#epitaph post

[sapphicplurals]

Presenting butch or femme can be super hard as a system, especially when you're partnered butch4butch, butch4femme, or femme4femme (+any other combination), but have other system members who use different labels than you.

Shoutout to everyone who wants to present butch! To those who want to present femme! To those who are both and/or neither! To those who can't and those who can, to those who present differently on different days, to those who feel shame for doing so and for those who are proud of your system-wide fluidity.

You do not owe singlets a single, system-wide label. You do not owe anyone an explanation. You just owe yourself some appreciation for getting this far.

[starshipabyss]

just went on a personal rant about being aro + amatonormitivity AND someone was like "its literally not that deep" like i didnt say it has to be? this is my experience? AND THEN. APROS OF MENTIONING I WAS A SYSTEM. they said "i just assume anyone who says they're a system is lying" HELLO? BLOCKED!

[wikipediasunbear]

maybe if i say "hey im going to research sun bear facts" i will in fact do that

[schizoautisticisms]

oh man we need to redo this blog

[daenerysoftarth]

“Stranger, what I say is short. Stand and read over it. This is the hardly beautiful tomb of a beautiful woman. Her parents called her Claudia. She loved her husband with all her heart. She had two sons, one of whom she leaves on earth, the other she placed under it. With pleasant conversing but respectable gait she cared for her home and made wool. I have spoken. Move along.”

Roman epitaph CIL 06.15346

x

[sgt-tombstone]

When Soap caught a glimpse of the red and white app on Ghost’s phone, he wasn’t sure he saw it correctly. It was the quickest flash, out of the corner of his eye, in a dark and crowded pub the night after one of the longest ops they’d been on in a long time. Surely, it wasn’t…

But then he saw it again, a few days later, when Ghost pulled out his phone to message Price about something inane, Soap sitting next to him like always. And there it was: Clue Period & Cycle Tracker.

He knew he’d recognized it the first time; it was the same app that his sister used when she and her husband had been trying for their second child, and he’d know the app logo anywhere with how often she’d shoved her phone in his face, complaining about fertility windows and PMS. But, contrary to popular belief, John MacTavish knew when to keep his mouth shut, so he didn’t mention it, despite the questions crawling up his throat like ants.

That didn’t mean he didn’t acknowledge it at all, though. It was a little hard to come to terms with, his hulking lieutenant being trans, but it didn’t change how he felt about him, the smoldering lust (and love) that he felt just by being in the same room as him. He needed to show Simon that it didn’t bother him, that he’d be supportive of him no matter what. That he would love him no matter what.

So, in typical MacTavish fashion, he started talking. Small stuff, at first, comments about how fucking stupid anti-trans laws were or how he’d always prioritized the people he loved over whatever was in their pants. It was awkward at times, and maybe a little heavy-handed, but he was trying his best. All it gained him, though, were confused looks from everyone around him, Ghost included. At one point, Gaz even pulled him aside and pointedly asked if there was anything he wanted to tell him, but Soap didn’t dare out his lieutenant, so he stammered through a denial and beat a hasty retreat.

Maybe he needed to be more explicit. The on-store base sold the bare minimum of period supplies, and he didn’t know anything about Ghost’s cycles, so he grabbed what he vaguely remembered his sister mentioning, along with some chocolate, pain killers, and a heating pad. It wasn’t much, woefully inadequate and almost comically small in the only box he had in his room, but… he was trying his best.

He knocked on Ghost’s door that night, box under his arm and heart in his throat. When Ghost opened the door, he practically shoved the box into his chest, his face burning with embarrassment, and Ghost leveled him with a questioning look as he waved him inside. The last thing Soap wanted to do was have this conversation, but he stepped in anyway, heart hammering as Ghost closed the door behind him.

“What is this, Sergeant?”

For once, Soap didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was a bad idea. How did one tell their superior officer that they were aware of and fully supported their gender identity, despite said superior officer never having actually told them about it? They didn’t, that’s how. Except that’s exactly what Soap had to do, somehow.

“I, uh,” he stammered. Great start. “I just wanted tae-“

“Why are you giving me pads, Soap?”

Soap wanted the floor to swallow him whole and leave nothing but a soot stain on the floor to indicate his swift descent into hell. Ghost had opened the box and was looking over it at him, one eyebrow raised in bafflement.

