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coffee-and-geto · 2 months ago

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A DISTRACTION? OR A DUTY-FULFILLING BOYFRIEND?

“You’re losing your mind again, sweetheart?” he mumbles as his lips crash against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. “Then let me do it twice.”

pairing: professor!gojo x f!reader

summary: what could be worse than giving your all to a school assignment only to see yourself fail with no chance of catching up? helplessness is a real haunt. but having a boyfriend under your arm who fulfills his duties, that’s just downright better.

warnings: MDNI +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, angst, fluff, fingering (f! receiving), sex p in v, unprotected sex, spoon position, morning sex, teasing, love making, overstimulation, creampie, art by @/3-aem.

wc: 3,749

masterlist | next part

Among all the sensations you may have studied during your PhD years, never, as a student, has the idea of feeling the world crumble around you in front of your powerlessness crossed your mind to the point of being a victim.

In fact, it’s more accurate to call it your world.

The Earth hasn’t stopped spinning, there are no earthquakes, no one is screaming or running away from the university to take refuge anywhere.

It’s just you, standing in front of a white lab bench littered with glassware of all shapes and sizes, from Erlenmeyer flasks to tubes and test tubes — there’s hardly any space to rest a hand. The oppressive silence seems to come alive despite the luxury of the large space provided by your university’s funds, which ensure that you always have the best equipment available for your students.

But it doesn’t matter when the silence wraps its anxiety-laden hands around your neck to strangle you like a sleep paralysis that urges you never to wake up from your nightmare.

Oh, if only it were a nightmare.

In your hand is your phone, the screen lit with a white light, leaving words typed in black ink at your attention, with nothing to defend you against, nothing.

No ammunition, no power, no control except an imposed acceptance in response to your research grant sent over a month ago that has perhaps 200 words to explain for the one word that remains etched in your retina was written, typed, and sent with the utmost cruelty:

Refused.

Once you’ve imprinted the word in you, everything collapses around you.

The clock in the room never stops ticking, advancing its hands with constancy, regularity and rigidity. Nothing stands in its way.

Whereas for you, it’s as if the world has stopped.

Nothing in you responds. All your limbs move, pick things up, move forward, backward, away. But something remains off.

The almost empty corridors of the few strolling students are invisible, the occasional muffled chatter in your ears, the cold wind scratching your face as pale as a sheet is nothing compared to the din your head produces.

No, no, no, no…

It’s a nightmare…

Just wake up…

The door to Satoru’s office swings open, the strength of the wood and your grip creating a draught that blows away sheets he’s carefully stacked to slip into his bag to end his day.

“What’s going—”

Remaining standing in front of the door, which you soon close with more force than you’d like, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down in front of him, even though the urge is more than seductive. Your heart is pumping wildly in your ribcage — so hard, in fact, that the thought of tachycardia crosses your mind.

There’s little light in the classroom laboratory, so it’s the yellowish glow of the lights that melts onto your skin, casting tired shadows on Satoru’s face.

He scrutinizes you, cautious and hands still frozen just above his desk where his papers still lie. His normally impeccably pressed white shirt is slightly creased beneath his black tie. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms with colored veins sinuating his milky skin.

His mouth parted for a second, the words hanging on the tip of his lips but stopping all sound in their tracks.

“What happened?” he finally mouths.

The hand holding your phone tightens its fingers around the screen, which threatens to crack under the force of your pressure, and then the muscles in your face are the first to betray you.

Chin trembling, the lips curved downwards, eyebrows and eyes crinkled in a vain attempt to suppress tears, and a silent sob escaping like a sellout.

Immediately, Satoru’s two large, powerful and familiar arms encircle your body as it collapses against him. More sobs join the burning tears dripping down your cheeks, some of which crash onto his shirt while others get lost who knows where.

“Hey, hey. I’m here my love, I’ve got you.” Your boyfriend’s warm, comforting breath caresses your hair with the utmost tenderness. His embrace tightens slightly as you flinch. “Let’s go home together, okay?”

You nod feebly. An unpleasant headache tenses your skull and one thing is all you need: your home.

Your home is Satoru and his home.

The journey blurs through your eyes. The darkening sky is bleak, as is your mood. A few raindrops splash against the windscreen of Satoru’s car, driving with a certain tension and stiffness in his gestures.

One of his hands is busy driving while the other remains on your thigh, thumb drawing absent circles on the fabric of your pants as his serious gaze alternates between the rear-view mirror and the road ahead. Confronted by your ponderous silence, Satoru doesn’t utter a word, leaving you to curl up in your seat, your temple resting against the icy glass that relieves your headache a little.

In his apartment, the routine continues. Usually, you both shower, eat dinner, go about your university duties — him preparing lectures and correcting papers, and you studying lectures and doing homeworks. But just after the shower he gives up on swallowing anything when you shake your head as he beckons you to question your appetite.

And so, at 9pm, the two of you are curled up in his fresh blankets, your exhausted head resting on his comfortable chest.

He listens for a good hour as you tell him that your research grant has just been rejected — the one for which you’ve sacrificed your sanity, hours of sleep and even your social life to make it as perfect as possible — and that there’s nothing you can do about it. Your tears flood Satoru’s T-shirt as he listens intently, blowing your own nose when your sobs clog it red and runny. He wipes away all your tears, kisses your whole face, your hair, your neck, whispering words of comfort.

“You’re not a failure, love,” he whispers against the shell of your ear as you go silent after getting all your sorrow off your chest. “Just because you were rejected doesn’t mean you failed.”

“I failed,” you insist in a hoarse voice, eyelids closed. “Other people were taken, and I wasn’t. I deserved it, Satoru...”

“You did not.” He kisses your cheek and then your temple. “The person who turned you down may have been unfair, but you didn’t fail. Missing an opportunity doesn’t mean you’re doomed. Missing something doesn’t make the world stop, love.“

The words hit as hard as a punch, but fall as softly as an umpteenth kiss.

“There’s nothing stupid about your project, it’s perfect. It just needs to be seen by the right people.” One of his hands slowly strokes your hair, each finger passing between your strands as he gently detangles them. “You’re capable and brilliant, don’t ever doubt it.”

Your lips — swollen from your earlier tears — moisten again with more silent weeping. Under your weary nod, he sighs softly and adjusts the comforter over you both, making sure it covers you up to the shoulders.

“I love you, remember?” He peppers your head with soft kisses, closing his eyes as he feels you sniffle against his t-shirt. When you nod a second time, he lifts up your chin between his thumb and forefinger to press another slow kiss against your lips.

Your heart flutters by the second. With equal tenderness, you return his kiss, humming to keep from laughing as his hands slide up your torso to tickle you while he steals your breath.

Lips against lips, you feel Satoru’s stretch into a smile at your reaction and he releases you with an even firmer, more reassuring embrace.

“Love you so much, baby.”

“Me too,” you mumble, face buried into his neck.

