunts, and murmurs of his platinum voice.

By 5pm, he was ordering more tea with lemon and honey to the room. He taught me about the importance of honey when it came to protecting the vocal chords, prompting a detour of innuendo and even more charm.

Out on the balcony, overlooking the city, we both took in the cool breeze. The much-needed fresh air. We laughed over the wind's assault on both of our hair, igniting a playful back and forth over whose hair looked the best all dishevelled and out of place.

Desperate to prove his point of mine looking "enigmatic and resplendent," this led to a series of photos taken on the balcony with the camera Robert had brought along on tour.

"You really do like my tattoo, don't you?" I giggled when he asked me to pull back the robe and maneuver my body so the inked smiley face was on show.

"I told you I liked it, love," he said as he focused on snapping a few shots. "You should, too," he grunted as he stood up, stretching up. "Anything that makes you different, you should love it."

Eventually, he took me as his guest for dinner with his band mates, along with one of Jimmy's girls, and the two men who I quickly got to know as Peter Grant and Richard Cole. My attention was solely on Robert, though, and his on me. Offering me cigarettes, drinks, introducing me to different foods I'd never tried before.

And before he gave me another night of mind-blowing, leg-shaking orgasms, we sat out on the balcony, listening to records, and talking about what music struck him in the heart the way Zeppelin did with me.

He even sang to me. Rough lyrics and melodies, originals that hadn't yet been released to the world. I was honoured. I couldn't believe I was in the right place at the right time. Little old me.

But there I was, sat on a balcony in Robert Plant's hotel room, as he hummed the first or second draft of what the world would come to know as Stairway to Heaven.

1975

I would have been an idiot to turn down another offer from Robert Plant. To deny him of that limousine ride to his hotel, where the others piled in after us. Ally had attached herself to Bonzo, falling into deep, drunken conversations. And in my own tipsy--not drunken--haze, I looked up at Robert and chuckled when the car started moving.

His arm was draped over my shoulders, burning holes into my jacket with the mere graze of his fingertips, up and down my arm.

"So, you gonna tell me how you figured out it was me?" I said up at him. "And why you waited to follow me to the restroom to let me know of that fact?" I tilted my head further back, with me being so close to him.

The audacity he had, in front of all these people, to slide his other hand up my leg, stopping just as his fingers disappeared under the hem of my skirt.

"Honey, a skirt that short leaves very little to the imagination, and can expose your most unique qualities..." he trailed off, glancing down at his hand as he carefully teased my skirt a few centimeters further up, enough to unveil the stamp of innocence that had led him to dub me his Little Wayward Girl.

"And, of course... yer one of the only lasses I've had the pleasure of meeting to have this particular unique quality," he jested with a smirk, before gently squeezing the flesh of my thigh.

He leaned into me, lips parted inches from mine. "Just need to get reacquainted with another treasure hidden away up there, don't I?" He didn't let me answer, he just captured my lips in a searing kiss.

That kiss took us all the way up to Robert's hotel room, where he had me pinned against the back of the door with his lips hot on my neck.

"And you're sure Ally will be alright with--" I cut myself off with a gasp as I felt Robert's teeth steadily bite down under my ear.

"I already told you, love, she's perfectly safe with Bonzo," he said lowly. He kissed where he'd bitten, and dropped his voice to a provocative whisper. "Now, no more about anyone else tonight, Y/N..." Pulling back, he cupped his hand over my cheek, looking into my eyes. "Just us, darlin'... You..." His free hand trailed down my chest, fingers delicately teasing away the covering of my jacket. "And me."

I let him push my jacket off my shoulders, barely feeling it pool around our feet. I couldn't take my eyes off of his, and I fell deeper and deeper into his allure--exactly how I wanted it to be.

"No more distractions," I whispered back with a slow nod.

"No more distractions," Robert smirked, tilting his head to the side. He took a step back and held his hand out. "Come, my dear."

His hands were gentle, but a fiery presence on my skin as he took his time to remove every stitch of clothing from my body. In that moment, I felt like the most sublime creature on Earth. Every inch of my body was doted on, appreciated, cherished...

Robert was still clothed when he took my face in his hands, delicately placing the lightest kiss to my lips. Then down to my chin, my throat, as far as his tall frame could reach without having to bend at the knees. His fingers threaded through my hair, causing my eyes to flutter shut and my thighs to instinctively clench at the thought of him applying pressure to my roots.

