#queer people can't win

[sphinx-musings]

the writers of this show are fucking with me specifically.

[pochapal]

had a migraine all day then sat in the shower for almost an hour rotating life is strange thoughts in my mind and now the headache's gone and i'm also mad

[sureuncertainty]

getting to the point where i've gotten a bit wary of those posts along the lines of 'this pride month let's stop focusing on meaningless discourse and talk about actual real problems facing the queer community' because it's not always obvious whether they mean 'meaningless discourse' as in 'don't worry about other people's labels and let queer people live' or is it 'this discourse is fake and stupid and meaningless and doesn't matter at all'?

it's like the way people will reduce acephobia to "discourse", this attitude of trivializing actual bigotry and acting like it's not a big deal or a real problem in queer spaces when it very much is!

[curiosityschild]

I want to be rich enough to buy a racehorse and name it Trans Rights

[sirenium]

Every time I try to veer away from discourse, I get reminded that people hate me for no reason elsewhere 💀

[marty--party]

btw i'm personally okay with any pronouns for my chihiro but i always refer to them as she/they in my mind and in my art, if any of you wanted the specifics all i know is that chihiro is NOT cis and is filled with girlisms <3

[akajustmerry]

I wanna say from very bottom of my heart that I deeply truly rabidly despise Taylor Swift and the glamorous black hole of immorality, gracelessness and lack of integrity she represents. I truly hate that I have to witness her 2-chord mediocre stream of consciousness high school ballads win the highest accolades in music. I hate how there's not a single discourse - from sports to fucking queer theory - that's free of her. I hate her white feminism, how she's never stood for a single thing that didn't ensure her wealth. I hate how she's credited and praised for things marginalised artists did before her. I hate how she latches onto new artists so they serve HER fame, like remoras to a shark. I hate her phony humble beginnings narrative that people parrot without acknowledging she's a nepo baby. I hate what she did to olivia rodrigo and how no one talks about it. I hate the waste her concerts, lifestyle, and merch create and that a young girl died from heat illness at her concert because the swift team prioritises exclusivity and profit over safety. I hate how she and her fandom popularised the idea that critiquing a woman = misogyny. I hate how she's in her mid 30s and still writes songs like she's a teenager and that songs written by a woman in her 30s acting like a teenager are inescapable. I hate she deliberately re-releases songs and records so other artists can't chart. I hate how she regularly and openly associates with bigoted people but somehow is always given the benefit of the doubt. Most of all I hate how she does and continues to do all of this and so much more and her fans will always have a, "but!" always have an, "anyway!". she's openly and uncritically supporting a presidential candidate who's administration is enacting genocide, but because she made a joke with her cats, we're meant to be like, "yay!" I truly despise Taylor Swift and the black hole of neoliberal white feminist mediocrity she is in popular culture.

[anotherpapercut]

yesterday I went to a little meeting at my local queer community center and I was admiring their bookshelves and mentioned that I work at the public library and someone said "well I bet they don't have any [LGBTQ+ books] at our library" and I was like um. yes we do. we have tons of them. half of our employees are queer leftists so they said "oh well I bet they don't in [nearby rural county]" and I was like uh once again yes they absolutely do. gay people live and work there as well

so here's a quick reminder that if you don't think your local library has enough queer centered materials you should actually check before assuming, and if you're not satisfied with their collection you should submit a request for more such books. I don't know what the political landscape of libraries looks like outside the us rn, but within the us no matter where you are, I promise you there are employees at your library fighting for inclusion and intellectual freedom and they can't win without vocal public support