He sighs, still stroking your hair back and forth while staying silent. In the bedroom, there is no sound. The simple silence of your love, which needs no words to express itself.

~~~~

Early the next morning, Satoru’s eyelids flutter open, bothered by the orange sunbeams that have managed to sneak in between the slats of the blinds at his windows.

His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, which earned him a smile of triumph: a delight — a luxury even — that even the wealthiest like him couldn’t always afford. Waking up before his alarm goes off is one of Satoru’s favorite moments in his life.

He can admire your sleeping face, still savoring oh how comfortable it is to hold you in his big, spoon-shaped arms in bed, how soft the steady sound of your heart beating peacefully in your chest is, or how steady your breath is, like a lullaby to him.

Then, taking advantage of the moment’s peace, he pulls you a little tighter into his arms, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as it drifts from your hair and nestles his chin in the hollow between your shoulder and neck. The warmth of your two hearts is enough to melt him.

He places a gentle kiss on your cheek, close to your jaw.

The action has the immediate effect of waking you up almost involuntarily. Of course, he wants to let you rest before tackling the long day ahead with him, but he also wants to be able to cover you with his love while you’re conscious.

A soft hum escapes your lips and you squirm a little, sticking your back even more to Satoru’s torso for added warmth.

A smile cracks his lips and he holds back a gasp when your ass rubs against his crotch. “Morning, sweetheart,” he manages to whisper close to your ear with a little raspy voice. “Did you sleep well?”

Keeping your eyelids closed, you continue to rub against him, a smile as amused as it is relaxed in his protective arms.

“Mhmmm…”

“What are you doing?” he mumbles, kissing your jaw, fingers creeping up your chin to make you face him.

“Need you,” you pant back, trying to take off the cover lazily because the heat on how turned on you’re getting is choking you, but it’s harder when Satoru is now pressing his mouth against yours with firm kisses.

“You’re losing your mind again, sweetheart?” he mumbles as his lips crash against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. “Then let me do it twice.”

He helps you free yourself from the comforter and himself at the same time before running his hands up your shirt and pressing his already hard erection against your ass.

For a few seconds, the room is filled with nothing but breaths, a little heavy after the last one, warmer and faster. Sounds of wet kisses and rustling clothes too. Just your two bodies rubbing against each other in search of more until your first moan echoes louder when Satoru decides to play with your breasts, pinching a sensitive nipple under your t-shirt.

The gesture sends a delicious wave of electric pleasure to your crotch. In a reflex stride, you discard your pajama pants for a better sensation of friction, in hope to chase your highest pleasure.

“Oh God, you don’t even have to ask.” And Satoru gets rid of his own pajama pants and leaves himself in just boxers and a T-shirt. This is what he’s been loving in his daily life since you came into his life. Those warm mornings when you let your bodies do the talking for you.

Apart from the thin fabric separating your bodies, there’s nothing to stop you going further, but Satoru likes to savor and tease before tackling the main event. Sliding his palms first over your hot, soft-skinned hips, you take the opportunity to spread your legs without getting out of your spooning position with him, which makes things even hotter.

Access made free, Satoru’s fingers find their way to the wet spot on your underwear. A shiver runs through you, and you freeze, waiting for him to stimulate you in earnest. Slowly, his forefinger moves down your clit, wet with your active arousal. He taps it gently at first, then circles around it, spreading more and more of your juices as much on your core as on the fabric.

“Need me here?” he breathes in your ear, admiring how your face went from a pout to a little parted lips face and eyelids half-closed. “Or here?” He smirks. His index finger glides over your soaked panties to stop at your entrance. “It's pulsing, baby.”

“Need you on both,” you whisper in a breath. Your head is spinning like a dizzy woman drunk on pleasure. Or rather drunk on your boyfriend.

“As I see, I need to relax my girl to fulfill my duty.” He pushes your underwear to the side, and you gasp when his finger finds you, slipping easily between your folds. You moan, grinding into his hand, every nerve alive with the pleasure of his touch. He smirks, moving his fingers just how you like it, circling with precision.

He’s gentle in his gestures, but also teasing. He caresses with tender your most intimate parts — through your sensitive folds, rubbing your clit, and finally sinking a long, thick finger into you. From the last time the two of you had sex, Satoru doubts a second that it was longer ago than expected. Because God, you are so tight.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he whispers, the words sending a jolt of heat through you. He knows how to push your buttons, how to make you feel like you are falling apart in his hands. And you are — completely lost in him, in the moment.

Your walls squeeze his finger as if your life depends on it. He can barely pump at all with how it is sucked.

“Relax, darling, you’re tight.” As if to punctuate his sentence, he places butterfly kisses on the side of your neck, his breath tickling your jaw.

At the end, you obey, breathing out as your muscles unclench. Satisfied, Satoru resumes his activity and pumps his finger deeper into you, the pad looking for the sweet spot that will make you scream his name — as always.

Your moans multiply, little sounds that you try to muffle without much success as Satoru fingers you more and more, reveling in your sounds. A tight little knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a sign that you’re not long for coming.

“Satoru— Ah, ’m close,” you gasp, your hands gripping his wrist and forearm with all your might to keep from losing your head. “I’m—”

But your own cry cuts you off as your orgasm crashes over you, exploding around Satoru’s finger. The latter doesn’t stop yet, keeping it inside while it’s moving in and out of you until you’re dripping all over his knuckles buried deep.

Your breaths contrast, despite the fact that the room temperature feels like it’s risen by ten degrees. Yours is heaviest and fastest, in response to the aftermath of your perfect orgasm. Satoru’s is faster — slightly — due to the fact that he’s getting hotter and hotter by the arousal you’re giving him without doing anything (madly boys in love effect).

Slowly, Satoru withdraws his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth. You wince when he licks them as if they were covered with the most delicious flavor in the world. He punctuates each lick with a suction noise.

“You gross,” you mumble, feeling how weak your legs feel now. You try to sit up, but Satoru is quicker. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close. “What are you—”

You can feel his cock straining against his boxers, and the sound of his breathing growing heavier against your nape makes your own body ache with anticipation. Satoru’s grip was still soft, but there was an urgency to it now — like he is just as desperate for more as you are.

“Don’t you dare leave me like that, darling,” he threatens with a still playful, dangerous tone. “You’re not done with me yet.”

You swallow thick. Your heart hammers in your ribcage, anticipation coursing through your body like an electric circuit.

“Need you, sweetheart,” he breaths. “May I?”

“Just fuck me already, Satoru,” you mutter, ass grinding against his erection. He hisses, fingers clenching around your hips and waist.

“No fuck today. Love making only.” He peppers small kisses on your warm cheek before taking off his last cloth and guides his hard-rock and painful cock against your dripping slick. The fat head rubs teasingly against your entrance, tempting and enticing to make you ache and lose your mind. At every stroke, your walls squeeze around nothing, begging for something to stretch them.

“Don’t tease— Ah,” you whimper, lowering your hips for more. But it keeps the tip from sinking. So you pout slightly, a cute frowning your eyebrows. “I hate you.”

“Love you more,” he chuckles, still holding his length, brushing off how it’s twitching for you, as wet with pre as you are. “First, you need to say that you need me.”

“Satoru!” you protest.

“You know how I am,” he chortles. You wring your neck to meet his entertained eyes, a gleam of neediness but also frustration in your that turns him even more. “Beg, sweetheart.”

“I need you,” you mumble, your breathing hot brushing his lips.

Fuck.

He mouths, “Where?”

“Inside me.”

“Ask nicely now.”

You sigh in frustration. “I need you inside me now, please.” And to make him fall for you, you blink with your doe eyes, which work every time. “Satoru.”

He parts his lips, entranced by all your features, eyes lost into your soul. Lord, you are the most beautiful woman on the earth.

“Lift your leg for me.” It’s an order. But you happily comply, offering him your leg, every detail of which he worships, and take it under his arm to gain access to your welcoming entrance. When his cock stands there, ready and twitching just at your heat radiating like fire. “Ready?” You nod.

Then, in one smooth motion, he is inside you, and you gasp, your back arching off his back as he stretches you open. Satoru’s mouth finds your neck again, kissing and sucking as his hips begin to move up, slow and deliberate at first, letting you adjust to the feeling of him filling you completely.

“Fuck,” you moan, the stretch of him feeling so right, so perfect, that you can’t help but tighten around him. Satoru groans in response, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he sets a faster pace. One of your hands finds his forearm and holds it like a life preserver from his thrusts that are making the bed creak underneath the two of you, and the other tangles the nearest sheets.

“You’re so tight, so fucking tight,” he murmurs, his voice strained with effort as his thrusts grow harder, more urgent. Your nails dig into his forearm and sheets as you pull him closer, your legs trembling to the rhythm of a crescendo, one trapped because slightly lifted up by Satoru’s arm as you take him deeper.

Every thrust, every movement is a sweet, slow burn that makes your entire body shiver with need. In the wake of his thrusts, Satoru’s lips manage to find yours, kissing you deeply as his hands roam over your body, worshiping you like you are the only thing that matters.

“I love you so damn much,” he mumbles against your swollen lips while another deep slam into you drags you out a cry.

And then, without warning, Satoru shifts, adjusting his angle just enough to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You gasp, your back arching off his back again as your body trembles before his.

He smirks against your lips. “Found it,” he whispers.

You can’t form words — only moans and gasps as he repeats the movement, his cock hitting that sweet, perfect spot with each thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you feel your body tightening, the pressure building in your core.

Satoru’s pace never faltered, his thrusts deep and relentless as he took you closer and closer to the edge. His breath was ragged in your ear, his fingers digging into your hips, and you could hear the sound of skin slapping together, the wet sounds of your bodies moving in sync.

“You feel so good, baby” he groans, his voice strained. “Don’t hold back.”

You can’t stop it — can’t stop the way your body reacts to him. The way the pressure in your core is building, until you are teetering on the edge of something incredible. Satoru’s name escapes your lips in a breathless cry, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits hard, your entire body shaking as the wave of pleasure consumes you.

Satoru doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his hips not stopping rutting up against yours and his hands never leaving your leg up and hip as he continues to chase his own release. He’s close, so close, and you can feel it in the way his thrusts grew sloppier, the way his breath hitches in your ear.

With a final, deep thrust, he cums, filling you completely with a groan that sends a wave of satisfaction through your own body. You both stay laid down for a moment, catching your breath, still glued together as you slowly come down from the high.

You turn over painfully on the bed to face him, his member still softening inside you. Your limbs are still trembling from the intense physical activity, and Satoru takes the opportunity to pull you even closer by the waist. His forehead rests against yours, his hands gentle on your hips as he pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he kisses your forehead.

You smile, still breathless, but feeling that delicious satisfaction spread through you. “Another round before heading off to uni?” you tease, your fingers lightly tracing his chest.

“We’ll be late, you know?” He traces the contour of your face with the tip of his fingers and pecks a kiss from time to time.

“Maybe my professor won’t blame me this time, will he?”

“You little spoiled princess,” he snorts, pressing another kiss on your nose. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You smirk. “And you’re so lucky to have me.”

“I will never deny that.”

a/n: hellooooo!! how are you guys? 🥹 first, i’m sorry for my inactivity :(( i’ve been busy with school and all (+ i wasn’t ovulating lol). i wrote this little part 1 because i was frustrated about a competion i lost (law will make you cry your soul, trust me). also sorry for the little angst, i can’t help myself lmao. i hope you enjoyed this and see you soon!

likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

for the tag list, i’ll try to add more ppl when i’ll have the time, i’m sorry in advance for those who came after i temporary closed it <3 you’ll be tagged for the next part for sure :) if you want to be tagged, pls put your age in bio and ask here.

tag list: @izumkay , @lostfracturess , @nariminsstuff , @superdonkeypatroleggs , @0hisu , @iheartgojoo66 , @cax-per , @not-aya , @petalsrdead , @kimkimoruo , @indiewritesxoxo , @paolarox01 , @reverrieee , @billiondollarworth , @myahfig4 , @lilac-witch , @markliving , @sukunaslilsocks , @hyori2 , @lilychan176 , @yvesdoee , @redbambii , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @princess-bblgm , @oh-my-god-donald , @etsuniiru , @ethereal-moonlit , @lymsfm , @mutsu422 , @bearwithmoo , @chiiiiiichan , @ziggy0stardust , @purplegemadventures , @shibataimu , @chich1ookie , @c-moon20-12 , @cyrenees , @tbzzluvr , @kimvmarvel , @leabyjulia , @flowerpot113 , @luvvcho , @nanaosaki3940 , @rriwyu , @heybeebax , @satorugojoisamenace , @euhphoq , @aleviia , @hellowoolf , @petalshxwer , @gojo-caturo , @ssrist , @winniethepooh-lover , @kiriyue , @your-mum3000 , @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 , @satorusmochis

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taiey · 8 months ago

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a minor analysis of Manepear's manipulation (mane-ipulation)

A few thoughts to frame the discussion: Clownpierce has the mace; Clownpierce has not yet died. Clownpierce doesn't log on very often, and of everyone on the server Clownpierce is closest to Kaboodle.

With that in mind... 1hr 13min into 'A New Leaf..?', after a lot of open honest conversation about the war, morality, honour and Mane's potential as an interior decorator, Kaboodle brings up her constancy towards Clownpierce and Manepear starts telling her she should put herself first, because Clown doesn't.

He starts with the basic, obvious facts: Clown doesn't log on very often, he's never attacked Mane for her, he's never sacrificed himself for her like she has for him. Even... Woogie..? backs him up on all that.

Then she starts bringing up counter-examples and he pushes back, with subtle mis-framings like "it would have been easy for him to say I searched for Mapic on purpose so that I could get back for you" when, like, I saw that video and I bet you did too, he said that to Mapicc, and not to Kaboodle. Or brushing off that time he did fight Mane's team as if there's "10 people he knows he's not going to get targeted and if he gets a kill on Main and Flame that would be huge for him", when, uh, it's not that Mane has specific knowledge that the other group chat was considering jumping Clown for the mace earlier in the day, but I do feel that dynamic is sufficiently common knowledge.

I've actually had this thought before because I thought that he was, I was, I was confident that he was betraying me cuz I was thinking like "why would Clownpierce betray and and use everybody except for me? how does that make any sense? why would I be the only one?" and it doesn't make sense like nothing would make me special

Drawing parallels digs into her fears without him directly saying she's not special so as to elicit sympathy and not offense. (and pay no attention to the dissimilarities in their relationships to clown)

I think it was easy for him to defend you from Subz because he knows that he can kill Subz but if it was me in that situation I'm not so sure if he would he would have done the same thing

(y'know i didn't actually notice at the time that uh that's a very different line than his Subz Glazing to Zam&Mapicc)

Mane: did he leave my alliance or did I force him out? Kab: you did force him out Mane: he didn't have a choice not to choose you Kab: yeah that's a horrible... Mane: [crosstalk] he could have at least shot me a DM—wait! Oh my gosh! I just remembered

Things I did not notice on first listen: sorry, when could he have shot you a DM? When you turned on him?? No, no, that segue makes no sense. Mane absolutely did not "just remember". DMs only came into this because he wanted a segue into: his climactic reveal.

When I was looking for your base, I told him about my, my plan to find you using dogs, and he was telling me how to do it more efficiently.

So. Let's look at [the screenshots that i copied off someone else o7]

The first thing that stood out to me, as I was watching the stream, was this: Mane says "he was telling me how to do it more efficiently", and then he lets Kab stew in that for a bit, and then he sends her these screenshots. The framing is set up. But there is not one line in there that is Clown giving Mane advice on how to track her.

The nearest he gets to advice is "she knows when you do tho". Mane glosses that to Kab as "he was telling me exactly what not to do as well", but listen: look at it. The closest he gets to advice is: maybe don't track her. Maybe you shouldn't even try.

Mane asked "what should I say", he relates it like it's another example of advice, which looks like it could lead to advice, and then the screenshot cuts off. And... it's shorter than the first one. We know for an absolute fact that the height is not limited by, say, the height of the screen. It cuts off there because whatever comes after that does not back up the narrative Mane's selling her.

Laughing about her, saying she's scared: it's emotionally affecting, but it's not actionable information. It does not help Mane find Kab. All it does is give the feeling that Clown is on Mane's side.

After exiting the conversation Kaboodle grieves to chat about it; she starts off thinking of it as"actively telling Mane how to find me is, is..." but a few minutes later she's caught on to "if you look at the messages he's not actively selling me out"; she has prior history of coming back the next day going hang on...

Very interested to see how far she gets with it. That thing with the dogs was streamed live; I watched it. The memory of it tickled at my brain, so after today's ended I tracked it down, and found:

youtube

Clownpierce: Did he find the manepears? What? Kaboodle: So all the manepears teleported to me when they hit, when he hit them. Clown: [AWKWARD LAUGHTER] Kab, fearless: I'm thousands of blocks away, I'm really far away. Clownpierce: Maybe they... they sometimes do move in the direction they teleport to, maybe he knows the location. Maybe - maybe move around.

Clownpierce was DMing Manepear saying "ok good idea"—and then, on a call with Kaboodle, telling her Mane's tactic and what to do about it.

(He doesn't maximally betray Mane, he doesn't tell her he knows Mane's doing that or tell her before it starts happening; there's a degree of trying to stay on both sides. But he isn't neutral, and he is ultimately, materially, on Kab's side.)

I, like Kaboodle, saw Manepear's "removing all netherite" video and really enjoyed it (the twists genuinely surprised me) but there was this doubt where—videos and not streams usually feel this way to me—I wasn't sure whether, to convince the server that he wasn't the guy on his friend's account, he had to actually convince them. I just knew that was a kind of story he wanted to tell, and hoped he'd try it on Lifesteal.

Now, though, I believe it. I've seen maybe two other fandom people even doubting this. I believe he did because I see he can. And oh my goodness I love it.

#lifesteal spoilers #kaboodle #manepear #clownpierce #lifesteal smp #lifesteal #meta