"Set the pace, love," he muttered.

"I'm not 17 anymore, Robert..." I reminded him, my eyes flickering down to his lips. "I can handle whatever pace you wish to set," I told him with a confident exhale. My fingers worked on removing his blouse, all whilst distracting him with the want in my eyes.

And I watched as his darkened with something akin to epicurean, sovereign desire.

With an unfaltering stare, his hands gripped my wrists in the process of me pushing his shirt from his shoulders. Bringing my hands up to his lips, he kissed them, almost like a Godspeed to his gallant complexion. Then he let me go, ushering me backwards with maintained eye contact until I had no choice but to sit back on the plush bed.

I took in the delightful view of Robert shrugging off his blouse. My stomach clenched when the veins in his hands flexed whilst unbuckling the stylish belt he had secured around his hips. It wasn’t hard to tell that those jeans were starting to become an issue. The two of us shared a small, knowing smile as he caught me eyeing the obvious bulge.

“You do it on purpose,” I stated, leaning back on my hands.

He had a permanent smirk on his face as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. The heat between my legs fluttered already once his large cock came into view, springing up, proud and prominent. “What do I do on purpose, love?”

He knew exactly what I meant.

“Don’t play innocent, Percy, it doesn’t suit your God status.” I slipped my lip between my teeth, using the well known nickname for the first time.

“God status, eh?” He grinned, stalking towards the bed and hovering over me, steadying himself of his hands. “My, my, where as my Little Wayward Girl gone?”

I glanced down at his lips, shivering internally at how close he was to me. The tension was palpable. Thick enough to saw in half.

“If I remember correctly,” I started in a whisper, gazing up at his eyes. “A Golden God took the time to school me. And he stole away with that Little Wayward Girl before sunrise.”

“And who exactly assumed my Little Wayward Girl’s throne, my dear?” He whispered back, trailing kisses along my jaw. When he got to my neck, nipping and sucking marks into the sensitive skin, my hands instinctively came up to hold onto his biceps. “A Goddess, perhaps?” He breathed hotly into my ear.

The natural sandalwood musk of his body drugged me. I was high on his presence, rendered unable to answer with anything other than a shaky breath.

Robert’s hand moved up to hold the side of my neck, tilting my head in his direction. His eyes were clouded and hooded. Hungry with desire.

“Why don’t you show me what that Golden God taught you, baby?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. In what seemed like a momentary flash, he’d returned to a standing position with me perched on the edge of the bed: face to face with his cock.

Tentatively holding onto the base, I gave the tip of his cock a kitten lick. Testing the waters. I glanced up at Robert, seeing he had one of his huge hands rested on his hip. Like he did onstage. Fuck.

I kept my eyes on him as I wrapped my lips around him, steadily taking his length into my mouth. Cheeks hollowed, I sucked gently, a spark shooting through my core when his lips parted with a sigh.

“That’s it, darlin’. Mmm…” he grunted, shutting his eyes and hanging his head back once I set a satisfactory pace.

I let my saliva coat him, I swirled my tongue around his hot tip, I did anything I could, and more, to work this leviathan into a state of ecstasy. I wanted to see his chest shimmering in his sweat, the rogue blonde curls plaster to his forehead, and the taut muscles under his abdomen tense with an unbearable urge to take control.

He looked down at me, almost taken aback by my boldness when I started to pay attention to his tight, full balls. Flattening my tongue, applying pressure with the tip of it in the right places, even teasing him with the odd suction.

“So perfect… Fuuuck…” he moaned, and his free hand held onto my head. “Damn it, I schooled you well, babe…” Before he lost it completely and cut the night short, he pulled me up to my feet, barely having room between him and the bed. He crashed his lips into mine, tonguing my awaiting lips and grabbing onto my hips with mammoth hands.

My own hands flew up to bury them into his mane of hair, meeting his frantic kiss with a matching ferocity. He leaned down slightly to wrap his arms tightly around my thighs and hoist me up for a brief moment before ultimately dropping me down beneath him on the bed. The kiss was forcefully broken, and I needed more.

Robert kneeled in between my legs, keeping me completely at his mercy. Caressing my face, he studied me intently. As though he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me. His thumb tugged at my lip, and I earnestly took it into my mouth, grazing my teeth over it.

