#pride month femslash requests

[imakemywings]

For the femslash writing, a Meladriel would spark so much joy 💛

Alright, this will be the last fill for the month (and a day late whoopsie)

I think the power plays Galadriel pushes these two into make for such an interesting dynamic. This fulfills the "euphoria" square of FotF's Pride month bingo (I think).

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Pairing: Galadriel x Melian

Length: 3k

Summary: Galadriel is determined to show Melian she is capable of more than Melian believes. Melian wonders if her pupil grasps her lessons.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

The Patience of the Oak

The resistance of Melian’s mind was as the howling of the winds storming the Helcaraxë. Galadriel wobbled upon a hair’s breadth of solidity beneath her feet, as though she were up in the flexible treetops amid the crack of thunder, or balanced upon some high-flung crossbeam of a ship at sea. If she did not keep her balance, she would fall. If she did not keep her focus, she would be lost, swept out into the ether of those winds.

Still, she pushed forward.

That she could do so at all was a riot of triumph; half of her had expected to get nowhere at all, and while the force of Melian send her skidding backwards, it did not drive her out entirely.

In the physical world, she was only most distantly aware of her fingers clenched around the edge of the table, of her toes digging into the floor until the joints ached. There was no space in her consciousness for the physical now; there was only the vastness of Melian’s mind and the determination of Galadriel’s spirit to know it.

In her own strength, in her conviction, Galadriel had confidence; Melian believed her feebler and more delicate than she was in truth, but Galadriel could show her her error.

The wind blew harder, a silent roar in the blackness through which Galadriel could feel the shine of light from those things she wished to know, those repositories of Melian’s knowledge and power. She stretched herself out towards them, reaching, reaching, reaching, and with another extension of herself, tried to ward off that part of her mind so keen to liken this experience to the terror of a blizzard (She, unlike her sentimental siblings and cousins, would not fall prey to dwelling on the death of Elenwë, lost in just such a storm). The more she allowed those thoughts to enter her mind, the greater risk they would sink their roots in, reshaping this experience into that one, and Galadriel did not want the dual struggle of fighting to reach her goal and not to be overwhelmed by her own past.

There, just ahead of her, a softly glowing center of thought; Galadriel, so near to her goal, surged forward with renewed energy in spite of the flagging of her strength; she did not mean to take yet, only to touch, to show Melian she could—

      That’s enough, I think. Melian’s voice sounded faintly amused and not altogether unannoyed, as one whose pet is both bothersome yet entertaining. Like a flick of her fingers, Melian snapped Galadriel out of her mind, flinging her fully back into the physical realm, and Galadriel staggered away from the table, stumbling over her feet until she landed hard on her seat, sucking in air like a winded horse.

The smoothness of the wood on the table did not allow Galadriel to do much damage to her hands, but her fingers ached from gripping it, and deprived now of the ecstasy of struggle and success, the full measure of her exhaustion came upon her, and she slumped down to the floor, hair strewn about her, and slept.

***

In the garden, Melian waited. Galadriel had felt her call earlier in the day, but forced herself not to rush. With care she dressed and arranged her hair in a neutral style and sipped weak wine as she reassured herself no damage had been done. Standing now upon the threshold of the eastern Jewel Garden, characterized by riotous bursts of a rainbow of fruits and flowers, she smoothed her skirts and lived in the final moments before having to face up to the queen’s displeasure. In her mind, she rehearsed the many words she had prepared for this meeting, but when she came near and met Melian’s night-dark eyes, those thoughts ran wild and she fought desperately to rein them back in.

“So, my pupil—”

Galadriel did not mean to interrupt, but the amok words burst through her teeth before she could swallow them.

“You underestimate my strength!”

Melian fell silent, those dark eyes sweeping up and down from the thrust of Galadriel’s chin to where her toes dug into the grass. She set aside the pomegranate she had been picking over when Galadriel arrived (Melian did not need to eat, but playing with the food of the Elves seemed to entertain her; she would leave the seeds out for someone or something else to claim.) Galadriel held open the curtains of her mind, inviting Melian inward, to show how little she had to hide from her teacher.

Melian wore the form of the Elves, as was her pleasure, and on that day gleamed in carnation yellow, her sleek black hair drawn away from her face with crisp white deer-bone clasps, a gift of the king.

“It is a particular kind of pride, to receive a gift and demand only more,” the queen remarked, and Galadriel drew in a painfully sharp breath. Now in the moment, now with Melian’s low, musical voice picking apart the flaws in her, the shortcomings in her behavior, it seemed foolish to tell herself her tutelage with Melian was not potentially on the line. But she could not now contemplate being exiled from Melian’s presence, or she would falter.

“I respect the extent of my teacher’s knowledge,” said Galadriel, lowering her head. “Had I no curiosity in it, we would never have begun this. Is it not natural I should wish for more?”

“That for which you wish and that of which you are capable do not always resonate,” said Melian. “As we have discussed before.”

Galadriel looked up without thinking, to fix Melian with an expression of helpless desire.

“And still I protest,” she said, straining to keep her voice even. “I am capable of more than my teacher believes.”

“Young you are still, and—”

“I am not a child!” Galadriel insisted urgently. “Horrors have I seen as well, teacher, and much did I overcome to make it to your doorstep. I am strong enough for what you may impart!” When Melian did not immediately respond, Galadriel could not restrain herself from adding: “Much more do you show Lúthien. Is it because I am no daughter of yours that I am not worth  more?”

 “You are not like Lúthien,” said Melian. “She who bears my blood is no Elf, though she may in face and body resemble her father. She is unique, and better able to grasp my knowledge and my power.”

“You have not faith in me,” Galadriel concluded, casting her eyes down unto the ground in tense despair.

“Had I not faith in you, we would not stand here now,” said Melian, rising to her full and considerable height. Again, Galadriel lowered her head. “Still I once more counsel you to restraint. Lúthien, besides being my daughter, has many more years to her name than you. She has had more time to learn and to develop her patience. Yet as I have said, your potential is strong. But you will squander it and turn to cruder, lesser matters than you might if you do not exercise care.”

Melian drifted around her, pale feet sliding noiselessly through the grass, her fingers brushing over the boughs and flowers that surrounded them.

“I feel your hunger, daughter of Eärwen,” she murmured. “Never do I touch your mind but I feel it. Already you have shown greater restraint than others may have. Yet I would look for more.” Even behind her, out of sight, Galadriel could picture, could feel Melian so clearly it was as if she looked upon her. “Those most eager warrant the most caution.”

Galadriel held her tongue and remained still until Melian came back into her sight. The queen did not touch her; never had Galadriel seen her touch another but the king or the princess, and those rare times when she laid her hands on Galadriel for a lesson.

There was more that Melian could have said, that she must know, but she did not, and Galadriel was relieved.

“What is it you desire from me, child?” Melian asked, and Galadriel seemed to feel her words as much as hear them. Her eyes darted up to Melian’s oval-shaped face, divine in her beauty, distant even in her nearness. “My power? Or something more tangible?”

Galadriel’s legs felt weak. The beat of her blood was too loud in her ears.

“I…desire…whatever my teacher would give me,” she said, speaking with markedly slow deliberation.

“You ask for things you do not understand,” Melian said.

“I know my strength,” Galadriel insisted, meeting Melian’s gaze directly. Melian held it, tilting her head slightly, observing, observing. Then she turned away.

“Your inability to admit or recognize your limitations tells me I have been right to maintain the pace we are at,” said the queen, and Galadriel’s gut turned to ice. “You have not yet the maturity for more.” She made to walk away, and Galadriel should have been grateful that Melian was not going to punish her for the invasion of her mind—though she knew now she had gotten as far as she had only because it had amused Melian to see how far she could push against the queen’s half-hearted resistance—but all that consumed her mind was the intolerableness of Melian’s dismissal.

In desperation, she threw up her hands and a bubble of silence ensconced them both; within the bulb of Galadriel’s power the birds hung still in the air, the beetles froze midflight; the wind did not sway the leaves. Slowly, Melian turned back to her.

“I am more capable than you acknowledge,” Galadriel said, straining to speak with so much of her focused on maintaining her spell. “I am a princess of the Noldor, a Calaquendi of the Blessed Realm, a daughter of the houses of Finwë and of Olwë. I have gazed upon the light of the Trees and I have sat at the foot of Manwë and Elbereth Gilthoniel. I have crossed the Helcaraxë. I have fought the forces of Morgoth Bauglir. I am not a child, nor an ignorant. I am not careless, nor incapable.”

Melian made a turn of the extent of Galadriel’s spell while she sweated to keep it up. The queen touched the birds, the bugs where they dangled midair, aware or unaware of their imprisonment.

“Remarkable,” she said, and through the burning of Galadriel’s straining body, she almost smiled.

Melian waved her hand and Galadriel’s spell burst apart, returning the denizens of Doriath to their freedom. Galadriel panted and bent forward, her face hot with exertion.

“You would do better not to trap things so idly,” the queen remarked lightly. Her eyes flashed over to Galadriel’s face. “It has never been your power I doubted, my pupil.” Melian came to her then, and she smelled even at a distance of the onset of rain, so that to breath her in was as if to stand amidst a gathering storm.

Melian reached out, and with her fingertips, she touched Galadriel’s face, tilting it up towards her. A spidery hand crept over her cheek, her nose, her mouth.

“What a fascinating spirit yours is,” she murmured, and as nearly always, her expression was inscrutable. Galadriel did not dare reach out to Melian’s mind now, but she made a slight opening of her own. “Is this truly what you desire?”