[artistformerlyknownasbutttrumpet]

casual reminder before tomorrow arrives that abstaining or voting 3rd party instead of voting for harris is THE most selfish thing you can do. i know you think you are doing the right thing, but i cannot emphasize enough that these two candidates are NOT "equally bad." palestinians will be in significantly more danger if that criminal shitstain wins, IN ADDITION TO every other minority and less privileged person. if you really and truly want to prove your motivation is to stop the harm of others, then you MUST put your ego aside and do the uncomfortable thing. this is not the time for a boycott. this is not the time to dig your heels in the sand and claim you can't possibly go against your morals. the truth of the matter is that palestinians will be safer if you vote for harris. as a queer woc, with so many friends and family whose well-being is at risk, i will feel more betrayed by you than by the people who vote for trump, bc we are supposed to take care of each other, and yet you'd rather watch us burn than do the uncomfortable thing. abstaining is nothing but a selfish, holier-than-thou, performative act. if you abstain, then you are actively causing harm, and if he wins because of it, those of us who can use our common sense will never forget how much you fucked us over. if he wins, more people (including palestinians) are going to get hurt, and that blood will be on your hands. do the uncomfortable thing. it's a better show of moral integrity than abstaining will ever be

[the-iron-queen]

I ranted so much in the tags that I hit the max limit (30 wtf) and couldn't tag the shows on my reblog anymore :(

Anyway, thank you for your service I am absolutely with you.

actually in general i think i'm just gonna become a villain if i see anyone complaining about girl rules or only friends: dream on. if you don't like the toxic gays, don't watch, LET US HAVE THIS

[booksinmythorax]

Some tips from a librarian for today and the future:

Go to the library. Get a card. Borrow things. Buying books is neat, but the books the fascists want to ban are still there, on the shelf, at your local library, and if they aren't, you can request them. While book bans can happen and are happening in public libraries, the vast majority of "successful" challenges are happening in school libraries. You can still get books from your public library, and getting the books from the library tells your library they should keep them on the shelf. Borrowing anything, walking in the door, and/or attending programs all help get your library more funding. Fighting censorship in this way is effective and costs you $0.

Pay attention to local government. Read your local newspaper, or the local-est paper you can find. (You wanna know who can probably help you read your local paper for free? Your local library.) Look up your representatives in your state and local governments, not just federal. Read their biographies online. Find out what they stand for.

When something divisive is happening in your local community (a book ban, a school board ruling on bathrooms or sports, a change in curriculum), show up. No, literally. Show up to the school board meeting, the library board meeting, the county commission meeting. If you can't show up, make a phone call. If you can't make a phone call, write an email. Your voice has the most effect on the local and state level.

Now, counterintuitively, is a really good time to get to know your neighbors. Do not self isolate out of suspicion. We are stronger together. If you need suggestions for ways to get to know those neighbors, your local library probably has groups you can join, or will start them if you ask nicely and promise to show up. Hand to the gods, a once-monthly book club or gardening club or crochet circle might be your difference between total despair and feeling maybe pretty okay.

Only talk about your personal identities and experiences if you think you will be physically safe doing so. Consider limiting your social media posting. Buy a paper diary. Talk to people in person or via secure direct message if you really want to grow relationships and make an impact. Educating others is great and important. It's also most effective when you have an existing personal relationship with the person involved in the conversation with you. Consider starting new accounts without your face or name if you choose to continue using social media.

Avoid talking about others' personal identities and experiences, particularly without their consent. Your friends, family members, children, and partners are not tools you should use to win an argument. Point to the lives of writers, activists, educators, and artists who are out if you need an illustrative example in a teaching moment with someone you know. Others' religious beliefs, immigration statuses, queer identities, and pregnancy statuses are nobody's fucking business but their own, unless they choose to tell others for their own reasons.

[depresseddepot]

I talked myself into a hole at work today because I explained an opinion poorly and then clarified poorly so I've decided my only chance at participating in society is to be stupid

[walks-the-ages]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but regurgitating Radical Feminism talking point of

"Men are all Inherently Evil, Physically Superior, and Predatory to Women"

does not, in fact, do anything for Actual Feminism where the main talking point is

"We are all Human Beings and we're not Intrinsically Different based on the gender some random doctors decided on at birth"

and you're not doing anything for Queer Solidarity either when you go around proclaiming that all men, including trans men, are these evil oppressive monsters who have advantages in life based purely on their gender (even if they are trans men who are not out of the closet yet, apparently) , and I'm not sure why on earth the new crop of Trans-Inclusive Rad Fems think that being 'proud misandrists' is going to save them from being targeted by cis transphobes??? You can't win protection from transphobes by throwing your fellow trans community under the bus, and when you go around saying that all men are disgusting oppressive predators who have never done anything for the queer community ever and have never experienced any true oppression ever its like. ....

