/sapphic/ - Sapphic Dreams

>>2511

As if you're doing that either, triggered incel.

>>2511

>How do you cope knowing being a dyke slut means not fulfilling your ONLY FUCKING BIOLOGICAL TASK?

What about backrubs?

>>3081

did some digging and found OP on F*cebook. she seems to live in california not an islamic country.

>>3081

>not even lesbians

you sure? they look like a happy couple to me. i see obvious chemistry.

>>3085

>they look like a happy couple to me. i see obvious chemistry.

Same, the pics are just a happy couple. Wouldn't be out of place on the 'Girls like girls' thread.

>>3081

>Maybe they're not even lesbians and this is an attempt to get them in trouble in some Islamic country,

They'd be covered head to foot if they were citizens of an Islamic state like Afghanistan, Iran, or England.

>>3544

Exactly. I think it’s a self promo.

Against the star-littered night-sky and the gibbous moon the ruined castle atop the hill dominated the surrounding moon-dappled landscape. Its several crumbling stone towers, chapel spire and ruined battlements still rising high above the trees that encircled the massive outer walls like an invading army. The old road that ran up the gently sloping hill from the wooded base had over the centuries sunk down, become worn away by the countless footfalls of people, till at last, a hollow way had formed, and the overhead branches made it seem like a tunnel. At the base of the hill old, defensive earthworks encircled it, long-since overgrown by trees and shrubberies, and it was now almost indistinguishable from the rest of the hill.

The sight of the ruined castle had always reminded her of the scenes Caspar David Friedrich painted so beautifully, and especially so on a chill, moonlit autumnal night. She watched the castle silhouetted against the night-sky as the car drove along the old gravel road through what had once been the main street of the old village. The bombastic intro of ‘The Moon Was Yellow’ gave away and Frank Sinatra’s smooth voice took over on the car stereo, and she had to admit that the song seemed to be made for the scene.

Ever since she had first heard the tales of Karnstein Castle and the noble family of which she was a distant descendant via a maternal line, Sara Weil had felt a pull towards the castle. She remembered seeing some of the old family portraits on the walls when visiting her grandparents at a quite young age. Even though the paintings were faded by age and blackened by dirt and time she felt a wonderful familial resemblance to one portrait in particular – written in gold in the corner of the portrait was a name: Mircalla Karnstein. It had felt like she was looking at her own reflection in a the water, only slightly distorted despite being separated from each other by centuries – in particular it was the eyes that gave it away. What had begun as a fascination with a distant relative had developed into an obsession; and the vague, hazy memories, or even fragments of memories that had been with her for as long as she could recall began to fit like the pieces of a puzzle when she began to research her long-dead relative – names, faces, places and events. She had ‘known’ where to go when Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

>>1722

Darkness. The bed was soft and warm. She heard muffled footsteps approaching. Sara opened her eyes.

Oh, Rand. What happened?

It didn't work Miss Sara

It didn't bloody work. She mumbled under her breath. A quiet discomfort began to creep over her which quickly turned to a rising sense of embarrassment. What had she been thinking? Rand threw open the blind allowing the midday sun to pour into the room. Sara threw a pillow over her face. She couldn't bear the light on her eyes. From under the lightly resting pillow she addressed Rand.

I suppose you think I'm quite the fool, don't you.

Rand stood back and appraised his employer, casting his eye over her barely distinguishable figure hidden under folds upon folds of heavy bedding. Only two pale thin hands were visible at the edges of the pillow. Holding it in place to conceal her face.

It is two pm. Mr Morris will be here shortly to discuss the wedding.

And with that, Rand made for the door.

Bring me two ibuprofen will you? I feel a migraine coming on.

It was a strange sensation in fact. She did indeed feel the symptoms of a migraine approaching. A rawness of the senses. A state where stimuli becomes stronger and at times unbearable. Sound, taste, the light…And yet, at the same time, she felt quite wonderful. The latter being something not soon to be paired with a migraine. Curious.

Oh Jack! Whatever would she tell him? Sara jumped out of bed, quickly closing the blind as she did so. She resolved to tell him nothing. After all, nothing came of it. Why should he know anything of her bout of madness? Such a revelation might drive him away from her. Even so, the desire to hide from Jack grew stronger. She hadn't the energy to face this. What she did need, she decided, was a strong coffee. Yes coffee, that will do the trick. The coffee shop with the server who never smiled. What was her story anyway? Sara fancied the mystery of the girl that never smiled at the coffee house to be much morePost too long. Click here to view the full text.

>>1735

Languidly she made her way down the grand staircase, clutching the railing to steady herself with her good hand, yet somehow succeeding in looking graceful. Her oversized sunglasses soothed her eyes as she stepped outside of the darkened entrance hall and made her way down the stone steps and short distance towards the waiting car. “Coffee shop, please.” Rand nodded and closed the car door for her, and she was thankfully prepared for the sound it made and its effect on her aching body. Whether it was due to the stress and long night, or the soul crushing blow that last night had resulted in utter failure, she grit her teeth and squinted her eyes as the car took off and the sensation of motion washed over her.

