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oficmag · 2 years

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Contributor Spotlight: Mimi

Now that Issue #1 is live, we at OFIC Mag are excited to shine a light on some of the amazing contributors from our inaugural issue. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on Mimi | @pcandaa, who wrote “i want to get away (you make me want to stay)” for Issue #1.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

Wow. Head empty no thoughts. Why is this question so hard?

By day I work in gender justice (the field that kid-me said I would never enter), and by night I write sapphic and other kinds of queer fiction, mostly romances, but I've been trying to craft a thriller lately, and it's been interesting. Aside from writing, I like playing boardgames with my friends weekly, trying to convince my knees that I can run cross country again like I used to, and listening to history podcasts. I also do art when I have more than two seconds to spare, and I'm still gunning towards being exhibited someday.

How did you find fandom?

Through Harry Potter, in 2006. I used to lurk on a website called harrypotterfanfiction.com (which afaik is being imported into AO3 now). Then I discovered fanfic.net, and then later AO3.

I started posting fanfic on AO3 for Jane the Virgin in 2016, and wrote fics for All For One (the webseries—go check it out it's cool!) and some other small, niche fandoms.

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

I currently almost exclusively read Supercorp fanfic and do very little else, and I hate to say it, but racism brought me here—I adore Avatar: The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra, but fandom is never really a safe space for fans of colour, and the casual racism implicit in many LoK fics threw me off and stopped me from being able to read most fanfic for it.

I wanted to continue reading decent femslash, but without having to deal with the racism, hence my pivot to a fandom with two white women placed front and centre. I don't watch Supergirl and never intend to, but I've found several amazing AUs that I've enjoyed deeply over the years, though I'll always wish we had the same energy for non-white characters.

My experience with ATLA and LoK threw me off participating too deeply in fandom in general, especially for shows with women of colour, so I lurk and enjoy fanart and not much else.

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

I don't think I have a singular favourite book of all time, but a few highlights over the past couple of years would be:

The Sea and Stars Trilogy by SD Simper: Absolutely sizzling chemistry between the leads of the likes I have rarely read before. Plot is also gripping AF. SD Simper can really tell a story.

Gideon the Ninth by Tasmyn Muir: Gideon is possibly my favourite protagonist ever, she's hilarious and mouthy and butch and unabashedly loves women—I want more characters like her!

The Red Country by jilbrais (Ao3): A stunning prequel to Alice in Wonderland with a gutwrenching story between the Queen of Hearts and the Red Queen—I'd highly recommend it, the prose is beautiful and the story is incredible.

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers: That book was written for me, about me, and that is all I have to say about that. More books about black girls that include whimsy and dreams and the agonising reality of unrealised dreams please! I would absolutely read anything else Morgan Rogers writes.

I also really enjoy Jenny Frame's romance novels, she writes in a way that is so earnest and honest, and she handles narratives of grief and loss extremely well. She's also really good and amping up chemistry between her leads, and of course, each of her books has a butch lead in it, which I absolutely adore.

What projects are you working on right now?

I had a whole thing planned to write more fiction this year and I've since been swamped with research projects and prepping a chapter of my thesis for publication. Some Real World Stuff right there bleargh. Ideally I'd be working on the following original fiction projects:

See Me In Hindsight: A sapphic Ocean's 11 retelling. Featuring cheek and chaos and some family drama thrown in for fun.

Tightrope: A woman waits for her spouse to return, only to find that they've brought their dead twin's mistress to the house. The two women tiptoe around each other, each believing the other to be the enemy, but the true enemy in the house is not who they think.

Untitled Spite Novel: In 2011, a 16-year old is overwhelmed by academic pressure and confides in her teacher. As they begin to grow closer as mentor and mentee, and eventually into something less and less appropriate, the girl is plagued by visions of violence, and the unyielding spectre of a woman with no face.

Untitled Supernatural Romance: Mehreen Kazi is one of the most powerful vampires in Osower and the High Princess of the Osower Council, but she's broken one of the cardinal tenets of the city: no sex with the humans you feed on. But she can't let the girl go, even though she doesn't know who she is and hasn't seen her face, because the dampners at the feeding house prevent her from doing so. Aisha Isa is a mage who's been searching for the secret to immortality, and finds a temp job PA-ing for Mehreen Kazi, who might have the answer she's been looking for. In the meantime, she's part-timing as a feeder for a high-profile mystery client who's broken one of the city's cardinal rules with her, but Aisha's already too hooked on her to care. As the two of them bicker and clash against each other during the day, unknowingly loving each other at night, Mehreen's sister Mira lurks in the background, waiting for just the right moment to see her fall.

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

To experiment with different genres and improve my prose style. I'd love to get published one day, indie or big house doesn't matter, and as a writer based outside the Global North, I know my odds are absolutely stacked against me! But I also want to continue to find joy in creating stories and learning to craft them better and better (and I really, really want Untitled Spite Novel out in the world someday).

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

Write what you like! Write badly! I made this mistake as a young writer because I was too much of a perfectionist to write as often as I needed to. It wasn't till I was in my early 20s that I actually learned to tell a good story because I was writing pretty much anything that came to mind, whether it was good or not, whether I completed it or not.

The more you write, the more you'll understand your own process, the more you'll learn about what to do and what not to do, and the kind of stories that matter to you. Don't think that your stories don't matter just because you don't see other people telling them. They will always matter. Always remember that.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, MIMI! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR WORK WITH THE WORLD.

#bookblr #writeblr #spotlight #issue 1

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astrolo-t · 2 years

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Safe and Sound

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

Word Count: 2.2 k

Warnings: Cursing, Description of a Panic Attack, Reader has The Anxiety, I proofread but there's always the potential for typos

A/N: Hey hey. I’m writing again and it’s fun except for the part where a drabble becomes 2k. The prompt was ‘B finds A having a panic attack on the floor of a public bathroom and shows them various breathing exercises to help calm them down.’ Also, I listened to ‘Personal Cathedrals’ by Aly & AJ while writing this so check that out if you want the vibes. The exercises described are some that I actually use and they can help! And uhhh yea? Hope someone enjoys.

Most times, when Dina asked you to come out, you’d say no. Well, never just no because that was healthy and part of setting boundaries and all that. Instead, what you did was perfect the art of coming up with excuses.

Oh, I have homework to do, sorry.

I promised my brother I’d babysit.

My cat isn’t doing well right now.

You didn’t even have a fucking cat. You just didn’t want to go out. This time around, it also happened to be a particularly bad week for your mental health and your anxiety was being more problematic than usual. You were overwhelmed with work, family, friends, and just life in general. Just the thought of the entire process you’d need to go through in order to go out, made you feel that much worse.

There would be the part where you spent hours psyching yourself up to interact with people you didn’t know, nor like, and even people you did. There would be the whole ordeal of finding a cute outfit, then hating how it fits and wishing sweatpants were acceptable to wear on a night out. Even now, amongst all the vibrating bodies of the bar, you wondered if it was too late to text Dina and tell her your Lyft driver suddenly got a flat.

You hated that you couldn’t be like them. Enjoying the music, the energy, the colors, and lights. All you wanted to do was head home and finish reading your latest book recommendation. Enemies to lovers. Sapphic. AND it was getting spicy. With a sigh you remembered where you were, standing at the entrance searching for your wavy-haired friend.

You eventually spot her seated on a stool at the bar where she was waving you down to join her. Heading over to her, you realize she has 4 shots in front of her, all a very familiar caramel color. Frowning, you say, “Now Dina, you know I don’t mess with dark liquor.”

She rolls her eyes, “It’s one shot babe. Also,” those same eyes travel up and down your figure, nodding in approval. “You look fucking hot, which is perfect because I wanted you to meet my friend tonight. Super nerdy. Huge asshole. Just how you like 'em. Her name is El-”

“Dina!” Stopping mid-sentence she sees Jesse over your shoulder and he greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey you.” She smiles and before you know it, they start doing that thing they do where they forget anyone else is there. You admire the easy smile Dina wears and the way Jesse looks absolutely enamored with the girl in front of him.

Inwardly you deflate a little more because eventually, you’d like to have something like that with someone. Someone caring and loyal, that understands your sense of humor and doesn’t think it’s weird that you name your plants after your favorite characters. Someone who doesn’t need you or complete you, but rather they choose to be with you because life is just that much better with you in it. Someone who cuts out all the noise and makes you forget everything else but how safe and sound they make you feel. Shaking your head you look around the room and back to Dina and Jesse. You suddenly feel…out of place and maybe a little lonely.

Though you’ve just arrived, you want to leave. But that’s not an option you’ll give yourself, no. Instead, you tell Dina you have to use the restroom, racing toward the secluded space before she can ask if you want her to go with you.

Once safely inside the restroom, you head to the sink, clutching the counter and taking a deep breath, shutting your eyes tightly in the process. Get it together. It’s just a few hours and then you can leave. Be a good friend. You will the knot in your chest blocking air to just disappear because you cannot fall apart in a public restroom. Absolutely not. Unfortunately, your body and mind do not sync and you feel the familiar burn of tears welling in your eyes.

“Fuck!” you yell to no one in particular, angry at no one but yourself at this moment. Opening your eyes causes the tears you’d been holding in to drip over your hands, the drops drawing your attention to your knuckles which have gone white from how hard you were gripping the porcelain. Letting go, you take a step back to drop down against the wall perpendicular to the sink and curl in on yourself, lacing your fingers over your knees.

You’re ok. You're ok.

Repeating this to yourself, you ignore the familiar feeling of your throat closing up. You’ll get through this. It’s just one night. Dina will be happy and you won’t have to feel guilty later on. You’re ok. You’re ok. You’re ok.

But I’m not. I’m not ok.

Just then, you hear someone step into the restroom. You keep your head down on your knees, hoping they’ll just ignore you. Nothing to see here. Just me, your local fucking trainwreck. However, instead of ignoring you they immediately stop their stride, noticing you there on the ground.

“Hey…” the voice starts hesitantly, “are you ok? Do you need help?”

You open your mouth to answer but all that comes out is a choked sob.