“My girl…” He traced the pads of his fingers down my chin, down my throat, down between my breasts. He stopped to cup them, thumbs teasing over the taut nipples that were electrified from his simple touch. “…you…” His fingers ventured lower, tickling down my sides. “…are…” Up my legs, under my thighs, over my tattoo, to my abdomen. Finally, he reached my centre, adorned with a small mass of soft curls. “A Goddess.”

One hand pressing lightly against my lower stomach, he used his other thumb to venture over my folds. Two little swipes, barely there, drew a gasp from my lips. He acknowledged this for a fleeting second, and smirked to himself when he brought his thumb up to his mouth to wet it. His appetiser.

His eyes were fixed on the sight below him as he placed his hand flat over my mound, pushing against it to open me up ever so slightly—enough to allow the pad of his thumb access to the bundle of nerves that had been throbbing with need for the past hour. He made continuous movements over it with his thumb, taking pleasure from my reaction.

“Sensitive baby…” he hummed, keeping up with his actions. He watched my form twitch lightly, hips automatically rolling upwards, and my mouth fall open.

There was no doubt that he could have made me cum like this. Just by rapidly swiping his thumb back and forth over my clit. He knew it, too. And for a moment I thought that was his goal. But he worked me up to such a high, to where it was impossible to miss the swelling his ministrations enforced and the progressive rise and fall of my chest.

Then he pulled away.

“Robert…” I whimpered, rolling my hips upwards again.

“You were so close, darlin’… so beautifully enthralled…” he practically moaned in response to my whimpers. He grasped onto my thighs, slowly pushing them forward towards my chest so I opened up entirely. “Do you want to cum, Y/N?” I nodded wantonly. “Tell me… let me hear it…” he coaxed, smoothly lowering himself to my thigh, where he pressed the lightest kiss. So, so close to my aching heat.

“I… Please… I want to cum, Robert…” I sighed, toes curling at the anticipation he had built. “Please… m-make me cum, baby, I need it.”

“I know, my sweet… I know…” he mumbled, kissing lower down. Just a little more… “You need it so bad, honey…” His face hovered over my weeping heat, having the sheer audacity to blow very lightly against it. “Speakin’ of honey… does my lady taste just as sweet as I remember…” He drawled, more of a vocalisation of his inner thoughts than a direct question.

“Robert! Please…” I whined.

He dived in, completely catching me off guard. Face buried as far as it could go, lips latching to my swollen clit, suckling, slurping, and flicking his tongue. He slobbered over it like a starving mongrel. His hair covered my thighs, curls bouncing with the movements of his head as he feasted on my nectar.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my hands shooting downwards to grasp onto his hair, tugging at the roots. He responded with a growl, the vibrations adding to the growing sensations between my legs.

He was feral. To him, this was his last meal.

“Oh…God… Robert, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!” I panted, once again allowing my hips to grind upwards in tandem with his tongue. He skipped further teasing by plunging two of his long fingers into me, curling them upwards and building a strong rhythm to match the way his tongue ravaged my pearl. “Y-yes… I’m… fuck…” I incoherently moaned.

Instead of verbally encouraging me, he simply moaned loudly against me, briefly nodding his head, letting me know it was okay to cum for him. He let out a sharp exhale, putting his all into his assault.

Instinctively pushing his head down, I felt my climax hit. Hard. I arched off of the bed and my head was thrown back into the fluffy pillows. I let out an almost animalistic groan, my breath halting in the process as I rode out the intensity of my orgasm.

Robert gave me the courtesy of letting me rest for a few moments, kissing my core in the process of the comedown. With glistening lips, he watched the aftershock contractions, admiring his work. Then he finally crawled back up to me, grabbing my face and meeting my lips with his, coated in my essence. The kiss was sloppy, and we had very little care for the mixture of fluids that covered both of our faces in the process.

“Robert…” my voice was muffled by his kisses. “Need…need you inside…”

“Already on it, darlin’,” he gasped, pulling himself up onto his knees. He eagerly guided his cock to my awaiting entrance, lubing himself up in the juices he’d conjured. He looked me in the eye as he steadily pushed forward, the thick girth of his manhood stretching me by the second.

My body tingled with the reminder of the burn and sting that accompanied a night with the Golden God. It was delicious.

Robert watched my face, looking for any indication of hesitation on my end. But my body welcomed his, and he easily settled to the hilt within me.