“Yes,” Galadriel breathed. “Greatly have I desired this.” It was no good to lie to Melian now; even if she had kept her mind closed, it seemed she had made herself too plain. Lying to herself was a far simpler task than lying to Melian.

“Very well, then. Let us explore.” Melian leaned in, and Galadriel felt the prickle of electricity along her arms and down her back before Melian’s lips touched hers.

The wind was back, but this time it drew Galadriel in rather than pushed her out; she was wrapped up in the maelstrom, that electricity surging through her until her nerves were alight and her lungs breathless. The queen’s mouth was cool and wet against hers, and despite Galadriel’s height, she had to push up on her toes to seek a deeper kiss. All around her was the presence of Melian and that crisp-rain smell filled up her senses; she curled her hands at her sides to stop herself from grabbing at the queen for stability as the presence of Melian bore down on her.

And then she swooned.

***

When Galadriel opened her eyes, she saw the layered canopy of Doriath undulating in the wind above her, and amidst the green, Melian’s face, from below. Immediately she moved to sit up, but she felt drained, not unlike her weariness of the day before, and Melian placed a hand on her forehead to hold her in place.

“Take a moment, Arwen,” she said. She looked down, and smiled, and Galadriel stilled. “I did warn you.”

Galadriel’s eyes fluttered shut in chagrin, but only for a moment, as she did not wish to deprive herself much of the sight of Melian looking on her with such fondness.

“Elwë fainted in the beginning as well,” Melian reflected. “Before we had learned how to be with each other.” This made Galadriel only more determined to prove that she too, could learn to be with a Maia. She wondered how long it had taken Melian to learn to moderate her strength with an Elf. “Shall I take you back to your rooms?”

“No,” Galadriel managed. Her mind felt fuzzy as if from a long sleep, or too much wine. She could not tell if Melian was still in her thoughts or not. “I wish to…remain.”

Melian hummed an agreement and stroked a hand through Galadriel’s golden hair.

“But you should rest,” said the queen. “And do not rush.” Despite her will—or perhaps in service of another desire—Galadriel’s eyes slid shut and her mind focused the more on the touch of Melian’s hand.

“I am capable,” she insisted quietly. “I can learn whatever lessons you would teach me, Your Grace. I will make myself learn them.”

“This I know,” said Melian. “I would not have taken it upon myself to teach you if I did not believe in your abilities. Yet you are young—no child, by the measure of Elves, I know—but young still, and impatient. You would rush headlong from one thing to another without truly understanding either. And I would see you cultivated with more care. Do you not trust me as your teacher, Arwen?”

Now Galadriel needed to pause and consider, for Melian made valid argument: She believed in Galadriel’s ability to learn, and so had taken Galadriel as her student. But why had Galadriel taken Melian as her teacher if she did not believe in Melian’s ability to teach?

Ah, Melian called again on her pride—daring Galadriel to say she believed that she knew better than Melian the pace and scope by which her lessons ought to progress.

A part of her wished to groan; the better part was more concerned with the presence of her head in Melian’s lap, and the queen’s graceful hand on her head. She could almost forget she had come here for a scolding.

“I am tired,” she murmured. “I trust you, teacher.”

“After your expenditures the last forty-eight hours, I am not surprised,” Melian said, again sound amused in spite of Galadriel’s rather inappropriate behavior.

“I wish only that you should know I may understand you.” Melian hummed something neither fully agreement nor disagreement and stroked Galadriel’s hair again.

“In stillness, one may come to know the forest,” she remarked after a long silence. “But without patience and quietude, much will go unobserved and unknown. My lessons for you are not only in the realm of magic and of wills.”

If she were less worn out, Galadriel might have found it in herself to be embarrassed to realize Melian had been trying to temper her impatience from the start.

“Forgive me, teacher,” she said without opening her eyes. “There is much you know that I wish to know also.”

“And much you will know, in time,” Melian said. “A sapling cannot know the truths of the oak without the will of time.”

Now Galadriel made a soft noise not quite a groan and turned her face more to Melian’s lap, which she supposed was hardly more improper than her presence there already, which Melian had created herself.

“You need not drive yourself so hard,” Melian said gently, her nails scraping lightly over Galadriel’s scalp. “Forget not the value in rest, and slow progress. As long as I stand, you will be safe here. Accept this gift I give, and the time which it grants.” Galadriel relaxed her shoulders and breathed in the sharp rain-scent of Melian.

“Shall I sing to you, dear?” the queen asked.

Galadriel mumbled her agreement, and Melian smiled. Carding her fingers through Galadriel’s hair, she set to warbling a tune about the wind whistling through the treetops and a robin looking for shelter. In the clear ringing of Melian’s voice, Galadriel could understand how one might forsake Eldamar to linger a little while more in the reach of her song. It seemed to soothe away Galadriel’s fears and anxieties, and yet to open her to wonders of the world ‘til then unknown to her. While Melian’s voice washed over her, she seemed to sink into new communion with the woods around them, as if through Melian those other things reached out to her: the moles in their burrows and the squirrels in their trees and the moss creeping over the rocks and the worms tunneling underneath. Melian was a part of it, and it was a part of her, and she drew Galadriel into this world which she otherwise touched only through a veil.

Yet it did not alleviate her exhaustion, and to the sound of Melian’s singing, with the queen’s thigh beneath her head and her hand in her hair, Galadriel slept.

[arcandoria]

PRIDE MONTH - DAY 1: Judy Alvarez, Cyberpunk 2077

for @ronqueesha and @mistymymoon my kofi

[spellcasterlight]

Do you know any updated naruto event blogs? I want to participate in something, but i can’t find calendars and events or who’s hosting what.

Hi there Yummy Yellow-eyed Penguin Anon! 😊

You know me; I'm a sucker for an event! 😂

Okay, so I think @narutoandborutoevents is starting to collect a whole bunch of events in one place.

But I have also just made a list of events that I know off to help out. I've split the list into three categories:

Naruto only events, any fandom events & any fandom bingo cards (I like the bingo cards because there isn't a timeframe. You can just complete them in whatever time you need rather than the usual week, month etc. that other events have so they are very casual and unrushed.

I have also put ** beside events that are smut related in nature so you can avoid them if need be.

I'll put my list under the cut because of length.

Thanks for the ask, and happy writing! ✨

Ao3 ✨ |Story Request Bingo Cards 📖 | WIP Game Always Open ✒️| Hot Chocolate ☕

Naruto only events

@team-gai-week @naruto-smut-monday** @kakashi-week @narutoccw2022 @tentenappreciation @yamanaka-week @asuma-week @polyam-naruto @kisames-corner @shikasaku-week @kunoichi-central @narutosecretsanta @rock-lee-week @ino-week @kakashimultishipextravaganza @sasori-mini-bang @konoha-pride @naruinoweek @inoshikachoweek @narutodilfweek** @narutoocshipweek @narutoocevent @iruka-week @narutorarepairweek @multisasori @narutorarepairjune @harunosakuraweek

Any fandom events

@domaystic @agonyapril2022 @whumpers-monthly @summer-of-whump @polyshipweek @tat-monthly-challenge @kinkuary** @comfortember @flufftober @femslash-friday-prompts @whumptober2021 @flashfictionfriday @febwhump @tropetember @sicktember @augustwritingchallenge @femslashfeb

Any fandom bingo cards

@anyfandomdarkbingo @badbitchesbingo @taylorswiftbingo @anyfandomfluffbingo @anyfandomkinkbingo** @lgbtqbingo @anyfandomangstbingo @anyfandomgoesbingo @kinky-things-happen** @badthingshappenbingo

[purpleyin]

I don't think I wrote so much in 2021 but as usual I still managed a good amount of art.

I made: 176 moodboards, 57 banners, 42 icons, 1 fanvid, 3 fic/fanmix covers, 2 fanmixes and 2 other graphics. 82% fandom specific, 12% multifandom, and 6% non-fandom.

New fandoms I created graphics for this year: The Hunger Games, Back to the Future, The Haunting of Bly Manor, Grishaverse, Deadpool, Sanctuary, 13 Reasons Why, DCEU, Community, Smallville, Prodigal Son, Mass Effect, Dragon Age games, SCP Foundation, Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, Leverage, Masters of Sex.

Around 13% were Pride related. 9% were holidays/season related - mainly Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year’s and fall aesthetics, with a couple Halloween ones too.

15 WIP moodboards finished! 7% of graphics were made for a request and another 70% were made for events.

Out of the fandom content, rough stats are: 18% m/f ships,  6% m/m slash, 19% f/f slash, 10% polyam, and 47% gen.

Art resolutions for 2022:

Focus more on things made on a whim/no deadline/for me.

Don’t sign up for more than 3 wipbigbang art slots this year!

Make more banners, because I have lots of set ideas and plenty in progress it would be good to finish.

Finish more fanmixes as I have plenty in progress too.

Aim to post something for Femslash Friday every week, with more making ahead of time and scheduling because I definitely don’t have time every Friday. 

Set realistic goals for month long events like Femslash Feb, Multiamory March, Pride etc. My brain always says 1 per day would be great, but honestly it isn’t a good goal, it’s too much pressure even if it’s a stretch goal.

[sstwins]

Femslash Feb Day 2 - Pride - Courtly Jester/Apple White

back on my 200 word squeak

for some reason i stuggle writing things longer than that, though it’s easier when it’s in a scene

im hoping to get to some longer fics before the month is over!

This was an anon request!

Brief Summary: Courtly finds herself innately pulled to Apple White’s power.