“Woah woah hey ok-”

You hear the sound of someone quickly stepping in front of you. Opening your eyes you’re met with a pair of worn black and white converse. Slowly you raise your head, your eyes trailing up a pair of jean clad legs until they meet green ones. Such eyes belong to a girl with auburn hair pulled into a bun, a few strands framing the left side of her face. With a furrowed brow, she looks concerned and maybe a little unsure.

“I-I c-can’t.” You shake your head, “I can’t” is all you can get out before your breathing starts to quicken even more.

The girl immediately drops down to sit cross legged in front of you.

“Shh, alright, ok. Listen, can I see your hand?” She asks in a voice so low and feather-light, almost as if she was afraid to scare you.

You hesitate, your lips turned into a frown before shakily unlacing your fingers to offer your right one to her. She takes your hand, turning it palm side up. Then, she begins drawing on your hand with the tip of her right index finger; it’s a shape you recognize as a rectangle.

“So basically, you inhale on the shorter lines and exhale on the longer ones. Try this with me?”

You try to follow, taking a few shaky breaths before becoming frustrated when you’re unable to match hers. You move to take your hand away, but she holds onto it.

“Hey, just…look at me? Please?”

Your tear filled eyes meet green again, noticing the sprinkle of freckles that fall like snow all the way down to her lips. You watch her mouth as she breathes in and out, and slowly you find your breathing matching hers; the finger on your hand keeping time. After each breath, a little more doubt and fear is released. Time slows, and finally, your heart rate begins to ease and that huge lump becomes smaller and smaller.

“See? There you go. You’re doing perfect...” She says with a soft smile on those lips as she continues to draw while you breathe.

“My therapist she uhh- she calls this rectangle breathing, which sounded really stupid to me at first….” She shrugs before continuing. “but it works. For me, most times I try just playing my guitar or describing things in the room. You know…until I can breathe again. For example,” Her eyes wander up, looking just past your face. “Your earrings are gold and shaped like stars. ” She visibly swallows and licks her lips before continuing. “Your eyes are…” Fucking beautiful, is what she wants to say. Because even with tears in them she is startled in the best way by your gaze.

“Anyways,” She says suddenly clearing her throat. “you can describe things in detail like that or just point out random things like-” She scans the room before her brows scrunch together in disgust and she shakes her head, those few rebellious strands of hair shaking with it. “how these bathrooms smell like ass and there’s definitely a used condom on the floor in the first stall.”

Your eyebrows raise up, eyes following hers over to the stall, and there it was. A condom that was most certainly…used.

Now that’s fucking gross.

She laughs and it’s then you realize you’d said that out loud. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Every time I let my friends choose the bar it’s always a little suspect honestly. I have much better taste.” She says with a grin.

“Where-” you clear your throat, voice gravely from crying, “Where would you have picked?”

“Dunno, but definitely somewhere more….” she closes her eyes and feigns being in deep thought “fuck, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Fun? Clean? Gay?”

“Yes that's the one-” she says without missing a beat and you actually let out a giggle and she joins you laughing. “While I would definitely feel more comfortable at a gay bar - right now I’d much rather be at home. At least tonight.”

“That’s fair. I mean…who says you have to stay? You’re under no obligation to.”

“This is true, but I always feel like I’m letting people down because of my inability to just…be a person.”

The girl nods thoughtfully, “Hey I get it - but the lady I’m paying to make sure I don’t lose my shit says you can’t pour from an empty cup. Gotta take care of yourself and all that, which includes not coming to shitty bars when you’re not up to it.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling somewhat scolded. But she was right, unfortunately. “You always this blunt with strangers?”

She chuckles a bit before lifting her gaze from your interlocked hands to meet yours, “Just the pretty ones who I happen to meet on the restroom floor.”

“Charming.”

“My name is Ellie but hey, I’ll take it. ”

You look at her horrified, using your free hand to wipe any leftover tears in your eyes, “I actually can’t believe you just said that.”

“Oh come on, you liked it. You smiled. You’re smiling now.”

And she was right. You were smiling. She’d stopped drawing on your hand a while ago. But there it was still clasped in hers, her thumb rubbing against your palm absentmindedly. It felt warm, and safe. And yea ok, maybe you did like it. Maybe you did like this girl who had been so sweet and attentive with you just moments ago and yet now flirted with you so brazenly. “Hey…you wanna get out of here….?” She trails off, waiting for you to finish her sentence.

“Y/N.”

Ellie smiles at that and says again, “You wanna get out of here, Y/N?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Jesse and Dina had drunk all four shots and maybe a bit more by the time you and Ellie find them again. Dina is laughing at something Jesse said - probably not that funny without the influence of alcohol - when she sees you two approach. She seems confused and then even more so when her eyes come to rest in between the two of you, where Ellie’s fingers lay laced through your own.

“Y/N,” Dina starts slowly, almost questioningly. “this is who I wanted you to meet. This is Ellie. But I see you’ve already made acquaintances.” She said pointing an accusatory finger directly at your laced lands. You move to unlace them, embarrassed, but Ellie just holds on and gives them a squeeze still staring at Dina. “We’re gonna head out Dina.”

Dina looks shocked sharing an incredulous look with Jesse before turning back to you. “Well, damn that was easy.”

“To talk, D. Somewhere where we can actually hear one another.”

“Yea go ahead and talk. Jesse and I love talking, don't we?” She smirks up at Jesse who just shakes his head and chuckles.

Ellie simply rolls her eyes at your mutual friends, tugging on your hand and when your eyes meet her own she says, “You with me?”

And you were. You didn’t know it then, and you wouldn’t know it for a long time but, you always would be. Ellie had come into your life and grounded you with her soft whispers and careful touches. She came and stayed despite seeing you at your lowest, because she chose you. And you chose her and always would, again and again.

She was your solace. Your stillness. Your safe and sound.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou 2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou part ii #ellie imagine #tia wrote something wow

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tamiettitami · 3 years

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for this month's recommendations, i decided to go with the theme KISSES GALORE in honour of valentine's day. all of the below works have been posted in the month of february 2021 and hand selected by me <3

Sowing Discord by @chronologicalimplosion

A group of hyper-religious, homophobic protesters on campus ruins David's post-lunch good mood and he sends a half-joking message to the LGBTQ+ Discord server about staging a counterprotest. Constant lurker Patrick comes running.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 4,089 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Original Characters, Alternative Universe, Alternative Universe - College/University, Homophobia, First Kiss, Epistolary, kind of

"This work features the inclusion of messages sent in Discord channels, a social media app I've never seen interrogated into a fanfiction piece before. The perfect balance of humour as well as tenderness makes this the ideal read to round out the month of love."

falling into place like dominos by @davidbrewer

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 4,897 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Post-Canon, Lesbian Stevie Budd, First (Real) Kiss, Alcohol, Spin the Bottle, Queer Themes, Sexuality Crisis, (Although it's more of a frustrated confusing than a crisis tbh)

"The author's ability to voice every character (but specifically Alexis) will never fail to astound me; their inner voice for Stevie is the most notable in this work, however. Even the friendship/sibling dynamics between David and Alexis and as well as Stevie and Patrick are absolute perfection. One of the best 'Housewarming' codas I've ever endulged in and I can confidently says so."

Until I Lose My Breath by @the-kellephant

How could she have missed the fact that she was in love with Twyla?

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 814 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Femslash February, Bisexual Stevie Budd, Lesbian Twyla Sands

"A lovely introspective piece about sapphic feelings and how they can often be blindsided by denial if not provided with the proper care or attention."

You can Stand Under my Umbrella by @agoodpersonrose

David thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. But then it started to rain.

43. You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 2,721 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Tumblr Prompt, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, First Meetings, Awkward Flirting, Kissing in the Rain, Umbrellas, Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Prompt Fill, One Shot

"I have nothing to say besides this is hands down the most cute way this prompt could've been filled and I applaud Becca for her ability to write such tender moments in a way underlined with laughs."

Ten Tender Kisses by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

Ten drabbles featuring ten tender kisses.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 1,110 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, tender kisses, Canon Compliant

"Reading this was pure joy. The happiness I felt from the first drabble continued to grow the longer I scrolled which is truly a beautiful feeling. Their banter is so perfectly in character and the dynamic the author has created between David and Patrick is a skill I envy."

I Didn't Know it was a Crush, David by squigmistress

David and Patrick arrive home after The Premiere and David wants to talk more about some of the wild stuff Patrick said when he was high on pain meds. What he doesn't expect is Patrick's big, gay feelings. But damn, does he love him for it. OR Patrick needs emotional safety to process some feelings and, of course, David is more than happy to hold him through it.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,548 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, david rose - Relationship, Queer Themes, Coming Out, Episode: s06e05 The Premiere, Coda, Feelings, Feelings Realisation, Gay, Canon Gay Character, Family Issues, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Anger

"Now, I've always been a sucker for introspective works, but this took it to a brand new level. It's such a fine needle to thread; however, the author does an astounding job at cataloguing the growth/development of Patrick's emotions."

Be your remedy by @jessx2231

Patrick closes his eyes and brings to mind all the times David has put on music while Patrick is engrossed in a book or his phone or even the occasional weekend work task. Eventually, David will slink into his space, just enough to rest his head in Patrick’s lap. He doesn’t always do so with the intent to fall asleep, but it’s usually not long before Patrick’s fingers involuntarily find their way into David’s hair — much like they are now — and David’s breath will even out for a while.

He can definitely make an abridged version of that happen.

Or, David can't sleep and Patrick helps.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings; 2,048 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Married Life, very mild descriptions of depressive symptoms, but really just some very soft sleepy boys

"A warm hug is the best way I can describe this. Also, I already knew I need a Patrick Brewer in my life, but this solidified that."

the paths that your eyes wander down by @anniemurphys apart of falling in love at a coffee shop by them, @thankstwy, and @landofsonlali

Written for the prompt: "Twyla and Alexis reunite in NYC."

Alexis finds Twyla at a tiny corner table.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 568 words; F/F; TAGGED for Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon

"The absolute perfect romantic comedy moment paired with some of the most in-character Alexis dialogue I've seen in awhile, not to mention how beautifully the mutual pining is broken."

a sense of expectation hanging in the air by Anonymous (i'll add the author once reveals are out for the Season 7 collection !)

Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 6,548 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Ruth Clancy, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose & Twyla Sands, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Making Out, Fluff, Texting, Female Friendship, Episode: s07e08 RMG, Workplace Relationship

"The support from Stevie's friends—Alexis, Twyla, David, and Patrick—is so incredibly lovely. Despite the secret crushes, Stevie and Ruth refuse to let anything get in the way of them getting together and it's such a wonderful thing to see them immediately all-in the relationship."

got a fistful of four leaf clovers by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,754 words; F/F; TAGGED for Post-Canon, Getting Together, Femslash February, home is a place AND a person!

"Alexis's slow burn of building feelings for Twyla melts my heart. That being said, the realistic depiction of the difficulties that come with change provides a certain depth to this story it needs."

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david rose #patrick brewer #stevie budd #twyla sands #alexis rose #david x patrick #david & patrick #stevie x alexis #stevie & alexis #twyla x alexis #twyla & alexis #twylexis #fic recommendations #fanficiton #*lolrecs #schitt's creek fic #february roundup

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nighttimepixels · 4 years

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Alright alright, I’ve had liquid courage and we’ll say that this is for the best, moment important science. Sapphic science!! Which of the Lilytale ladies would love their significant other dancing only for them in their underwear or lingerie?? If all, then what’re their general reactions? 👀✨

Bless you and your liquid courage >:Dc

Answer below the cut bc things get... saucy 👀

All of them are into it.

I mean, that’s practically a given, right? Hot damn, their s/o giving them a private show like that? Dressed up (or dressed down ;D) and feeling flirty/teasing/into them so much that they want to give them a little show~?

Count these ladies down.

The only question then is just how they specifically react - and how long such a dance might last before the lady in question breaks and has to show you just how much they appreciate your hard work >:3c

Serif (Lady UT Sans): What, she gets to lay back and simply appreciate how gorgeous her s/o is? Heart eyes all the way. Be prepared though bc she’s going to keep complimenting you in a low, flirty voice until you cave - and then she’s pulling you onto her lap, hands trailing to every place she’s already memorized will get you just as riled as you’ve gotten her~

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Her cheekbones are burning, and as much as she tries to stay still- she can’t help herself! You’re so gorgeous, and attractive, and she’s never much been one for sitting still even as much as she enjoys appreciating fine art - your dance for her will turn into a mutual dance before you find her lifting you into her arms in that perfect way that allows you to wrap your legs around her and... well, a very different kind of dance is on the menu, then ;D

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Has she died and gone to heaven? She might as well have. Sapphire’s never been terribly spiritual, but in that moment she’s considering going to her knees and doing some dedicated worship indeed. >v> Count her as a rather uncooperative but delightful audience before long - she can’t keep her hands off you, even if she won’t interrupt the dance itself. Prepare for teasing touches to linger more and more, tracing and becoming part of the dance itself - before her mouth joins in, and you might just need to take a seat and let her show you her own moves~

Amber (Lady US Pap): Absolute prayhands meme. She’s sitting back, lounging, her s/o dressed like this and dancing for her-? One of the hardest to resist, actually, because her bedroom eyes are at full power. All the confidence in the world still finds a hard time not caving into the way she’s somehow both cherishing you in adoration in that glance, and also undressing you and promising a night full of her showing you just what she’s confident she can do to you. Also though, liable to be putty in your hands at the same time. Make thigh highs part of your lingerie look and I hope you’re not looking to sleep anytime soon... or walk on the jelly legs you’re going to be left with ;D

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Is facing an absolute internal crisis. She can’t interrupt this absolute genie’s wish of a moment, but also can’t resist you. Extremely liable to turn into a very handsy lapdance, complete with dirty talk so sweet and filthy alike that your ears are going to be burning for days. She’s going to make sure you know just how lucky she feels to be with you - and how much she’d love to see any show you’d like to put on for her, anytime...♡♡♡

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Has turned the color of her namesake. Holy shit, she’s written this sort of thing before, but... no one’s ever actually done it for her - you might end up interrupted if only because Scarlet’s going to implode if she doesn’t do something. Prepare to be passionately ravaged - by the end of the night, though, she’ll end up murmuring into the crown of your head as you cuddle exhausted and brought to shall-we-say satisfaction maaaany times over - that perhaps, if you’d be willing to do so again, she might resist longer... if not though, then, well, this sort of development seems mutually enjoyable too, no? ;D

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Stars help her you’re going to end her and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Of course, prepare to be domme’d to hell and back following this... but gods, with what praise. She’s sorely tempted to ask you to record it - in the single moment she can scrape together enough braincells to think about anything other than you and the way you move, the way you look - but decides in the end she’d much rather have the real you... tangled up with her, keening her name in that perfect way you do. Extremely liable to end up pinning you to the nearest wall/floor and not even make it to the bed, though she’ll appreciate every moment of your dance first~

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): ... Is pretty sure she’s having the best dream ever. Literally, it’s not until you brush your touch to her bones for the first time in the dance that she snaps out of her lovestruck and horny stupor - her gaze has been predatory in the best way, and now it’s downright ravenous. She leans back and catches you by the wrist, then the waist, her claws sliding delicatedly up the curve of your back - and you find yourself divested of your clothing before you can even realize it, as her other hand has gotten rather busy in that skilled way that always makes you gasp and moan a little. Yeah, this is going to be another deliciously long night... and she’ll be hoping for more in the future, if you’re willing. ;)c

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Honestly one of the most liable to ‘break’ the fastest. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate it - but rather, appreciates it so much (that you’d think her worth the effort like that, broken, beat up her, slower to the punch than the rest of the girls, no matter her other qualities...) that she just can’t resist showing you, immediately. Also can’t quite move like that herself, and knows it - but she can send you to heaven so many times in one night you forget your own name... and she’s intending to do just that, all the while imprinting on her struggling memory just what you looked like, dancing like that for her. <3

Twist (Lady HT Pap): Well, you’d have to really modify a dance like that for her anyways, given the fact that Twist is blind... very hands on from the start. Twist admittedly likes it - loves to feel the way you can move like that, so smooth and sweet and deliberate, just for her, even when she can’t properly see you to appreciate some of the finer points... but, well, being so hands on means it quickly devolves into an even more intimate dance. And Twist has always adored being a giver in this field, particularly liking to wreck you in the best ways until all your worries and the world fades away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined, so... hope you don’t mind that being the natural process for dancing for Twist! ♡

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): An absolute connoisseur. Quite possibly the perfect audience, all things said and done - the perfect balance of surprised, delighted, and turned on, making all the right comments, teasing flirts, occasional tempting touches before you dance away again, the re-approach... the perfect sort of devolving as the dance breaks down into wanting grasps, kisses at the column of your throat, her arms pulling you in so you’re straddling her lap... and so much more to come ✧(ô▿ô )

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Is the one most likely to end up straight up dancing with you. She’ll be teasing and flirty and turned on by the display and the desire behind it... and then she’s catching you as she rises, turning the whole thing into a slow, languid, passionate dance where there’s hardly any space between you. Prepare for another long night, and more than likely to be edged until you at last crash over the peak in a way that’ll feel like your whole-ass soul left your body. Glyph knows how to treat an s/o right.

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Absolutely blown away, hardly conceived of this as... an option??? Still baffled, but you can see the deeper flare of desire in her eyelight as it blows wide and shrinks down once more... settling into a tiny heart. It’s been a long, long time since attraction ever begot this sort of thing for her - and that you’d do it for her, well... She’ll be fiercely committing this moment to memory, but prepare to take a seat before too long on her face your throne so she can properly show you her appreciation ;)c

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): The size difference here could be comical, but for her, it just emphasizes what she already knew - that you’re the greatest treasure she could ever protect and dedicate herself too. Her touches once they come are tentative - so aware of your smaller size - but no less enamored for it. All but obsessed at the fact you’d do something like this for her - and she won’t just take a night, but several days to prove it to you. With breaks for homemade snacks, of course - gotta keep her perfect little human fueled up as she completely rocks their world ;Dc

#night answers #lilytale asks #lime i suppose #but yes my gods #just blow their minds and make their whole lives why don't you #fuck everybody else i respect YOU rad #XDD #12/10 ask #✧(ô▿ô )#radpunch

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kiradaxx · 4 years

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Critical Care

This idea jumped into my head soon as I saw the scene with Tuvok and Janeway holding hands on the bridge in the episode Critical Care. This is definitely not a criticism of that scene because I loved it and found it hilarious and Janeway and Tuvok are bros for life. Tuvok's reaction was priceless and both actors crushed it. But I couldn't help reimagining this scene with a J/7 twist, cause, of course. So here we go, enjoy my brief, goofy J/7 rewrite of this episode's fake dating trope.

Also on AO3 here

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A powerful headache was throbbing in Janeway’s temples as she waited for the communications link to be picked up by yet another Delta Quadrant inhabitant in the long line of fruitless interviews she’d been conducting all day. Patience was a virtue she did not possess, but diplomacy she had in spades. So she’d been smiling and charming and biting her tongue down on more acerbic comments all day as she attempted to track down the scam artist who had managed to steal their doctor’s program right out from under her nose.

After hours of chasing down contacts and bouncing from one rumor to the next, from one unhelpful, frustrating source to the next, not only was Janeway tired, she was bored out of her mind. However, they had finally found a workable lead in Gar’s current girlfriend. They had just concluded a call with her husband- a sad, weepy man with little dignity left to his name. He had divulged far more information about his wife’s adultery than Janeway cared to know, but at least they had learned something to go off of. Now, they were hoping this woman could give them Gar’s actual whereabouts, rather than just tell them yet another story of how he had conned some unsuspecting soul and made off into the ether.

Janeway leaned heavily against the railing of the main command stage of her bridge, staring at the still empty view screen. Her chin rested in her right hand, her elbow on the railing, and as she stared out into space, she suppressed the urge to tap her fingers restlessly against her cheek. Waiting for the call to be picked up was about as thrilling as watching paint dry, and while she hoped for a more productive conversation this time, she wished she could be doing just about anything else at the moment.