.... what the fuck is wrong with you?

Did you forget the AIDs crisis exists?

Did you forget the gay and bi men exist?

Did you forget that Black men exist??

The world's oppression does not begin and end with trans women, and if you're happy to throw the rest of the trans community under the bus so you can feel superior, I don't know who the heck you expect to have your back when you need help, because everyone else has already been run the fuck over, because you fucking threw them in the road because you somehow still think Respectability Politics is gonna save you instead of leaving your Exclusionist Bubble the community that ends up alone and isolated.

Trust me. Life is a lot more bearable and hopeful when you don't go around insisting an entire 50% of humanity is evil based on their gender. Try talking to your fellow trans men, trans mascs, nonbinary people and intersex people before you make another post about how """theyfabs have it so easy and trans men are inherently privalaged and evil because they're men and they shouldn't talk about reproductive health or the need for safe abortions because that's just speaking over women""" 🤦🤦🤦

[duckprintspress]

Just to chime in briefly on the "libraries pay authors" as an indie press - yes, we get money (that, as appropriate, gets paid to authors as royalties) every time a library buys our books. We also get money every time someone "borrows" one of our e-books - there's a per-read payment system for a lot of e-book library lending apps.

And also another small addition - I need to make it clear that small indie presses like mine aren't "big pub" even if we're technically legally a corporation (in my case, a "limited liability corporation," which just means "if the business folds they can't seize all my family's personal assets to pay my debt, so like, my kids won't be left homeless because my business failed" - my personal liability is limited/separate from my liability as the owner of a corporation.) I am NOT saying that Joy or Alex said this, to be clear, but I've noticed a huge number of people seem to think that ANY business that isn't "sole author publishing" is the same as Big Pub and like. We're so not. Small press people are generally only a handful of employees at most (Duck Prints Press has one employee - me) and we work our asses off to try to scrape by in an incredibly hostile general world environment. Every small press person I know is right on the limit of giving up, not because we don't love the work, but because we can't earn enough to pay our authors and ourselves. As a business owner who, ya know, has some actual fucking ethics...the owner gets paid last. I make sure the editors, the authors, the artists, the graphic designers, everyone else, gets paid, before I take a cent.

And as a result, I haven't taken a paycheck in the almost three YEARS I've been running this business. I haven't earned a penny from this business, even for my own writing - when me-the-author or me-the-editor might have gotten paid if I was an outsider, I don't take the money, I just leave it in the business pool. I'm currently working as much as 60 hours a week for zero pay and zero benefits, and I take maybe a dozen days off all year, and I still am a mom, and a member of fandom, and I wish I could still be an author but I don't even have the energy left for my own writing at the end of the day, and this is all because I believe that the people we work with, as a group, can potentially do better if we collectivize and publish TOGETHER than any of us could do alone if we tried to go the solo self-pub route.

To be honest, so far, I'm not sure that's true, because there's so much stigma around "it's a corporation" that people act like we're the same as a Harper Collins or something. WE'RE NOT. Small Press ISN'T THAT.

Okay, this didn't end up a small addition, and I could probably keep going, but coming from the small press angle...we're drowning too. Big Pub is trying to kill indie publishing - and that means self-pub AND places like us - and when people pirate from us, when people go "eh, they're a ~corporation~, they must be fine," when people just...assume that any collective (as in, any group of authors trying to work together to make this work) are Just As Bad, you really screw us, and it's so exhausting to constantly see people act like "everyone who isn't a single, solitary, starving artist is Part Of The Evil." And, like ariaste says, this is ALSO while we fight against the "self pub is all crap/impossible to succeed at/not worth paying attention to" stigma that exists in more traditional circles. People who want to "support small" think we're big and people who think only big exists assume we're only doing this because we suck, and so we get it from all sides.

(And again: This is NOT something I've ever seen thebibliosphere do, this isn't about OP or the other commenter ariaste, it's about general trends I observe in how people act toward DPP and other small presses. We're. We're working so hard y'all, and we're so tired, and it's so insanely difficult to even get enough traction to publish the stories that I see so many people on Tumblr claim they want, but when we actually make them, all we get is crickets.)