Word Count: 262

I’m still accepting ships for femslash feb!!! Send me your fave fem pairs and I’ll write you a fic sometime this month!!

Courtly Jester had always imagined herself to be a ruler in her own right. First vice-principal of Wonderland High, then one day… Queen? One could only hope. Anything would be better than that worthless Lizzie Hearts being in charge. Unfortunately, all ambition came at a price. Wonderland didn’t like you to rise above your station. So she was banished to Ever After High, the playing ground for princesses. What place could a lowly jester have here, other than to do silly little tricks to keep them all amused. It was soul crushing.

But like it or not, Courtly did as she was told. She played along, went to her second-rate classes (though she did sneak into Princessology on the side). And there, she met someone who was altogether… different.

There was something almost charming about Apple White that Courtly had never expected to see in a future queen. She had a real hard edge, like she wasn’t afraid to be bad in the pursuit of her own power and future. It was captivating. Courtly found herself drawn into that thirst to have everything be just right. Apple didn’t want to be a queen just to be a queen. She wanted to rule. It was very different from Lizzie. And Courtly had to admit, there was some innate pull to pleasing a princess like that. It was only fair for a jester. So she’d swallow her pride and perform for Apple, in the hopes that one day the princess would take a liking to her. Then, who knows where their story might go?

[sweeterthankarma]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Carmilla (Web Series) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein Characters: Laura Hollis, Carmilla Karnstein Additional Tags: set sometime in season 2, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Teasing Series: Part 30 of Pride Month Prompts 2020 Summary:

Laura sucks in another breath and finds the strength to form a coherent sentence, gasping out, “how are you so charismatic even when you’re fucking my brains out?” “Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Carmilla replies, voice lilting up, tone thick and teasing. “I wasn’t sure.”

Happy Pride Month! I've reached the end of my first ever month-long fic challenge, where I wrote and posted LGBTQ+ fics for thirty days, all inspired by the prompts listed here. These fics were anywhere from 100-1,500 words, were for different fandoms, ships and characters, and all stand alone. This was indeed a challenge for me but it was a lot of fun and this certainly won't be my last fic challenge! I'll definitely do more in the future and if anyone has any requests for what they'd like to see me try (Femslash February, Kinktober, 30 days of a specific fandom, etc.), feel free to send them by way! Let me know in the comments what your favorite fic/ship out of this challenge was, and thanks to everyone who read every day!

Day 30 Prompt: Charismatic.

Title comes from the song "Lovesick" by Banks.

[quakeriders]

“I hope they look worse.” | malide

femslash february 2020 - drabble #01 - request more

Elide was sipping on her tea when she heard it. A scraping sound accompanied by a low groan. For a moment, a spike of fear went down her spine, but then the sound of keys being slid into the lock made her relax.

Only that the door didn’t open at once. No, instead Elide listened to the struggle for a few more moments before finally realizing what was going on and setting down her mug. With a heavy sigh she went to the door and opened it, already knowing what was awaiting her on the other side.

Sure enough, Manon Blackbeak was leaning against the doorframe, a set of keys dangling from her hands. The sight of her girlfriend wasn’t what surprised Elide, nor was it the split and bloody knuckles. No, it was the bruised eye, that would no doubt turn black and then blue in a few hours and cut above her cheekbone that made Elide’s heart stop and then restart at a faster pace.

“Again?” She asked, pursing her lips.

Manon gave her a crooked smile, shifting so that more of her weight was supported by the doorframe. And then, she said, “I wasn’t the one who started it.”

Shaking her head, Elide reached for her, wrapping an arm around Manon’s waist. “One of these days I’m just going to let you sleep outside.”

A slight huff of amusement was the only answer she got.

It didn’t take long for Elide to get Manon seated at the kitchen table and spread their first aid kit out before them. Manon didn’t get into fights often - well, she did, but she usually didn’t get out of one looking this bad - but Elide had learned to patch her up quite well over the past few months.

She cleaned the cuts on Manon’s face with antiseptic, grimacing as her reckless girlfriend hissed in pain. Good, maybe that would teach her a lesson.

Elide avoided looking into her eyes, trying to sound cold and disapproving. “Where else are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. It’s just the face that’s bruised.” Manon replied, making to wave her hand dismissively but cringing at the sight of her split knuckles. Their eyes met, dark brown and golden. A spark of anger coursed through Elide at the sight of the pain dimmed eyes. “And my pride.”

“How about the other person?” Elide asked, voice getting rough. “I hope they look worse.”

“You know he does, babe.”

Manon’s grin was infectious. Elide couldn’t help it. Even as she wanted to chide her for being reckless and getting herself injured, a spark of pride flared in her chest.

“Good.” She muttered, smiling back and finishing up with her cheek.

Before she went on to fix up her knuckles, Elide leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Manon’s cheek. Then, because her girlfriend was a badass who won every fight she got into, she pressed another one to her lips.

She meant for it to be a short peck on the lips, but as soon as their lips met, Elide was hooked. She moved her lips slowly against Manon’s, relishing in the feel and smell of it. She would never get tired of kissing her, it always felt like coming home, like finding a shelter in a storm.

Manon groaned, the sound coming from low in her throat and Elide felt an arm wrap around her back, pulling her closer. Their tongues met and Elide wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to stop kissing Manon, but then she felt fingers tighten at the nape of her neck. Then, Manon winced in pain. It was an unfortunate reminder of the split knuckles.

“Next time,” Elide said after breaking away from the kiss, still breathless, but eyes once again hard. She watched as Manon licked her lips. “you take me with you.”

“I will.” Her girlfriend replied, grinning.

--

(no) taglist send me an ask if you wanna be tagged in the upcoming drabbles.

[theclaravoyant]

pride month edit suggestions

i had a lot of fun doing my femslash feb edit-a-day series but i did fall a bit behind for a while there so i’m getting the ball rolling on pride month early... and since the ladies had their turn i’m going to be focusing on canon lgbtq+ male and nonbinary characters. i am currently taking suggestions/requests!

but please note: - characters from shows/movies/media i am familiar with will be prioritised, but there’s no rule against suggesting ones i’m not/might not be familiar with! - human characters will be prioritised, but there’s no rule against others either - depending on the number and variety of characters i end up with on the list, multiple characters from the same franchise may or may not make the list

so, if you have any ideas send them my way! current list includes but is not limited to: dean craig pelton (community), syd (one day at a time), captain raymond holt (brooklyn 99)

[teentitansseasonfive]

Hi everyone! Though this year isn’t quite over yet, I’ve already started planning for events (of sorts) I’d like to do on this blog for next year.

The schedule listed under the cut is tentative, so if you all have any major concerns about the timing of certain events, let me know and I can try and shuffle things around.

2021 (Tentative) Schedule:

January - Nothing planned. Will open up requests for Femslash February/Slash March drawings.

February - Femslash (F/F) February. Up to 28 different Honorary Titan-based F/F ship drawings (drawn by myself) will be posted throughout the month.. I won’t be following the offical Femslash February prompts, though. 

Like mentioned, requests for this will be open in January. I will also reblog any Honorary Titan-based F/F ship art created during this month directly to the blog instead of adding it to the queue, so if you all are participating in Femslash February and want to tag me in your Honorary Titan-based art/send it to me in a message feel free to do so.

March - Nothing planned. Will post the voting form for Honorary Titan Appreciation Week 2021 during this month.

April - Nothing planned. Will post the offical prompt list for Honorary Titan Appreciation Week 2021 early in the month.

May - Honorary Titan Appreciation Week 2021. The offical date will be announced after it gets voted on in March, but it will be in one of the last 3 weeks of May for sure.

June - Pride month celebration? Ideally I’d like to do something for Pride month in June like I did in 2019, but I don’t know exactly what I’d like to do yet. Suggestions welcome.

July - Nothing planned. 

August - Nothing planned. 

September - Nothing planned. Will post the prompt list for Honoraryween early in the month.

October - Honoraryween. Essentially, Honoraryween is one of those October art challenges, but centered around the Honorary Titans and that I’ve made my own prompt list for. A different Honorary Titan-based drawing based on the day’s prompt (drawn by myself) would be posted each day throughout the month.

Like mentioned, I will be posting the prompt list in September, so you all are welcome to participate as well if you wish. If you do, make sure to tag me in your art/send it to me in a message to make sure I see it.

The sign-ups for the Honorary Titan Gift Exchange 2021 will also go out early in the month.

November - Nothing planned. Preparation for the Honorary Titan Gift Exchange 2021.

December - Honorary Titan Gift Exchange 2021.

[ft-dads-au]

Come Into Bloom

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Flower Shop Pairing: Erza x Mirajane A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net September 25, 2021

“It’s getting pretty crowded out there,” Sherry commented to Erza as she looked out the shop window.

“Hopefully, that will be good for us,” Erza mumbled as she worked on another corsage, this one a pretty combination of lavender and pink flowers.

They were right in the middle of Fantasia, the biggest flower holiday of the year. Unlike Valentine’s Day, which was mostly targeted at lovers, Fantasia was meant for everyone. It was just as likely for a father to give a token to his children, as to his partner, or even his own parents.

Erza had already made Natsu's order that morning, a beautiful flower crown for Hana, as well as a large bouquet for Gray. Atlas, Aki and the twins were getting some flower-shaped cookies that Mira and Elfman had baked and decorated for the boys the previous night as they were a little too young to appreciate flowers.

“Isn’t it about time for Mira to get here?” Sherry asked her employer, smiling as Erza’s hands immediately went to her hair.

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Erza looked back down at her work table not wanting to give away her agitation.