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riding-the-cyclone · 6 months ago

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My RtC wing au :D (originally posted on amino, if you recognize it)

Ocean - Starling

•Starlings are naturally invasive and considered annoying by many.

• This social expectation helped push Ocean into her perfectionism.

• The wings resemble an oil spill

• Despite contextual meanings, Ocean loves how her wings look

• A collective of starlings is called a “chattering” because they’re very social

Noel - Raven

Half hates his wings half loves them

• Pretty much the opposite of Ocean; Hates how they look, loves the implications

• Lots of people think of ravens negatively (creepy, dirty, tricky)

• Poetic meanings behind ravens make it worth it to Noel

• Enjoys flying (unlike Ocean) but will never do it in front of anyone

Misha - Osprey

• The only bird on the list not native to Canada (native to Ukraine, of course)

• Very expressive with his wings whether it’s intimidation or passion

• An Osprey being a type of hawk contributed to Mischa’s title of Angriest Boy in Town

• Mischa has the biggest wings out of the group

• A group of Ospreys are called a “duet”, which isn’t pertinent, but I find it fun since. choir

Ricky - Grey Catbird

• Couldn’t resist giving Ricky this one

• He can’t fly, but he can still move his wings and he’s even more expressive than Mischa

• There are all sorts of decorations woven into his feathers, he likes to tie things in or dye feathers when he has a moment

• When he uses his wheelchair, there are shields that protect his wings from the wheels

• During SABM he 100% comes out with them bedazzled

Penny - Chestnut Sided Warbler

•A songbird, of course (sponsored by Jane’s soprano self)

• Her brother’s wings aren’t the same as hers (Baird’s Sparrow), so when he mentioned he was jealous of the yellow in her wings she started dying his for him so they could match

• As Jane, her wings were shadows and she could fly without flapping them (freaking the others out, of course)

• Her wings jitter when she gets nervous or excited. A lot of time she keeps them close to her body except while flying

• She makes up little games to play while flying, dragging Ezra or the choir into them

Constance - Grey Jay

•Canada’s national bird

• Not bullied for her wings, but not complimented for them, it makes her envy other’s wings

• She wanted to dye her entire wings, but her parents only allowed her to dye the ends to match her hair

• Very affectionate with her wings, using them to brush against or hold people she cares about

• The Blackwoods have protective covers for when they work at the cafe, kind of like hairnets

Feel free to mention headcannons and such if you have any :D I’d love to hear your ideas

#ride the cyclone #wing au #giggles in hyperfixation #ocean o'connell rosenberg #noel gruber #misha bachynskyi #ricky potts #penny lamb #constance blackwood #storm’s art #old art

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dolceterzo · 4 months ago

Text

See You In The Morning

Fandom: Ghost (The Band) Pairing: Terzo x Reader (GN) (Some terms of endearment are not strictly neutral, but there are no references to the reader's gender identity) Age Rating: 18+ | references to sex and fellatio, no actual smut Summary: Reader has a jaw/toothache, Terzo likes to think he has a theory on why. Word Count: 1002 Notes: Thank you so very much to @angellayercake for always hyping me up and checking things for me!

The clock chimes midnight on the mantle, sitting between a statuette of Baphomet and a photo of Terzo with his brothers, on a holiday in Florence. You glance around Papa's bedroom as you often did in the quiet, noticing something new each time. It was a fun activity you had for yourself, like collecting pick-ups in a video game. Except, this wasn’t a game, it was real life, your life - Papa’s bedroom was not just his bedroom anymore, it was yours to share.

Much to your secret pride.

If you were being honest, it was a feat not to run through the Ministry's halls in jubilation, announcing to all that would listen that Terzo had asked you to make your presence in his abode more permanent.

The happy flutters in your stomach were most definitely a contrast to the jarring ache in your jaw, nerves throbbing with a constancy that set your teeth on edge. Though you had cause for celebration and contentment of late, the everyday stresses of keeping a Satanic movement in, well, motion had taken its toll.

Papa was due to go on tour, and whilst some might expect a tale of woe and a tearful farewell, no such scene would be occurring for you. No, you were the tour manager, or rather the ‘Papa and Ghoul Wrangler’ as some liked to tease.

This meant a lot of planning, spreadsheeting, and final checking. Long nights with your small team of siblings making sure everything happened when and where it was meant to happen.

As such, it had left you massaging at your face as you perched on the bed, funnily enough listening to Terzo's toothbrush. The rhythmic bristle and hum of the device is oddly comforting as your eyes settle on the bathroom light, its warm glow pooling beneath the door and onto the wooden floor in the bedroom.

Of course it wasn't the noises nor the proverbial beacon of light that settled you.

Obviously it was the fact that you were there with Terzo, the sounds of his contentment in getting ready for bed. He was whistling to the tune of Kiss From A Rose, which was an unlikely choice that made you smile.

You would take the aches under these circumstances, rather than being alone with them in your old digs, back in the sometimes claustrophobic sibling domiciles of the abbey.

“Is that my fault?” Terzo's voice breaks you from your thoughts, you make a noise of confusion before realising he was referencing your jaw.

His mismatched eyes are alight with mischief, you roll your eyes teasingly.

“Alright, tiger. Though we both know it's entirely possible for you to have caused this…sorry to say it was the handiwork of grinding my teeth as I went through yet more contracts earlier.”

Terzo tsks softly, coming to sit beside you, that mischievous expressions takes on natural hues of concern. He’s got his pyjama pants on, wonderfully hairy chest bare for you to use as a pillow in due course. He was fresh as a daisy from his shower.

Gentle, warm, hands rest on your cheeks, nimble thumbs work in circles along the contour of your jaw, easing some of that tension away.

It has you moaning in content.

If you weren't both so tired, the next words out of Terzo's mouth would have you mounting him right there, riding him until he needed another shower.

“It's a shame, amore. The only time your jaw should know any work is when you've had my coc-”

You hand clasps over his mouth as he tries to finish his sentence, laughter rumbling through him.

He kisses your palm as you keep your hand over his mouth, huffs of amusement puffing through his nose.

You whine, “My love, you and I both know you can't finish what you start tonight, the only thing we're accomplishing is rest, so let's leave that sentence for another night, per favore?” You beg sweetly, needing him to not tease for fear of being too horned up to fall asleep.

He nods, you slowly release your fingers from his lips.

“Sorry, amore, you know you drive me to distraction.” He sighs, so forlorn. You would almost feel sorry for him if the discussion were not about sex.

Terzo stands, taking you by the hands to lead you to the top of the bed to climb in.

“Besides…” he continues, “Who knows when I'll finish that sentence, hm? Could be exactly 8 hours from now once we've recharged.” He raises his eyebrows, smiling like a salesman who knows he's offered you an irresistible deal.

It earns him a swat to his delightfully firm behind, to which he yelps rather dramatically.

Before long you're both beneath covers, your head planted on Terzo's chest as scheduled, hairs tickling your cheek, an arm wrapped around him with one of his draped over you. Your fingers brush up and down his side, moving back and forth as you find the softness of his belly - it’s gentle, affectionate, surprisingly un-erotic. In kind Terzo plants light kisses to your hair, all between shared sleepy giggles from the both of you.

There's a slight giddiness at the thought of being recharged to have sex in the morning. It was something both of you would class as important enough to be on the official itinerary if necessary.

“Goodnight, Terzo.” You mumble, jaw ache all but forgotten as your extremities relax, his warmth blending with your own.

“Buonanotte, tesoro.” He hums, making sure you were right where you belonged as he squeezed you gently in his arms.

There's a beat of silence before Terzo's voice murmurs in the darkness, “Tesoro?”

“Mhm, yes, love?” You answer, only half awake.

“Are you thinking about my dick in your mouth?”

You make a disgruntled noise, lightly pinching gently at his side, “Go to sleep, Terzo.”

He sighs wistfully, nuzzling further into your neck, his leg slipping between yours. “Si, bellezza, see you in the morning then.”

“See you in the morning.”

Fin.

#terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost fanfiction #dolceterzo writing

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 1 year ago

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Some more obscure and / or underrated lesbian literature : An incomplete list made by a lesbian in hopes of making other sapphics happy

(I haven’t read all of them)

Sorted by years (this rapidly became a history lesson of lesbian literature sorry I’m a nerd)

Ancient times

(A good article about lesbians in ancient greece / rome)

Queen Zhuang Jiang 庄姜 (???- BC 690) / We know about Sappho and Enheduanna, but what about her? She wrote poems some of which were, uh, pretty gay. I learnt about her here. It is said than her poems are in The Book of Songs (which is a collection of ancient Chinese poetry). I couldn’t find a lot about her but I found enough to believe than (hopefully) she was a real person and the internet isn't lying to me.

Dialogues of the courtesans - Lucian of Samosata (somewhere in the second century BC) / Basically Dialogues of the courtesans is a collection of dialogues between well, courtesans (prostitutes). Either between themselves or between clients. One of the dialogues is called “The Lesbians”. Link to read (somehow finding a pdf of Dialogues of the courtesans is pretty hard but reading it chapter by chapter online it’s not??)

The Babyloniaka - Iamblichus (somewhere in the second century AC) / Lost novel, so all you need to know is here

Of course we can’t forget this Pompeii poem

1200s

Bieiris de Romans (somewhere in the first half of the 1200s) / Bieiris was a French poet, and we only have one of her poems with us because the others have been lost. We don’t know much (anything) about her, except that she was a woman, French, and who wrote about a woman called Maria. Some say that this mysterious Maria referred to the Virgin Mary, others than Maria was her gf, and others than she was writing in the perspective of a man (because obviously a woman writing about other women in a not so platonic way is unthinkable). Anyway, feel free to get your own conclusions, here’s the poem (translated)

1500s

The Sword and the Pen: Women, Politics, and Poetry in Sixteenth-Century Siena - Konrad Eisenbichler / So while this is a modern book, it is the only one I’ve been able to find than includes Laudomia Forteguerri’s poems (1515-1555). Some historians considered her to be the earliest Italian lesbian writer. “Although only six of her sonnets have survived, all are testaments to the love she bore for other women, and five are specifically dedicated to Margaret of Austria.”

The Maitland Quarto / Manuscript (1586) / So, this is a collection of 95 scot poems, and poem 49 is pretty sapphic. It’s technically anonymous, but it has been attributed to Marie Maitland (who transcripted the manuscript and is thought to have added her own poems there). The last lines mean “'There is more constancy in our sex / Than ever among men has been”, I haven’t been able to translate the rest of it. The poem.

Galatea - John Lyly (1592) / “Galatea (or Gallathea) and Phillida who are dressed up in male clothes by their fathers so that they can avoid the requirement of the god Neptune that every year "the fairest and chastest virgin in all the country" be sacrificed to a sea-monster. Hiding together in the forest, the two maidens fall in love, each supposing the other to be a young man.”

1600s

The Flower's Shadow Behind the Curtain - Ko Lien Hua Ying (somewhere in the 1600s) / It is said this book was written towards the end of the Ming dynasty (1368 to 1644). It’s a erotic book, and chapter 22 includes an erotic story between two 16 year old girls. I found it in Sex in China: Studies in Sexology in Chinese Culture by Fang Fu Ruan (believe it or not, I don’t just randomly know all this books, I did research)

Aphra Behn (1640-1689) / English writer, one of the first female writers to live through her writing. She was also a spy. She wrote a lot about women. “Homoeroticism is standard in Behn's verse, either in descriptions such as these of male to male relationships or in depictions of her own attractions to women. Behn was married and widowed early, and as a mature woman her primary publicly acknowledged relationship was with a gay male, John Hoyle, himself the subject of much scandal.” (here). She wrote a lesbian love poem (in the link before, it also makes an analysis of it). The poem: To The Fair Clarinda

Poems, Protest, and a Dream: Selected Writings - Juana Inés De la Cruz (1648-1695) / So the thing about Juana is than every single spanish-speaking lesbian knows her (and loves her), but hardly anyone who doesn’t speak spanish has ever heard of her, which is a shame, because she’s an absolute icon. She was a Mexican nun who was also incredibly gay. You know how Sappho is called the tenth muse? Juana is also called the (mexican) tenth muse. She’s also called the phoenix of America, which is incredibly badass. She learnt how to read at 3 years old, at 8, she asked her mother to send her to college dressed as a man (her mother refused). She learnt and studied by her own, because she wanted to learn. She studied by cutting her hair (if she got something wrong or forgot something, she cut a strand of her hair as a punishment) because she said that “a head adorned with hair is worthless if it’s a head naked of ideas”. When she was sixteen (important to note than she already spoke Latin fluently at 12, having mastered it in just a few lessons) the archbishop Payo Enríquez de Rivera heard of her, and decided to ask her to be the company lady of his wife (his wife and her eventually would have a relationship) and decided to test her intelligence. He got 40 (!!!) university profesor of all subjects, and they all asked her questions related to maths, literature, philosophy, etc. She answered all of them right. At around 21, she decided to become a nun (not out of faith, but because it was either becoming a nun and being able to continue her education, or marrying a man and stop studying. To her, the choice was clear). Also it is said she owned around 4000 books in her personal library. So yeah, an educated, extremely intelligent gal, who wrote lesbian love poems to her gf, and who was definitely not afraid to stand up for herself.

1700s

The Game of Flats - Nicholas Rowe? (1715) / Poem, “game of flats” was an 18th century slang for lesbian sex. Link to read <- that website includes lots of 18th century queer history and poems like this one

The Sappho-an - Anonymous (1735 or 1749) / When I first heard of this I couldn’t believe it. It sounds like an AO3 fanfic, or some modern erotic book (one of those than have a real person in the cover), or maybe a forgotten 1970s lesbian book. It’s none of that. It’s an anonymous poem written in the 1700s. The plot? The goddesses of Olympus are sexually unsatisfied because the gods keep on going after mortals (except Ares, he’s just too busy with war) instead of paying attention to them. The gods keep going after woman and male mortals, so Hera just says yknow what if they can sleep with men then we can sleep with each other. Sappho also appears. Link to read.

Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure - John Cleland (1742) / Ok fine, this one is not sapphic but the main character (female) does have sex with a woman at one point. This is basically an erotic novel. Very dirty (specially for the time period) and very banned in lots of places. The main character is Fanny, a prostitute. It includes lots of straight sex, some gay (mlm) sex, and two pages where Fanny describes in detail having sex with Phoebe, bisexual prostitute. Not sapphic, but thought it was worth mentioning.

1810s

Christabel - Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1816) / So, have you heard of Carmilla (1872)? If you’re reading this post, you probably have, if you haven’t, it’s a classic (vampire) book than is said to have inspired Bram Stoker to write Dracula. It’s also incredibly gay. Well, some say it was Christabel than was the inspiration for Carmilla. Of course we don’t know this for sure, but the similarities definitely are there. Review from a reader: “what if we were the protagonist and villain of a never-completed sensual gothic poem (and we were both girls) / alternately: when you meet a wickedhot girl only she's SPOOKY but that's SEXY and turns out your dad and her dad were also gay back in the day before having a sexy gay falling-out and she's like 'babe let's get naked and hold each other close' and you're like '—wait fuck I mean uhhhh I PRETEND I DO NOT SEE IT!'” I haven’t read this one, however for what it seems Christabel is not explicitly a vampire. Since the poem is unfinished we don’t know the end, and we just think she’s a vampire because so many things used in here were also reused for vampires characterization (like not being able to enter a house unless invited)

1830s

Mademoiselle de Maupin - Théophile Gautier (1835) / “A woman uses her incredible beauty to captivate both d'Albert, a young poet, and disguised as a man, his mistress, Rosette. In this shocking tale of sexual deception, Gautier draws readers into the bedrooms and boudoirs of a French château in a compelling exploration of desire and sexual intrigue, and gives voice to a longing which is larger in scope, namely, the wish for completeness in oneself.”

1840s

Netochka Nezvanova - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1849) / Incomplete because the author was exiled. Tells the story of Netochka Nezvanova, her childhood and adolescence, and the many many bad things that happen to her. She falls in love with a girl as well.

1870s

Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife - Adolphe Belot (1870) / “The sensational Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife tells of the suffering of a naive young man whose new bride will not agree to consummate the marriage. Eventually he learns from an acquaintance, to his amazement, that their wives are lovers.” In reviews it says than this is a homophobic novel (who’s surprised) but “Christopher Rivers argues in his introduction that the protagonist's homophobic attitude toward lesbianism is ironically linked to his intimate homosocial bonds with men”

1880s

Jill - Amy Dillwyn (1884) / “Jill is the story of an unconventional heroine—a gentlewoman who disguises herself as a maid and runs away to London in search of adventure after her mother dies and her father is pursued by a Victorian gold-digger. Once in London she uses her position as lady's maid to become close to her mistress. Her life above and below stairs is portrayed with irreverent wit in this fast-paced story, but at the centre of the novel is Jill's unfolding love for the woman she works for. On the surface a feminist manifesto, Jill is a poignant story of same-sex desire and unrequited love. A new introduction tells the autobiographical story on which the novel is based —the author's own passionate attachment to a woman she called her wife, but who she couldn't have.”

Mephistophela - Catulle Mendès (1889) / “Telling the story of Baronne Sophor d'Hermelinge, a woman as thoroughly martyrized by her creator as any other heroine in the history of fiction, in spite of the enormous competition for that title established by countless writers, male and female, it is one of the archetypal novels of the Decadent Movement, and one of the most striking, precisely because is it such a discomfiting piece of writing, the deliberately controversial nature of which has been further enhanced as its surrounding social context has changed over time. Highly influential, especially on the works of such writers as Jean Lorrain and Renée Vivien, Mephistophela, in placing lesbian amour in the foreground of the story, deals forthrightly and intensively with a literary theme that had previously only been treated with delicacy and indecision, mostly in poetry. It is essentially a horror story about demonic possession, about contrived and cruel damnation, devoid even of a Faustian pact, which merely employs obsessive lesbian desire as an instrument of damnation.” Goodreads review: “As a story it is quite straightforward. Girl has same-sex desires and the novel follows her various affairs up to about the age of thirty. […] More controversially, Stableford (and the books blurb) suggests that it is a novel of demonic possession. Now Brian has probably forgotten more than I will ever learn about the period but a few of the episodes show distinct Charcotian traits (an early childhood 'illness', two doctors in conversation etc) and a (really great) fantasy/visionary episode in the book seems to show, to me, the influence of Michelets book on witchcraft. If anything, the book seems even more subversive that Stableford suggests, as Sophie seems largely 'out and proud' and the author often says that she is 'is as she is' suggesting to me that it is 'natural' rather than demonic. I wonder whether the publisher asked Mendes to add some suggestion of the demonic to 'tone down' the idea that people were actually like 'that'.”

