Sapphic-bottom - Loving Women

Heading to Pillowfort, and I’m Offering Keys

Hi, you may or may not know me. I go by Tyramir, and I’m an author. Mostly I write fanfic, but I have also published a book at some point. (Yes, that was a subtle plug – don’t feel obligated to click the links, they’re there to justify to myself why I’m doing this so I can say this wasn’t 100% altruistic because I’m a crusty old troll)

So, recently, Tumblr has made something of an announcement regarding what kind of content they will and will not host in the future. And you know what, that’s okay. It’s their site. They can do what they want. Just like I’m free to say, “Hey, @staff, go fuck yourselves with some sandpaper, you masochistic fucks.”

Ah, that felt good. You know what else feels good? Moving to Pillowfort. I’m in no way associated with them, beyond that I am now a user. I just bought a key. More than one, actually. I bought a whackload of them. I am not rich. See: author. Very poor profession if you’re not ultra-successful. However, what I am is angry, and disappointed with the direction this site is taking. 

This site is home for the marginalised, for the outcasts, for the misfits. It’s also the home for a lot of fellow artists, like myself. Ones that might not have a little extra cash in their wallets. So, as a Christmas gift (and as a way of sharing that link up above advertising my book, see self, you’re not totally altruistic), I’m making this offer.

Reblog and like this post. You don’t have to follow me. You don’t have to buy my book. You don’t have to tell anyone it exists. You don’t even have to click that link. Just like and reblog. Anyone who likes it will get one entry for drawing for a key. Anyone who reblogs it will get one. Anyone who does both will get two. And on December 17th, the Day of Ignominy, I will draw ten names, and I will gift ten keys. I’ll even wear a Willy Wonka hat while I do. You won’t be able to see it, but the spirit will be there.

If you want to get the word out, but don’t want to get an entry (say you already have a Pillowfort account), just reblog and tag the post with “no entry,” or some variation thereof. I’ll exclude you from the draw, but thank you (in my mind, I’m not gonna actually thank people, but that requires effort, yo) for helping others learn about this opportunity.

TL;DR: Bald author wants to use very little cash he has to give people Pillowfort accounts. Just like and reblog for entries. Also, I hope you are feasted upon by a swarm of angry weasels, @staff.

**EDITED TO INCLUDE** A kind soul who has stated their desire to remain anonymous has volunteered an additional five keys to the raffle! We are now up to fifteen keys.

reblog if you:

- flinch away when someone touches you.

- panic when you accidentally break an object.

- get scared when someone walks behind you.

- feel your heart rate increase at every sudden noise.

- are easily panicked by slightly-louder-than-normal sounds.

- stare apprehensively at your bedroom doorway for hours at night.

- have trouble making eye contact with people.

- always feel either too mature or too immature for your age.

- simultaneously crave and be terrified of physical contact.

because i do all of these

I like the word gay. But I like “lesbian” better.

I like it because of Sappho of Lesbos, a lesbian and a Lesbian whose memory reminds us that women who loved women existed long before any time on earth that any living person can remember.

I like it because of Sappho’s poetry, the sweet prose she wrote for the goddess Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Aphrodite has her counterpart in the Roman goddess Venus, whose symbol has evolved to represent the woman, the female, the feminine.

I like it because of its culture and history. Butch, fem, stud, dyke. Bars where women drink and dance and laugh and kiss other women. Boston marriages. Women’s colleges. They wanted Ellen to get a puppy but she wanted to kiss a lady.

It hasn’t all been pretty. This word has been taken from us, made into a fetish, a porn category, fuel for men’s libidos. Hysterical. Asocial. Deviants. Lesbians.

But that makes me love it all the more—to spite them, to spite the men who salivate over us, to spite the churches that rally against us, to spite it all. But I wear this badge for more than just spite. I wear it for love. Love for women, love for our history, love for love for… lesbian.

It’s not a dirty word. It’s beautiful, and I am proud to call myself a lesbian.

Reblog if you're on team "don't touch me without my permission but if you have my permission please never stop touching me"

*raises hand*

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