“It’s so nice that you two make a habit of having lunch together every Saturday,” Sherry enthused, with hearts in her eyes. “Are you getting her something for Fantasia?”

“I uhm, hadn’t thought about it,” Erza lied, not wanting to admit that she had spent hours trying to devise the perfect bouquet of flowers. One that would let Mira know once and for all how she felt about her, but with all the orders she needed to fill plus walk-ins, there had been no time. It was only her and Sherry, and she couldn’t afford to hire more employees.

She’d started working at Rose of Yūen during her college days, and once she’d graduated, she’d bought it from the elderly couple who had owned it. It was her pride and joy, but it also took up a lot of her time, the rest of which was usually claimed by her brother and niece and nephew.

Which is how she had ended up pining for the same woman for years and finding multiple excuses to do nothing about it.

The tinkling of the shop’s door alerted them to a visitor, and Sherry went to help their customer, knowing that Erza was about to go on her lunch break. Erza smiled, remembering the special order she had hidden in her office cooler. Ren Akatsuki, Sherry’s husband, would be by to pick it up as soon as Sherry went on her own break.

That was one of the things she loved about having the shop. Most of the time, she got to see the best in people. The shy teenage boy anxiously looking for a corsage for his first date, the elderly couples that were still madly in love with each other even after a lifetime together and everything in between.

There was Rogue Eucliffe who special ordered flowers from Edolas, to give his husband a taste of his home country. And Alzack Connell, who bought flowers for both his wife and daughter at least once a month and would probably stop in today.

Even couples who were rekindling a love thought lost long ago. Silver Fullbuster and Gildarts Clive were probably some of her favorite customers, always coming in full of boisterous insults towards the other, yet the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

In fact, it seemed like everyone around her was either in love or starting a relationship. Even her brother, who had unexpectedly become a widower last year, had already found someone. While Erza remained forever alone.

She was done with that though, after spending the last eight years building up her business and helping Natsu get back on his feet, it was time to do something for herself. To stop pining for her best friend and try her own hand at love. If she didn’t do something soon someone was likely to whisk Mira off her feet, and she’d have no one to blame but herself.

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that Erza felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mira smiling at her, “You always get so lost in your flowers. I’m gonna go set these up in your office, okay?”

Mira moved towards the office without waiting for Erza's approval, a bag of food from Fairy Tail in each hand. When she noticed Erza wasn’t following, she called behind her, “Hurry up, I brought you a surprise, but if you make me wait too long, I’ll eat it myself!”

Erza put her tools down and scrambled, knowing there was a good chance the surprise was strawberry cake, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

Her office wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for her desk and chair, a watercooler and a small round table with two plastic chairs. Mira had already set out the food, rolling her eyes when Erza’s eyes were already on the two slices of cake that were visible inside a clear plastic container. “How you don’t weigh 300 pounds, I’ll never know,” Mira giggled.

Erza ignored the comment, digging into the chicken pot pie Mira had brought. “Mhmm, this is really good!” she complimented, closing her eyes to savor all the different flavors.

“Yeah, I remembered it was your favorite. I changed the recipe up a little, made it lighter, and the crust a little flakier.”

“Whatever you did, it’s amazing!”

“You really are as bad as Natsu, just as messy too,” Mira laughed fondly, grabbing a napkin from the bag and handing it to Erza, who had sauce dripping down her chin, before taking a bite from her own dish.

“Have you been very busy today with Fantasia?” Mira asked curiously.

“Yeah, a lot of walk-ins, lots of special requests too,” Erza replied, continuing to eat, “What about you guys?”

“It’s still a little early for the drinking crowd, but the restaurant was pretty busy, they had Natsu subbing in for a waiter that called in sick, at least until the bar needs him back. That was uhm, interesting,” Mira’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Good thing he’s an excellent bartender.”

She leaned forward in her chair, curious as always, “What kinds of special requests?”

“Well, different flowers can mean different things, it’s almost like a language all its own. Like those flowers that Rogue gets for Sting? Those mean everlasting love.”

“Why am I not surprised? Those two are sickening,” Mira snorted, “Is there one that means I really kind of just like you as a friend?”

“Well, there’s yellow roses, they’re not associated with romance. Oh, and alstroemeria,” Erza recited, clarifying when she saw Mira’s blank expression,” It’s a type of lily.”

She got up and opened one of her desk drawers, grabbing a book and bringing it back to the table. She looked through it until she found a picture of the flower she had mentioned and showed it to Mira.

It was a beautiful flower that came in a variety of bright colors, with center petals that had contrasting stripes. Mira studied the picture, and it’s given description curiously, but her attention was soon drawn by other flowers on the page.

"Wow, I never knew that there was so much symbolism behind flowers," she mused as she turned the page, "It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought.” She looked up at Erza, a devious smirk on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that Erza found really adorable, but also a tad bit troubling. “Hey, are there any flowers that have an offensive meaning?”

Erza snorted, immediately thinking about the first time Gildarts had come to her shop with a similar question, “Look up yellow carnations.”

“Disappointment and rejection? Ouch!” Mira giggled, and the sound translated into butterflies in Erza’s stomach. “So, do you know all of these by heart?”

“I know most of them, but there are so many variations, and each color often has its own meaning-”

Before Erza had the chance to get lost in the passion she had for her job, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Erza, I’m sorry to disrupt your lunch, but do you think you could come out here for a few minutes? There are several customers and another special order,” Sherry looked apologetic.

While slightly disappointed, Erza didn’t mind too much, she’d already known it was probably going to be a busy day.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to hurry,” Erza apologized to Mira, wiping her face with the napkin before getting up from the table and rushing out the door, a smile already on her face.

Mira continued eating, grabbing the book Erza had left on the table and flipping through its pages, the beginnings of an idea blooming in her mind.

Erza never returned to finish her lunch, and eventually, Mira had to go back to work, so she cleaned up, putting Erza’s food in her small fridge and leaving both pieces of cake for her to eat later.

Mira hurried to the door waving goodbye to both Sherry and Erza on her way out.

0-0

It had been a long day, both Erza and Sherry had been going nonstop, although Erza insisted Sherry take her break if only so she could get Ren his flowers.

They had sold out of everything in the refrigerators and had to scramble to replenish them. Erza felt like she had seen just about everyone in town. Loke came in to get corsages and flower crowns for his daughters, and a small bouquet for Lucy.

Silver and Gildarts had come in with Rogue and the kids, along with an order from Gray for Natsu. Lyon had surprised both her and Sherry by coming in to get something for Chelia. That had probably been her favorite moment of the day, watching the usually stoic Lyon acting nervous and awkward as he tried to find something special for the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

Almost as lovely as watching Sherry help him pick something Chelia would like. Alzack, Macao, Warren, Cana, Juvia, the list went on and on. About the only person she hadn’t seen was Sting.

Almost as if on cue, Sting raced in, hair disheveled, breathing in gasps and eyeing her worriedly, “Am I too late?”

“You’re fine,” Erza assured him, “We don’t close for another hour.”

“Oh, good. Rogue has the car, and I had to run here from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Erza’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re an idiot, you should have taken a taxi or something.”

“No, there’s a ton of traffic, they’re starting to close off the streets for tonight’s events.”

“I see,” She went into her office returning with a folding chair and a cup of water. ”Sit.”

“Now, what nauseatingly romantic thing are you wanting this time?” she teased.

“Well, Rogue’s playing his first gig tonight since forever,” Sting’s eyes blazed with pride, “So here’s what I was thinking.”

And as he began telling her what he wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. They chatted as she worked on Rogue’s flowers, and when the phone rang, Sherry answered it.

“Alright, I’ll give her your order, thanks!” Sherry spoke into the phone, “What’s that? Oh, yeah, got it! Don’t forget Hana’s flower crown, okay. No, he already paid for that as well as Gray’s arrangement. Thanks, Mira!”

“What do you think?” Erza showed Sting her finished arrangement, and his wide grin made her smile wistfully. She handed the flowers over and reminded Sherry to give him the frequent customer/family discount.

“Are you going to meet with us later?” Sting peered at her from behind the enormous bouquet, which Erza already knew Rogue was going to have a hard time moving around with. Hopefully, they’d thought to bring the stroller.

“I’m not sure yet, I have to go to Fairy Tail to drop off Natsu’s stuff, I’ll decide then.”

“Does that mean you’ll decide when you know whether Mira is going?” Sting regarded her with a knowing grin. “Seriously, Erza, are you ever going to do something? Your brother has discovered a whole new sexuality in the time it’s taken you to make a move.”

“Go away, Sting,” Erza muttered in annoyance but mostly because she knew he was right.

“Well, I hope you come,” Sting entreated, “it will be fun to have everyone together.” He struggled to balance the flowers in one arm as he paid for them and then left, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall because of the obstructed view.

Erza shook her head as she watched him leave, reminded of how similar he sometimes was to her brother. Filled with enthusiasm and energy, a bit silly, but with a good heart. They were also amazingly devoted partners, which was reflected in their grand romantic gestures.

How she’d wanted to do something special for Mira, she thought sadly. Maybe there was still time! But before she could give it any real thought, Sherry had given her the order she’d taken over the phone. It was for Mirajane Strauss.

Erza read the names of the flowers listed on the order again: red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. She scrunched up her face in distaste at the combination.

“You’re sure these are the flowers she wanted?” she challenged.

“Yep, she was especially adamant about the red tulips,” Sherry informed her.

Red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. Four species of flowers that looked so vastly different from each other that Erza wasn’t even sure she could combine them into an arrangement that would actually be aesthetically pleasing. But it was for Mira, so she was going to give it her absolute best.