1890s

Avant la nuit / Before the dark - Marcel Proust (1893) / Short story (seriously, less than 10 pages). I read it the other day before bed and it’s pretty good. Talks about Françoise, a woman, revealing her homosexuality to her friend Leslie.

A Sunless Heart - Edith Johnstone (1894) / “Its first third focuses on Gasparine O'Neill, who shares an intense connection with her sickly twin brother, Gaspar. Living in poverty, the two struggle to live decently until Gaspar dies. Here gritty naturalism gives way to fantasy, as Gasparine is rescued from despair by the brilliant Lotus Grace, a much-admired teacher at the local Ladies' College. Sexually exploited from the age of twelve by her sister's fiancé, Lotus cannot love anyone, not even her illegitimate child. Gasparine devotes herself to Lotus, but Lotus finds her final brief happiness with a woman student, Mona Lefcadio, a passionate Trinidadian heiress. Exploring issues of race, sexuality, and class in compelling prose, A Sunless Heart is a startling re-discovery from the late- Victorian era. The appendices to this Broadview edition provide contemporary documents that illuminate the tension between romantic friendship and lesbian consciousness in the novel and address other debates in which the novel the nature of Creole identity, the education of women, and the dangers of childhood sexual exploitation.”

The Songs of Bilitis - Pierre Louÿs (1894) / Poetry. However, believe it or not, these were not written by a woman but by a man. Why add it then, well, the story is quite original. The author (Pierre Louÿs) published this verses as written in Ancient Greece by a “disciple of sappho” named Bilitis. He created this whole character, she was a woman, she was a poet, she was a sappho disciple, her work has been lost until now, and she was a huge lesbian. Of course, this is not true, but still, it’s an interesting read. “Between their open celebration of lesbian love and the eventual revelation of their true authorship—the verses actually were written by French novelist and poet Pierre Louÿs—they became a succès de scandale. Although debunked as a work of antiquity, The Songs of Bilitis remains a classic of erotic literature.”

1900s

A Woman's Affair - Liane de Pougy (1901) / "Despite her beauty and her riches, Annhine de Lys, one of the most notorious courtesans of 1890s Paris, is bored and restless. Into her life bursts Flossie, a young American woman, and everything changes. The love she offers Annhine is dangerous, perverse and hard to resist. Ignoring the warnings of her best friend, Annhine encourages the affair."

I Await the Devil's Coming - Mary MacLane (1902) / “Mary MacLane's I Await the Devil's Coming is a shocking, brave and intelectually challenging diary of a 19-year-old girl living in Butte, Montana in 1902. Written in potent, raw prose that propelled the author to celebrity upon publication, the book has become almost completely forgotten. In the early 20th century, MacLane's name was synonymous with sexuality; she is widely hailed as being one of the earliest American feminist authors, and critics at the time praised her work for its daringly open and confesional style. In its first month of publication, the book sold 100,000 copies--a remarkable number for a debut author, and one that illustrates MacLane's broad appeal.” She’s pretty sapphic and claims her (female) lit teacher is her true love. Also an excerpt from a Goodreads review: “She awaits the Devil to come and marry her and bring happiness if only for three days, meanwhile rehearsing suicide. She prays to the Devil to deliver her from “unripe bananas; from bathless people; from a waist-line that slopes up in the front" but offers sensuous instructions on how to eat an olive, and enjoys porterhouse steaks and fudge she makes with brown sugar. It's quite a ride. Many recent reviewers pigeonhole her as an ahead-of-her-time Goth or emo, simply transcribing an eternal and universal teen angst.”

Q.E.D. - Gertrude Stein (1903) - Autobiographical short story about a love triangle between three women; Adele (Stein), Mabel, manipulative and wealthy, and Helen, who seduces Adele.

A Woman Appeared To Me - Renée Vivien (1904) / I have no idea how to explain this book other than it's all I ever wanted and it has an absolutely breathtaking prose. Think of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde’s writing style and descriptions, the character's philosophy, and the queer toxic relationships in the book. Now make it lesbian and even more explicitly queer. Also I'm pretty sure the main characters want to fuck Sappho. On the second chapter the main characters + some side characters (all women + one guy) are having a discussion (a symposium of sorts) about how much they love sappho and how believing she married a man is stupid and how they don’t hate men, just really dislike them, and the guy says: "Mademoiselle, you are trying to hide from the irresistible seduction of the male. You will certainly finish your love-life in the arms of a man." And our main character being an icon finished the chapter answering him this: "That would be a crime against nature, sir. I have too much respect for our friend to believe her capable of an abnormal passion!". It’s so good. I have seen mixed opinions on this one, but I’m just gonna say: the girls than get it, get it. Everything by Renée Vivien is so good, but this is her only full novel I think (she also wrote poems and short stories). If you have to read only one book out of all the books in this post, let it be this one.

Zezé - Ángeles Vicente (1909) / Not translated (I think) but it’s the first lesbian novel written in Spanish which is pretty cool (even cooler than it was written by a woman who, in 1909 (or around it) divorced her husband and lived through her writing). The plot is basically, the narrator (the author) is on a ship and shares the cabin where she’s staying with another woman, Zezé, a cuplé singer, who tells her about her life (her childhood in a religious school, where she discovered her sexuality with had a relationship with another (female) student, her life in Madrid as an adult and living life as a woman, etc)

1910s

Despised & Rejected - Rose Allatini (1918) / A gay man and a lesbian are friends during WWI, which they are against (an anti-war novel). I think the book is in the perspective of the gay man, but his friend is also a main character.

The Scorpion - Anna Elisabet Weirauch (1919) / A review by a reader: “This book felt more like historical fiction than a novel actually written in 1919-1932, considering the explicitly lesbian relationships and coming of age and coming out style narrative. The story follows the life of Metta, a lesbian who grew up with a controlling family in Berlin. The narrative follows her from her first crush on her manipulative governess, to her first love the older and intelectual Olga, and her foray into the gay scene in Munich and beyond. The story isn't without suffering and it isn't just a love story despite how much you might want it to be. Definite trigger warnings for suicide (not Metta), poor mental health, homophobia and general cringe comments due to the time of writing. But the point of the book is for Metta to find a way to be, a way to live her life comfortably and happily, essentially to find herself.”

1920s

The Bacheloress - Victor Marqueritte (1922) / “Monique is an emancipated French woman who leaves home to escape a marriage of convenience to a man whom her parents have forced on her. She then succumbs to all sorts of carnal temptations including a lesbian love affair with a singer. The scandal provoked by Victor Margueritte's La Garçonne, here translated as The Bacheloress, led to its author having his legion d'honneur revoked, which only propelled this novel about a brazenly independent "new woman" to best-seller status. What was shocking then was not so much the reckless behavior of its heroine, who is depicted as the victim of psychological torment, but the portrait of the corrupt post-WWI society in which she lives. Authentic as Monique is, the types of love she encounters, set against the hostile and contemptuous portrayal of her peers, only amplifies her struggle.”

Yellow Rose - Nobuko Yoshiva (1923) / This is the only book than has been translated by this author, she was a lesbian who wrote Class-S romance (a Japanese book genre of the time, which focused on lesbian / homoerotic relationships between women [so-called romantic friendships], than usually take place in an all-girls boarding school). This specific story talks about a teacher-student relationship. She has other books, one called Yaneura no nishojo (two virgins in the attic) (1919) which isn’t translated, but sounds good, the story “is thought to be semi-autobiographical, and describes a female-female love experience with her dormmate. In the last scene, the two girls decide to live together as a couple. This work, in attacking male-oriented society, and showing two women as a couple after they have finished secondary education presents a strong feminist attitude, and also reveals Yoshiya's own lesbian sexual orientation”.

Freundinnen: ein Roman unter Frauen / Girlfriends: a Novel among Women - Maximiliane Ackers (1923) / Only in German, not translated. Review from an English reader: “This novel—which went through several editions in the 20s before being banned by the Nazis—is uncompromisingly, heartbreakingly queer. The novel tells the story of the love between two actresses in Wiemar Germany, Ruth and Erika. Both women struggle to support themselves on the stage, to live independently, and to come to terms with their love for each other and how they might live and express themselves and their desire.”

Surplus - Sylvia Stevenson (1924) / Review from a reader: “This book should be included in lists of seminal lesbian fiction. Published in 1924, Surplus is the story of Sally Wraith's young adult adventures after the end of WWI, during which period she served as an ambulance driver. The novel is not explicit and dos not detail a physical relationship between Sally and her romantic friend Averil but Sally refers to Averil as her "dream girl" with whom she wants to spend the rest of her life. This novel was published before Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness , which is often hailed for its early negative portrayal of homophobia. But I find it compelling that Sally's love for Averil is not treated as deviant. It's just tragic for any babydyke to fall in love with a straight girl!”

The Captive - Eduard Bourdet (1926) / Theatre, “Irène is a lesbian tortured by her love for Madame d'Aiguines, but pretending engagement to Jacques (man). Though Irène attempts to leave Madame d'Aiguines and marry Jacques, she returns to the relationship, saying that it is "a prison to which I must return captive, despite myself". Madame d'Aiguines is not seen in the play, but leaves behind nosegays of violets for Irène, as a symbol of her love.” Read here

Women Lovers, or The Third Woman - Natalie Clifford Barney (1926) / “This long-lost novel recounts a passionate triangle of love and loss among three of the most daring women of belle époque Paris. In this barely disguised roman à clef, the legendary American heiress, writer, and arts patron Natalie Clifford Barney, the dashing Italian baroness Mimi Franchetti, and the beautiful French courtesan Liane de Pougy share erotic liaisons that break all taboos and end in devastation as one unexpectedly becomes the "third woman."

HERmione - H.D (1927) / “This autobiographical novel, an interior self-portrait of the poet H. D. (1886-1961) is what can best be described as a find, “a posthumous treasure”. In writing HERmione, H.D. returned to a year in her life that was peculiarly blighted. She was in her early twenties—a disappointment to her father, an odd duckling to her mother, an importunate, overgrown, unincarnated entity that had no place... Waves to fight against, to fight against alone... “I am Hermione Gart, a failure” —she cried in her dementia, “I am Her, Her, Her.” She had failed at Bryn Mawr, she felt hemmed in by her family, she did not yet know what she was going to do with her life. The return from Europe of the wild-haired George Lowndes (Ezra Pound) expanded her horizons but threatened her sense of self. An intense new friendship with Fayne Rabb (Frances Josepha Gregg), an odd girl who was, if not lesbian, then certainly of bisexual bent, brought an atmosphere that made her hold on everyday reality more tenuous. This stormy course led to mental breakdown, then to a turning point and a new beginning as her own true self, as Her"

Lucia Sánchez Saornil (1895 - 1970) / Spanish poet, putting her here because she’s part of generation ‘27. Read her Wikipedia page because she’s literally iconic (I can’t put the link here for some reason). I love her so much. She was an anarchist and very revolutionary. She wrote under a pen name to be able to explicitly write about women and lived with her partner (América Barroso) until she died. I haven’t been able to find an English translation of her writing, but I do have found a French one, so better than nothing

Dusty Answer - Rosamond Lehmann (1927) / Coming of age story of Judith Earle, sensitive, lonely, who grew up as an only child, but with 4 neighbors (all cousins) to make her company (and eventually harbor romantic feelings for). Then she moves to college, where she meets Jennifer and enters a relationship with her. Although the relationship is not explicitly romantic.

Ladies Almanack - Djuna Barnes (1928) / “Written as a medieval calendar, Ladies Almanack is a clever parody of the crazy sapphic circle of Natalie Barney and her Académie des Femmes. Sharp, biting, witty and transgressive, it is also a modern and pioneer in his vision of lesbianism and the issues surrounding relationships between women. The emotional endogamy, transvestism, motherhood, marriage or differences between sex and gender are already presented in the book with a charge of irony and acidity that is rare in the treatment of the topic. And it is also a breath of fresh air, an essential reference to know the world of lesbian women in all its breadth and diversity.”

1930s

The Angel and the Perverts - Lucie Delarue-Mardrus (around 1930) / "Set in the lesbian and gay circles of Paris in the 1920s, The Angel and the Perverts tells the story of a hermaphrodite born to upper class parents in Normandy and ignorant of his/her physical difference. As an adult, s/he lives a double life as Marion/Mario, passing undetected as a lesbian in the literary salons of the times, and as a gay man in the cocaine dens made famous by Colette." Technically not lesbian, but it’s “set in the lesbian cercles of Paris”

Broderie Anglaise - Violet Trefusis (1935) / Technically not a lesbian novel, but by a sapphic author. Do you know about Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West? Of course you do, everyone does. However, do you know than Violet Trefusis used to be Vita’s lover? They dated as teens and again as adults. There’s this whole gay toxic romantic circle between Violet, Vita, and Virginia. Violet wrote this book where she’s basically adding Vita, Virginia, and herself into the characters and dissing them. The plot centers on an encounter between Alexa, a celebrated English writer (Virginia), and her rival, Anne (Violet), and their discussion about their mutual lover, Lord Shorne (Vita).

Summer Will Show - Sylvia Townsend Warner (1936) / Sophia Willoughby's husband has a mistress who he cheats on her with. So she grabs him and packs him up to Paris with his mistress. She'll raise their children and he can have his mistress all day long if he wants, what she wants is to not see him. Sadly, her children die, and she goes to Paris, where she'll find her husband's mistress, and the two of them start an affair with eachother.

Diana: A Strange Autobiography - Diana Frederics (1939) / “«This is the unusual and compelling story of Diana, a tantalizingly beautiful woman who sought love in the strange by-paths of Lesbos. Fearless and outspoken, it dares to reveal that hidden world where perfumed caresses and half-whispered endearments constitute the forbidden fruits in a Garden of Eden where men are never accepted». This is how A Strange Autobiography was described when it was published in paperback in 1952. The original 1939 hardcover edition carried with it a Publisher's This is the autobiography of a woman who tried to be normal. In the book, Diana is presented as the unexceptional daughter of an unexceptional plutocratic family. During adolescence, she finds herself drawn with mysterious intensity to a girl friend. The narrative follows Diana's progress through college; a trial marriage that proves she is incapable of heterosexuality; intelectual and sexual education in Europe; and a series of lesbian relationships culminating in a final tormented triangular struggle with two other women for the individual salvation to be found in a happy couple.”

1940s

Nada - Carmen Laforet (1945) / ok fine, technically not explicitly lesbian, but the author is sapphic and the main character is such a lesbian. Set in post-civil war spain, Andrea, an 18 year old girl who just moved to Barcelona from her small town is starting university (studying literature). She lives with her mom’s side of the family that lives in the city, in a gothic horror-esque house that shows the decay of the family. Including great tragedy-filled characters and incredible prose, I enjoyed every single second of this. The title literally translates to “nothing” (there do is an English translation, it simply kept the og title). Andrea is an observer, a girl who feels so incredibly real, filled with dreams and doubts and love and loneliness. She becomes best friends with a girl from her class named Eda who she definitely has a crush on. She doesn’t date any man, is more, shows aversion to the idea, and there’s a moment in the book where she wishes she was “able to fall in love with him”. I mean c’mon. I loved every second of this it’s SO good please read it I beg you.

Hidden Path - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / Maria Luisa grows up on 1910s/1920s Spain. She is a peculiar girl, one who despises wearing dresses and wants to dress as a sailor, who could spend all day reading, who loves painting, and who swears she will never marry. Oh, and she's also a lesbian. Based on the author's life Maria Luisa is kind of the author's alter ego, and it follows her from childhood to adulthood while dealing with a world not created with people like her in mind. (Not published until 2016)

El Pensionado de Santa Casilda / The Boarding School of Saint Casilda - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / This book is not translated, but if you know spanish I recommend to pick it up. A group of 14/15 year old girls who go to the same spanish all-girls boarding school, and they are all in love with each other. It follows them into adulthood and how they navigate their lives being women and lesbians in the past (Not published until 2022). Messy lesbians at its finest. Like, seriously. Lesbians still in love with their ex and not over their first love, dating their friends and their ex friend, and the ex of their friend, and having sugar mommies, etc etc

1960s

Winter Love - Han Suyin (1962) / “As a college student in London during the bitterly cold winter of 1944, Red falls in love with her married classmate Mara. Their affair unleashes a physical passion, a jealousy, and a sense of self-doubt that sweep all her previous experiences aside and will leave her changed forever. Set against the rubble of the bombed city, in a time of gray austerity and deprivation, Winter Love recalls a life at its most vivid.”

The Chinese Garden - Rosemary Manning (1962) / “A "very intelligent, sensitive, and compelling" novel of adolescent rebellion and sexual awakening at a girls' boarding school (Anthony Burgess). Set in a repressive British girls' boarding school in the late 1920s—where not only sexuality but femininity is squashed—the novel is the coming-of-age story of sixteen-year-old Rachel, a sensitive, bright, and innocent student. Rachel finds refuge from the Spartan conditions, strict regime, fierce discipline, and formidable headmistress at Bampfield in a secret garden. She also finds friendship there, with a rebellious girl named Margaret. As Margaret has her mind expanded by a scandalous tome entitled The Well of Loneliness, she engages in a bold, forbidden act—the ultimate transgression at Bampfield—and Rachel is drawn into the turmoil. Confronted with the persecution of her friend and troubled by a growing awareness of her own sensuality, Rachel faces an imposible choice that drives her to desperate measures.”