“‘S’that feel okay, baby?” he asked with a hurried whisper.

“Uh-huh…” I clamped down on my lip as I nodded.

“Yeah?” He got as close to me as he could whilst still on his knees. Once again, my legs were being pushed up towards my chest, allowing his cock to press against the most sensitive part of my body.

Robert didn’t waste time. He was unbridled. Primal. Insatiable. His thrusts were quick to set an intense pace, eliciting those lewd slapping sounds each time we collided.

“So good… baby…” he moaned, clenching his jaw and breathing heavily from his nose as he continued to fuck me into the mattress. My own moans and whimpers of ecstasy spurred him on, rolling his hips in a circular motion and maintaining pressure on my sweet spot.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, right there, baby…” I keened, having no choice but to fist at the pillow beside my head.

“Yeah? That the spot, darlin’?” He purred, before bringing one of my legs over so that both of them were pressed together. He rested them both on one of his shoulders, one arm holding onto them, whilst his other hand reached out to grab at my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as his thrusts intensified. “Ohhhh… fuuck, you’re so perfect around my cock, sweetheart.”

The positioning of my legs caused every contraction and flutter to be felt with ferocity by Robert. Nobody had ever taken me like this. But then again, nobody is quite like Robert.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, the unexpected rise of another release crawling up through my body. It wasn’t a progressive swell. The warning signs of another orgasm crashed into me, taking me by surprise, which only served to make the experience even more intoxicating.

Robert still had the ability, through his animalistic venture, to flash me that signature smirk as he caught onto my sudden response. He shook his hair from his face as he continued to pound into me. “You there again, darlin’?”

“Y-yeah… oh fuck, yeah, I am…” I whimpered, my chest rising and falling. This was going to be an intense one. And he knew it. So, he moved my leg back to rest atop his other shoulder and leaned down completely over me, folding me in such a visceral manner, though one of my legs fell slightly in the midst of him now slamming in and out of me.

“Come on, Y/N…” he hummed down at me, focusing on my second release before his first. “Show me how hard you can cum, little girl… I know you have it in you… I can feel it…” he breathed out hotly against my lips. His piercing blue eyes were glued to mine, and we maintained intense eye contact.

I huffed and panted in his face, digging my nails into the shoulder my leg had fallen from. It was coming. So close.

“Ah… R…Robert!” I gasped.

“That’s right, honey… you’re almost there… let go… make a mess of me…” He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t care that his thrusts were causing the headboard to start slamming against the wall.

His landscaped pelvis was grinding against my clit, and I could feel his tight balls slapping against me with every movement.

Then it happened.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m c—“ I cut myself off with a shriek, and the loudest cry of pleasure I’d ever mustered up. I came so hard around Robert’s cock, and my nectar wept and wept, soaking the sheets, and soaking both Robert and I. My body jerked and my ears rang, and I heard Robert offer up a breathless chuckle.

“My good girl… fuck! Shit, get ready, baby…” he warned, clasping onto my legs as he chased his high. “Fuck!” He let out the loudest guttural growl, his thrusts transitioning from inconsistent to completely stilled. He steadily and sharply pumped his load into me, filling me up with every inch of his love.

I felt so owned. Claimed. Possessed. Potent with the power and energy of this otherworldly human above me.

Robert writhed in the aftershocks of his release, and he soon let my legs fall back down onto the bed, followed by his own collapse onto my chest. He nuzzled me as we both fought to catch our breathes. I found comfort in the lewd sensations that came with him pulling out of me. I was dripping—soaked.

Robert eventually lifted his head up to look at me and he gave me a long, gentle kiss, accompanied with a sigh. “Sublime…” he whispered hoarsely. “We… definitely need to…get in that…bath, though…” he panted steadily.

I laughed weakly with a feeble nod of my head, “I… absolutely agree…” We had made an absolute mess of the bed, but it was entirely worth it.

“Sorry you only came…twice,” he playfully apologised, shifting to the side so only half of his weight was on me. “Ah well…” he sighed, sweeping some of my damp hair from my face. “Just have to give you…about five next time.”

I raised my eyebrows and turned my head to look at him with hazy eyes. “There’s a next time?”

“Oh, my sweet Little Wayward Girl,” he smirked, “There’s always a next time.”