“I just,” Soap said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Was it hot in here? He felt sweat drip down the valley of his spine as Ghost continued to fix him with that same expectant stare. “I just thought ye might-“

“Do you think I have a period, Soap?”

It wasn’t said with an air of disgust, or even derision, just earnest curiosity, but it prickled something defensive in Soap anyway, and he rushed to explain himself.

“Ah saw ye had an app on yer phone and it’s the same one my sister uses so I figured ye were trans and just hidin’ it well so I just…”

He drifted off, words petering out when he registered Ghost’s chuckles. In fact, he was full on laughing, curled slightly over the box still in his arms, one hand raised to his face, pulling off his mask to wipe at his eyes. Hot rage swept through Soap at the sound.

“You bastart,” he cried. “Ah was just trying tae be supportive and yer laughin’ at me-“

“I’m sorry, Soap,” Simon said, schooling his expression slightly, but Soap could still see mirth dancing in his eyes. It was a good look on him, and it was hard to hold onto his anger in the face of it. “I’m feeling very supported, thank you.”

Hard, but not impossible. Soap glared at him through narrowed eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If yer gonna mock me, I’ll take the box back, ye bampot,” he muttered, but Simon pulled the box closer to his chest, protective of its contents.

“It was a gift, Sergeant,” he said, shaking his head. “No take-backs.”

“What are ye, five?”

“Thirty-five,” Simon corrected, a glimmer of mischief in his smile. “And not trans, either. Though I’m sure every trans person is very appreciative of your wholehearted support.”

“Fuck ye,” Soap said without heat. The tension drained out of his shoulders and he slumped slightly where he stood in the middle of Simon’s room. “What’s the app for, then?”

“It’s to keep track of the side effects of my medications,” Simon shrugged, putting the box on his desk and stepping back over to his bed, but not before Soap noticed him pocketing the chocolate. “My psychiatrist recommended it. Works well, even if it gets confused that I never actually have a period. Good for keeping track of trends, though.”

And that… Made sense, all things considered. He knew that Simon took a small handful of pills everyday when they were on base, medications to help with his anxiety and other PTSD-related symptoms, but he’d never thought about the side effects that they might have. His confusion must have shown because—in a jarring moment of deja vu—he abruptly had a phone being shoved, albeit more gently than his sister had, in his face. He immediately recognized the app’s calendar, tracking various symptoms in colored tabs on each day. Most of them were orange, having to do with mood or sleep or energy levels, but some were blue or green, and he wasn’t sure what those were for. None of them, notably, were red.

“Oh,” he said dumbly, a little shocked at how forthcoming Simon was being about all of this. “Ah guess… Ah can take the stuff back then.”

“Don’t you dare,” Simon said quickly, a little teasingly. He put his phone back in his pocket and stepped unsubtly between Soap and his desk. “When your sergeant shows up at your door with chocolate and pain killers, he’s not allowed to leave with them, too.”

“Surely ye don’t need the pads, though, LT,” he said, cheeks heating with embarrassment again.

“I’m sure they’ll come in handy the next time you get shot in the field,” Simon smirked, dodging Soap’s badly-aimed smack with a chuckle.

“Ahm sorry,” Soap said quietly, not letting himself get swept up in Simon’s good mood. “Ah didnae mean tae assume-“

“Johnny,” Simon said quietly, suddenly in his space, his bare hand rising to tilt Soap’s chin up, forcing him to meet Simon’s eyes. They were soft and genuine where they bore into Soap’s, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat. “Thank you. You were wrong, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Yeah?” Soap said, embarrassingly breathless. When Simon nodded, he risked placing his hands on Simon’s hips, heat searing through the black fabric of his shirt.

“You noticed what no one else did and tried to be supportive the only way you knew how,” Simon continued, gaze still pining Soap in place, and Soap really needed him to step back or else he’d be very aware of exactly what effect his voice had on Soap.

“I always will, sir,” Soap breathed, and then abruptly stopped breathing at the darkened look in Simon’s eyes.

“You always take care of me, Johnny,” he rumbled, and the dam broke. Within a heartbeat, their lips met, a slick slide of teeth and tongues and pent-up desire, their hands sweeping across each other’s bodies, touching everything in reach. Soap felt one hand tangle at the base of his mohawk, the other splayed across his lower back, a radiating heat diffusing across his skin. His own hands were clenched in the back of Simon’s shirt, holding him as close as possible as he pushed himself up and forward, as far into Simon as he could get with layers of clothes and skin and muscle between them.