Finally, their hail was answered, and the view screen displayed a pale woman with a large forehead of unique ridges sitting luxuriantly on a couch in what appeared to be a sunroom of some sort. Making quick work of her initial assessment of the woman and the necessary introductions, Janeway wasted no further time in explaining who they were looking for. This held little interest for the woman, though, and rather than offering any information about Gar, she instead asked how they had found her. When she was informed that her husband had given them her name, a look of vague disgust overtook the woman’s features. Janeway lamented internally as she realized the moment the woman opened her mouth that she was about to be subjected to still more details of this couple’s relationship problems.

“You’re a woman, you saw my husband with your own eyes.” Her tone carried a distinct distaste as she continued, “Overweight, depressed. You would have left him too.” A playful spark and a vapid smile lit up the woman’s face next, and she added, “Especially if you had met someone as exciting as Gar.”

Nasty comments about the man’s size or emotional state were hardly necessary, but Janeway couldn’t afford to lose this lead now. Not when they’d finally come so close to getting the scammer’s location. So for the sake of her missing crew member, once more she bit down on the inside of her cheek and held back on her criticism of the woman’s shameful attitude. She was only just able to restrain an eye roll when the woman began extolling Gar’s seductive qualities. But her day had been long and exhausting and filled with some of the most inane conversations she’d ever entertained, and when she offered a placating agreement to the woman’s assessment, she didn’t bother to muster any more enthusiasm than she would have for extensive dental work.

Chin still in her hands, posture slouched, and boredom leaching through every syllable, she said, “Yes, he’s very exciting.”

Somehow, unfathomably, this woman managed to interpret her words as genuine interest in Gar. As a threat of competition for her lover. She stiffened, growing defensive and accusative, throwing a glare through the screen while asking, “That’s why you’re looking for him, isn’t it? You want him for yourself.”

Janeway stared at her incredulously for a long moment, at once both insulted at the implication that she would be attracted to a sleeze like Gar, and baffled at how dense this woman must be to believe her lackluster agreement had constituted any actual desire.

Her patience had long ago run out, and even her dedication to diplomacy was wearing thin at this point. Her battle against the roll of her eyes continued to be hard fought, but not fully won as she felt herself blinking rapidly through her exasperation. She lifted her head off of her hand but changed little else about her posture, and replied, “I assure you I have no romantic interest in him whatsoever.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed and her shoulders remained squared, clearly still offended. “Why, not good enough for you?”

“No it’s not that, it’s just-” Janeway began to reply earnestly, but cut herself off. This was maddening, and she did finally allow herself to roll her eyes then. How did they even get this far off track, and why was she continuing this ridiculous topic? She exchanged a quick glance with Seven, who was serving a duty shift on the bridge and standing not too far from where Janeway was leaning against the rail of the main command well. The quirk of Seven's ocular implant and the amused but critical gleam in her eyes told Janeway she was not alone in finding this woman impressively asinine.

An idea occurred to her then, an absurd one. A ridiculous solution for a ridiculous problem, she supposed. She needed to get their conversation back to the matter at hand without angering Gar’s lover or drawing out this argument any further, and when she looked to the woman standing to her right, she saw a method to do just that. With an expression that made little effort to hide how unimpressed Janeway was with this whole situation, she reached her hand out expectantly towards Seven. She was completely bemused, but understood what Janeway was asking for and, albeit hesitantly, she placed her hand in the outstretched one the captain offered. Their fingers interlocked, sliding into a comfortable position without thought, and Janeway made sure to hold their hands up in clear view of the screen. She squeezed Seven’s hand in silent reassurance, and thanked the universe that she had played along without spoken question, even if she could feel Seven’s confused stare burrowing into her profile.

She intentionally allowed a little extra husk to fill her voice, a smoky lilt accompanying the suggestive look in her eyes as she said, “Gar’s not really my type, if you catch my drift.”

The woman observed them for a moment with no reaction at first, her defensive demeanor unchanged. Tom Paris turned from his position at the helm in surprise, and Harry Kim chuckled to himself while Tuvok merely lifted one eyebrow in their direction. Janeway ignored all of them; allowing herself to be embarrassed would hardly be conducive to getting the information she sought, and she didn’t have the intention of giving any of them the satisfaction. She had nothing to feel embarrassed about anyway. She was dealing with con artists, a little misdirection was necessary. After a few more seconds, she saw the understanding dawn on the alien woman, illuminating her expression. She observed them more curiously now, fixating on their joined hands and seemingly sizing them up. Her hostility deflated, and she appeared to be appeased by the insinuation that Janeway’s interests lay in a decidedly more sapphic direction.

Relieved that the ruse had worked, Janeway tried not to think too hard about the pleasant warmth suffusing her skin where her hand remained cradled by Seven’s. She hadn’t expected Seven’s touch to be quite so gentle, almost tender, and she wasn’t sure what to do with this information now that her brain was aware of it. But this was neither the time nor the place for her to feel a fluttering in her stomach that she wouldn’t want to analyze too closely even in the best of circumstances. She wasn’t actually attracted to women after all, she was simply skilled in the art of deception when the need arose. So, she pushed the thought aside and refocused.

“We have a business opportunity for Mr. Gar.” She said, resolute professionalism twice enforced now to maintain her composure. “One that will expire if we don’t find him soon.”

With all of the fight in her posture vanished, the woman released a slight sigh and finally, finally gave them Gar’s current location. “He’s on his way to the gambling tournament on Selek IV.” She paused, then in a softer tone, she added, “When you see him, tell him to hurry home.”

Janeway bit her tongue down one last time for that afternoon and refrained from saying that there was very little chance Gar considered their affair to be more than a quick romp in the sack, let alone his home. She hoped the look she gave the woman wasn’t too pity filled, but as the connection was terminated and the star filled vacuum of space retook the screen, she indulged in one last roll of her eyes. Just a small one, well earned after having had to insinuate herself even peripherally into the marital drama of several random civilians.

In the next moment, she remembered she was still holding Seven’s hand. Her skin tingled at the comforting warmth still present, and she looked to Seven with a slightly sheepish expression. Seven, for her part, was staring rather intently at Janeway, brows furrowed deep in question. Janeway was about to apologize in case she had made her uncomfortable, but the other woman spoke first.

“Are you sexually attracted to women?”

Well, at least Janeway could count on Seven not to beat around the bush. She fought the flames of embarrassment licking at her heated skin, and instead quirked her lips up in what she hoped was a confident grin.

“I was just trying to get Gar’s girlfriend to focus on the question. I needed to mislead her a little, make her think you and I were an item.”

Seven studied her another moment before replying, voice devoid of inflection. “I see.”

Janeway couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling that she had disappointed or upset Seven in some way, and she returned to her original plan to apologize. She still hadn’t let go of Seven’s hand, though she wasn’t sure why. She squeezed the hand in hers lightly, and said, “It seemed like the easiest way to get the information. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. Thank you, for playing along.”

Seven nodded but said nothing, leaving Janeway to feel like she was still missing something. She offered Seven one more crooked smile, one more small squeeze of their hands, and finally dropped her hold on the other woman. While Seven returned to her normal work, Janeway strode over to her command chair, sinking into it with purpose. She put aside the seed of worry digging into her mind for the sake of focusing on their task. Crossing her legs and assuming her authoritative positioning, she commanded Tom to lay in a course for Selek IV. She would apologize to Seven again later if she needed to, perhaps find a way to make the offense up to her if she were still upset. But for now, she had a member of her crew to rescue.

#j/7 fanfiction #j7 #j/7 #kathryn janeway #seven of nine #seven x janeway #janeway x seven #captain janeway #star trek voyager #a fun little oneshot that came to mind #episode tag s07e05 #i have an idea for a second part if people like this one

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missolitude · 5 years

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O-taaaay so I've had time to digest Out of Blue! I wish I could find or create the words to best encompass my feelings for Patricia and her skills, but all I can do is like pick my jaw up off the floor and clap lol. I'm very interested in parallel lives/space/the universe and such, so this movie was right up my alley! :D i loved the mystery and mind-pretzeling as the story unfolded and I tried to figure out what was going on. What did you enjoy about it? & the song she danced to = my new fav!!

Yayy, I’m so happy to know that the movie was your kinda thing! I felt very much the same when I first watched it, I was just… baffled. To be quite frank I was and still am rather torn about the movie even though I enjoyed it (more on that later), but Patricia was incredible in it, and she carried the movie with such ease, even though she was pretty much on her own and had no co stars to bounce off of. She was the fabric that wove everything together and it was so… visual and ethereal and transcendent at times. I truly couldn’t look away, I was mesmerized by her performance and just.. her energy. The movie had a very unique pacing to it as well and it always kept you guessing, which I liked.

Mike was so intriguing as a character, she was so mysterious the entire duration of the film and you never really knew what she was thinking, and then she had these bar scenes were she suddenly loosened up and had these sapphic moments and stripped I was like !!! The ending felt very much like a release of energy as well. It felt like Mike could finally let go of her past that has haunted her and find peace. I would love to know what happened to her afterwards, this feels like such a huge turning point in Mike’s life.

I loved that she was at the center and that we saw everything from her perspective while also being kept somewhat at a distance from her thoughts and feelings. This was very unique as well, the movie never tried to force us to emphasize with Mike, or to even like her, it never forced any sort of connection between her and the audience. Which I found refreshing. And even though Mike isn’t a traditionally feminine character (🔥🔥) it was still very much a movie oozing with female and sapphic energy. Personally I think this is because Carol Morley, who produced, wrote and directed the movie, is very very very enamoured with Patricia. If you are curious about their flirtatious antics and dynamics you can watch this video here. They also talk a lot about the movie and it’s very insightful but also entertaining to watch.

I also loved what Patricia had to say about Mike’s personality in this interview here

Now about the movie - I feel like it was almost too light and simplistic plot wise. They had so many beautiful and fantastic lines about the universe (I love sci fi/space as well) and laid out this amazing setting with so many possibilities on what this movie could be and it led to disappointment because they ultimately never delivered on it. I think it was well done and it is a very enchanting (if yet sometimes confusing) experience but I think there was room for a lot more. They could have easily included more mystery and sci fi elements. They didn’t need to, of course, but as I said, they teased it and that made the lack of complexity a bit jarring and disappointing for me.