#robert plant #robert plant x reader #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant smut #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #1975 #1971 #rock music #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #request #70s #1970s #classic rock #writing #writers #writer #fiction #fanfic writer #short story #fanfic writing #bijouxcaryslibrary #fanfics

[purplenidoqueen]

not to mention tme/tma is no fucking gender binary, the groups “transfems” and “non transfems; cis men, cis women, trans men, some nonbinary people, etc” is not a binary at all. if you don’t know what the terms mean or aren’t experienced with transfeminism, that’s fine, but don’t act like i hate men because you misunderstood my feminism.

The reblog that garnered these messages can be found here, and part one is here. Sorry if the tone was too sharp; I'm not super comfy playing defense for those who aren't here to defend themselves, but I'm sure as heck willing to do my best. I'd explained at the end of the post that garnered these responses that I am also a trans woman, but I don't mind that you missed it; I just feel that said experience is something to keep in mind.

Since this was split into two messages I'll have to respond in two parts, so bear with me. While I don't have much of an audience, it's important to me to head this off, so I'd appreciate it if anyone who reads this and agrees with my stances here also walks away with the message of patience and solidarity, and doesn't send messages her way for whatever reason. This isn't a callout and I don't believe in callouts; this is just how the inbox function works.

Anyway! Second:

"If you don't know what the terms mean"… I understand that some find comfort in the terms, but "transmisogyny exempt" and "transmisogyny affected" are years old and have gone through a number of phases. While they were well-intentioned at first, TMA and TME swiftly changed from inclusive terms to exclusive ones, used not only by trans women to exclude others from our struggle, but by others to exclude us from their own struggles. In many ways they are bullshit terms adopted and adapted by terfs and their allies, and when I say they are used to reinforce the gender binary, I mean it. They've been used at length to pit trans men, trans mascs, and AFAB nonbinary folk against us in an attempt to make detransition look more practical.

As for whether TMA/TME has any weight: Do you understand how many cis women have been hurt by transmisogyny? You can find stories about women ranging from Michelle Obama and Lady Gaga to Marie MacGowan, an eighty-six-year-old Irish cis woman with dementia who was assaulted and beaten by a transphobe for over forty minutes straight. Even men and mascs, cis or trans, can be hit by forms of transmisogyny if they don't meet the standards of masculinity to which society holds them! Trans men are routinely mistaken to be trans women and attacked by people who misunderstand the situation because only trans women have the spotlight in this patriarchal society! That's not to mention the complexities of growing up intersex, whether or not their lives were changed without their consent by "corrective" surgeries as infants. The binary of "affected" or "exempt" is too tidy to have much use. Fear-based hatred is too complicated.

Transmisogyny is a form of transphobia, which is at its root a form of homophobia, and we have to understand that segregating each other's experiences into exclusionary groups rather than inclusive ones is incredibly unproductive -- and exactly what the terfs, traditionalists, and other fascists are trying to enforce.

On the subject of transphobia as a whole vs transmisogyny, I was trying not to bring this up, but it's the only way I can think of to boil down my point in a way that matters. This is the post that convinced me to respond, in the hopes of sharing some thoughts and perspective.

Okay. This is important for one main reason: Why do you think it would be bizarre or noteworthy for trans men to react negatively to this tweet? I get the point of it, but it's phrased so poorly. Surely you can understand -- maybe you've experienced for yourself -- the feeling that arises when you try to live your happiest life as your chosen gender, only for terfs and their allies to say "You only feel like a X because you're a failed Y." Where does that stem from? Where does it lead? "Trans women are just men who are super gay." "Trans men are just women trying to climb the patriarchal ladder." It's disgusting! Maybe that's not a perspective that occurred to you in the moment, but that's why queer folk from all corners of the community should communicate our experiences to each other, isn't it? If your feminism includes seeing trans men "react bizarrely" to something you didn't understand, and giving them the squinty eyes instead of asking why, then it can't truly be feminism, because it can't truly be about equality.

This whole TME/TMA thing reminds me of the transmedicalist discourse, or of a decade ago when in some circles you weren't considered trans enough and "made the rest of us look bad" if you couldn't, or didn't care to, pass. Butch transfems, a cornerstone of the culture, used to get run out of social groups for being "fake women". It's all about finding the weakest link and cutting them out, over and over until the solidarity of a cohesive queer community becomes a more manageable series of dogpiles against smaller and smaller fragments of GSR minorities. Fuck that. None of us is worth sacrificing, not ace nor kinky nor enby nor queer.