The Microcosm - Maureen Duffy (1966) / “At the House of Shades, Matt, a bar-room philosopher, tries to make sense of the disparate lives which cross here -- of Judy who saves herself and her finery for a Saturday night lover, of Steve the gym teacher who dreads a chance encounter with a pupil in this twilight environment, and of Matt herself, who needs these vicarious exchanges despite the security of her relationship with Rae and her sense that this lesbian sanctuary is a prison too, enforcing the guilt and estrangement of the city streets beyond. Elsewhere there are women such as Marie, trapped within an unwanted marriage and unable to admit her sexuality, and Cathy, for whom the discovery that she is not 'the only one in the world' is an affirmation of her existence. With its innovative structure and style, perfectly mirroring the voices and experiences of women forced by society to live on the margins, The Microcosm remains as powerful today as when originally published in 1966.”

A Place For Us / Patience & Sarah - Isabel Miller (1969) / First named A Place For Us, then changed to Patience & Sarah. Not necessarily obscure, but no one ever talks about it. Based on a real life story, “In the early nineteenth century, in a puritanical New England town, two women fall in love. With no one to guide or support them, Patience and Sarah try to follow their hearts. Defying society and history, they buy a farm and discover they can live together, away from the world that had sought to limit them and their love…”

1970s

Beginning with O - Olga Broumas (1977) / A poetry collection by a lesbian, greek writer.

The Same Sea as Every Summer - Esther Tusquets (1978) / A stream-of-consciousness type book, by an author who has been compared to Virginia Woolf. “Poetic and erotic, El mismo mar de todos los veranos ( The Same Sea As Every Summer ) was originally published in Spain in 1978, three years after the death of Franco and in the same year that government censorship was abolished. But even in a new era that fostered more liberal attitudes toward divorce, homosexuality, and women's rights, this novel by Esther Tusquets was controversial. Its feminine view of sexuality (in particular, its depiction of a lesbian relationship) was unprecedented in Spanish fiction. The disillusioned narrator of The Same Sea As Every Summer is a middle-aged woman whose unhappy life prompts a journey into she past to rediscover a more authentic self. However, events force her to realize that love or trust will inevitably be repaid by betrayal. This pattern assumes various forms in a story that moves forward as well as backward, playing out in Barcelona among the haute bourgeoisie. Richly textured with allusion, The Same Sea As Every Summer is also a commentary on post-Civil War Spanish society by an author who grew up during the repressive Franco regime.”

Así es: Mi vida 3 - Victorina Durán (somewhere in the late 1970s) / So, not translated but has great historical value. Basically, this is the third book out of Victorina’s memories that she wrote in the 70s. Victorina (1899 - 1993) was so cool. She was an icon. She was a sceneographer, a painter, a costume designer, writer (aside from her memories, she has some theatre plays), etc. She actually wanted to be an actress. She was part of the Círculo Sáfico de Madrid (the sapphic club of Madrid, a club made out of her and her friends, who were sapphic) among others. She never hid her sexuality. She was friends with almost all the importante well known people in 1920s / 1930s Spain. This book is the third one out of her memories, and it’s focused explicitly on her relationships (all with women). She said she wanted to focus on them and give them a book of their own, so this is of great historical value, giving insights into the queer spaces, lesbian scene, wlw relationships and being gay at that time. I need to read it so bad if someone has a pdf please tell me I’ll send them my fanfic wips

1980s

On Strike against God - Joanna Russ (1980) / “A lost feminist masterwork by feminist and speculative fiction icon, Joanna Russ, about a young lesbian's coming-to-consciousness during the social upheaval of the 1970s. When Esther, a recently divorced professor, has her first lesbian love affair, the fallout brings her everyday miseries into focus and precipitates a personal crisis. She flees her small, upstate New York college town, grapples with gender confusion and the ghosts of therapists past, and fumbles her way through comedic sexual self-discovery, oscillating all the while between visionary confidence and debilitating self-doubt. Confronted with the homophobia of straight feminists and the misogyny of gay men, Esther is left to forge a language for her feminism and her burgeoning lesbian desire. On Strike Against God is quintessentially experimental but accesible, alternately wry and earnest, poignantly didactic, playful, and emotionally charged.” From a review: “For anyone like me who's unfamiliar with the quote which inspired the title: A judge was sentencing a picketer from the early twentieth century shirtwaist-makers strike (the first large scale strike by women), and he told her, "You are striking against God and Nature, whose law is that man shall earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. You are on strike against God!"

Faultline - Sheila Ortiz Taylor (1982) / “An outrageous, zesty, funny Lesbian novel; the adventures of a Lesbian mother with six children, three hundred rabbits, and very relaxed attitude."

The Swashbuckler - Lee Lynch (1985) / "Frenchy Tonneau leaves her closeted home in the Bronx for the bars of New York City, the freedom of Provincetown, and the liberation of Greenwich Village in the 1960s and 1970s. Her hangouts, her women, her small yet universal world tell the stories of the times - and the stories of lesbians today. A timeless journey and a riveting read, The Swashbuckler is heart-wrenching, heartwarming, and unforgettable." Butch main character, lesbian life in the 60s/70s, lesbian-feminism, butchfemme, etc.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café - Fannie Flagg (1987) / listen, LISTEN, I know this book is not obscure, absolutely not given it even has a movie adaptation, but people do not give this book the love it deserves. I'm constantly thinking about Idgie and Ruth, they are one of my favorite fictional couples ever, and also my favorite lesbian fictional couple. They are such interesting characters with such an interesting dynamic and I just love them so so much. A femmebutch couple in 1920s Alabama, who go through many hardships but still find eachother, still end together, and even have a restaurant, live together, and raise a kid. And not only them, but the book is made out of 4 main characters (or 3 depends on if you see Ninny as a main character or not), Idgie, Ruth, and Ninny and Evelyn. Evelyn, an 80s depressed housewife in her 40s finds solace and a true friend in Ninny, a 90 year old woman staying at a nursing home (not ‘cause she needs it, but to keep a friend company). Ninny tells her the story of Idgie (her, kind of, sister) and Ruth, her best friend and lover. Evelyn finds feminism and hope through the memories, getting inspired by Idgie and Ruth's story and becoming happier in her life. It has several points of views and it jumps between years (first 1980s, then 1920s, then 1940s, then 1980s again, etc) and it also talks a lot about racism in 1920s Alabama, and i'll just stop because I love this book so much and i could go on forever. Oh, and also they murder a man and feed him to a police officer.

Lovers' choice - Becky Birtha (1987) / A collection of eleven short stories about lesbian women.

1990s

Out Of Time - Paula Martinac (1990) / Susan finds an old photograph album with pictures from the 1920s, all pictures being of a group of women (four in total). She's told it's not for sale, but she steals it anyway. After some digging, she finds out than two of the girls from the photos were lovers! And not only is Susan trying to navigate the details of her life and of her relationship with her own girlfriend, but she obsesses over the women in the picture, and eventually, the spirits of the girls start to haunt her.

The Gilda Stories - Jewele Gomez (1991) / Gilda escaped from slavery in the 1850s, until she's taken by a vampire who (consensually) turns her into a vampire too. Gilda moves through the decades finding community and connections and helping people, and slowly builds a place for herself in time. (Fine, not actually obscure since I’ve seen it all around the internet, but it just sounds so good)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk - Ellen Galford (1993) / “Dybbuk Kokos, a feisty soul-stealing demon of medieval Jewish folklore, has been trapped in a tree for two hundred years. When lightning strikes and Kokos is released, she finds herself in the world of the 20th century -- as the disgruntled employee of the multinational corporation, Mephistco. In order to keep her job and fulfill an ancient curse, Kokos must hunt down the descendant of the woman she was instructed to haunt centuries ago. No easy task, as that descendant happens to be Rainbow Rosenbloom -- London taxi-driver, film critic, lesbian, and niece to a pack of formidable aunts. As the hilarious tale unfolds, both Rainbow and her dybbuk discover that History still holds a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Annabel and I - Chris Anne Wolfe (1996) / Plot summed up by a reader: “Half-orphaned Jenny-Wren spends her summers at her uncle Jake's fishing lodge on Lake Chautauqua. One summer day when she's twelve years old while boating with her uncle, she finds a girl on the end of a dock reaching futilely for her escaped model boat. Jenny swims over and rescues the boat, meeting the orphaned Annabel, spending her summers at her grandmother's summer estate. This begins a friendship that endures and grows for years as the two girls spent each summer together, only to be separated at the end of summer. As the two grow older, they realize a magic is at work that keeps bringing them together, despite the near century between them. As the summers come and go, the two young women discover their love for each other, and the realization that their love is imposible. Can their love persist beyond those fleeting summers and flourish, in the face of time?”. Review from a reader: “The foreword says this book is for all wlw, and that, "Because there are as many different ways to love a woman as there are women who love women; it's the loving, not the label, that really matters." That really captured the core of what this book does, it treasures the love we create with our bare hands for and with another woman.” A time travel romance (Jenny is from the 1980s, Annabel from 1890s)

Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice - April Sinclair (1996) / Bisexual mc. “Jean "Stevie" Stevenson, the indomitable heroine of "Coffee Will Make You Black," is back—somewhat older and wiser, with some experience and a college degree -- diving headfirst into the hot tub, free love, yoga, and vegetarian lifestyle of 1970s San Francisco. In this liberating new world of raised consciousness, mind-expanding, and disco-dancing, a soul sister with passion and daring has room to experiment with life and love to find out who she "really" is.”

Beyond the Pale - Elana Dykewomon (1997) / “The story of two Jewish women living through times of darkness and inhumanity in the early 20th century, capturing their undaunted love and courage in luminous and moving prose. The richly textured novel details Gutke Gurvich's odyssey from her apprenticeship as a midwife in a Russian shtetl to her work in the suffrage movement in New York. Interwoven with her tale is that Chava Meyer, who was attended by Gurvich at her birth and grew up to survive the pogrom that took the lives of her parents. Throughout the book, historical background plays a large part: Jewish faith and traditions, the practice of midwifery, the horrific conditions in prerevolutionary Russia and New York sweatshops, and the determined work of labor unionists and suffragists." While it is a romance, it's also more than that, it's about the life of Jewish women in the 20th century.

Crystal Diary - Frankie Hucklenbroich (1997) / “Frankie Hucklenbroich's razor-edged, compelling, often wryly humorous story hustles us from the blood-and-beer-drenched corners of her St. Louis meat-packing district '50s youth, through the sex-soaked Hollywood alleys of her '60s baby butch years, into the druggy metropolis of '70s San Francisco. Moving relentlessly from one woman to another until faces and bodies blur, scamming her existence, learning what the street has to how to make a buck, how to make it with a woman, how to court the dangers of crystal meth, how to survive.”

Hers 3 - Terry Wolverton (1999) / Short stories

2000s

Valencia - Michelle Tea (2000) / "Valencia is the fast-paced account of one girl's search for love and high times in the drama-filled dyke world of San Francisco's Mission District. Through a string of narrative moments, Tea records a year lived in a world of girls: there's knife-wielding Marta, who introduces Michelle to a new world of radical sex; Willa, Michelle's tormented poet-girlfriend; Iris, the beautiful boy-dyke who ran away from the South in a dust cloud of drama; and Iris's ex, Magdalena Squalor, to whom Michelle turns when Iris breaks her heart."

Naked in the Promised Land: A Memoir - Lillian Faderman (2003) / “Born in 1940, Lillian Faderman is the only child of an uneducated and unmarried Jewish woman who left Latvia to seek a better life in America. Lillian grew up in poverty, but fantasised about becoming an actress. When her dreams led to the dangerous, seductive world of the sex trade and sham-marriages in Hollywood of the fifties, she realised she was attracted to women, and that show-biz is as cruel as they say. Desperately seeking to make her life meaningful, she studied at Berkeley; paying her way by working as a pin-up model and burlesque dancer, hiding her lesbian affairs from the outside world. At last she became a brilliant student and the woman who becomes a loving partner, a devoted mother, an acclaimed writer and ground-breaking pioneer of gay and lesbian scholarship. Told with wrenching immediacy and great power, Naked in the Promised Land is the story of an exceptional woman and her remarkable, unorthodox life.”

Her Naked Skin - Rebecca Lenkiewicz (2008) / Theatre. “Militancy in the Suffragette Movement is at its height. Thousands of women of all classes serve time in Holloway Prison in their fight to gain the vote. Amongst them is Lady Celia Cain who feels trapped by both the policies of the day and the shackles of a frustrating marriage. Inside, she meets a young seamstress, Eve Douglas, and her life spirals into an erotic but dangerous chaos. London 1913. A crucial moment when, with emancipation almost in sight, women refuse to let the establishment stand in their way.”

The Rain Before it Falls - Jonathan Coe (2008) / “A story of three generations of women whose destinies reach from the English countryside in World War Il to London, Toronto, and southern France at the turn of the new century. Evacuated to Shropshire during the Blitz, eight-year-old Rosamond forged a bond with her cousin Beatrix that augured the most treasured and devastating moments of her life. She recorded these memories sixty years later, just before her death, on cassettes she bequeathed to a woman she hadn't seen in decades. When her beloved niece, Gill, plays the tapes in hopes of locating this unwitting heir, she instead hears a family saga swathed in promise and the story of how Beatrix, starved of her mother's affection, conceived a fraught bloodline that culminated in heart-stopping tragedy—its chief victim being her own granddaughter. And as Rosamond explores the ties that bound these generations together and shaped her experience all along, Gill grows increasingly haunted by how profoundly her own recollections--not to mention the love she feels for her grown daughters, listening alongside her-- are linked to generations of women she never knew. A stirring, masterful portrait of motherhood and family secrets, "The Rain Before It Falls" is also a meditation on the tapestries we weave out of the past, whether transcendent or horrific.”

2010s

When We Were Outlaws - Jeanne Cordova (2011) / "A sweeping memoir, a raw and intimate chronicle of a young activist torn between conflicting personal longings and political goals. When We Were Outlaws offers a rare view of the life of a radical lesbian during the early cultural struggle for gay rights, Women's Liberation, and the New Left of the 1970s. Brash and ambitious, activist Jeanne Cordova is living with one woman and falling in love with another, but her passionate beliefs tell her that her first duty is "to the revolution".—to change the world and end discrimination against gays and lesbians."

Call Me Esteban - Leila Kalamuié (2015) / “With unapologetic vividness, Lejla Kalamujic depicts pre- and post-war Sarajevo by charting a daughter coping with losing her mother, but discovering herself. From imagined conversations with Franz Kafka to cozy apartments, psychiatric wards, and cemeteries, Call Me Esteban is a piercing meditation on a woman grasping at memories in the name of claiming her identity.”

Lancelot: Her Story - Carol Anne Douglas (2015) / Arthurian legend retelling! "A young girl sees a man rape and murder her mother. She grabs a stick and puts out his eye. Her father raises her as a boy so she will be safe from men's attacks. She practices and practices until she becomes a great fighter - Lancelot. She wants to protect women—and she does. Lancelot hears about King Arthur, a just king across the sea, and journeys to earn a place at Camelot. She vows to serve him. but fears that Arthur and his men will discover that she is a woman and send her away. Lancelot is shocked to realize that she is falling in love with the king's wife, Guinevere. Guinevere is a strong woman who would have preferred to be queen in her own right, not through marriage. Saxons attack Arthur's kingdom, and Lancelot finds out that fighting a war is far different from saving women in single combat. The savagery of war devastates her, she is living a lie, but she is also deeply in love…”

Jigsaw Youth - Tiffany Scandal (2015) / “Lose your best friend because you finally Came Out. Spend days driving aimlessly because there's nothing to do. Serve your rapist breakfast because you need your job. Fall asleep to gunshots and sirens because that's the only sense of home you've ever known. Hold hands with ghosts. Your life is in pieces, but you can't be broken. Wipe off the blood. Tired of being told who to be, what to wear, how to act and who to fuck. Break the rules and learn fast how to never get caught. All you need is nothing, but you're happy with your car, guitar and camera. Throwing around polaroids of tits like they're money, you swap stories about adventures and realize that we're all running away from something.”

Creatures of Will & Temper - Molly Tanzer (2017) / Recommended as a sapphic picture of dorian gray retelling, it tells the story of Dorina (hedonistic, art lover, and woman-kisser), her older sister Evadne (fencer and responsable), Lady Henrietta (suit-wearing, cigar-smoking lesbian who is a horrible influence), and Basil, Dorina and Evadne's uncle, and who's character has not changed much. They also summon demons.

The Adventures of China Iron - Gabriela Cabezón Cámara (2017) / “1872. The pampas of Argentina. China is a young woman eking out an existence in a remote gaucho encampment. After her no-good husband is conscripted into the army, China bolts for freedom, setting off on a wagon journey through the pampas in the company of her new-found friend Liz, a settler from Scotland. While Liz provides China with a sentimental education and schools her in the nefarious ways of the British Empire, their eyes are opened to the wonders of Argentina's richly diverse flora and fauna, cultures and languages, as well as to the ruthless violence involved in nation-building. This subversive retelling of Argentina's foundational gaucho epic Martín Fierro is a celebration of the colour and movement of the living world, the open road, love and sex, and the dream of lasting freedom. With humour and sophistication, Gabriela Cabezón Cámara has created a joyful, hallucinatory novel that is also an incisive critique of national myths.”

2020s

Thirst - Marina Yuszczuk (2020) / “Across two different time periods, two women confront fear, loneliness, mortality, and a haunting yearning that will not let them rest. It is the twilight of Europe's bloody bacchanals, of murder and feasting without end. In the nineteenth century, a vampire arrives from Europe to the coast of Buenos Aires and, for the second time in her life, watches as villages transform into a cosmopolitan city, one that will soon be ravaged by yellow fever. She must adapt, intermingle with humans, and be discreet. In present-day Buenos Aires, a woman finds herself at an impasse as she grapples with her mother's terminal illness and her own relationship with motherhood. When she first encounters the vampire in a cemetery, something ignites within the two women-and they cross a threshold from which there's no turning back. With echoes of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and written in the vein of feminist Gothic writers like Shirley Jackson, Daphne du Maurier, and Carmen Maria Machado, Thirst plays with the boundaries of genre while exploring the limits of female agency, the consuming power of desire, and the fragile vitality of even the most immortal of creatures.” Lesbian vampires!