On the plus side, this made Patricia’s performance shine even more, because her character and her journey was the story. I truly hope she will get more leading roles like this because she was born for this, which is sad because a large part of her filmography are just supporting roles. And I feel so spoiled because she was in every single scene in this one and I will miss that in future projects! 😍😪

#missolitude replies #keepstraightahead #out of blue #patricia clarkson

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lizzieraindrops · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Far Meridian (Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peri/Ruth Characters: Hesperia | Peri, Ruth Additional Tags: Wingfic, Wings, Alternate Universe - Wings, Wing Grooming, Pining, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Stargazing, Pre-Canon, they're still in high school, it's really gay, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Femslash, Pre-Femslash

I decided that angsty wingfic for The Far Meridian was a necessity.

Just a memory of a soft evening atop a lighthouse, filled with unspoken words and un-nameable longing. Girls preening the wings of close friends is totally normal - unless you're pining sapphics suffering internalized homophobia. A continuation of the sunset scene in Ep. 1.10 Whitecaps. I promise it does end soft.

Peri has the wings of a hermit thrush – an elusive migratory songbird that travels at night, rarely visits feeders, and is widely regarded as having one of the most beautiful, ethereal songs. Ruth has the wings of a northern spotted owl – a nocturnal bird with little white spots like stars on dark brown wings, and big brown eyes.

Title from the song of the same name by The Spring Standards, also featured on this Peri/Ruth playlist.

Say it Say the words I see behind your eyes If it’s not hard to say, then it’s a lie

___________

With the brilliant colors of the sunset, the brine seasoning the seaside air, and the sound of the sweetest voice in the world singing where only she can hear, this might be Peri’s idea of bliss. The soft vibrations of unexpected music twines about the two of them in the air atop the lighthouse, much like the winding breeze that breathes through Peri’s feathers. The wind tugs lightly at them like an invitation to sky. That pull revives the muscle memory of flight going back for generations, running all the way down the vanes to stir their roots. But the song reaches even deeper into her, somewhere in the region where her wings themselves are rooted.

It’s a perfect moment, even if something about it aches indescribably. But it’s alright; it’s a familiar nameless ache, one that swells or softens but never completely fades. Maybe it’s more noticeable right now because Peri doesn’t know when she’ll get another moment like this. So, she tries to make the most of it. She keeps her eyes on the sky and drinks in the air and the light and the sound, trying to sink into the sweetness and save the bitterness for later. It works until it doesn’t.

“You could always… go,” Ruth says, but the way her voice trails tells Peri she already knows her answer. “Next semester. It’d be way easier if we could cheer each other on.”

Peri folds her wings in a little tighter, so the wind’s fingers slide off of them. She doesn’t look at Ruth. “I’ve got my online courses…”

“You know that’s not the same.”

Peri leans forward into the railing of the balcony around the light room as she sighs. She’d hoped Ruth wouldn’t make her say it. “Trust me, if I were a turtle with my home on my back… I’d be there in half a heartbeat.”

“C’mon,” Ruth says, stirring the air with a playful stroke of her forewings. The tips of her soft primaries barely brush Peri’s arm. “In the grand cosmic scheme of things, the whole Earth is your home, zooming through space at sixty-seven thousand miles per hour!”

“Sounds more like a racecar than a home!” Peri protests, but she feels a smile seeking its way to her lips.

“You are – impossible!” Ruth exclaims.

Laughter escapes both of them then. It makes the brief tension recede like one wave folding under the next, returning them to bittersweet contemplation of the kaleidoscope sky.

Peri gives a little shrug of her wings and settles them to lay more comfortably against her back. A few of the tertial feathers at the base catch on the cotton of her shirt. She lifts her left wing a little and reaches her right arm around to smooth them back into place. Once it’s fixed and re-folded, she shifts to carefully lean her elbow against Ruth’s on the railing. She does it oh so slowly, so casually that Ruth can move away if she wishes, and Peri will have done nothing but adjusted the way her weight rests against the rail. Her arms practically ache with affected ease, ready to pull back, oh sorry, didn’t mean to bump you, if Ruth pulls away.

Ruth doesn’t pull away. The wind softens into something that barely dances over Peri’s skin. In the resulting quiet, she can hear Ruth breathing. Peri listens.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Ruth says in a soft voice.

Peri watches the golds and oranges of the sunset deepen toward pink. The clouds holding that brilliant light slide along the horizon like sails before swifter, higher winds than the ones that reach the lighthouse. Words fill her throat, but she doesn’t know what any of them are, much less how to say them. “Yeah,” she finally says. “Me, too.”

The two of them stand together in silence. Ruth heaves a slow sigh. That ineffable ache still lingers, as it always does for Peri: quietly, and constantly. But usually, it’s not this much. Right now, Peri can physically feel it like a sore muscle, somewhere deep in her chest in the same place where the music goes. On the surface far above it, the skin of her wing twitches in irritation. Some of the smaller covert feathers above the corrected tertials still feel askew. She cants the wing upward again, reaching. Her fingers stretch toward the mosquito-bite itch, but it’s right on the back of her wing where it’s hardest to reach.

Peri lets out a frustrated sound. She briskly fluffs her feathers up and then down again, hoping it will sort out the stuck ones without her having to practically stretch her shoulder out of socket. It doesn’t. This probably wouldn’t be as difficult if she didn’t carry so much tension in her arm- and wing-shoulders. The stiffness of it constricts her natural range of movement just a little, just enough to keep those furthest preening spots out of reach and to leave her neck and upper back perpetually tight and sore. Then again, a whole lot of things in her life probably wouldn’t be as difficult without the anxiety causing that tension in the first place.

Peri braces her hands on the rail. She stretches her rounded wings directly backward to brush their tips against the glass walls of the light room, then folds them down again, to no avail. She huffs in annoyance.

“Hey, you okay?” Ruth asks, giving her a sideways look with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, just – nghh.” Peri shrugs her wings again, then tucks them down and holds resolutely still. She’s not going to break the spell of this perfect sunset, not going to walk away from this one of the precious few moments she has left just to go downstairs for a back scratcher. “I’ve just got a feather out of sorts right in the back. It’s fine though.”

“Oh.”

Peri tries to keep her attention on the pink-and-gold clouds, and not on the itch at her back or the light press of the arm leaning against hers. It doesn’t work very well, because she finds some of those words in her throat taking shape and slipping half a question past her teeth before she knows what they are.

“Could you – ?”

At the same time, Ruth blurts, “Do you want me to – ?”

They both break off to stare right at each other. Ruth raises her wings just slightly in a hesitant gesture. Peri quickly looks away again.

“Um,” Peri says, hoping the warm glow of the sunset hides her blush. She pulls her wings in scrunched close to her shoulders in embarrassment. She feels the offending feathers stick up along with several dozen neighbors, crinkled up along the folds of skin.

“Sorry, I – uh,” Ruth says. “I meant – I can fix it, if you want. Or not! It’s totally cool, if that’s weird –”

“No! No, it’s not weird!” Peri says hurriedly. It wouldn’t be. It’s Ruth.

But if it were, that’s why it would be: because it’s Ruth.

Peri had Ace or her mom or dad help her with preening often enough, especially in those hard-to-reach spots. It was a thing lots of people did with close friends and family. Ruth practically was family – she ate dinner at the lighthouse half the time, anyway. It wouldn’t be unusual for Ruth to preen her. Peri had seen plenty of girls at school casually combing through each other’s feathers at the end of lunch hour. That was always a little golden window of free time that the two of them spent together, where nothing consequential ever really happened. Now, though, it occurs to Peri that those casual interstices were home to a disproportionate number of oddly precious memories. They rise up clamoring inside her, as if desperate to not become part of a closed chapter.

There was the time they found a crying thrush trapped in an unused locker down by Mr. Santos’ office, and Peri opened it and got a face full of feathers so much like her own. The two of them chased it down the hallway toward the door Ruth held open for it, and the bird flew out into the sky with a call of joy that they both echoed. Then, there was Heidi’s birthday sophomore year when her grandmother sent her to school with a ton of donuts, except half of them got repurposed for a miniature food fight. Somehow, it was exhilarating instead of terrifying. Peri landed a surprisingly accurate powdered donut on Ruth’s head in a puff of white sugar that clung to her hair all day. She quickly experienced retribution in the form of Ruth seizing her and dusting her all over with a cinnamon twist while laughing and leaving sugary handprints all down her sleeves. And then, there was that time the two of them wandered the perimeter of the soccer field at the edge of school and sat together in the grass awhile, chatting and staring at the trees beyond, and nothing interesting happened at all. They were simply together. Something in the stillness of that moment echoed the bliss of this quiet, sunset-glazed evening that she was living today.

Except for the current awkwardness, today had been blissful - besides the unnamed ache, of course, but that was always there. But perhaps Peri and her escaped words shouldn’t have brought up the idea of preening. For some reason, it was something that had never been a part of any of those remembered moments. It just wasn’t something the two of them did. Peri had never questioned it, never wanted to cross an unacknowledged line. Sure, she had wondered in idle moments what it might feel like to run a hand through the softness of Ruth’s dark velvet-edged owl-feathers, to trace the little white spots that speckled them like stars across a night sky. But someone’s wings were so personal, so strong and yet so vulnerable, that she would never presume to ask, not even her best friend. Especially her best friend.

But now, the wings concerned aren’t Ruth’s, but her own. Although she never even considered the possibility before, she knows she would trust Ruth with anything and everything, including this. Including her. And Ruth herself had offered. Minutes ago, the concept of Ruth’s hands on her wings hadn’t existed. But suddenly, intensely, Peri wants. She wants this before Ruth takes the option far away with her when she leaves. The deep ache inside her twists sharply in a strange way she doesn’t know how to understand.

Ruth is still staring at her, twisting her hands together. Peri flushes again, but just says, in a voice that catches on that ache and breaks into a whisper: “Would you?”

Ruth’s face blooms with hope. Being the reason for that expression makes Peri feel like the sun itself. Ruth begins to reach toward Peri’s wing, but checks herself one more time, retracting her hands as if from a fire too warm, too close.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” Ruth says, brows crinkling in uncertainty.

“It’s not weird,” Peri says again. Thankfully, her voice doesn’t break this time. “Well, I mean, you’re weird, so by default everything involving you is weird, but other than that –”

“Hey!” Ruth puts one hand on her hip. “Rude! You’re one to talk.”