After an indeterminate amount of time—Soap couldn’t have guessed minutes or hours for all the money in the world—Simon gently broke them apart with a palm on his cheek, his hand so big that it covered the entire side of Soap’s face, and the thought made him whine even as he let himself be pushed away. They didn’t go far; Simon pressed his forehead against Soap’s, both of them gasping each other’s air as they caught their breath.

“Fuck, sir,” Soap panted, eyes pressed shut as he struggled to process what had just happened.

“Want to find out what exactly you were wrong about, Johnny?” Simon asked. Soap looked up at him, eyes flying open in confusion, then glanced down when Simon tilted his head with a smug smile. In the scant space between them, he could see the clear tent in Simon’s pants, and he couldn’t have stopped the moan that ripped out of his throat if he’d tried.

“Fuck, sir,” he repeated, looking up again, his eyes dancing with excited lust.

“I was hoping to,” Simon replied, and his laughter echoed around the room as Soap shoved him down onto the bed, his grip on his sergeant pulling them flush.

Later, as Soap laid on Simon’s bed, sprawled and strung out, the scent of sex heavy in the air, his limbs even heavier, he couldn’t help but to be glad, for the first time in his life, that he’d been wrong.

Read it on ao3 here!

[nopanamaman]

I'm reposting the following from Twitter, but it holds equally true for all the feedback I've received on here in tags, messages, and reblogs. The responses to my video post and checking the #pafl tag have both been extremely rewarding and brought a huge smile to my face:)

Anyways,

Thank you all so much for the amazing support on 100 epitaphs!

I'm extremely grateful to everyone who shared their thoughts on the video in comments or messages, and I wish I could respond to each and every one.

Your kind words make all the work worth it and are the best motivation for me to try and make each episode better than the last.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

[twintraps]

i hate you

[blighted-elf]

Warhammer 40000: Rogue Trader - Epitaph To Walk Bravely First into Darkness

[kagamiwalker13]

AN EPITAPH FOR BARBARA RADZIWILL (1983) dir. Janusz Majewsk

[matriphagia]

Wait lmao apparently 99% of the NSFW/porn subreddits got banned last night. I'm unaffected and I don't really care BUT I knowwwwwww my ex is probably throwing tantrums and screaming and puking over this.

[sapphicplurals]

We're sapphic plurals! Run by Starship Abyss, a polyplural praesigenic DID system, we hope to bring some light and positivity for plural people who fall under the sapphic umbrella.

Disclaimers:

Please don't involve us in any sort of discourse. We believe that people know themselves and their identities best, so don't involve us in any queer discourse/identity discourse. In addition, we are accepting of non-traumagenic systems, but do not want to participate in syscourse.

We are trans friendly/supportive/are trans ourselves.

Please don't involve us in any other discourse, such as shipcourse.

What this blog hopes to do:

Spread positivity!

Allow people to share their experiences via our askbox/submissions!

Provide support!

Who this blog is for:

Sapphic plurals

Sapphic singlets

Sapphic headmates who are the only headmate who are sapphic

Sapphic plurals who are all sapphic

Sapphic people who are sapphic only some of the time

Sapphic people who are sapphic all of the time

Aro sapphics

Ace sapphics

Apl sapphics

And on and on and on! The sapphic experience is much more varied and beautiful than portrayed, and if you are sapphic, you belong here

Extra stuff about us below the cut!

Call us Epitaph / Mantis / Jamie! Collectively it/its, voi/void, rot/rots, they/them (preference in that order, only use these if you don't know who is on bridge).

Here (x) is a link to our frequent crewmate list, or people you'll see more commonly on the blog.

We use a lot of spaceship analogies. "On bridge" refers to front, "crewmates" = headmates, and so on and so forth.

We're an adult bodily

We're all queer

We're all neurodivergent + mentally disabled

We are white + TME

We are all collectively on the aromantic spectrum, and might post about that occasionally

[starshipabyss]

Dear princess celestia stop forming Beryll s in our brain. XOXO me :) <3

[wikipediasunbear]

there's so much to learn about! i'm so excited to start doing research!

[schizoautisticisms]

Deleted our last three posts, we want to talk about it but don’t feel comfortable sharing anywhere rn. We thought we’d feel safer on this blog but we don’t

[wildsaltair]

always an unfortunate day when I’m so busy I can’t log on this blog and post 194957282 tags about how much I love Maximus. the world expects so much from me