The Lives We Left Behind - Olivia Bratherton-Wilson (2021) / I read this one so long ago and I don’t remember everything with detail, just than I really liked it. “1943. Seventeen-year-old Dorotea Miller is given the responsibility of managing the family farm when her father and brother are conscripted, leaving her with only her distant mother and the unfamiliar Land Girls for company. Angeline Carter and her four younger brothers are evacuated to the Welsh countryside to escape the bombings; the Miller farm is nothing like they've seen before and certainly more than Angeline bargained for when she meets the surly, unwelcoming farmer's daughter. Despite their rocky start, misunderstandings and tragedies, Dorothea and Angeline realise that their friendship may run deeper than either of them had prepared for.” There is also a sequel! That one I haven’t read tho.

Agatha of Little Neon - Claire Luchette (2021) / "Agatha has lived every day of the last nine years with her sisters (the other nuns) : they work together, laugh together, pray together. Their world is contained within the little house they share. The four of them are devoted to Mother Roberta and to their quiet, purposeful life. But when the parish goes broke, the sisters are forced to move. They land in Woonsocket, a formermill town now dotted with wind turbines. […] Agatha is forced to venture out into the world alone, to teach math at a local all-girls high school, where for the first time in years she will have to reckon with what she sees and feels all on her own. Who will she be if she isn't with her sisters? These women, the church, have been her home--or has she just been hiding? […] It is a novel about female friendship and devotion, the roles made available to us, and how we become ourselves." Lesbian nuns

Burning Butch - R/B Mertz (2022) / A butch lesbian memoir of their life growing up catholic and surviving in the world, while dealing with faith and what it shape it takes to them.

London on My Mind - Clara Alves (2022) / So, the English translation just came out! Funny thing is, I started this in 2022 even tho I don’t know Portuguese (translating paragraph by paragraph with google translate) and it was pretty good. I haven’t finished it (translating a whole book with google translate is definitely work) but I’m so ready to read it now that it’s translated. Dayana (seventeen, black, plus size, and Brazilian) is forced to move to London with her father (who abandoned her mother and her) and his new family after her mother died. She’s having a pretty horrible time, until, on a walk, finds a redhead girl… escaping Buckingham Palace?? So of course, she helps her escape. Who exactly is this girl? Why was she escaping?? The answer, her name is Diana and she’s sort of (super) the princess of Wales. Huh.

Helen House - Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya (2022) / “Right before meeting her girlfriend Amber's parents for the first time, the unnamed narrator of Helen House learns that she and her partner share a similar both of their sisters are dead. As the narrator wonders what else Amber has been hiding, she struggles with her own secret--using sex as a coping mechanism--as well as confusion and guilt over whether she really cares about Amber, or if she's only using her for sex. When they arrive at the parents' rural upstate home, a quaint but awkward first meeting unravels into a nightmare in which the narrator finds herself stranded in a family's decades-long mourning ritual. At turns terrifying and erotic, Helen House is a queer ghost story about trauma and grief.”

Promises in Pompeii - Violet Morley (2022) / Set in Ancient Rome, it tells the story of two girls, Octavia and Helvia, childhood friends, and their journey through life as women and through their feelings. In the author ig, she said it includes: adventure/survival, against the odds, brothels, butch/femme, coming of age, disguised as a man, first love, friends to lovers, opposites attract, etc. I’m currently reading it, and I really like it so far.

Nettleblack - Nat Reeve (2022) / “Subversive and playful, Nettleblack is a neo-Victorian queer farce that follows a runaway heir/ess and an organisation of crime-fighting misfits as they struggle with the misdeeds besieging a rural English town. The year is 1893. Having run away from her family home to escape an arranged marriage, Welsh heiress Henrietta “Henry” Nettleblack finds herself ambushed, robbed, and then saved by the mysterious Dallyangle Division - part detective agency, part neighbourhood watch. Desperate to hide from her older sisters, Henry disguises herself and enlists. But the Division soon finds itself under siege from a spate of crimes and must fight for its very survival. Assailed by strange feelings for her new colleague - the tomboyish, moody Septimus - Henry quickly sees that she's lost in a small rural town with surprisingly big problems. And to make things worse, sinister forces threaten to expose her as the missing Nettleblack sister. As the net starts to close around Henry, the new people in her life seem to offer her a way out, and a way forward. Is the world she's lost in also a place she can find herself? Told through journal entries and letters, Nettleblack is a picaresque ride through the perils and joys of finding your place in the world, challenging myths about queerness - particularly transness - as a modern phenomenon, while exploring the practicalities of articulating queer perspectives when you're struggling for words.”

Sunburn - Chloe Michelle (2023) / In Ireland, the early 1990s, Lucy feels out of place in her small town. She falls in love with her best friend and she has to find a way to find herself, make a meaning out of her feelings, and hide the truth from her conservative small town and religious peers.

Lucky Red - Claudia Cravens (2023) / "A vibrant and cinematic debut set in the American West about a scrappy orphan who finds friendship, romance, and her true calling as a revenge-seeking gunslinger." Lesbian cowboys

Neon Roses - Rachel Dawson (2023) / “Eluned Hughes is stuck. It's 1984 in a valley in south Wales: the miners' strike is ravaging her community; her sister's swanned off with a Thatcherite policeman; and her boyfriend Lloyd keeps bringing up marriage. And if they play '99 Red Balloons' on the radio one more time, she might just lose her mind. Then the fundraising group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners comes down from London, and she meets June, a snaggle-toothed blonde in a too-big leather jacket. Suddenly, Eluned isn't stuck any more - she's in freefall. June's an artist and an activist, living in a squat in Camden. With June, Eluned can imagine a completely different - and exciting - life for herself. But as her family struggles with the strike, and her relationship with her sister deteriorates, should she really leave it all behind? From the Valleys to the nightclubs of Cardiff, London and Manchester, NEON ROSES is a heartwarming, funny and a little bit filthy queer coming-of-age story with a cracking '80s soundtrack.”

Tale of Three Ships - Darcia G. Laucerica (2023) / “In a world under the thumb of an empire, pirates sail away searching for a breath of freedom. But even the ocean is tainted by the powerful nation that has spread lies about women being bad luck at sea. Glenlivet has never cared about the fear-mongering. Her ship welcomes those who are rejected and need a home. For all the sailor' s superstitions and "codes" of piracy the captain mocks every day, not leaving the docks when it's dark is a personal boundary she swears by ever since acquiring The Outsider about eight years ago. She just might have to break her own rules to protect her crew, escape the claws of a king who wants her dead, and murder the man who raised her.” I’ve heard so many good things about this. Lesbian main character, with mlm and trans side characters. Author in social media said it includes: Chosen pirate family, sirens, indigenous and latine inspired characters, anti-colonialism, and people fighting injustice and abuse.

How to Breathe Ash - Alex Nonymous (2023) / “Eleanor Perrault doesn't know if there's a right way to handle being suddenly orphaned at sixteen, but it's definitely not the way that she's been coping with it. It's been two months since her parents died and despite her autism normally causing her to be even more emotionally volatile than most of her peers, she still hasn't even managed to cry over them yet. On top of trying to learn how to grieve properly, Eleanor's juggling starting a new semester in a new town with an aunt who seems eternally disappointed in her and a cousin who's randomly decided to start hating her. And a crush on the incredibly pretty president of her new school's QSA. How to Breathe Ash is a contemporary YA Cinderella retelling following Eleanor through elaborate dances, anonymous chat rooms, and learning the right way to not be alright.” Autistic mc! While I haven’t read anything from this author (yet) they have lots of wlw/nblw/nblnb books with autistic main characters.

War and Solace: A Tale from Norvegr - Edale Lane (2023) / “A battle-hardened shieldmaiden. A pacifist healer. Can the two find love amid the chaos of war? From Edale Lane, the award-winning, best-selling author of Sigrid & Elyn, comes a new Tale from Norgevr! Tyrdis is a stalwart warrior raised to value honor, courage, and military prowess. When a traumatic injury renders the powerful protector helpless, she depends on the lovely, tender-hearted Adelle to restore her from the brink of death. Is it merely gratitude or true love that draws Tyrdis to the healer? Defying cultural norms, Adelle despises violence and those who propagate it, but when her shieldmaiden patient saves the life of her beloved little girl, she must reexamine her values. Could Tyrdis be more than a stiff, efficient killer with an amazing body? In a kingdom steeped in conflict with their neighbors and internal strife, shocking secrets are revealed, and both women strive to ensure justice prevails. Can they overcome their differences to safeguard their friends, end the war, and fall in love, or will fate prove to be a cruel sovereign?” Historical fiction set during 643. The author also has another two sapphic books set in the same time period.

Maddalena and the Dark - Julia Fine (2023) / “A novel set in 18th-century Venice at a prestigious music school, about two girls drawn together by a dangerous wager Venice, 1717. Fifteen-year-old Luisa has only wanted one thing: to be the best at violin. As a student at the Ospedale della Pietà, she hopes to join the highest ranks of its illustrious girls' orchestra and become a protégé of the great Antonio Vivaldi. Luisa is good at violin, but she is not the best. She has peers, but she does not have friends. Until Maddalena. After a scandal threatens her noble family's reputation, Maddalena is sent to the Pietà to preserve her marriage prospects. When she meets Luisa, Maddalena feels the stirrings of a friendship unlike anything she has known. But Maddalena has a secret: she has hatched a dangerous plot to rescue her future her own way. When she invites Luisa into her plans, promising to make her dreams come true, Luisa doesn't hesitate. But every wager has its price, and as the girls are drawn into the decadent world outside the Pietà's walls, they must decide what it is they truly want—and what they will do to pay for it. Lush and heady, swirling with music and magic, Maddalena and the Dark is a Venetian fairytale about the friendship between two girls and the boundless desire that will set them free, if it doesn't consume them first.”

Greasepaint - Hannah Levene (2024) / “Set against a backdrop of 1950s New York, this experimental novel follows an ensemble cast of all-singing, all-dancing butch dykes and Yiddish anarchists through eternal Friday nights, around the table, and at the bar. In one of many bars, Frankie Gold sings while Sammy Silver plays piano after a day job at the anarchist newspaper. The Butch Piano Players Union meets in the corner next to the jukebox. Laur smokes on the back steps, sweaty thigh to thigh with Vic. Frankie's childhood sweetheart, Lily, turns up at yet another bar to see a second Sammy play every Friday night. And before all that, there's always dinner at Marg's. Fabulated out of oral histories, anthologies, as well as the fiction of the butch-femme bar scene and Yiddish anarchist tradition, Greasepaint is a rollicking whirlwind of music and politics- the currents of community embodied and held inside the bar.”

Perfume & Pain - Anna Dorn (2024) / “A controversial Los Angeles author attempts to revive her career and finally find true love in this hilarious nod to 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. Having recently moved both herself and her formidable perfume bottle collection into a tiny bungalow in Los Angeles, mid-list author Astrid Dahl finds herself back in the Zoom writer's group she cofounded, Sapphic Scribes, after an incident that leaves her and her career lightly canceled. But she temporarily forgets all that by throwing herself into a few sexy distractions—like Ivy, a grad student who smells like metallic orchids and is researching 1950s lesbian pulp, or her new neighbor, Penelope, who smells like patchouli. When Astrid receives an unexpected call from her agent with the news that actress and influencer Kat Gold wants to adapt her previous novel for TV, Astrid finally has a chance to resurrect her waning career. But the pressure causes Astrid's worst vice to rear its head—the Patricia Highsmith, a blend of Adderall, alcohol, and cigarettes-and results in blackouts and a disturbing series of events. Unapologetically feminine yet ribald, steamy yet hilarious, Anna Dorn has crafted an exquisite homage to the lesbian pulp of yore, reclaiming it for our internet—and celebrity-obsessed world”

How It Works Out - Myriam Lacroix (2024) / “Surreal, darkly comic and achingly tender, Myriam Lacroix's debut sees a queer love story play out in many alternate realities. What if you had the chance to rewrite the course of your relationship, again and again, in the hopes that it would work out? After Myriam and Allison fall in love at a show in run-down punk house, their relationship starts to unfold through a series of hypotheticals. What if they became mothers by finding a baby in an alley? What if the only cure for Myriam's depression was Allison's flesh? What if they were B-list celebrities, famous for writing a book about building healthy lesbian relationships? How much darker-or sexier-would their dynamic be if one were a power-hungry CEO, and the other her lowly employee? From the fantasies of early romance to the slow encroaching of violence that unravels the fantasy, each reality builds to complete a brilliant, painfully funny portrait of love's many promises and perils. Equal parts sexy and profane, unsentimental, and gut-wrenching, How It Works Out is a formally inventive, arresting, uncanny exploration of queerness, love, and our drive for connection, in any and all possible worlds.”

All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny (@a-kind-of-merry-war) (2024) / “Oxfordshire 1362. When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna's hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo's hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily's control, Jo must help her escape. Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo's past caches up with her and Lily's reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that choices must always come at a cost. The question they need to ask is if the cost is worth the price of love…” The cover of the edition coming out in November is SO pretty and lately I’ve been looking for medieval sapphic books like crazy.

Gentlest of Wild Things - Sarah Underwood (2024) / So this book is by the same author as Lies We Sing to the Sea, and I’m in no rush to read that book (a so-called odyssey retelling even tho the author has admitted to never actually reading the odyssey??) but this one looks compelling. “On the island of Zakynthos, nothing is more powerful than Desire-love itself, bottled and sold to the highest bidder by Leandros, a power-hungry descendent of the god Eros. Eirene and her beloved twin sister, Phoebe, have always managed to escape Desire's thrall. Until Leandros' wife dies mysteriously and he sets his sights on Phoebe. Determined to keep her sister safe, Eirene strikes a bargain with Leandros: if she can complete the four elaborate tasks he sets her, he will find another bride. But it soon becomes clear that the tasks are part of something bigger; something related to Desire and Lamia, the strange, neglected daughter Leandros keeps locked away. Lamia knows her father hides her for her own protection, though as she and Eirene grow closer, she finds herself longing for the outside world. But the price of freedom is high, and with something deadly-something hungry- stalking the night, that price must be paid in blood…” The author said that “Gentlest of Wild Things is a sapphic vampiric twist on the story of Eros and Psyche”

The End Crowns All - Bea Fitzgerald (2024) / “Princess. Priestess. The most beautiful girl in Troy. Casandra is used to being adored - and when her patron god, Apollo, offers her the power of prophecy, she sees an opportunity to rise even higher. But when she fails to uphold her end of the agreement, she discovers just how very far she has to fall. No one believes her visions. And they all seem to be of one girl - and the war she's going to bring to Troy's shores. Helen fled Sparta in pursuit of love, but it's soon clear Troy is a court like any other, with all its politics and backstabbing. And one princess seems particularly intent on driving her from the city before disaster can strike... But when war finally comes, it's more than the army at their walls they must contend with. Casandra and Helen might hold the key to reweaving fate itself - especially with the prophetic strands drawing them ever closer together. But how do you change your future when the gods themselves are dictating your demise?” Sapphic retelling of the iliad where Helen and Kassandra end up together

Idolfire - Grace Curtis (2025, March 11) / “An epic sapphic fantasy roadtrip inspired by the fall of Rome, from the Sunday Times bestselling author of Frontier and Floating Hotel On one side of the world, Aleya Ana-Ulai is desperate for a chance. Her family have written her off as a mistake, but she's determined to prove every last one of them wrong. On the other, Kirby of Wall's End is searching for redemption. An ancient curse tore her life apart, but to fix it, she'll have to leave everything behind. Fate sets them both on the path to Nivela, a city once poised to conquer the world with the power of a thousand stolen gods. Now the gates are closed and the old magic slumbers. Dead - or waiting for a spark to light it anew... A character-driven science-fantasy road trip book with sword fights and a slowburn romance, Idolfire delves into the vastness of history and the terrifying power of organized faith.”

If asked, I’ll also do one with gay books

(No 1950s lesbians because I don’t like pulp fiction :( )

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coochiequeens · 2 years ago

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This should not have taken so long

Trans women who have hurt or threatened women or girls will not be held in female prisons unless there are "exceptional" circumstances, new guidance states.

The Scottish Prison Service (SPS) policy follows a public outcry after a rapist was sent to a women's prison.

Isla Bryson raped two women while known as Adam Graham.

The Scottish Conservatives said the new policy was "subjective" and "unacceptable".

The latest figures show there were 23 trans prisoners in Scotland from January to March this year.

They included 19 trans women, seven of whom were in a women's prison, and four trans men - one of whom was in a male prison.

Under previous guidance drawn up in 2014, the prison service allowed prisoners to be placed in facilities matching their gender identity, rather than their sex at birth, providing accommodation that "best suits the person in custody's needs".

This was reviewed and in February, following the Bryson case, it was updated to say no newly convicted or remanded transgender prisoner with a history of violence against women would be housed in female prison facilities.

Under the new policy - which will come into force in February 2024 - a trans woman would not be allowed to move into the female estate if they had been convicted of, or were on remand awaiting trial for, a crime that harmed a female - unless there was "compelling evidence that they did not present an unacceptable risk of harm to those in the women's prison".

These offences include any that result in suffering to a female, such as sexual offences, murder, assault, abduction and intimidation.

Those who have changed their legal gender can also be housed in accordance with their sex at birth, "if it is considered necessary to support people's safety and wellbeing".

The policy states: "Only when staff have enough information to reach a decision that a trans individual can be safely accommodated will they be placed in an establishment which matches their affirmed gender."

Trans men will be admitted to the female estate, but those who have committed crimes against women may be kept separate from other prisoners if it is "deemed necessary" to "keep women in custody safe".