For the second time that evening, they both dissolve into giggles. The beam from the lighthouse’s light swings over them, illuminating their faces with a glimpse of brilliance.

“Okay but no, really,” Peri says after she’s caught her breath. “That spot’s really really bugging me, can you get it?”

“Yeah yeah! Come here,” Ruth says. As naturally as if they’ve done this a thousand times, she reaches out toward her once again and twirls a finger in the air to ask Peri to turn around.

Peri turns and stretches out her left wing, resting her opposite hand on the glass walls of the light room. “It’s right down at the base there, do you see it?”

“Oh yeah, hon, you’re all kinds of ruffled up here.”

For a moment, Peri doesn’t feel anything but the breeze. But just as she’s worrying that Ruth has decided this is too weird after all, careful fingers sink into the mat of soft brown coverts at her shoulder. Very gently at first, and then with deliberate firmness, she starts combing them back into place.

“Yeah, the one that’s really the problem is just belo– ahh!” Peri shivers as Ruth untangles the feather’s barbs from its neighbors and flattens it between her fingers to zip them back into alignment. Then she rubs the pad of her thumb against the feather’s base where it meets the skin, erasing the twinge of irritation with comforting pressure. Peri’s wing involuntarily sags to the ground in relief, yet again crinkling up all the feathers where her wing meets her back into disarray.

Ruth just laughs. “Starshine, you’re gonna undo all my work if you do that. Here, why don’t you sit down.”

“Oh - okay.”

Peri settles herself cross-legged at the end of the balcony. She rests her arms on the lower rail and fully stretches out both wings, resting them on the ground at a more relaxed angle. Ruth sits down behind her, and with a deep breath sets to fixing her feathers again.

If this evening was blissful before, now it’s approaching something more like wonder. It’s hard to believe it’s real. Sitting here watching the bright clouds fade while Ruth cards deft fingers through her feathers, making the skin underneath tingle with pleasure... it’s a whole new kind of exquisite. Maybe the only thing that could make it better would be if Ruth started singing again – and sure enough, Ruth starts humming to herself as she works. Peri’s left wing goes slack, followed by her right as Ruth works her way through the tiny scapulars on her back toward the opposite limb. The corded tightness of those great flight muscles slowly begins to untie itself, chased away by strokes of careful pressure and gentle scratches.

After she finishes the covert feathers at the elbow bend of her wing, Ruth goes quiet and pauses. Peri hums a softest protest in her throat. At the sound, Ruth lays a silent question on the expanse of her ungroomed secondary coverts with a gently placed palm. Peri can’t help but press an answer into her touch.

Ruth chuckles and resumes, soothing sensitive skin and smoothing down all those little rounded feathers. She even massages the underlying wing, wrapping her hands right around the marginal coverts and squeezing her fingers deep into the muscle. How did she get so good at this? If Peri had known earlier....

Ruth continues to hum as she goes, softly enough that she might be just singing to herself. But when she sings Clementine again, the notes trace their way right into Peri’s core, lancing that eternal ache with unbearable sweetness.

This might be both the happiest and saddest Peri has ever felt.

Once Ruth finishes grooming the coverts, front and back, she starts running her fingers along each great flight feather. She hums another song Peri doesn't know, making sure all the feathers' little barbs knit together without gaps.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs in between the notes.

“Huh?” Peri glances at the plain brown wing in Ruth’s hands. “They’re just brown.”

“So are mine!”

Peri rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yours are dark and gorgeous and you’ve got all those little white spots that look like constellations. Mine are all the same and just kind of dusty-looking.”

“What! No they’re not. They’re such a warm color. They’ve got this gradient...” Ruth supports the back of one of Peri’s long primaries with one hand while reaching over the top of the wing to trace the raised rachis on the feather’s underside with her fingers. “They’re kind of pale golden at the base, and then they turn more sort of, I dunno. Like hot cocoa. And look! You’ve got this adorable little stripe of dark tips on your primary coverts. And your alula.” Ruth tweaks the three little ‘thumb’ feathers at the top of her wing.

“Oh.” Peri blinks. “I mean, I guess.”

“They’re right here! There’s no need to guess. You’re adorable, and that’s that.”

Peri rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh and a smile.

Ruth goes back to fixing up her long remiges. Peri’s wings sink ever closer to the floor, limp with relaxed pleasure. Finally, after what could be either hours or mere minutes, Ruth runs her hands down the length of them and stops.

“There,” Ruth whispers into the evening air, so soft she can hardly hear it. “How’s that?”

In answer, Peri stretches both her arms and wings out to their fullest extent with languorous ease. On impulse, she falls back into Ruth’s chest with an enormous sigh, wings still splayed. The soft whoof of air Ruth lets out makes her hair flutter by her ear.

“Good,” Peri says.

“Good.” Ruth’s voice is oddly high.

Ruth’s chest rises and falls against her back and wing-shoulders, and Peri finds that they’re breathing in rhythm. It’s lovely.

Ruth shifts her arms like she’s not sure what to do with them, with Peri practically in her lap. Apparently, she settles on stretching them out to lay along the margins of Peri’s prone wings. It increases the points of contact between them, and Peri certainly isn’t going to complain. They both hold still, simply breathing, Ruth’s breath brushing against her cheek.

She’s going to miss Ruth so much. The reality of her leaving has been circling closer for days, weeks, maybe even years, but now the fact has finally come home to roost in Peri’s ribcage.

Peri’s body is far more relaxed than usual. But the softness draws an unbearably sharp contrast with this hurting in her chest – – her heart fucking aches.

A shudder of pain that has nothing to do with Peri’s muscles runs through her, making her breath stutter.

“Whoa – Peri, what’s wrong?”

Peri squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head sharply. Don’t, please don’t, don’t ruin this, she tells herself.

“Peri,” Ruth says more urgently. Her voice is soft, but it goes low and resonant, like she’s trying to throw it across a canyon. Her hands cup Peri’s wings, holding her as they curl inward with pain.

Peri opens her mouth, desperately trying to cough up all the unspoken things trapped in her throat, but she has no idea how to make them turn into words that she can say.

Water wells in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says in a broken whisper, and turns her face into Ruth’s neck to hide them.

Ruth stiffens as she leans in, but just as quickly goes soft and curls around her. Her cheek rests against Peri’s head while her arms slide past the curtain of her feathers and wrap around her waist to hug her closer.

“Oh honey,” she breathes, “For what? You don’t need to be. It’s okay.”

Peri’s shuddering breaths shake them both a few times before subsiding under the comforting pressure of Ruth’s arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ruth whispers into her hair. The evening breeze twists around them, throwing one of Ruth’s stray locks into Peri’s eyes.

Peri shakes her head again, softer this time. She can’t. She wants to. But when she tries to say any or all of the unknown things she desperately needs to, the only sound her throat wants to make is a cry just like that thrush when it was trapped in the locker.

“Did I do something?” Ruth’s voice goes thin with uncertainty. “Was this too much?” Her arms begin to loosen unforgivably.

“No!” She lays her own arms over Ruth’s to keep them from pulling away. Right now, they’re the only thing keeping the ache inside her from growing so large it consumes her. “You’re fine.” You’re perfect. You’re wonderful. You’re everything. Please don’t go, she doesn’t say. She has no right to be saying such excessive things. “Please, just... stay here awhile?”

Ruth tightens her hold around Peri again. “Of course. I’m here, starshine.”

For now, she thinks with a pang, but she turns away from the thought. No matter what happens next, nothing can change the fact that Ruth has soothed her wings and called them beautiful and held Peri close in her arms. That’s real now, and nothing can ever take that away from her. That’s something she wouldn’t give up even to avoid all this hurt. She lays a hand over one of the darker ones splayed across her ribs, and Ruth tangles their fingers together. The gesture makes Peri melt back into her embrace. It acquires even more layers when Ruth brings her wings around parallel to Peri’s own to shelter her from the stiffening breeze.

Although being so close is what made her aching flare up so terribly into this storm of unutterable words and nameless longing, drawing even closer like this gently ushers Peri into something of a storm’s eye. Here, body to body and wing to wing, the aching releases its grip on her, and she finally goes completely soft. She knows it’s still there, rooted deep within her. But for perhaps the first time since it sprouted unnoticed in her heart an unknown number of years ago and began trellising itself all through her chest and shoulders, it doesn’t hurt. It just holds her, steadies her, the same way Ruth is holding her.

The breeze grows cooler and the surf grows fainter as the tide goes out. The pink clouds have long since taken a turn toward purple, and are now fading into dusky violet in an inky-blue evening sky.

Eventually, Ruth stirs without letting go of her. “Hey, Peri, look.” She points out west toward where the sun’s setting leaves a pale halo on the horizon. In between the smoky clouds, there’s a bright pinprick of light.

“It’s you,” Ruth says. “The evening star. Hesperos, the Greeks called it. And Phosphoros, the morning star – back then they didn’t know it was the same thing. It’s Venus, really. But I guess we’ve never really forgotten what it meant to us, in the beginning, when we started looking at the sky. And we’ve carried the story of it with us ever since.”

“Mmhmm.” Peri’s heard this story many times before. But she could spend all night listening to the way Ruth’s voice goes soft and full of awe when she talks about the stars.

They both gasp as a broad streak of blue-white brilliance arcs right past the gleaming planet and vanishes behind a trailing cloud.

“Oh, that’s a fireball!” Ruth exclaims, holding on to her tight. “I’ve never seen one that bright. Blue usually means high magnesium content – quick, make a wish, girl!” She gives Peri an extra squeeze.

“What, because it has high magnesium content?” Peri asks, baffled.

“No, dummy, because it’s a shooting star! Quick now.”

Peri looks out to the horizon where the ‘star’ fell, blinking at the afterimages of its descent. The only wish she can possibly make right now is the one that she doesn’t have words for. Her chest and throat go tight and sharp as she tries once more to force the yearning inside her to name itself, even if only in her mind. But it’s like trying to pick unripe fruit that clings tenaciously to the vine. It’s just not ready. Maybe she herself just isn’t ready.