(really shutting up now. sorry. sweatdrop)

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

[chrissv4mp]

♱ EYES FOR YOU

requested <3

WARNINGS. tiny outburst, small argument, jealous!reader, and billie acting like a huge cornball.

SYPNOSIS. when you find a wide-spread video of your childhood best friend kissing another popular social media star, you find yourself growing jealous. however, billie seems to think you're a little out of your mind.

WORDS. 2.5k

LETTERS. wanted this fic to take a more gentle, fluffy route since i haven't been providing that much 🤍

music from billie's new album boomed in the background of the low-quality video, lights flashing of every color imaginable onto the stage that seemed to be crowded with more people than it would hold.

the most noticeable people were front and center—billie and quen, a friend of hers that you'd grown to like and enjoy hanging around.

billie walks in quen's direction, the quality fuzzy, but it's clear that billie grabs her chin and pulls her into a kiss—a quick one—but a kiss nonetheless. with their height difference, billie has to raise herself on her toes.

sure, the kiss doesn't last long, but when billie pulls away, her fingers are still grasping at quen's chin. then, billie moves away and she retracts her hand like nothing happened.

you can't seem to take your eyes off of your phone, the video playing on repeat as you just sit there and watch. it was some stupid tiktok taken last night while billie was at coachella to play her album that showed up on your feed—and it was getting to you a little more than you'd like to admit.

billie was your childhood best friend, and the bond that you and her grew throughout all these years never changed. your feelings—platonic, of course—never changed, not even when you two had arguments or disagreements. but then, when billie got together with her second boyfriend, something in your mind shifted.

and after she broke up with him, you were happier than ever. it was selfish of you, sure, but you couldn't help it. then, when billie started seeing another guy a few years later, you finally acknowledged your crush on the girl—but you never had the guts to tell her.

then she broke up with the boy, and you were happy again, like you had a chance at winning her heart. every time she broke up with one of her boyfriends, you were always there, comforting her with gentle words despite how overjoyed you were. you didn't understand how she never saw that you were the one for her.

so, when billie came to you with the confession that she liked girls as well, your hopes—as if you were gonna tell her anytime soon—skyrocketed. then word spread via an article, and the whole queer-baiting rumors started up again. when her album came out, and lunch was put out into the world, the feedback seemed both positive and negative.

billie's collab with charli was another big thing that was put out into the world not even 5 months later, and with the knowledge that billie was so open and proud about her sexuality, you somehow found yourself falling deeper in love with billie—your childhood best friend.

when your hopes were just starting to overflow and you were beginning to gain the courage to ask her out, this video was put onto your for you page. but this was not meant for you to see at all.

you weren't sure what came over you. in an instant, your phone was flying through the air and banging against the door of your bedroom. with a small clatter and the quietest cracks of glass, your phone falls onto the hardwood floors of your dimly-lit room, the only source of light being the evening sun shining through your blinds.

a quiet gasp was all you could react with because, quite frankly, you had no idea what you had just done. you throw your covers off your body, the cool air hitting your skin immediately. your feet tap against the wood beneath you as you scurry to grab your phone, eyes wide and filled with the tiniest flickers of terror.

the screen protector that billie had suggested sounded really useful right now. but, of course, you were always so stubborn.

you carefully grab the device, eyes tracing the little pieces of glass and plastic that surrounded it. you knew it was destroyed, but something in your head told you it wasn't. so, you flip it over, and fear quickly passes through your system. it shouldn't have been a surprise, but your phone was broken and you couldn't have been more frustrated.

to think this was all over a stupid video of billie kissing her friend was embarrassing, really, and it almost made you want to laugh just thinking about it. but nothing was funny because now your phone was broken and now—maybe—your best friend, crush, whatever she was, kissed a girl that wasn't you. but she was prettier than you, so you had no chance in the world anymore.

your mind is fuzzy, filling with so much anger and frustration that it feels like you might explode any second now. not even the stupidest person would be dumb enough to something like this: destroying their phone over some girl that they stood no chance with. a popular, liked world-wide, pretty girl.