The new guidelines also allow officers to search inmates regardless of the inmate's "affirmed gender" or sex assigned at birth, "if it is necessary to keep the individual or staff safe".

Risks carefully managed'

Teresa Medhurst, chief executive of the Scottish Prison Service, said if a trans woman's offences were historic and low level, they could be moved to the female estate, but she stressed that would be exceptional.

She said all prisoners were "treated with dignity and respect, with their rights upheld, and any risks carefully managed".

"The position, whilst it is still individualised, will ensure that those that have a history of violence against women and girls and present a risk to women will no longer be placed on admission in the women's estate.

"I am content that everyone who is a transgender individual is located in the prison which best suits their risk and needs profile."

She added that she was confident the new policy would address public concerns surrounding trans prisoners.

The Scottish government's Justice Secretary Angela Constance said the new policy protected the "safety and welfare" of staff and prisoners, and the "rights of transgender people".

She said: "SPS has considerable expertise, as well as a duty of care for the management of people in their custody, and this policy upholds its responsibilities to deliver safe, secure and suitable services for all."

Scottish Conservative justice spokesman Russell Findlay MSP said the new prison policy was "unacceptable" and put women at "even greater risk by further eroding their fundamental right to single-sex space".

"They say that male prisoners with a history of violence against women or girls should be allowed in the female estate and will only be blocked if they present a risk, which is completely subjective."

Lucy Hunter Blackman, from policy analysts Murray Blackburn Mackenzie, said any new policy in Scotland should not "talk narrowly about the potential risk of a physical or sexual assault".

She added: "It needs to recognise how the presence of someone male might impact upon group of vulnerable traumatised women, held in spaces from which they cannot escape."

#UK #KeepPrisonsSingleSex #Scottish Prison Service (SPS)

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thatgaeilgeoirhag · 8 months ago

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I'm so alone without you (angst)

Tate Langdon x Reader

Summary: You visit the murder house after Tate's death. Inspired by the song "A House in Nebraska" by Ethel Cain.

Warnings: mentions of death, school shootings and suggested suicide. It's insinuated that Tate and the reader have slept together. No mentions of the reader's gender. No use of y/n.

a/n: this is the first fic that I've ever posted, and I doubt anyone will read this but I had this idea and wanted to write it. any writing advice would be greatly appreciated.

------------------------------------------------

There was a chill in the air. Just like the day you first met Tate Langdon, and just like that day in the cemetery with his family. No one came to the funeral except his remaining family, his mother, his sister, and you. Hey, who would show up to the funeral of a guy that shot up a school? Your parents didn't want you to go but you needed to. You needed to grieve the boy you knew, and not that monster that the world now knows him as.

So now, you found yourself outside the gate of his house, where you forged your most precious memories with Tate. You pushed the gate and it made that sharp sound it always had. Your feet treaded the path you walked so many times, up the steps and stopped at the front door. You still had the key Tate had made for you so you could come over as you pleased, now you just hoped that the locks weren't changed when Constance and Addie moved out. You inserted the key into the door and miraculously you heard a click. The door swung open. You hesitated. Was this a good idea?

You took a deep breath and stepped inside. You walked the halls of the house and up the stairs, your feet automatically brought you to what was once Tate's room. Now however, the room is empty. All traces of his gone. No furniture, no posters, nothing. Not even the smell of him remained. You sat against the wall in the space where Tate's bed used to be The bed where he made you his, back in a time where it was you two against the world. When the two of you had nothing except each other He was your home.

You shuffled on the floor into a more comfortable position. "Tate?" you whispered under your breath, "wherever you are, I miss you". The room remained still. "The last time I was here I had just had another fight with Dad. I cried so hard 'cause he didn't even try understand my point of view. I had come here because you were the only one who always understood me. And after I cried in your arms you cracked some stupid joke to make me laugh, and I did, like I always did." You exhaled and leaned your head back against the wall.

"You know, your Mom calls me sometimes to see how I'm doing. I lie. I tell her I'm fine like I tell everyone when they ask me that. What no one knows, is that I'd kill myself just to hold you one more time. Or even just touch your skin or run my fingers through your hair. It hurts to miss you 'cause of what you did. The guilt I feel for not knowing you would do such a thing and try to stop you-" you began to choke on your words as you noticed the tears streaming down your face now.

"Your the only person I could ever talk to about how I really feel. I was never scared to tell you that I hurt. Now, all I can do now is look at old photographs and talk to myself in your old house like an idiot." You stood up suddenly. "This is stupid."

You stormed out of the room, but just as you stepped into the hallway you heard an all too familiar voice behind you. "Don't go." You stopped in your tracks. There's no way. You slowly turned around, afraid of what you might see, or maybe even worse, what you don't see.

There, in the center of the room, stood Tate. Without thinking, you sped into his arms. "Am I dead?" you muttered under your breath. "No, your alive alright" Tate whispered into your ear with a chuckle. You removed your head from his chest and looked up to his face, the face you were sure you'd only ever see again in photographs. "Then how are you here?" you were careful not to let go of him, who knows how long you would be able to do this, "Tate, your dead." You were confused, and rightfully so.

"Yeah, I am" he said softly. There was a moment of silence which was then broken by a harsh smack. Tate raised his hand from your waist to his cheek. "Dude! What was that for?" he snapped. "What was that for?" you scoffed, your body became tense "Tate you killed people! You could have talked to me but you decided it was a better idea to set a man on fire and bring a gun to school? What the actual fuck was wrong with you?" You shook Tate's hand off of you and took a step back, flailing your arms at him in anger. The shocked, hurt expression on his face disappeared. His eyes became red and his lips rested into a soft frown. No words left his mouth. The air became thick and heavy as you continued to stare him down, angry and hurt.

The anger dissipated and your body loosens. "You hurt people, Tate" your words were no longer full of anger, they were full of pain, "you hurt me, you left me alone." You took another step away from him. Tate took a step closer to you, "I-" he exhaled helplessly "I'm sorry, I know that doesn't erase the things I did."

You finally turned around to leave, "maybe you could visit me from time to time?" Tate pleaded, "it gets lonely here, we could pretend nothing happened if you want to." You stood there, hesitating. You could never forgive him, but just minutes ago you begged to be with him again, to talk to him, to hold him.

Without a word, you fled the house, leaving Tate there in his empty room.

#tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #american horror story #ahs murder house #angst #fanfic #ethel cain #a house in nebraska #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters fandom #tate langdon x you #evan peters x you

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deerdoeb · 4 months ago

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I need to wash my hair right now, so instead have headcanons of rtc characters washing their hair, idk

Constance has perfectttt hair, probably the best of the entire choir, and she uses specific products for afro hair because I said so

Penny does not take care of her hair at all, she does but only when its EXTREMELY needed, its a miracle that it looks good / Jane has a doll head, and Penny took very good care of her dolls, so yea, Jane hair is awesome

Ricky takes a lot of care of his hair, idk how to explain it, I just think he does, and hes constantly praised for it

Idk about Mischa, I think everyone believes his hair is not taken care but he actually cares a lot about it...And he uses shampoo 3 in 1😒

Noel's hair is AMAZING, and he won't let anyone touch it except Constance, but he trusts her

Ocean hair is kinda in the middle?? Not extremely good but also not extremely bad?? idk, but she thinks her hair is the best

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year ago

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OMG OMG HISUI CONGRATS PN THE MILESTONE!! I've been following your blog for quite a while and I am so so happy to see it flourish (pun intended) so beautifully! I also wish you the best of luck in your exams and endeavors ❤️❤️

If you feel like it, I'd love to have Jamil with a bouquet of Bellflowers, Lavender and Baby's breath. I get so happy with flower events~

Bellflowers represent everlasting love and constancy, with Lavenders representing devotion and serenity and, at last, Baby's Breath sincerity, purity and love. I actually have two species of Lavender at home, it how much I adore them 💜

And a yellow rose for you!

we should try

Pairing: Jamil Viper x gn!reader

Synopsis: jamil doesn't like holding on to hope, but you're always the exception in his life

Tags: comfort, domestic fluff, cuddling

Word count: 448

Notes: i love the selection of flowers!!! also thank you for the yellow rose🥺💕 i hope you'll like the fic!!

Masterlist

flowers of choice:

bellflowers: everlasting love and constancy

lavenders: devotion and serenity

baby's breath: sincerity, purity and love

The moon spilt its gentle luminescence through the window, painting delicate shadows across the room. Jamil nestled into the plush pillows with a heavy sigh, weariness etched into every line of his form. His shoulders slumped, his exhaustion palpable after another long day's work in Scarabia.

You sat beside him, your fingers glided through his hair in rhythmic strokes, each movement a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The diligent and responsible vice-housewarden was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind only the weary soul of your beloved. "You've been working so hard," you murmured softly.

Jamil closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation. "I’m used to it at this point,” he sighs into the pillow. “It’s nicer now, having you here with me," he confessed, his voice tinged with gratitude.

"I'm glad to be here," you replied softly, continuing to brush out his hair with gentle care. "I'm glad to have you."

A pause settled between you, a comfortable silence punctuated only by the rhythm of your ministrations. Then, Jamil sighed once more, a sound of pure contentment escaping his lips. "I wish things could stay like this forever," he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare in the dim light of the room.

"Could? I think we definitely will," you assured him, your voice filled with conviction.

He shifted to face you, his weary gaze delving into the depths of your eyes. "You truly think so?" he inquired, a flicker of optimism dancing in his tired expression.

"Well, you won't know if you don't try," you replied, a soft smile gracing your lips as your gaze drifted towards the starry night sky visible through the window, its vastness echoing your uncertainty of the future. "But you're definitely not getting rid of me so easily," you added, a playful giggle escaping you.

Jamil chuckled in response, his weariness momentarily overshadowed by the warmth of your presence. "As if I'd ever let you go willingly," he retorted. He closed his eyes in thought, imagining what a future with you would be like. He imagines shared laughter and quiet moments of intimacy, days spent working tirelessly only to find solace in your embrace at night, and hours spent lost in conversation and affection. He imagined facing life's challenges together, drawing strength from each other's support and unwavering commitment. With you, he saw a future brimming with possibility, where every hurdle was overcome hand in hand, and every joy magnified by the depth of their connection.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his hand reaching out to find yours, fingers intertwining in hope. "We should try."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#✧2k! blossoming bouquets✦#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper x mc #twst jamil viper #twst jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 year ago

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hey 💗

could I please request a smut fic where charles blackwood develops a (borderline obsessive) crush on his cousins housemaid and he ends up fucking her in the shower or bath?

[ik it’s out there but I just rewatched we have always lived in the castle and just seeing seb in a fancy bathtub did things to me…ik it’s weird but still…🫶]

Cute Little Maid » Charles Blackwood

Pairings: Charles Blackwood x Maid!Reader

Summary: Charles has a crush on his cousin’s maid.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, shower sex, praise kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 the bathtub scene did things to me too🤭

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found these on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Constance, I- oh, I’m sorry.” You apologized walking in the living and seen the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. “I didn’t know you were having company today.” You say.

“It’s ok.” Constance smiles. “Y/N, this is my cousin Charles. Charles, this our maid Y/N.” She introduces you two.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

“You too.” Charles smiles. “Call me Charles.” He says, shamelessly checking you out.

That was a few weeks ago. Now, Charles can’t seem to keep himself away from you. He’s developed a huge crush on you. Every time you need to go to the store, he gives you a ride. He follows you around the house and watches you clean without you noticing. He would try to get as close as he possibly could to you. He also can’t help but imagine what he wants to do to you sexually.

Charles is whistling to himself as he was walking down the hallway to his bedroom. His whistling stops when he heard a noise in his room and seen the door open. He opened the door to see you putting his neatly folded clothes in his dresser. He walked further in the room and stood a couple feet behind you, waiting for you to turn around. You jumped when you turned around, not expecting Charles to be standing behind you.

“Oh Mr. Blackwood…” You put your hand on your chest where your heart is. “You scared me.” You giggled. “Did you need something?” You asked.

“Yes, you.” Charles thinks to himself.

“I would like some extra towels please.” He says politely.

“I’ll get them right now.” You say.

You walked past him to get him extra towels while Charles went in the bathroom to take a shower. He turned the shower on and stripped himself of his clothes. You walked in the bathroom at the same time he was taking his boxers off. You gasped and closed your eyes, making Charles turn around and smirk.

“I am so sorry.” You apologized for walking in on him naked. “Here’s your extra towels.” You say, holding the towels out for him.

Charles took the towels from your hands and put them on the sink counter. You heard him close the bathroom door. Your heart started pounding when you felt his presence. Your eyes fluttered open. You tried so hard not to look down at his dick. Charles walked closer to you. You walked backwards till your back hit the door. Your breathing quickened when his face was inches away from yours. One of his hands disappeared under your dress, finding its way to your wet panties. A desperate whimper fell from your lips when his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He pulled your panties down your legs and dropped them on the floor. His fingers rubbed from your clit to your entrance. He slid two fingers in your pussy, moving them at a decent pace.

“Mr. Blackwood…” You moaned softly. “This is-” The words died on your tongue before you could finish your sentence.

“This is what, sweetheart?” Charles asks, smirking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was a moan. There was nothing in your mind, except the thought of your boss’s cousin fucking you with his fingers.

Your head fell back against the door, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your pussy. Your nails dug into the wood of the door when his fingers went impossibly deeper. Charles leaned in closer to you, kissing just below your ear, making you moan.

“I wonder what your pussy will feel like wrapped around my cock.” Charles whispers in your ear.

A whimper fell from your lips at the thought of him fucking you. His thumb found its way to your clit, applying pressure to it and rubbing it in circles. His fingers curled inside of you, hitting your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You moaned.

Charles smirks to himself, happy that he found your sweet spot. His fingers continued to hit your sweet spot every time he curled his fingers against it. This man knew what he was doing, because he was about to make you cum sooner than you expected. You pussy clenched around his fingers. Charles knew you were about to cum. He thrusted his fingers faster, wanting your orgasm to build up faster. Your mouth fell open, a moan of his name fell from your lips as you came hard on his fingers. His thumb gave your clit a particularly rough rub before he took his fingers out of your pussy.

You looked at him, trying to catch your breath. Charles’s eyes were filled with lust. He pulled your dress over your head and dropped it on the floor. His hand disappeared behind your back and expertly unclasped your bra, letting it fall from your chest. He grabbed your arm and pulled you inside of the shower with him. He pinned you against the shower wall, kissing you hungrily. You moaned against his lips.

“I’ve wanted this since the day we met.” Charles admits breathlessly against your lips.

“Oh yea?” You say.

Charles turns your body around, pushing the front of your body against the shower wall. He kisses along your shoulders, up to your neck. His teeth bit down hard enough to mark you up. You gasped when you felt his hard cock against your ass cheek. His precum smeared against your skin.

“You feel what you do to me, darling?” His voice is husky. “You make my cock so hard.” He says in almost a whisper, grinding his cock against your ass for some relief.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it a couple times before rubbing it against your pussy, his tip bumping your clit, making you moan.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you and I will.” He says huskily.

“I- oh!” You paused when his tip circled your entrance. “I want you to fuck me, Charles.” You tell him. “Make me feel so good.” You say.

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess.” He says.

A gasp left your lips when Charles thrusted his whole cock in your pussy. You didn’t realize he was this big. The stretch of his cock entering your pussy hurt a little, but it also felt good. You braced yourself by putting your hands flat on the shower wall as he started thrusting. His thrusts were hard and fast, but also loving. Charles’s hands were on your hips, bringing you back with his thrusts. He looked down, watching his cock thrust in and out of your pussy, covered in your slick.

“Fuck…” Charles moans at the sight.

Your moans were like music to his ears. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, your back against the front of his body. Your head fell back against his shoulder, letting the pleasure take over your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He admits.

“Mmm yea?” You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’ve been watching you for a while.” He tells you. “You walking around the house in cute little dress. The way you bend over the kitchen table when you’re wiping it down after breakfast.” He lists off. “You make the littlest things innocent and dirty.” He breathes huskily against your skin.

You didn’t even care that he just admitted that he’s basically stalking you. Frankly, you couldn’t care less that he’s been watching you. To be honest, you like the attention he’s been giving you lately. It’s the most attention you’ve gotten in a while.

“I bet you’re enjoying this as much as me, aren’t you, honey?” He whispers huskily in your ear. “My cock deep in your pussy.” He says, kissing just below your ear.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan came out instead. Your mind was invaded by the dirtiest thoughts of what Charles could do to you. Pleasure taken over your body.