Then again, maybe wishes don’t need to be trapped in words. That planet glinting on the horizon has meant enough to people to be given many words – names – of its own, but it’s still the same thing it always was. Perceptions must have shifted over time, and yet Hesperia’s own name is a lingering echo of what a light in the sky meant to humans who lived centuries ago. The nature of things matters, but so does the way people feel about them.

Peri stops fighting the thing inside her, and it immediately releases her into the softness of Ruth’s arms again. Okay. Squeezing her eyes shut, she holds the memory of that shooting star close to her heart. She pulls that spark of light into the soft eye of the storm with her, thinking deliberately: this. And then, because her human mind clings to the language it knows, gives it the only vague words that she has.

I hope this works out.

She heaves a great sigh as she sets the wish free and leans into Ruth even more.

“Starshine?” Ruth.

“Yeah?”

“You make a wish?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t tell me.” Ruth pulls her in closer, until Peri’s nestled into her chest close enough to feel another heartbeat.

They’re quiet. The sky has finally darkened enough that the lighthouse’s swinging beam has become a solid thing in the dimness.

“Did you?” Peri asks.

“Did I what?”

“Make a wish.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we do that? Both make wishes on the same star?”

“I dunno. Maybe if we wish for the same thing? Guess we won’t find out unless it comes true.”

“Well, you’re the star expert. I believe you.”

“Not yet, I’m not.”

“You will be. I know you.”

Ruth only hums in response. Peri feels the vibration of the sound against her back and wings. A chill runs across her skin, making her feathers stand up briefly.

“You alright?” Ruth asks, running a gentle hand along her feathers once more.

“Mmmm.”

The stars are starting to fill all the gaps between the clouds now.

“Do you wanna go back in?” Ruth asks.

“Mm,” Peri says again. “Not yet. Can we stay just a little longer?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Although my leg is kinda asleep.”

“Oh, gosh, I'm right on it, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, don’t worry. Maybe let’s move back so I can lean on the light, though?” Peri nods.

Ruth lets go of her and scoots the few feet back to the light at the center of the circular balcony. Peri’s heartache whines a little at the temporary loss, but she soothes it with a wordless whisper. She clambers after Ruth and leans against the light next to her, the intermittent brilliance shining through their feathers. She leans into the wing that Ruth spreads for her and the arm that Ruth wraps around her shoulders. She curls an arm around Ruth’s waist, weaving it under her beautiful barred and spotted feathers. The slow, regular creak of the light turning hums behind and below them. Its familiar gleam and grumble insulates them from the rest of the world. They’re cupped in their own little universe of light and sound, nothing but the sky and the sea and the shining.

The weight of Ruth’s head against her shoulder takes Peri by surprise. She hardly dares to glance at it, afraid she might move, but she dares just enough to allow herself a glimpse of Ruth’s dark hair only inches away. It’s really there. She’s really there.

Peri leans her head against Ruth’s, and her chest is a garden thinking of flowers. The two of them share a sigh and watch the stars and the swinging light in the darkness.

#the far meridian #hesperia #whisperforge #peri/ruth #lizzie taking up space #peruth #fanfic #femslash #crop circles #til the sun sets in verona #long post #podcasts

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ask-anna-wheelan · 6 years

Note

25-54 for “send me numbers”! ~Ernst

Hiii Ernst!! This is very late, but here they are

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

Probably the waist down. Even though I’ve been paralyzed my whole life, it can still be annoying and uncomfortable. I’m used to it but it would be nice to be able to walk sometimes.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Text my lovely girlfriend, @ask-martha-bessel. We’re both morning people but I’m usually up a little earlier. Then I eat breakfast because I can’t do anything before I eat.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

Just a little darker. I wish I wasn’t so pasty (even though my friends insist I’m not)

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

Martha and you, Ernst. All of my friends, really. I know I can tell them anything

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

My only ex is @ask-otto-lammermeier and we’re both gay now, so no.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Yes!! Definitely one of my goals in life.

31. Is your hair long enough for a ponytail?

Yup!! I put it up when it bugs me.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Uhhhm Brittian Ashford and Karen Olivo. Martha knows I have a huge crush on Brittan Ashford and have since getting into great comet. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter

33. Spell your name with your chin

asgbbsds

34. Do you play sports? What kind?

I played wheelchair roller derby in middle school. I loved it, but I’m too busy now with school and stuff. It was awesome to meet other girls in chairs!!

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV. I never watch it anyway

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Oh heck yes. I almost never initiate talking about romantic feelings with a potential partner.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Depends on the situation. If it’s with my parents I let them speak first. If it’s with my friends I’ll say something like “You know what’s big? My love for our lord and savior Jesus Christ”. That usually gets a good laugh

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Martha Bessel Someone honest and genuine. Nothing’s a deal-breaker like when someone isn’t truthful. She’d need to pay attention to me because who wants to be ignored by their partner? I love someone who can make me laugh and who’s a good listener. I also appreciate small romantic gestures like good morning texts or a flower on a day I have a big test.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Anywhere . Ilse introduced me to thrifting which is great too. It’s very expensive but I love Abercrombie.

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Oh, gosh! Well I like writing, fictional stuff like poetry, and I read a ton. I’ve thought about being a literature teacher of some sort because I love it so much. Like analyzing texts and stuff? Looking for deeper meaning? I love that!! I think teaching would be great, but nothing is set in stone. I’ll go where the wind blows me, so to speak.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Depends what they did, but usually yes. We gave Melchior a second chance and it was a great thing. He did an awful thing but I’m glad we have him a second chance. But if someone killed your mom or something, do not give them a second chance.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I’m upset or sad. I’m not a confrontational person and I try to push things down rather than deal with them. It’s something I’m trying to work on. I also get quiet when I’m really hungry!!

43. Do you smile at strangers?

I can’t always, since people are usually looking ahead and I’m down below everyone. But if they look down at me with sympathy I always smile. It’s kind of my way of showing hey, I’m ok down here. You don’t need to worry.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

They’re both so dark and empty, but probably outer space. How cool would it be to look back at the planet and see the only place you’ve ever known so far away? The stars must be beautiful too. If I could go as far as I wanted I would go so I could see the milky way. It’s stunning

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

The prospect of a new day!! When I feel the sun shining in through the blinds and the birds singing, it’s hard to stay in bed. There’s so much out there and I don’t want to miss it!!! Not every day is like that, sometimes staying in bed seems like the best option. But I remind myself of all the fun stuff I get to do and how good it will feel when the hard stuff is over. Also the idea of seeing Martha.

46. What are you paranoid about?

At the moment, finals.

47. Have you ever been high?

No, but it’s something I want to try eventually. Not off anything too bad, maybe weed or something. Blame Ilse.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Not really. I got a little drunk at the winter dance (unknowingly so) and Ilse brings alcohol to our sleepovers sometimes. I usually only have a few sips if I drink knowingly. I don’t really like the taste.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

No… I read the milk fic. I don’t recommend it, @ask-hanschen-rilow was talking about it and I wanted to know what it was and I’m so ashamed, I’m never getting over that

50. What was the color of the last hoodie you wore?

Maroon. Martha gave me hers when I got cold the other day. I still have it. I don’t really want to give it because it smells like her and I really like it!!

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Yes. Haven’t we all?

52. One thing you wish you could chance about yourself?

I wish I didn’t bury my feelings so much. I just don’t want to upset anyone, I feel like everyone has enough going on in their lives. They don’t need me to make it worse. But then it comes out in a big crying fit after a while which is no fun. I’m getting better but it’s still hard.

53. Favorite makeup brand?

Maybilline. It’s cheap and works well. Plus they have great lip colors.

54. Favorite store?

I really like Lush right now. It’s great to splurge on yummy bath bombs and scrubs. Hanschen, if you’re reading this, eating bath bombs is nasty and I’m not going to do it.

55. Favorite blog?

I can’t pick just one!! I love sapphic blogs and positivity blogs. Otp blogs are great too!!

Thank you for asking Ernst!!

Sincerely,

Anna

#ask anna #anna wheelan #ernst #spring awakening #dwsa

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lesbian-ed · 7 years

Note

Actually "sapphic" can be applied to any woman or female-aligned person attracted to other women or female-aligned people... ever considered how biphobic, panphobic, potentially transphobic you are for being stingy with the only label these people have to describe themselves? im a lesbian and i think the word 'lesbian' is enough, we don't need another label that other people could make better use of, fuck off and stop being so greedy with your resources.

Is this a fucking joke??? Either way, this is being posted so our followers can have a good laugh, and so they can see how qu**r activism harms us.

Actually, “sapphic” cannot and should not be applied to anyone who isn’t a female exclusively attracted to females. Sapphic is an adjective which comes from Sappho, a lesbian poet, therefore sapphic women are lesbian women.

Your argument here is quite ridiculous. You just named a bunch of so-called labels for those “poor people” who apparently have no other words for themselves. I don’t see why they need to steal a word which has belonged to lesbians for hundreds of fucking years (since the 1600s in fact), and goes back to Sappho, our foremother, a poet whose works are so fucking important to lesbians.

First of all the word “sapphic” itself is not a resource, but women who are sapphic/lesbians do have lesbian-only spaces, which should not be compromised for the sake of bi/pan people. I have no obligation to cater to genderspecial individuals or any individual who wants to call themselves lesbians when they are not, nor do any lesbians.

Just because you are one privileged lesbian who is willing to give up this word which you don’t really care for, or understand the importance of, it doesn’t mean any other lesbian has to cater to these people too.

All you’re doing by stating that we are “stingy” is throwing your lesbian sisters under the bus for dick-worshippers and males who have fetishes for lesbians and womanhood. The whole world is a heterosexual playground, I don’t see why bi women need lesbians to give up our culture for them. They can make their own culture and find their own words.

I am not “biphobic, panphobic or transphobic” for standing up for lesbians, and protecting our lesbian culture. Women who are as attracted to men as they are to women are not sapphic, they are not “gay”, nor “queer”… they are bisexual.It’s very disingenuous of you to come to us, lesbian women, and call us selfish for defending lesbians from appropriation of our words. It’s not about being selfish, it’s about protecting lesbians and lesbian spaces from being taken over by bisexual people. We already have everyone else telling us we are selfish and self centered because we are not attracted to and have no interested in men. Qu**r activism is just another platform for lesbophobia to manifest itself on.