dropping your phone and sitting against the wall beside your door did nothing to help your situation because when you blinked, your eyes gravitated to the calendar that was pinned above your bedside table—and, by some coincidence, tomorrow was the day billie began her temporary stay so that she could get the plumbing in her house fixed.

you were so fucked.

you only realized how much you regretted giving billie the spare key to your house when she showed up at the bright and early time of 8 am with a backpack slung over her shoulder and a couple of suitcases at her sides. the quiet thud of the front door closing isn't what woke you, not even the loud clatter of billie tripping and falling over her suitcases disrupted your peaceful slumber.

neither of you knew how or why, but the faint smell of billie's perfume when she carefully and quietly opened your door was the one thing that would never fail to wake you. your eyes snap open, and your heart clenches immediately as you sit up to see the exact person you dreaded meeting today. in an effort to seem presentable, though, you offer billie a sleepy, half-assed smile.

"good mornin'," she greets, lips tugging up into that smile you always loved but forced yourself to hate in this moment. it was not a good morning.

however, you rub your eyes and pull the covers closer to your body. you lower your hands back to your sides, twisting and tugging at the comforter nervously as you completely ignore her.

billie shrugs it off, brown locks cascading over her shoulders, a loose strand hanging over one lense of her glasses. she kicks her shoes off, placing them beside yours like she always did whenever she came over before she crawls onto the bed with a gentle smile on her face. her eyes are still drowsy with sleep, and you can tell she's still not over the high she got from coachella just a few days ago.

the thought alone makes you sick.

but you keep down your comments, keeping yourself calm with a few deep breaths. your eyes move back over to the open door, billie's bag and suitcases resting in the hallway, knocked over. you're so intent on your need for a distraction you don't even realize when billie snuggles under the covers and turns on her side to stare at you.

she notices your distracted state, eyes following yours to the hallway where her things were. she only giggles at the memory, "i'll get those in a bit. they fuckin' tripped me. unbelievable." she grumbles, shaking her head.

despite your nervous, ticked-off mood, you can't help but crack even the smallest smile at her ability to get mad at an object.

still, you don't utter a word, the only sounds coming from your throat being soft breaths and the quiet, fast thumping of your heart in your chest. you were sure billie heard it. or you were just paranoid and kept on your toes from the video you saw yesterday. you couldn't ignore the jealousy and frustration you felt even at the slightest indication of it.

at your silence, billie sits up, cocking an eyebrow and tilting her head in confusion like a dog, "hey, what's wrong?"

when your silence continues, billie can't help but come up with the idea that you're ignoring her. because that's exactly what you're doing, "did i do somethin'?" she asks, voice small. she sounded genuinely concerned.

she frowns when you still don't give her the reassurance or satisfaction of a clear answer. even a simple nod of the head would do it for her, but you don't even provide her with that comfort. her hands clench into fists, tucking her lower lip between her teeth because she didn't know what else to do.

her eyes flicker with worry as you exhale deeply, and she comes to the conclusion that you're mad. mad at her? but why? she didn't understand, but she wanted to. she really did because she couldn't stand the silent treatment. and you knew that.

"y/n," her voice shakes, lower lip beginning to quiver. billie really was just a big baby when it came to you, "seriously, you know how much i hate this shit." she murmurs, running her fingers through her hair and tugging softly whenever she gets to the ends, "y/n."

even at her vulnerable, sad state, you still don't let out a peep. you just sit and stare at the hallway, breathing in and out deeply, each breath coming out harder and faster. your heart felt like it'd beat out of your chest if it kept up with the pace it was at.

your own hands tug at the sheets, finally tearing your eyes away from the hall as you focus your attention on the white comforter again. you tried to ignore her, you really did, but with the way she was asking—almost begging—made you want to punch yourself because she was just so sweet.

"just tell me if i did something. i—i'll fix it, y/n, i promise i will." she whimpers. she whimpers and your walls break down completely.