Charles’s free hand snaked up the front of your body, wrapping his hand around your throat, but not choking you. You let out a moan, loving the feeling of his hand on your throat. It turned you on even more. His other hand found its way to your clit, applying pressure and began rubbing it. Your pussy clenched around his cock, feeling his fingers on your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned more in a whimper. “Charles…” You say breathlessly.

“Yes, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.” Charles says in almost a whisper.

“I-” You weren’t sure what you were even begging for, but all you know is that you wanted more. “More!” You finally said.

“You want more, darling?” His voice is a little raspy. “I’ll give you more.” He says.

His fingers applied more pressure to your clit as he rubbed it faster. Your clit was beginning to feel sensitive, but you didn’t really care at the moment. You just wanted to enjoy the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. He also sped up his thrusts. You could feel every vein of his cock rubbing along your walls.

Your legs started to shake a little due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You pressed your hands firmer against the shower wall to keep yourself from falling. Charles’s hand left your throat to wrap around your waist as soon as your knees buckled. His cock found your sweet spot with ease, hitting it repeatedly. That caused your orgasm to build up.

“Charles, I- mmm fuck! I’m going to cum!” You tell him. “Please let me cum!” You begged.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He says huskily.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your toes curled against the shower floor as you came on his cock. Charles fucked you through your orgasm and gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm.

“Good girl.” Charles praises breathlessly. “Such a good girl for me.” He praises again.

He almost lost rhythm with his thrusts, but quickly regained it. A curse word left his lips as he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. His cock stayed inside of you as the two of you caught your breath. His arm remained around your waist to hold you up. You leaned your forehead against the shower wall, enjoying the cool feeling of it against your heated skin.

“Looks like I got myself a cute little maid all to myself now.” Charles says, breaking the silence as he kissed along the skin of your shoulder.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

-Bucky’s Doll

#charles blackwood #we have always lived in the castle #sebastian stan #sebby stan #seb stan #sebastian stan characters #charles blackwood x female reader #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood x y/n #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood one shot #charles blackwood imagine #maid!reader

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liondrakes · 5 months ago

Text

On Chosen Identity and the Optics of Authenticity

by Sivaan of Candlekeep

Blurb: A personal essay in which I discuss the nuances of having a chosen identity. I also break down my thoughts on perceived “seriousness” or authenticity within the community regarding choice.

Choice is a complicated subject within the nonhuman community. Whether or not it's fully accepted depends on who you’re asking. If you ask me, I’d say yes but also no.

I say "fully" because there's plenty of individuals who'll say that they support or recognize their peers who chose their identities, but only if they identify this way under a broad label (like nonhuman) or a specific label like otherlinker. Calling oneself a chosen therian or chosen otherkin strikes a chord in complete strangers who feel like it's their duty to "correct" the language of other complete strangers.

Chosen identity is usually acknowledged in one of two ways:

It's "valid", but it's not as important to an individual as identities that aren't chosen.

It's "valid", but it's not as serious as identities that aren't chosen.

Neither approach treats our experiences with as much grace or understanding as other experiences.

It adds insult to injury in seeing discussions around our "validity" in general (i.e. asking if we even belong in this community). There's more of that than any discussion around what it's like for us to choose or the significance of choice in our identities.

I’ve addressed my grievances before in Involuntariness, Voluntariness, and the Stigmas in Between, but I decided to revisit my thoughts in an organized piece. I also decided to discuss my relationship with choice. I’m collectively quoiluntary. In being quoiluntary, my relationship with origin doesn’t fall neatly on either side of this framework.

Personally, I experience all manners of origin but I’ll be focusing on the identities I’ve chosen in this essay. I’m only one person, and although it’s not guaranteed, I hope that my experiences can at least open some minds when it comes to chosen identity.

Starting off, I’m proud to be a Badger of Mossflower Country. Mossflower Badgers are archetypal in their existence, to say the least. Our depictions are comparable to that of fantasy dwarves. We’re renowned for our smithing, battle prowess, and hardiness. I may not apply every aspect of us to myself, but I love being a Mossflower Badger nonetheless.

Mossflower Badgers are somewhat anthropomorphic european badgers who’re among the most prominent tribes in Redwall, alongside mice and otters. I specify Mossflower because the Mossflower Woods is the general vicinity of most Redwall stories.

Moreover, not all Badgers dwell within Salamandastron, a notable badger stronghold typically occupied by men of the species. After all, the first badger that readers meet is Constance, a Badger Mother of Redwall. I personally prefer the position of “Badger of Salamandastron”, though. I am no lord nor lady, but I’m fond of this stronghold as a reader and as someone who chose this identity.

I’ve always admired these strong and noble folk. As a child, part of me even wanted to be a badger within Brian Jacques’s Redwall series. It’s like when kids muse on which Warriors clan they’d be in while taking quizzes or making characters. If I could choose to be in any tribe, I’d be a badger in a heartbeat.

A couple months ago, Redwall was one of the few childhood favorites I revisited through audiobooks. Those feelings resurfaced, except this time I knew I could become a Mossflower Badger if I wanted to. This identity started as a link. Soon after, I shared my introspections on this link in a Tumblr Community, specifically the Alterhuman Community.

Unlike most of my links, it became a part of my identity fairly quickly. I suspect it’s because of my familiarity and resonance with this fictional group. Those feelings have been around since my childhood.

One thing to take into account is that I incorporate another identity into this one. I didn’t choose to be a honey badger, but I do perceive myself as a semi-anthropomorphic honey badger when I am a Mossflower Badger. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Mossflower Badgers are exclusively european badgers in appearance. This makes sense given the settings of Redwall. Redwall takes place within a fantasy woodland based on the environments of England or Scotland if I’m not mistaken.

While I technically don’t belong in this environment, that never stopped me in being a Mossflower Badger. Technicalities are nothing against my convictions, and one thing about choice is that you are often your own master.

My appearance doesn’t define me as a Mossflower Badger. My character does. I am steadfast in my values. I support the agency and freedoms of all creatures. I’d rather go down swinging than bow my head in submission, than to sullenly accept plight at the hands of another. That’s just being humane on paper, but in relation to Redwall, that’s also the makings of a tried and true badger.

Furthermore, there’s an experience among Mossflower Badgers that’s not exclusive to them but happens to them so much that it reminds me of myself. Mossflower Badgers tend to carry a mental condition known as Bloodwrath. It intensifies the emotions, abilities and tolerances of an individual, essentially causing them to enter a berserker state. Often triggered in battle, it’s a traumatic ordeal for anyone who undergoes this state. It’s not completely without its setbacks in battle either, for it can cause someone to struggle with differentiating between their friends and their foes. It’s also very difficult to control. Not all badgers carry this condition, but it’s still quite common amongst us.

I don’t experience berserker shifts, per se. However, I do have schizophrenia-based disorders which affect my perception of self; this includes my perception of my species. In revisiting the Redwall series, I liken Bloodwrath to my own struggles with particularly intense or overwhelming bouts with psychosis. Obviously, I didn’t choose to have said experiences but I do think choosing to be a Mossflower Badger helped me reflect on those experiences on my own terms.

Though, I must specify this isn’t a copinglink. This is just another reason why Mossflower Badgers resonate with me so much, hence my decision in becoming one.

Much like Mossflower Badgers, some of my links formed simply because I wanted to be them. While there’s usefulness to terms like copinglinker and funlinker, I also feel like they’re more boxes to put on myself. It’s not often that I refer to my links under those specifics. I have exactly one copinglink, and I only label it as such because I believe that’s how that identity will stay. It exists to cope with a very upsetting point in my life which I won’t get into.

As for the rest of my links, I had only two supportlinks. Besides those, my links didn’t really need those labels since their reasonings tend to be a bit more nuanced than what’s proposed for otherlinkers.

I link Colossi because Shadow of the Colossus is not only my favorite game ever, but it is a game that has deeply inspired me as a creative. I chose to be one of its titular enemies to grow closer with the game I love.

This is a choice not made for fun, for aesthetics or for support, but made out of love and passion for something. There’s nothing wrong with the aforementioned reasons, of course; I just want folks to understand that choice isn’t limited to those avenues.

I linked the Starlii, an open species, because I really liked the species concept. One could argue that this started as an aeslink, but reading about them in detail made me more invested beyond their looks. I wanted to further explore this species and their lore but not exclusively through original characters and ‘sonas. To do so, I chose to be a Starliian.

With this link, I also realized it serves as an outlet for my connection with the sun. I’ve never had a word for that connection as it always felt like an impasse between being and not being. Being a Starliian helps me bridge that gap by being someone pulled from solar energy but not being a sun myself. This realization ultimately caused the Starlii species to transition from a link to a formative part of my identity.

Despite already having a non-chosen identity from Creatures of Sonaria, I linked two species from said source for completely different reasons. Funny enough, I don’t play Roblox whatsoever.

The Fleuralis species became the first of two supportlinks. I originally chose to be a Fleuralis because I wanted to express my leonine nature within its source. However, the reasons behind my choice soon changed. It was less about asserting my leonine nature, and more about leaning into a more imaginative, fanciful side of myself. I linked this species to better embody myself as a fantasy creature. It worked so well that it eventually became a part of me.

The second was the Verza species. Their dreamlike space aesthetics were nice and all, but what led me to linking this species was their presentation. I was drawn to the Verza because, for a lack of better words, they were very gender to me. I’ve been meaning to explore other means of presentation, such as androgyny and femininity, while being a transmasculine individual. They’re avenues of selfhood I’ve wanted to forge for myself but always struggled with to some extent.

I chose to be a Verza to tap into those qualities. The Verza species was an ideal model outside the standpoint(s) of cisnormativity and orthohumanity, respectively. I experimented with this species from a queer perspective, and doing so made me feel a whole lot better about myself. Eventually, it transitioned from being a supportlink to simply being me.

I am an otherlinker not for my chosen identities, but for my struggles in saying with confidence that I am (x) by choice. Many of my constels come about because of involuntariness or vagueness. Additionally, I don’t get to choose what I shift into either. My polymorphism pretty much resets each day and takes the shape of my constels or core identities at random. I can choose a new species, no doubt about that. Embracing the choice is the hard part.

I’m so used to either knowing and not having a say in it or not knowing at all and letting things be as they may that it’s difficult for me to adjust to my choices. I’m an otherlinker because linking allows me to process those choices and build up my confidence.

If the process wasn’t so difficult, I probably wouldn’t call myself an otherlinker. There would be no need to. I could just specify which identity came about in what way if I felt like it. At the end of the day, I am who I am.

As is the case for chosen therians, otherkind, and nonhumans. They are who they are. Simple as that. I know that idea gets under the skin of some folks, but I implore them to ask themselves why it bothers them so much.

Someone choosing to be otherkin or a therian doesn’t inherently mean that they think all experiences involve choice. Someone choosing themselves doesn’t inherently mean they proceed with this identity in a disingenuous manner. These concerns boil down to people’s perceived “seriousness”.

The topic of “seriousness” has confused me for longer than it should have. What does it mean to have a serious identity? Identity is a nuanced subject. Who cares about its tone? I love having in-depth discussions about my experiences, or the experiences of others, with my peers. I also love joking around with my partner, saying “You wouldn’t hurt a little guy like me, would you?” during a badger shift and seconds before she snipes me in Splatoon. I love writing essays and poetry about my identity, but I also love Wet Beast Wednesday like any other blogger.

Voluntary identities are approached with the perspective that they aren’t given much thought. Chosen therians, otherkind, etc. are thought to be extremely laidback about their nonhumanity and go about their choice(s) without consideration. Meanwhile, their involuntary peers are thought to treat nonhumanity with the “seriousness” and complexity it holds as an experience.

Not only is the former’s behavior a non-issue, this approach is a false equivalency. Plenty of involuntary therians, otherkind, etc. have blogs and make posts that are lighthearted. You’ll find an infinite number of memes, shitposts, and reblog bait (ex: “Share to turn someone into a dragon!”) in our tags. Some are also shapeshifters, polymorphs, polykin or polytherians, and constelic nonhumans with many identities of their own. These qualities are not unique to voluntary members whatsoever.

I understand not relating to that sort of content. It’s not my speed unless I see something that actually humors me. That said, I don’t make it my problem. All of us engage with the community differently. I shared my thoughts with my partner a while ago, and I said something in passing that I feel is still relevant now. Perceivable “seriousness”, or lack thereof, is just another way to stress about authenticity.

Authenticity is a hurdle for any community. It’s certainly no stranger to us. This applies to both personal contexts (ex: “Am I still (x) if I (x)?”) and general contexts (ex: What are your thoughts on (x)?) among nonhumans.

Personal contexts come in the form of second-guessing oneself. It’s common to see a new member questioning every single detail about themself and worrying if it is the “right” or “wrong” means of experience. Some will find themselves in a community where they feel like they belong, but don’t want to “overstep” and risk being invalidated or ousted. They pour a lot of focus into what is the “right” or “wrong” way of being instead of focusing on their own journey. Regardless, that journey can still get caught up in concerns regarding validity.

The bridge between that and general communal contexts comes in the form of discourse. Old discourse is kicked up, and old stances are put into place to determine who is and is not one of us. I’m coming up on three years of being in this community, and for the first year or so, I wasn’t all that active. Most of my involvement started in early 2024, and despite the recency, even I’m tired of the tit-for-tat nature of our discourses.

This usually happens out of concern for KFFs (folks who “kin-for-fun”), trolls, and misinformed newcomers affecting the community. Even so, KFFs typically frequent fandom spaces and don’t associate themselves with us. They are hecklers, not participants. A multifandom blog asking their mutuals to “kin assign” them is not the same as someone who chose to be a werewolf. Moreover, a troll is a troll. I know our community has faced its fair share of assholes poking around, but someone identifying as a therian by choice isn’t enough evidence to go off of. As for misinformation, sharing resources and information is always welcomed. You can do that without trying to nudge someone out of a label.

In this case, folks tend to do this by nudging others towards using otherlinker. Otherlink/er is often used as a default for chosen identity, but it’s up to the individual whether or not they want to label their identity as such. I support spreading information about other labels in our community, but I don’t think insisting upon said labels helps anyone.

It’s like trying to nudge someone who uses synpath into using otherhearted instead. You have a general idea of what they’re talking about, so what difference does make it in telling them to use something else?

Some believe it’s to prevent confusion or conflation with words and their meanings, but I think folks are “helping” from a place of bias and aren’t aware of it. There’s so much emphasis on having a serious approach to identity that involuntariness, or intrinsic identity to some, is basically put on a pedestal. If there is any way to “prove” or assert the authenticity of your identity, it’s to experience it without choice.

It’s a perspective that I’ve grown bitter towards, even as someone with involuntary identities of my own. To me, this is a product of approaching involuntariness and voluntariness like a binary. This also comes from a place of respectability. Even if folks are loudly and proudly nonhuman, the ways in which they distance themselves from those who chose to be nonhuman leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

No one wants to be associated with “fluff”. No one wants to approach others’ experiences with fairness. Unless, of course, they linguistically separate themselves from therianthropy and otherkinity by calling themself something else.

They’re “valid” but only if they don’t label their experiences as we label ours! (This is sarcasm.)

Cringe culture is supposedly dead up until someone chooses to be what they want to be. Suddenly, they’re associated with all the bad actors one can list at the top of their head.

There’s a lot of “You’re so valid!”-posting but not a lot of substance coming from it. People want more weird and unapologetic nonhumans, but still struggle in accepting someone who creates their own identity. People want their peers to show how they’re “truly” are a part of this community. Yet, what we really need is to seal those old wounds.

We need to reconsider how we approach experiences outside of our own. Community isn’t just about the similarities we share but the diversity that brings us together as well. It’s about recognizing those differences and embracing them. There is beauty in innately being someone or something, but there is also beauty in choosing who you are and in having your own experiences outside of either concept.

Ask us about our experiences with choosing our identities and how we facilitate those decisions.

Ask us about our experiences fluctuating between or existing beyond the framework of voluntariness and involuntariness.

Don’t let it stop at the contexts of origin either. This applies to other stigmatized experiences as well. Physical nonhumanity, clinical zoanthropy, and endelity, to name a few. Reconsider holding discussions on someone’s right to be here. Instead, open up discussions alongside each other. How do they feel as members of this community?

If they’re comfortable sharing, ask them about their experiences. Their voices deserve to be heard just as much as everyone else. It’s not hard to do. It should be common sense, if anything.

If we focused more on understanding each other, regardless if we relate or not, I feel like this community would be a more welcoming place.

#𓃭; the liondrake’s lore #long post #otherlink #otherlinker #otherkin #otherkind #therian #therianthrope #chosen otherkin #chosen therian #voluntary identity #chosen identity #nonhuman #nonhumanity #nonhuman community #alterhuman #alterhuman community

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