LGBT has become a fucking joke. It’s not really surprising you have been taught by the BTs that lesbians can simply give up our words, because we are somehow less important than everyone else, us evil, selfish dykes.

I’m sorry you have been taught that your own lesbian culture can be tempered with and shared with people who are not lesbians. But we will not repeat these lies nor condone this kind of bullshit.

Think about it this way: would you be okay with a bisexual woman saying “I’m such a dyke”? I sure hope not, because “dyke” is a slur which has been used against lesbians. Why would anyone other than us reclaim it, when it is us lesbians that it is used against? Anyone who isn’t a lesbian reclaiming a slur for lesbian is not okay.

While “sapphic” is not a slur, it is part of lesbian history, and we must work to keep it this way. Did you know “lesbian” also comes from Sappho? We are called lesbians because of the island of Lesbos, where Sappho lived. If we give up “sapphic” to anyone who wishes to claim it, how long until “lesbian” gets stolen too? We must own sapphic, we must own lesbianism and be proud of it, lesbians are all the daughters of Sappho, from Lesbos. We have history, we are no isolated. If we give up lesbian words and lesbian spaces, we are giving in and contributing to the erasure of lesbians.

So many of our followers send us asks saying they feel isolated, alone, like they’re the only lesbian around, and that exclusively same sex attracted women are somehow disappearing. That’s just not true. We must have community, and in order to keep our community we must claim the words which belong to us.

I hope this explains why I feel so strongly about sapphic being a lesbian word.

/Mod A 💞

#lesbophobia #homophobia #lesbiansafe #lmfao what fucking resources are you referring to here #a word is not a fucking resource #answered asks #mod a #d slur #q slur

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pansexual-link-larkin · 7 years

Text

The V Team (A B Team Fic)

just a little something I whipped up for @livbelcik for the @webseriesfemslashexchange.

It’s a little all over the place but just take it at face value and enjoy the kiddos

Viola and Sebastian Messing had always been really good at first days at school. Sebastian was naturally super social, and then Vi would hang out with him and his friends and find her own people that way.

First day at Elysium High was not like this. Sebastian didn’t really seem to hit it off with many people, so he stuck to his best friend since birth, his sister. They did literally everything at school together for a week. And then they were at each other’s throats. They needed friends.

“Hey, anyone in here?” Sebastian called into an empty art room during lunch. Surprisingly enough, a cabinet door popped open, revealing a curled up figure, a mop of hair illuminated only by the light from a Nintendo DS.

“Hi, is it okay if I hang here for a bit? I thought I’d give my sister a chance to breathe.”

“yeah, sure, are you new?” “you bet. Name’s Sebastian Messing.” “Oh great hi! I’m Omar. Omar Tree.”

It wasn’t until Sebastian disappeared that Viola noticed her. Tall, tan, toned, just like the girls back in California. Viola hated cliché descriptors of women but her legs really did shoot from her shorts. V could tell an athlete from a mile off, and this was definitely one. The girl was pinning a flyer to the bulletin board. After waiting an appropriate amount of time for her to leave, Viola went up to read it.

“Elysium’s Soccer Team needs you!”

Huh. Soccer. Vi had never really considered it. It might be fun. This was, after all, a soccer school. It would be nice to be on a noteworthy team for once. But then Viola’s eye caught the boy’s football tryout flyer and there’s no way she could resist that! She made a note to tell Seb that they were later that day.

Viola found herself at the same bulletin board the next day. Staring at another flyer. One with a list of names: Oren, Drew, Corey, Vic, Ben, Aaron, etc... Ah, there it is. Sebastian Messing. And no Viola.

She looked over at the girls’ soccer flyer.

“Elysium’s Soccer Team needs you! Our 3-time State champs are looking for enthusiastic girls ready to conquer the championships!”

Enthusiastic? Viola thought, kinda.

Ready to conquer? Kinda.

Girl? Kinda.

Kinda was enough.

It had been years since Viola tried out for a girls’ team and honestly, she was a little intimidated. She was wearing one of her brother’s old practice jerseys and felt wildly out of place surrounded by Soffees and crop tops.

Jeez, Viola thought, apparently, I’m too girly for the boys’ team but lord knows I don’t fit in here.

She was a football player, sure, but she was a kicker. So surely those skills had to transfer somehow. Varsity should be a cakewalk.

“Alright ladies,” the tall girl said, whistled and clipboarded, “It’s great to see such a turnout. I’m Jennifer Lestrade, and I’ll be your captain this year. We’ve got two teams, varsity and B Team. I will be captaining both, because I’m good at prioritizing and time management. Remember, no matter how you do, you are an athlete because you are here. I know you’re all hoping for Varsity but there is no such thing as a bad team. Now let’s see whatcha got!”

The drills were, in a word, torturous. Viola knew how to kick a still ball far and high. A moving ball slalomed through cones? Not her specialty. But her years in scrimmages with her special team special boy brother gave her at least decent defense skills.

And it wasn’t like she was the worst one there. Other girls were struggling too, to the point where the cheerleaders practicing on the track stopped to watch and laugh. Lestrade reminded them to ignore the laughs and focus, but still, the giggles persisted. After the relief of the final whistle, a fit cheerleader with her hair in space buns jogged over and V could hear her confront Lestrade:

“So, you need a manager, right?”

“No thank you, I’m perfectly capable by myse—“

“yeah, you need a manager. I’ll do it.”

“...okay?”

“Name’s Lin. Lin Thropupland. Next game’s what, Saturday?”

“Yeah, but”

“I’ll see you then. I’ll bring orange slices.”

Another day, another flyer. Finally, one bearing good news: the results from tryouts. After she nearly twisted her ankle dribbling, Viola had lowered her standards and wasn’t expecting to make a team at all. But there she was, on the B Team, along with:

Jennifer Lestrade – Forward (not a surprise)

Anne Shirley – Striker (V wanted this position but she saw Anne and when she tried she could score with a brick wall in front of the goal)

Beatrice Duke – Vice-Captain and Head Midfielder (Bea kept joking about how she didn’t want to be on Varsity so it could be the “Bea Team”)

Mary Lennox – Midfielder (big surprise. Seemed like she knew most of the varsity players and played just as well as them.)

Viola Messing – Midfielder (V reminded herself to google what a midfielder does other than stand in the middle of the field)

Violet Hunter – Midfielder (made a joke about making a band with Viola called Viola and the Violettes)

Erica Slender – Defender (referred to herself with both she and they pronouns, making V very happy!!)

Charley Condomine – Defender (Apparently tried out because her therapist told her to get a hobby. Protective of the goal but not very good at protecting it.)

Nimmie Tree – Defender (kept yelling at the ball but it seemed to work. Very good at throw ins. Did not like seeing Lin become manager)

Serena Berg - Defender (seemed to know where everyone should be. V reminded herself to ask her for advice)

Zoe Lasnammer – Goalie (kept talking about like five other projects during tryouts. How does she have the time?)

Well, that was her team. It was going to be one crazy spring.

Sebastian got along great with the boys on the football team. They started calling him Seahorse because his name has “sea” in it and he is fast. Like a horse. Not the best, but a nickname is a nickname. Still, all that broness gets exhausting and that’s what Omar was best at. Omar started showing up to school in eyeliner and eventually Sebastian tried it as well. It wasn’t long until Oren, the football captain, smudged a black coal line along his lash line and melted the hearts of half the cheerleading squad.

The B Team was totally bonded halfway first the first practice thanks to the almost clinical teambuilding activities of Jennifer Lestrade. In the locker room, Viola asked Violet about her.

“So the captain is she...?”

“who? Lezzzz-strade?”

“yeah, is she straight or what?”

“if anyone knew practice would be a lot less confusing. I personally think she’s straight but Bea swears up and down she’s got some Sapphic blood. I think it’s just wishful thinking.”

“I don’t know Violet, I think I have to agree with Bea.”

“...how much do you agree with her?”

“what do you mean?”

“do you ten bucks agree with her?”

“heck yes.”

“Ill add you to the list.”

*****One average season later******

The final game of the season wasn’t a big deal to the school but it was to the B team. And to the cheerleaders, there to support their former squad member on the sidelines just as much as the team. And the football team, who Sebastian took to one practice and could barely keep up with the girls. It was the same day as the team banquet so the day was doubly special.

Right after school let out Oren, Sebastian and the rest of the boys interrupted warm ups to show they had painted “GO B TEAM!” on their shirts. Omar was the exclamation point. They hung around and helped with some of the drills.

They won the game 1-0, but Zoe was given quite the workout with a bunch of close calls. They celebrated way too over the top, with Lin and a cheerleader spontaneously kissing at on the sidelines. Fists were bumped and pumped, squees were squeed, hugs were hugged.

At the banquet, Viola was so impressed by how well her teammates cleaned up. She brought Sebastian, both of them wearing suits, his colorful and casual, hers classic with an undone bow tie around her neck.

Jennifer was dressed a sleek black jumpsuit and her usual high ponytail of curls was freed and let loose, falling onto her shoulders. She arrived on the arm of a cheerleader. And petty criminal, if the rumors were to be believed.

“Vi, Violet, this is my datemate Wiggins. Wiggins, this is Viola and and I think you know Violet.”

“Yeah, we’ve hung out.” They upnodded at Viola and escorted Lestrade to the captain’s table.

Violet grinned. “So...do I pay you or...?”

“Let’s just call it a draw.”

“Sounds good.”

The banquet was the highlight of Viola’s whole year. She for once had found a team that doubled as her best friends, and her brother could get all the football attention instead of having to share it with her.

“Yooooo Seahorse!” Sebastian turned to see Running Back Ben of all people sitting next to Bea.

Viola raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian what have you been up to?”

“Vee, once I shenan, I must shenan-again.” Viola groaned at the joke and playfully punched him.

She looked around at Zoe and Lin planning some event together, at Anne and Mary making moony eyes at each other, Erica and Charley debating the ethics of séances, Serena and Nimmie just plain debating...

Yeah, this was her team.

#lord help me I finally finished it #sorry I had to put my daughters Charley and Serena in there #time for sleep #ill add more tags later

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