It was for Mira.

Wait a second… Erza listed the order in her head once again with growing anxiety. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Mira had requested these flowers after she’d been looking in that book Erza had shown her during lunch break. They all referred to deep love, affection, and attraction. It was a love confession hastily pieced together in flower meanings.

Shit! Erza’s heart pounded in her chest, the fear that she might have waited too long making her feel light-headed. Who were these flowers for? Erza wracked her brain to think of anyone Mira might have mentioned recently. Mira worked at Fairy Tail, she got hit on constantly, but she usually just laughed it off.

They’d both dated people casually over the years, but it never lasted long, and they always returned to their comfortable camaraderie, laughing at how there was no one out there for them. Although in Erza’s case, what she really meant was there’s no one out there for me but you.

She reviewed the meanings in her head.

Red tulips - a declaration of love, perfect love

Red roses - the most classic of all expressions of love, a child could tell you what it meant.

Gardenias- a symbol of purity and sweetness

Amaryllis - splendid beauty

Every one of these flowers was like a stab to her heart.

“Did uhm, did she say she was picking these up herself?”

“No, she asked that you bring it to Fairy Tail along with Natsu’s stuff,” Sherry answered moving towards the back of the shop, where they kept overstock and orders they didn’t want to be mixed in with sale items, “I’m going to get his things from the back now.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” Erza muttered, gripping the edges of the table tightly.

“Are you okay?” Sherry hovered over her in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Erza smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No!” Erza replied quickly, “It’s for Mira, I should be the one to do it.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced by her assurances, but she went into Erza’s office, returning with a glass of water and the box containing the cakes Mira had left for her. “Here, eat something, you never even finished your lunch. I’ll go pick the flowers, and you can arrange them, alright?”

Erza nodded gratefully, sitting down on the chair she had brought out for Sting. She opened the container, eating her cake but for once, finding no joy in it. She still managed to eat both pieces by the time Sherry came back, arms laden with the requested flowers.

“I’m going to lock the door. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave,” Sherry called over her shoulder.

Erza didn’t answer, already busy with the flowers on her work table. Well, there was nothing she could do; if Mira had given her heart to another, then she would just have to accept it. Mira deserved all the happiness in the world. They would still be friends and aunts to Natsu’s children.

She would make Mira the most beautiful bouquet that could possibly be made with these flowers, and she would even add her own well wishes to it.

“Sherry? Can you get me some red peonies, please?”

“Just a minute, I’m getting Natsu’s order.”

Erza arranged and rearranged, not satisfied with her efforts. She jumped when Sherry arrived with the flowers she’s asked for.

“More red?” Sherry wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Are you sure that’s what you want? That bouquet does not exactly scream love.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” Erza disagreed, showing her the piece of paper that she’d scribbled the order on. “The red peonies are to wish her luck.”

“Oh! Oh,” Sherry frowned, realizing what Erza was saying. She was about to say something else when there was a tapping on the door. A quick peek showed Ren and Chelia waiting for her outside.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sherry asked in a soft voice, “I can ask them to come back later.”

“Nonsense, go have fun with your family, I’ll see you on Monday!”

Sherry didn’t look convinced, but she gave Erza a hug, letting herself out and locking the door from the outside.

With no one left to act tough for, Erza let her tears flow as she continued to work, arranging and rearranging once again until she was satisfied.

0-0

Mira stood next to Natsu, both trying to stay on top of all the customers that had flooded the bar. She was growing increasingly nervous the closer it got to the end of her shift, knowing Erza would show up any minute. She’d bungled up more orders than she could count, having to resort to shameless flirting to keep from getting in trouble. Noticing her state, Natsu took pity on her, asking her to prep fruit for him while he handled the drink orders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her with one of his smiles, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on to a customer that was calling for his attention.

For most people, being handed a knife while they were in turmoil was a terrible idea, but for Mira, who had a knife in hand as often as not, it was fine. The repetitive action of cutting the lemons, limes, and oranges needed for drink garnishes was relaxing.

When she’d arrived back at work from her interrupted lunch with Erza, she had been excited about her idea. She’d written down the names of a bunch of flowers and their meanings, trying to construct a love confession in a language Erza would be sure to understand.

A few hours later, she had been wavering, scared that maybe she’d been reading the signals wrong all these years. If she went through with her plan, she would only be exposing herself to heartbreak and ruining the beautiful friendship she and Erza had worked so hard to sustain over the years.

There had always been so many reasons for Mira not to start anything. At first, it had been because they hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. Then, when that had changed, it was because she was trying to sort out the mess Elfman had gotten himself into, especially after it had caused Lisanna to run away in fear. To Edolas, where she was followed by Natsu, and about two years later, they got married.

It had felt awkward to ask Erza out once they were linked by family, so Mira had dated others instead, trying to distance herself from the love and attraction she felt for Erza. None of them had worked out. Her heart just hadn’t been in them, and when the years hadn’t worn down her feelings one bit, she’d begun to think maybe it was time to take a chance.

But then Lisanna had died, and Mira had been grieving and trying to be there for Natsu, who was clearly falling apart. It was a new excuse but one that felt valid. After all, if she acted now and things didn’t work out between them, it would affect Hana and Atlas, which wasn’t fair to them. The last thing they needed was for their aunts, who each fulfilled a part of a female role model they missed so deeply, to be the cause of uncomfortable tensions.

Sharing babysitting duties with Erza and helping raise the kids had been fun, bringing them even closer together, but also filling Mira’s head with visions of what it might be like if the kids they were taking care of were theirs instead.

But it had been watching Natsu find love again with Gray that had truly sparked her to want to make her own move. If Gray, who had just come out of what was arguably the worst relationship ever, was willing to take a chance on a Dragneel, then why not her? And if Natsu, whose whole life had been turned upside down when he lost his wife granted himself another shot at love, then why shouldn’t she?

It felt right. Maybe that was just Mira's inner hopeless romantic speaking, but it spoke loud and clear, and she was done ignoring it. Besides, they had both turned thirty that year. Not that Mira felt old or anything, but she sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger either. She’d been looking forward to starting a family of her own for so long now. All she needed was someone amazing to start it with.

And Erza was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, and kind, and she had this awkward vulnerability that was incredibly endearing. Which was not to say that Mira wasn’t aware of her faults, like her stubbornness, and her fiery temper.

Mira knew that Erza wasn’t perfect, she was just perfect for her.

It had been Natsu who had encouraged her to make the call, telling her she would never know if she didn’t try, and Fantasia was a perfect occasion. He’d looked over the flowers she had jotted down, making his own suggestions.

“Here, do these. There’s no way she could mistake it,” Natsu assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Because they all clash horribly in a mess of red that no sane person would ever like,” Natsu’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Mira stared at him in disbelief and then began to laugh, “Is that what you did with Gray?”

“No, we were just honest with each other, but you two suck at that so gaudy bouquet it is!”

Mira had swatted at him playfully, but she had to admit he was right, she and Erza never seemed to be able to tell each other how they felt about each other, always tiptoeing around anything that might upset the balance they had achieved.

So she had made the call, relieved to hear Sherry’s cheerful voice answer the phone and now there was nothing left to do except wait.

Mira had sliced enough fruit to keep the night shift bartenders going through their entire shift, and still, Erza hadn’t arrived. She could see Makarov and Porlyusica already waiting outside with Atlas, Hana, and Wendy. Had she been held up at the shop?

A few minutes later, there was an unmistakable flash of scarlet, and she could see Erza talking to her foster parents, arms full of packages, with both kids latching on to her excitedly.

“You ready to go?” Natsu asked, signaling the end of their shift.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Mira sighed, the natural confidence she usually exuded escaping her for once.

Natsu snickered and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as he weaved his way out of the crowded bar and to their waiting family. They were the last to arrive, and Mira was pleased to see that Gray had joined them, even if he was wearing a cap and large sunglasses. Elfman had made it too. Natsu let go of her hand, heading to Erza and asking for his purchases.

Once Erza had finished helping Natsu, she turned towards Mira. “I brought your order too, even added a touch of red peonies for luck,” she chirped with a fake cheerfulness that confused Mira, as she accepted the bouquet she had ordered.

She examined the flowers in her hand and immediately saw what Natsu had meant. As much as Erza had obviously tried to make the flowers she had requested look as appealing as possible, it was a cacophony of contrasting reds, loud and garish. Those flowers had no business being together. And apparently, Erza had felt the need to add her own touch to the mix, yet another red flower.

What the heck? Red peonies for luck? What did she need luck for?

Erza refused to meet her eyes, and if it hadn’t been for that odd phrase, Mira would have expected some yellow carnations in her future. When she looked at her more closely, Mira saw that Erza’s eyes were puffy as if she’d been crying recently.

Did something happen?

“Luck?” Mira blinked owlishly, trying to understand what was going through Erza’s mind.

“Yes, for you. So that you get the answer you want from whoever you give those to,” Erza managed an awkward smile that tore at Mira’s heart as she finally put two and two together.

“Whoever I give them to?” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The hilarity of the situation too much for her to handle. Here she’d thought she’d been as brazen as could be, and all she’d accomplished was to make Erza think they were for someone else.

Erza didn’t seem to know how to react to Mira’s outburst. She peered at her before once again looking down.

“They’re for you, you dummy,” Mira wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in their group was staring at them with either curious eyes or knowing smiles.

“F-for me?” Erza stammered, her face turning as bright red as her hair once she realized her mistake. A tentative smile crossed her lips.