"you kissed her, billie. at coachella," you blurt, tone hostile and sharp as you turn your entire body to face her, "you kissed her when it was so obvious that i like you." you scoff, and exasperated smile on your face.

she's taken aback by your confession, and the bewildered look on her face is laughable, but nothing seems to be very light or funny. she furrows her eyebrows, recollecting the events of the night a few days prior where she was on the stage with her friends.

a lot of videos seemed to circulate and get passed around all of social media that night. videos of billie grabbing her friends playfully and just being touchy per usual. the video that was most prominent, though, was the clip of her and her close friend, quen, kissing. it was obviously playful, anyone could see if they had two eyes and good vision.

and, plus, most of the internet passed it by as 'billie eilish and her best friend quen blackwell playing around,' so it came as a surprise whenever you looked at her as if awaiting an answer.

"it was quen, y/n, she's one of my closest friends. i was being a total goof the entire night, it was all just playful fun. i—you, sorry—you like me?" she stammers, the entire situation too much for her to wrap her head around so quickly.

it was all news to her. your confession, your accusation, everything.

"still, billie—it doesn't make any fucking sense." you retort, eyes wild.

she still tugs at her hair nervously, albeit knowing the reason for your silence, and begins to speak again, voice shaky, "it was just a dare odessa gave me, y/n. honest. quen thought it was out of the ordinary, too." billie explains.

"we were laughing at the videos on the ride back to our places. it was all just a misunderstanding," she breathes, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of hope or realization. when your eyes meet hers, she almost frowns because of how embarrassed you look.

instead, her hands reach out for yours, taking them in her own large ones adorned with the rings she forgot to take off the night prior. she gives you a reassuring smile, soft and genuine as her eyes dart between your lips and irises.

still, she catches the tiny glint of doubt in your eyes. so, she acknowledges your confession again, knowing that was the one thing that was bugging you, "i don't think anyone's more stupid than me for not realizing your feelings sooner. and after all these years? god, i feel like an idiot." she laughs.

her eyes never leave yours, showing just how serious and committed she is to the words that leave her mouth, "i really hope you more than just 'like' me because i love you."

your lips part in surprise, eyes widening even more if that was possible. your heart seemed to beat faster, and this time you were sure it'd beat out of your chest if you didn't calm down soon. her own confession was a huge smack in the face because she seemed to be really good at hiding it. so, it led you to think she was lying. just maybe.

when she saw the flicker of doubt was still there, though, she did the first thing she could think of. her face spoke for her as she gave you a, 'you think i'm kidding?' look, then her hands cupped your face and she kissed you and you almost passed out from the shock.

her lips molded against your so perfectly, fingers digging into your skin so gently it was like you were getting pulled in by nothing but the wind. her nose brushed yours as she pulled you closer, lips curling into a smile from the pride she got from finally making a move.

the feeling of her lips against your own was euphoric, like something you'd never felt before. it was a new high that would never be beat ever again because billie was surely about to take over your entire life after this. she'd become everything and all you'd think about.

she never wanted to pull away, but when her lungs demanded fresh air, she pulled away with hesitancy, lips parting to breath deeply, heavily. her eyes fluttered open, eyes flitting all across your face and taking a second to admire your each and every feature.

her tongue darts out to wet her lips before she speaks again, mind completely lost in nothing but you, "believe it now?" she teases lightly, challenging you even in the softest, most vulnerable moments of your relationship—a relationship that was definitely gonna become more than just friends.

her thumbs caress your cheeks, touch soft and sweet against your skin, "now you know i only have eyes for you." she whispers, smiling proudly.

your smile grows at her words, biting your lip as your eyes flit down to her own plump ones, "glad to finally know that."

"great. now can i kiss you again?"

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy

[hockpock]

I'm having a lot of thoughts that other people will probably say much more succinctly, elegantly, humorously. But they're worth saying.

They may have won an election. They haven't won you. Scared , angry, stupid people cannot turn back the clock to a time that never existed and they can't put the wimmin and the queers and the [slurs redacted] back into Pandora's box.

Grieve. Scream cry throw up, stay in bed for a day, burn some shit.

But fuck em. Don't let them win you.

Find your community, hold on tight, be safe. Be. Exist as hard as you can. Because fuck em, because you are not alone, because even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

Please.