gif: bering and wells

There’s just not enough queer fiction that’s not about “I came out and it was sad”

So I decided to write my own. 

It’s a magical, mythological piece about the love between Aphrodite, the Goddess of love, and Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt. 

There is angst, and there is sadness, but there is also a happy ending. Because wlw deserve happy endings 2k17. 

Pick up Olympic Hearts: a tale of two goddesses. You’ll be supporting your local tumblr lesbian. Also I want to flail about my story with you. 

Here’s the link to pick it up, 

https://www.amazon.com/Olympic-Hearts-tale-two-goddesses-ebook/dp/B06WGLNWGW/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1486740713&sr=8-2&keywords=olympic+hearts

I love these posts that pop up every now and again that are all like, “Why does everyone have to be so critical, stop fighting canon, soon the show will be over and you’ll have forgotten all about that couple you ship.”

Lol, no, not my gay ass. They’re going to be carving “Myka & HG deserved better” and “But Swan Queen made so much more sense narratively and emotionally” on my tombstone.

[Credit to @nuttydame for the gif and the inspiration, and for @threeofeight, who i promised I’d do something.]


It’s the first time she feels it. The almost accidental brush of Helena’s hand against her own. So innocuous that it could, for all intents and purposes, be just that; an accident.

Only it doesn’t FEEL accidental.

In that moment, Myka would swear she feels H.G.’s hand lift into the touch. Feels it in the way butterflies unexpectedly swam the space behind her ribs.

It’s in the way H.G. looks away with a smile right before the the touch, avoiding Myka’s eye contact and making it seem like an innocent mistake.

Only it doesn’t feel like a mistake.

It feels like nervousness, fear, and awe, all rolled into one big mess that sits behind her chest and as those unexpected butterflies hang about to flutter around it.

It feels like something.

Feels like a start.

It’s not the first time Myka feels it.

And it won’t be the last.

I am a bit ticked off.

Hello, @garr9988 . You may or may not remember, but I was the first person to respond to your reblog of that Bering & Wells post, in which you called out @ellabellbee . In the Ask I sent to you, I said the following: “Hey man, just FYI, you don’t need to ‘explain’ things to anybody in the B&W fandom, and particularly not to @ellabellbee. We’ve been here a lot longer than you and know what went down just a tiny bit better. For real! Thanks.”

To which you responded publicly, saying that I sounded condescending but that I probably hadn’t meant to. (For the record: meant to, but only a little.) You also said that you “felt the need to correct people” when they held “incorrect beliefs” about things. I didn’t much like your response, I’ll admit, but okay. I said what I said, you said what you said, and you made those words public.

I bring this up only because you deleted my Ask and your answer: you erased me, and my voice, from the situation. And I don’t often express anger publicly, but erasure is one of the things I REALLY DON’T LIKE.

You say you’re a feminist, and you support that by citing the dictionary definition of feminism. I really, genuinely hope you won’t find it condescending if I point out that dictionary definitions tend not to cover lived experience in its fullness. I’m a feminist too. My lived experience of that—as a gay white woman, one who has spent most of her working life in fields dominated by men—probably gives me a different perspective than yours gives you. Anyway, my lived definition includes the importance of not erasing women’s voices. Maybe take that into consideration the next time you decide, first, to insert your voice into a conversation that is mostly (but of course not completely) among and about women, and second, to mostly disregard, and then delete, what was intended as a friendly warning from a woman who is fully informed about said conversation.

In conclusion:

They’re good captains, Bront.


Mackinac Island, Michigan where summers are eternal and winters are endless. Nestled within the waters of Lake Huron, Myka Bering has built a life, unconventional though it might be. Few would truly call a life lived among only a handful of people, on an Island that doesn’t allow cars or much else in the way of modernity, conventional. Yet, despite the unique set of complications such a life brings, Myka is content; content with the company she owns, the horses she oversees, the friends she loves. Who needed conventionality anyway, as long as you were happy? Little did Myka know that all it would take for her contented life to be turned upside down though was for H.G. Wells to finally take her best friend up his offer to come spend a summer on the Island, living, working, and everything else in between.

>>> Of Bikes, Horses, and Fudge by Granger4013