“Yes, for you,” Mira repeated, handing the bouquet over to Erza with a grin, waiting for her to say something.

“Did your added luck work in my favor?” Mira teased when Erza remained silent, although truth be told, she was starting to feel nervous.

Tears shimmered in Erza’s eyes as she nodded happily, taking out one last item from the bag she had brought from the store and handing it to Mira. It was the most beautiful bouquet Mira had ever seen, and she didn’t have to know anything about flowers to understand that Erza had poured all of herself into it.

They stared at each other, frozen in place by all the years they had spent hoping for this moment, imagining it in hundreds of different ways. Both desperate to take the next step but also terrified of what it would mean.

“Just kiss already,” Hana’s voice startled both of them out of their reverie, followed by the well-meaning laughs of their family and closest friends. She might have been only eight years old, but she’d managed to say what they had all been thinking.

So Erza and Mira did, neither one sure of who took the first step towards the other, or who’s lips pressed against who’s first. All they knew was that as awkward as the moment was, it was also perfect.

They were soon surrounded by the loud congratulations and, in some cases, happy tears of their family. Even though they were out in public, the promise of what was to come enough to make them both smile radiantly.

For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed the festivities with the others, walking hand in hand through the streets of Magnolia. They fed each other snacks from the many food carts that had gathered around the city center, watched Phantom Lord's live performance, slow dancing to some of their songs, and topping off the evening with soft kisses underneath the fireworks.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with more than they could’ve hoped for, but they both couldn't help but look forward to the moment when they were finally alone and could express their feelings more privately.

@femslashfairies​

[imakemywings]

Hello! For the femslash requests could I ask for Míriel/Indis in a Sleeping Beauty type situation? No problem if you're not feeling it or want to do something completely different with them. Love you and your fics!💚

I felt like this fairy tale actually works SO well with the canon story of Mirie!

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Pairing: Indis/Miriel, Finwe/Indis/Miriel (et al.)

Summary: Indis yearns to stir the sleeping queen of the Noldor.

This also fills the "First Kiss" and "Polyamory" squares of Fellowship of the Fics' Pride Month Bingo.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

To Call You Home

            Once upon a time, the queen of the Noldor pricked her finger on a spindle. Queen Míriel was a mighty weaver, such that she was called by the Noldor Serindë, the Broidress, for it was not merely in creation alone in which she reveled. The mind of Queen Míriel had devised many a new technique for the making of cloths more subtle and beautiful and durable than had been before, and so the Noldor took great pride in their clever queen.

            But as has been said, on a time she was sitting at her spindle, weaving thread for she desired it of a particular hue and strength for a project of her own and so she would not barter for it in town, and she pricked her finger.

            The queen had lately borne the only child of the royal family: little Finwë, called so after his father, and who was named by Queen Míriel Fëanor, “spirit of fire,” for even in infancy the strength of his mind and body was evident. In fact it was said that Míriel had given overmuch of her own strength into the child, so that she waned after his birth, and thus when she pricked her finger, she felt into a swoon as if dead.

            She was found on the floor by a maid, who rushed for the king with a wail, and he gathered her up straightaway and took her to their chambers, where he laid her abed and prayed to Ilúvatar for her recovery, thinking then that it was only a strange but temporary illness which had taken her. King Finwë gathered to her all the healers of Tirion, but none of them could summon the queen’s spirit back into her body. Similarly ineffective were the efforts of the healers of the Vanyar and of the Teleri.

            Sitting by her bedside, Finwë kissed her and begged for her return, but unavailing were his pleas, and the child wanted tending. Therefore at great length and with reluctance beyond measure, Finwë removed Queen Míriel up into a tower which overlooked the mountains around the city, where she laid undisturbed.

            Great reward, riches beyond measure, and unending gratitude did Finwë promise any who could come and rouse Míriel from her endless sleep. The Elves were ever curious of mind, and many came with notions and hypotheses about how to restore her, but none succeeded. As Fëanor grew, Míriel slept.

            Years on the king wore his braids still short in mourning, and at that time came to the Noldor royal palace Indis, a lady of the Vanyar who had made the Great Journey to Aman. She was a hobbyist academic of sorts, concerned with the potential for others to succumb to Míriel’s fate, and begged leave to study the queen’s condition that it might be ameliorated, or at least prevented in others. Initially reluctant, King Finwë permitted Indis to dwell in the palace, desiring that no others should experience his family’s tragedy.

Many months stayed she in Tirion, though she was unsuccessful in learning much of Míriel’s condition. But amid his grief Finwë heard the song of Indis, who had long loved him in silence from afar, and from sorrow his heart turned to her. Against the wishes of Prince Fëanor, by then more than half grown, and in light of the inability, it seemed, of any to stir Míriel, they were wed.

***

            Once upon a time, the queen of the Noldor fell in love. Long had Indis loved Finwë, seemingly to no purpose, but while her heart was so occupied, she would not take another. No desire had she to be seen taking advantage of the king’s mourning, yet when she heard the tale of Queen Míriel, called Serindë, her curiosity was powerfully awakened. She took to the study of medicinal arts, and attended to the tales of those who had sought to heal the Noldorin queen. When years had passed with no change, Indis could contain her curiosity no longer: she journeyed to Tirion to face Finwë and ask if she might study Míriel.

             The king was reluctant to allow anyone else to poke and prod at Míriel by the time Indis arrived, particularly one who made no claims to be able to heal her, but Indis’ care swayed him and he took her up to Míriel’s tower, where she observed the sleeping queen. Indis had seen the dead and dying, for there had been not a few on the journey to the Blessed Realm in which they dwelled, but Míriel seemed to her as one sleeping, waiting to be woken.

            Indis set with dedication to studying Míriel’s condition—examining the body, and the spindle at which she had first collapsed, and questioning the family and staff who answered with the rote dullness of those who had answered such questions many times—but no answers did she find.

            No solutions to Míriel’s condition did she discover—but something else, even less expected, did occur: Finwë grew to love her. More at ease did he become over Indis’ months, drawing slowly into years, of study, and they began to walk in the garden and speak of other things, and the shadow seemed to fade from his face. Indis was therefore filled with joy, if she yearned still for a way to cure Míriel, and when Finwë proposed the notion of their marriage to her, she gladly accepted.

            Long enough had she dwelled in the palace at Tirion that it was reassuringly familiar when she entered it for the first time as the queen of the Noldor. There were many who were relieved at this, for the uncertainty surrounding Míriel unsettled them, but there were plenty others who muttered in discontent about the impropriety, and Finwë’s son among them.

            Indis went on studying Míriel, though she had lost any faint hopes of curing her.

            The evidence of Míriel’s brilliance lay all about the palace, in her tapestries and clothes; in the tools of sewing and weaving that populated Noldorin tailor shops and dressmakers’ studios; and in the genius of her son, who was like his father in face but had entirely his mother’s spirit. Indis sought out the creations of Míriel, and observed them with awe, and the only polite conversations which Prince Fëanor would deign to have with her were to tell her of Míriel’s works.

            Indis was not a great artist, and her abilities lay more in the realm of arranging than of making. The rooms of the palace which had remained untouched since the seeming-death of Míriel she redecorated, and they were pleasing to the eye and to the mind. Even Míriel’s tapestries she removed to clean and store, and replaced them with others of Míriel’s prolific oeuvre.

            “Is it not pleasant, to see more of her works?” she asked her husband cheerfully when he observed with some unease this change. Nevertheless he agreed, and deferred to Indis’ choices.

            In simpler times, it had pleased Finwë to throw grand parties with much feasting and many guests, but it had been long since such merriment had filled the house. Now he began to fret that Fëanor had grown too long in a house gone quiet in mourning, and the happiness in which he dwelt with Indis rekindled in him the desire for festivities. So the king and queen together planned and hosted a particularly lavish party, the first occasion for many to meet their new queen in person.

            Indis had great delight in the event, for many of her friends arrived from Valmar, and many friends among the Noldor she met that night. Nevertheless, in her nerves over her potential reception by the Noldor, she imbibed quite a bit, and while Finwë was bidding a good night to the last of their guests, she stole up Míriel’s tower.

            There she sat on the floor beside Míriel’s bed and took her hand. So much of Indis’ time of the last several years had been devoted to studying this woman that it felt impossible for her not to consider Míriel also a part of the new family which Indis had chosen. Therefore, it seemed appropriate to share with Míriel the news of what had transpired, and once Indis began to talk with Míriel, she found she did not wish to stop. A part of her was convinced Míriel could hear her and that it would be unkind not to speak with her.

            Thus it came to pass that Indis began to regularly visit Míriel, not to any medical or scientific purpose, but merely to converse and to gaze upon her placid face and shapely hands. Indis began to feel that they knew one another, and in her heart she envisioned Míriel as a friend—or even a part of her marriage with Finwë (though this she seldom dared to even think to herself but to brush off as a fanciful jest). Convinced that others would not understand, Indis kept these meetings from the rest of the palace. But in her familiarity, Indis grew careless with her half-hearted secrecy, and this was how Finwë came upon her one day in Míriel’s tower, seated on the edge of the bed, stroking Míriel’s hair.

            Now Finwë was not given to quick anger nor to the bearing of grudges, but the thought of anyone disturbing Míriel’s body when she was so helpless put him at once in a wrath, and even as he opened his mouth to command Indis away from Míriel’s bed, she bent and pressed her mouth to Míriel’s in a tender kiss. There was a sigh, which Finwë and Indis both took to be Indis, until Míriel’s eyes opened.