It's been a long pair of long responses. Sorry for the wait, and for the attention. In any case, to boil my thoughts down in the least productive way possible:

"Individually we are weak like a single twig, but as a bundle we form a mighty faggot!"

#inclusivity #intersectional feminism #transgender #trans pride #transphobia #transmisogyny #tma #tme

[jonquilyst]

Day 28 - Finale

After weeks of battle, triumph, drama, and other teenager shenanigans, it is finally time to crown the winner of Total Drama Sims!!

Our finalists are Lilium Pond and Dahlia Grove. These two have outlasted everyone else and now, all of the eliminated contestants will be coming together to vote for a winner as a jury! Votes will be public, so you will know who votes for who.

Voting will go from the bottom of the leaderboard up (aka last place to the most recently eliminated), and will be confessional-style to make up for those who never had a confessional while on Total Drama Sims. So, without further ado, let's determine our winner!!

14th place - Elli Proudmoore

"Dahlia, we weren't on the same team, but you were pretty interesting and we talked for a little bit, so uh... yeah."

13th - Aubrey De Peyster

"Dahlia! After watching you from the sidelines, I really regret not getting to know you sooner. We have a lot in common! So, please accept my vote as your former teammate."

12th - Kenzie Ritchie

"Lilium! I really wish we could have been on the same team; we would could have been amazing allies!"

11th - Aster Ernst

"Lilium, since I met you I knew the stars were in your favor. I believe the universe has a divine plan for you! So for that, my vote is going to you."

10th - Cassie Fuller

"Dahlia, sweetie! I can't believe you made it this far! We might not have talked much, but teammates gotta stick together, so I'm voting for you!"

9th - Alexis Youngblood

"Dahlia, but only because you tried to save me from elimination. Wish it worked, but... thanks anyway."

8th - Reagan Felix

"Dahlia, when I heard that you come from a strict family and that you were only here because you got on the wrong bus, I was taken away because... well, you just kept going! Also, I relate to having a strict family, so... yeah, I'm voting for you because you definitely deserve to win."

7th - Anika Patel

"I underestimated you, Dahlia, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never thought you would vote for me, but I guess that's what lead to my downfall. I really did feel that we had a connection, though, so I'm still gonna vote for you."

6th - Poppy Sparks

"Lilium! You deserve it, girl! You were one of the reasons why I had so much fun here. I'm so glad I was able to become your friend."

5th - Camden Reese

"Lilium... Yeah, I'm sorry for not liking you at first. Turns out you were pretty capable, not to mention super nice and friendly to everyone. Pretty admirable that your strategy was befriending literally everyone, rather than being a backstabber. I think it worked pretty well."

4th - Terrance Vellard

"Is it even a question? I'm voting for you, Lilium. I'm gonna always have your back, girly."

3rd - Logan West-Harper

"Dahlia, when I first came here I never thought I'd make friends with anyone here, especially since I was having trouble getting along with people at first, but after competing together I really feel like we became great friends. I really hope you win!"

~~~~~~

With a vote of 7-5, the winner of Total Drama Sims is...

DAHLIA GROVE!!!

CONGRATUALTIONS @ashubii !! Dahlia wins the competition and the prize that comes with it! As I said in the casting call for TDS, whoever's sim wins the competition will receive a prize personally from me, and that's you!! (We'll get in touch 💖)

There will be 1 final post to close out Total Drama Sims and celebrate our winner! Stay tuned...

@thebramblewood @comfyinn @mayzie-grobe @chaoticpixls @simsinfinitylt @softle0 @ashubii @void-critters @wastelandwhisperer @seyvia @akitasimblr @micrathene-w @prismaticpotentia @aniraklova

#Total Drama Sims #Alexis Youngblood by thebramblewood #Anika Patel by comfyinn #Aster Ernst by mayzie-grobe #Aubrey De Peyster by chaoticpixls #Camden Reese by simsinfinitylt #Cassie Fuller by softle0 #Dahlia Grove by ashubii #Elli Proudmoore by void-critters #Kenzie Ritchie by wastelandwhisperer #Lilium Pond by seyvia #Logan West-Harper by akitasimblr #Poppy Sparks by micrathene-w #Reagan Felix by prismaticpontentia #Terrance Vellard by aniraklova