You sit cross-legged around the laptop screen with your older sister, eating chicken ramen with fried spam, green onions, and elotes locos. As the young, svelte, news anchor gazes into the lens longingly, you pick out a chunk of meat, and sniff. Garlic and Jerk seasoning. A little bit of Rosemary, as well. The anchor tosses her hair and raises her fist, angrily shouting into the camera, which has, at some point in the past few seconds, lowered a few inches.

... and this is why, dear sisters, and of course, our beloved young brothers...

You briefly consider making some mint, clover, and chamomile tea for your older sister. You smile over at her, she's riveted by the livestreaming news show that the two of you have been watching together for the past few months.

We ought to be embracing each and every member of this community of ours, the goddess spirituality 👏fa👏mi👏ly !

As she speaks, her hands move rhythmically, her fingers sometimes signing her words, and sometimes simply tapping at her breasts, or neck, for emphasis. As she says "family", she snaps each syllable, fingers at her third eye, drawing your gaze to hers, and snapping you awake. As she continues, she crosses her arms, tosses her hair once more, and smiles knowingly into the lens.

... and yes, at times, these allies may be a tad ... unique, in their expressions of our goddess' love ...


You notice your sister's toe start to tap up and down quickly.

But sisters, they are our allies, and they have much to teach us, as we do them.

Your sister makes a "tch"ing sound with her tongue, and the toe tapping gets even quicker.

... and so, my dear sisters, as always, I encourage you to hold your brothers to heel, but hold them tight, and love them in every way!


As the anchor finishes her speech, she turns to a college student who resembles her greatly, and kisses him like a lover. Upon seeing this, your sister smiles wide, before moving in on you, kissing your forehead repeatedly, as she not so gently grabs onto your forearms, and pulls your face into her bosom. The warmth and softness of her chest, and the oddly sweet but also very sweaty scents enveloping you, are offset slightly by her needy scratches up and down your slim biceps, and the oddly hungry sounding growls that she's making in between kissing your forehead and hair.

Daddy's drunk and on his pills again. You should sleep with me, he won't be off the couch, and I don't want you around his dirty whores. They're Jehovans...



I'll sleep with you...
Um... Miss Angelique said I should probably sleep with her...