***

            Once upon a time, two queens of the Noldor spoke, one to the other. For months Indis came to Míriel, and more vulnerable and open thoughts did she share each time. So often did she think of her confidante beyond the confines of Míriel’s tower that she felt she too, missed the company of this woman she had never known. The more she spoke, the more she anguished over Míriel’s inability to reply; she yearned to hear her voice, to know what Míriel would say to her, rather than merely to imagine.

            “Will you not speak to me, Míriel?” she murmured at the queen’s side, stroking her hair, a loose waterfall of silken silver. “Have I not proven my affections well enough?” She leaned down nearer to Míriel, until her breath whispered over the sleeper’s face. “Will you not grant me just a word? You know not what I would give for that.”

            And then she kissed her, and Míriel woke.

The tower of the queen was gripped in petrifying shock; Míriel gazed in some wonder up at Indis, while Indis and Finwë stared agape at Míriel, who seemed again in full possession of herself as she had not been for near two decades.

            “I have dreamed of you,” said Míriel to Indis. “Though I do not know your name.”

            “My name is Indis,” said she, “and you are Míriel, queen of the Noldor.”

            “Have I known you?” Míriel asked.

            “No,” said Indis. “We spoke not on the walk west; but I saw you with—” Here she blushed and looked askance and saw for the first time Finwë in the door, and there Míriel’s attention went as well. Silence drew out like a cord between she and he, taught and twisting, and then Míriel spoke.

            “I heard you,” she croaked to the man rooted to the floorboards. “You were calling to me.”

            “You did not answer,” said Finwë, and spoke as one feeling an old wound.

            “I…” Now Míriel avoided looking on his face. “I was weak,” she said at last. “I had no strength nor desire to speak.”

            Now they gazed those two on Indis, who burned under the attention.

            “It seemed I was in a fog,” said Míriel. Her delicate brow furrowed, and she struggled, and Indis helped her to sit upright. “There was not light nor sound to lead me from it. When at last I spoke it seemed that I called out to no avail, my words swallowed into the mist. I suppose you had lost hope for me then.” Finwë was stricken, but Míriel went on: “Perhaps this was reasonable. Still, then I dreamed of you,” she said to Indis. She blinked shrewd tawny brown eyes at Indis and asked: “How did you call me back?”

            “I…” Indis’ hands twisted anxiously in her lap, and she blushed, and wished not to be impertinent—but neither did she wish to lie. “With love, I think,” she said softly.

            Then Finwë looked on them with dawning comprehension and he said: “Not one voice, but two, to draw you home.” It seemed to him then that a greater power than chance had led Indis to his house.

            Míriel looked between them and said, her voice hoarse with disuse: “I recognize not this room. Where the devil am I?”

***

            Once upon a time, the throne room of the royal palace of the Noldor was short one chair. Two thrones wrought with all the artistry mustered by that people sat in the airy hall beneath crimson beams and curling rooves, imbued with gems and delicate metalwork décor, and yet these two were not enough.

            So for a time, one ruler of the Noldor was obliged to stand, while the other two set to a great deal of teasing about the immediate state of affairs. (It is said that they delayed in the commissioning of a new triad of thrones—merely to add one more would have thrown off the balance of the room, and so the whole situation necessitated reworking—out of amusement with the shortage, though no confirmation of this can exist.)

            It is hard to accurately convey the level of consternation among the general populace of Tirion as to what precisely their state of government was at this time. It had taken many years after the fainting of Míriel to accept that Finwë might remarry—and even then many had remained opposed, including Finwë’s own heir—and then several years more for the Noldor to become accustomed to Indis—to finally lose the confusion surrounding which individual was being referenced as “the queen”—so then to have both of them standing bright and shining in the place of the king and queen was jarring to say the least.

            The prevailing opinion of the city was that one queen must depart—one or the other would win out in the end. But these opinions were voiced by the ignorant who had not been in Míriel’s tower and knew nothing of the love that bonded the three rulers of Tirion.

            Neither queen departed, and the new thrones were built in time, and in the meanwhile Míriel often reclined out in the gardens, finding that after her long sleep she had more of a craving for treelight and a breeze on her face than ever she had had before. There with her often sat Indis, whose recited poems and sung hymns greatly pleased the Broidress, and if Indis had worried that Míriel would resent the one who had taken her place, those fears were washed away in Míriel’s gratitude for the one who had called her back from darkness, and touched something in Míriel’s heart with her words.

            Thus it was often that Indis would say, in the late hours of Telperion’s waxing, “Are you ready to sleep now?” and Míriel would reply, “Not now, I would have a little while longer.” And Indis would smile with tender delight, and they would stay awake until the fresh mingling of the Trees.

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

Since I’ve done stuff for the past two years for Pride Month, but am not this year, I’m just going to quietly shout out my old Tales of Arcadia Pride Month Ficlets series, which I did by request two years ago.  I also have copious amounts of femslash on my ao3 too

-someone who’d like to do something Big for Pride this year but legit just doesn’t have the energy :(

[yu-ri-oh]

SAVE THE DATE!

Mod Princess here! After a very busy month of May, I’ve finally gotten some free time. I figured since this blog hasn’t had any interactive events in a while, I’d celebrate by opening femslash graphic requests for the month of June! What better than to use both Pride Month and the month most popular for weddings as an excuse to make f/f content, after all?

From June 1-June 30, simply send @yu-ri-oh an ask detailing a graphic request (i e what kind of graphic you want, characters/ships, if you want it to be themed) and I will make it for you!

GUIDELINES:

While this event is Pride Month and June Bride themed, you can request whatever you want. The event themes are simply there as inspiration if you want to request but don’t know what you want.

I will do basically anything, from pride icons and bride edits to fake screenshots and blog headers! Examples of my graphic work can be seen on the blog itself in both desktop and mobile, but you can see further examples of what I can do here.

Please keep it on topic! Content related to LGBT+ women headcanons and/or F/F ships only. This is a femslash blog, after all. That being said, trans girl and nblw content regardless of how the character presents in canon is acceptable! 

If you want a ship with an underage character that involves an age gap bigger than 3 years, please keep the prompt something that can be interpreted as platonic. Further information on this topic and the blog’s stance on it can be found here.

As a general note: if you request a bride/wedding edit for a character/ship, I will more likely than not be using Aikatsu or THE iDOLM@STER as my bases for it because that is what I am most familiar with. If you would like a bride edit that uses a base from elsewhere, feel free to tell me in your request!

Above all else, have fun and happy shipping!

[huntypastellance]

The whole history of the VLD month discourse as explained by Lord Pastel Lance

(requested by a beloved disciple, We apologize for the lateness of this post)

Also, this has nothing to do with wlwvoltron, which is just an anti blog, not a ship month blog.

Right, so the entire VLD ship month discourse stemmed from one thing: the Studio Mir incident with Klance14.

Timeline of events:

> Klance14 happens

> Klancer antis create a blog to apologize to Studio Mir, named after Klance14.

> Klancer antis create the Klance Positivity Month (antis only) to boost the tarnished reputation of the Klancedom for June (nearly nobody joins & KPM is just blehhhh as a result).

> People get mad because KPM was created during Pride Month & because Klance was already the most popular ship in the fandom & didn’t need MORE positivity. Plus, there were already previous Klance events for it, which added up to about 2 months worth of Klance in total for 2017.

> Sheith fans create Sheith Month for August. People whine about it a little because ship events are usually a week long, not a month long. (It was created to celebrate the anniversary of Josh Keaton naming the ship & Chris Palmer drawing the “Shiro loves you, baby. He is looking at Keith” art, so at least the creation of it made SOME sense.)

> Antis get pissy over it & post the Sheith Month Calendar everywhere to make fun of it & deride it. They create vld-wlw-month to block it, claiming that they created it solely to promote wlw*, despite one of the prompts being Broganes. That prompt was later changed because of anon complaints, with the mod insisting that she only added Broganes because a friend really liked it.

- That makes zero sense as a prompt, Broganes is extremely limiting & only refers to Shiro & Keith.

- If you wanted to write about wlw sisters, why didn’t you just make the prompt “Sisters” so that Lance & his siblings & the Holts could be included as well?

- That edit job you did on the calendar was so bad that you can still see where the B in Broganes was.

> Shaladins create a fully inclusive voltronwlwmonth so that people can draw genderbends, klancebians, wlw shaladins, wlw pallura, etc.

> The mod of vld-wlw-month slanders voltronwlwmonth & gets her anti friends to condemn it & make up lies about it, calling it a bad month run by a cis straight girl. (The mod of voltronwlwmonth is none of these.) voltronwlwmonth is spammed with anon hate as a result.

> Antis are mad that the mod of voltronwlwmonth doesn’t back down & delete, so they create mlm-month-of-voltron for September. Which is really REALLY fucking stupid because Slash month is basically EVERY month on this blue hellsite, that’s why Femslash Febuary exists.

*Reminder that these antis were the ones calling Bex, an out & open lesbian who plays a lesbian character on TV & supports the LGBTQ+ community, things like a “d-ke”, “hairy lesbian”, “snake” & “homophobic” after she called them out over the Klance14 incident, the “power bottom”** Shoe incident on Josh Keaton’s instagram & the jackass anon who demanded that she apologize & grovel to them after the guidebook’s official canon ages, AS DETERMINED BY THE WRITERS OF VLD & NOT A THIRD PARTY TOY FACTORY, came out (which made Sheith the only true adult x adult ship & Klance a minor x adult ship, but antis don’t care about that ofc).

^Seriously, just search the tags on tumblr, yourself. Just looking at all those posts makes Us physically ill.

**Not ONLY is this stupid, but it’s clear that these so-called wlw antis don’t know shit about how gay sex works. Only mlm can power bottom? Saying the phrase “power bottom” is fetishizing them? That’s like saying the word “bear” fetishizes mlm when it is an category that they themselves use with each other. A dude can power bottom in a relationship with a woman. A woman can power bottom with another woman, too. Pegging. Strap-ons. Double-ended dildos. 

It’s your own fault for desexualizing lgtbq+ relationships to just handholding & cheek kisses (& if the characters are gay women, ranting about how much they hate dick & love being gay). <- aka all the fanfic submissions for vld-wlw-month

Some of you people are ADULTS. And yet your lgtbq+ & STRAIGHT sex education is utterly abysmal. GOOGLE IS YOUR FRIEND. USE IT.

[s-asuke]

Naruto Femslash Week - Day 1 - Mythology

A/N - I decided that I will do 7×2 prompts - so yeah, a little bit of all. Please bear with my lateness since I am doing the SS month too xP The scales vere vibrant, leaving ethereal signs in their wake. Small, hideous puffs of air came out of Shikamaru's mouth. The God of Logic was dissatisfied at the state at the Mountain. As he smoked the sacred grass, and drank the blood, drank the wine, plum and pear and grape and rice mixed on the palate, equally rambunctious as his dissatisfacion was. He couldn't focus on thinking about the newest human riddles, and it was invigorating, really – the Goddess of Earth was once again in a fight with the Goddess of Beauty. "How troublesome... do I have to call upon the Ruler Of The Sky, Sun and Heaven? They could cause a few earthquakes again, and then Naruto would become a handful." Shikamaru was rather irritated at this point, the trembling of the Holy Mountain becoming harder and heavier. Ino and Sakura had to be kidding him, he shook his head, gathering the black hair in a high ponytail, not caring for the falling vases and ornaments that adorned the hallways of the lavish palace atop the Mountain, where Gods lived. "I AM TELLING YOU TO STOP WITH YOUR SACRIFICES! I WON'T ALLOW MY TEMPLES TO BE TORN DOWN SO YOURS COULD BE CREATED!" "OOH, LIKE I CARE, BILLBOARD BROW! YOUR STATUES ARE SO UGLY, HUMANS DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO CAPTURE THE REALITY OF YOUR BEAUTY!" "ARE YOU GODDAMN IMPLYING I'M PRETTY!" "NO!" The insults and bickering went from the blonde to the pinkette – orbitating around them like a forcefield. Shikamaru coughed, just to signal his presence – he was still thankful that they fought so human-like, shruddering at the thought of the last Apocalypse that went down when Chouji and Karui argued. "Hey, you two," he tries, gently, as if not to evoke further anger from two fuming goddesses – but no use. They still shout and spew and all that all at once. He is reminded of his own spouse when she is sexually frustrated – and then it clicks. As he exits the room, forgetting the case, he teleports up the stairs, when he finds the Goddess of Love with the ruler of Heaven, sitting on their thrones, probably contemplating about a human issue. It was peace these days – but humans were a little too much, even for him. "Hinata-sama! I have a request!" She turns around, black hair like having a bluish hue under the stars and the bare universe. Shikamaru nearly snorted at the amount the blonde God held for his wife (completely akin to what Ino would do for Sakura). Ino would worship Sakura as if she were her own Goddess. "What is it, Shikamaru?" "Hinata, I would need you to calm down Ino and Sakura, they are in love!" "Calm them down? Me? And Shikamaru, what do you mean, in love?" "I will tell you along the way! Forgive me for borrowing your wife, Naruto-sama!" No matter how much we say we aren't different than humans, we are still painfully similar. We are dense, we get angry, we argue, we fall in love... - "Oh! That human's soul is so pure and clean Sasuke! Will you keep it around for a while? To light up this gloomy underworld..." "Tch. None of your business what I do with my souls." "Sasuke-kun!" "Oi, do not call me that overly familliar name!" She would flinch and the cycle would repeat. Ino, as her Godly Half and counterpart would trail after her with a dejected pout, like always when they had to do some errands in Hell and Underworld. Shikamaru and TenTen consoled the blonde goddess as she played with the edges of her pristine, white dress. "She just chases this idiot around like a lost human child! What is she? Does she have no pride? Wha-" "Ino. She will come to her senses. Just let her do so." The brunette and the blonde shared a certain look, that the God of Logic missed at the time, since he was actually immersed in the work their ruler gave him. - "Sakura, why is my ambrosia tainted with cherry essence?" "Because there was no more in yours. Be lucky I even shared something with you." Shikamaru and Chouji listened to their bickering, as the his... fuller friend consumed obscene amounts of food. "Chouji! I was telling you! Please stop with your... yourself!" "Ino! Chouji has nothing to do with your irritant self!" "What about you! What about you? Huh? Where is the omnipresence? I would never think you to be a goddess, not even a demi!" Shikamaru felt a storm coming. "Heh, Ino, can you-" "No, can you shut up for a second Shikamaru? I want to see what this lower than human, pig, actually wants to say to me." Everything stills. Sakura holds some raw and circulating emotions in herself, while also radiating tainted anger, Shikamaru could nearly taste the emotion, but it had a different note to itself when present with other people... A star falls. A meteor breaks down. Ino spills a few meaningful, crystal tears. The ground breaks. Shikamaru truly thinks that the Goddesses beat every pathway and logical algorhytm in the Universe. - And? This silly fighting needed to stop at once. Even if the Goddess of Love herself had to stop them. - In the starlit room, the ceiling gaping towards the Core of the Universe, Ino and Sakura stared at each other, neither wavering. All at once, Sakura giggled. "Hey," Ino remarked with annoyance, "don't make fun of me!" "I am not, Ino-chan. We are both making fun of ourselves." The blonde pouted, yet still allowed the starry-eyed pinkette to finish her train of thought. "Why are we even fighting? Over such dumb, meaningless things? If we hate each other so much, why do we even coexist?" Ino had something in her throat – watching Sakura so sad ripped her being apart. She felt her beautiful face distort into something that shouldn't have ever been so vulnerable – her face was a terrified one, resembling something near-human. "We should... we-" Sakura started gasping and crying, and Ino knew, even if it were Yahiko, the God of Rain who controled the weather, no God could repair the floodgate that opened up on Earth. "I don't hate you!" The stunning blonde approached the equally stunning counterpart of hers – something bitersweet left on her tongue as she softly lifted her face and with scared, trembling fingers caressed the pure sweetness oozing out of the green-eyed beauty. "In-Ino. I... have never, ever hated you." Sakura leans in the touch of the thin-fingered wonder, her lips becoming too irresistable to Ino – they always were, but now, now she wanted to kiss her as long as she existed. Eternities were not long enough. Sakura seemed to share the same thoughts, imprinting their lips together, placing her hands on Ino's waist, electrifying and cooling her skin all at the same time. They didn't need air – and they didn't stop kissing. They were hungry for each others' hands, mouths, skin, love, lips, want... Ino broke them apart – blush arisen to her heavenly visage. Her eyes were bluer than the sky above at the moment. "I have always loved you. I still do. So, so much." "Yes. Please." Sakura didn't know what she begged Ino for, but the celestiality of their joining, Ino touching her ass with fervor, Sakura melting in her hands and returning the passion equally – Ino had never seen anything more beautiful and ethereal. She snorted in her own separated conciousness. And they call me the Goddess of Beauty... Shikamaru heard Sakura's slight moans and breathless, messy kissing, so when a very smiley Hinata dragged him away from the room – he was not surprised to see Sakura's skin marred like pale pomegranates the next human day, and Ino shushing and booing away all the Gods of Death from the Uchiha pantheon, never letting go of Sakura physically. When he settled near his Scales of Thought, back in his chambers, he nuzzled the softness that Temari provided and loved the simplicity of their communication. At least he will leave complications to the Goddesses.

[sstwins]

Femslash Feb Day 24 - Blessed - Mary/Kirari

LISTEN I WASN’T GONNA END THE MONTH WITHOUT MORE KAKEGURUI

This was an anon request!

Brief Summary: Being turned down by Mary is... oddly enticing.

Word Count: 300

I’m still accepting ships for femslash feb!!! Send me your fave fem pairs and I’ll write you a fic sometime this month!!

Mary should have felt privileged that Kirari was giving her any of her time. No, more than that. She should have felt blessed. Like shepards spoken to by their God. Kirari was descending from on high to even associate with Mary, to even give her any scraps of attention, much less offer her the chance to become a student council member, a god, herself. Kirari could think of numerous people, like Sayaka, who would have groveled before they had even gotten into the room with her. But Mary was different. Mary was… something else. And Kirari wasn’t sure why it got under her skin so much.

If she wanted to, she could subjugate Mary easily. Make her a housepet again against her will. It wouldn’t be hard. Kirari held all of the power in the school, and everyone had to do as she said. She could drag Mary down off her little pedestal and make her a laughing stock. She could offer Mary up for humiliating tasks and make her an object of ridicule. But there was something stopping her. She’d done this sort of thing before, so it wasn’t some sudden shred of humanity getting in the way. No, it had something to do with that damn Mary and her stubborn pride. Something about it was… alluring. Addictive. It made Kirari want to invite Mary in again and propose something else, just to watch her turn it down in that cocky, self-assured kind of way.

That way of thinking was dangerous.

No, Kirari would not associate with Mary any longer. They’d crossed paths, and they would not cross again. Mary would be free to dig her own grave if she wished, and Kirari would not seek her out. Because if she did, there was no telling what would happen.