It would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad; all the money and time her parents had wasted on trying to ‘cure’ her from her paranoid delusions. If anyone had seen her last night, when Rand brought her back home in such a state… She would have been shipped off to yet another posh private clinic or institution in the middle of nowhere in the countryside to be medicated till she hardly knew what day it was. And to make matters worse the forced sessions of useless group therapy, and therapist sessions where some Freudian fraud diagnosed her with whatever nonsense they could, and prescribe more medication to keep her docile. She gently traced the length of the wound in her palm, now covered by the bandage. The pain had thankfully lessened, and Rand’s expertly applied bandage had stopped the bleeding quickly and effectively. No doubt her mother would notice and have a conniption fit. All in due time. She kept her head resting against the soft headrest of the backseat, and her eyes closed behind the dark-tinted sunglasses. She doubted simple painkillers could explain the way her senses were acting up, like she was becoming hyper-aware of her surroundings and coming down from a high at the same time. It was the strangest sensation ever, and not all that unpleasant.

“We’re here,” Rand announced, looking at her via the rear-view mirror when she made no effort to get out. The car had stopped, but her body still felt like they were driving, or on the open sea. “Are you sure you are feeling up tPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

>>1744

Narrow and dark, the coffee shop wedged between brick faces to either side, appeared little more than a door in a wall upon approaching. Once through the threshold however, and down a short corridor of not more than five feet, the premise opened up to a cosy scene. To the left, the counter and coffee machine. Along the right side of the wall were a number of small round tables coupled with one or two stools. Beyond the counter and toward the back wall were larger tables arranged in a booth like manner, whereupon customers lounged on comfortable cushioned supports with the wall acting as back rests. It was at one of these tables that Sara had placed herself, back to the wall, counter to her front right, and corridor entrance slightly to her left.

Satisfied with her ability to see the larger goings on of the cafe, Sara noticed with a tinge of disappointment that the girl was not present today. No matter, the idea of a hot drink still called to her, and the idea of returning to the house, and Jack, so soon did not appeal at all. An ever so small pang of guilt shot through her. She brushed it aside, ordering a tall black coffee from the waiting server. Her mind drifted back to Jack. His face popping in and out of her mind's eye.

They had met on campus. Before she had come into her inheritance. The dashing Mr. Morrisey swept Sara utterly off of her feet and before she knew it, she was accepting his marriage proposal. It was all so romantic, so perfect. She wondered why then, the sudden appearance of cold feet. Was it cold feet? Something felt out of place.

The coffee arrived. Steam visibly rising from the black liquid within the tall thin glass. She drank. While she welcomed the warmth rushing through her chest, she felt dissatisfied. The first sip did not provide the kick she was looking for and Sara began to wonder if she should instead head to a bar. An excellent idea. Sara determined that once finished with her pointless coffee she was going to get well and truly drunk. Eyes on her exit, she rose from her seat and gulped down the last of the drink. At this moment a figure came through the corridorPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

>>1792

Whatever reply she had in mind died away as she felt the warmth of the hand holding onto her wrist. It was not an unpleasant warmth, but it came as a surprise. “You are freezing,” the girl commented, and Sara felt her eyes watching her, studying her.

She’d never been this close to her before, and under any other circumstance it would have been a nice opportunity to try and figure out the strange girl who had interested her. But now she only wanted to get away as fast as possible. Here she was, standing in a café, bleeding all over the place from a self-inflicted knife-wound, and feeling, and probably looking, like she was recovering from a fever. Not the ideal way to make a first impression… “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Sara excused, cringing at the hoarseness in her voice.

“Let’s take a look at that hand,” the girl stated, motioning for them to sit down at one of the nearby tables. Meanwhile a barrista had been designed to clean-up duty, picking up bits of broken glass and drops of blood. “Sorry about the mess,” Sara excused, addressing the barrista and removing her sunglasses with her good hand. Her attention was, however, quickly focused on the girl who never smiled, as she began to unwrap the bloodstained bandage. Sarah silently dreaded the moment when she would see the knife-wound. Was the girl a doctor or nurse, or would she be able to tell it was self-inflicted? “It was a stupid mistake…” Sara began, nearly stuttering, as her palm was uncovered and the wound was exposed. Unreadable blue eyes watched her, she she noticed a light spattering of freckles she’d never noticed before on the girl’s face. A shudder went though her body, beginning with the hand and spreading all throughout her body as the girl’s index finger softly traced the length of the cut. She had long, delicate fingers, perfect for playing piano, Sara thought, watching those long, pale fingers touching her hand. The other girl’s touch felt oddly warm against her own, like she’d been sunbathing on a beach, and Sara had been outside on a cool autumn day. It was a strange, oddly pleasant contrast, though the dull headache and the embarrassing nature of the situation was everything but pleasant.

>>2616

Wow, care to share where you sourced them? Nice find.

>>2536

>I don't mind Blaire White.

Aye, Blaire seems pretty on the level, and Line Trap/Bailey Jay too, who is a big fan of cheesy B-movies/horror and Vincent Price. Bailey also did a retro horror hostess show as Shemalia, a homage to Vampira and Elvira some years ago.

Then you have individuals like the fellow in Canada who sued a beauty salon when they refused to wax his balls, and the “it’s Ma’am!” character.

>>2536

>>2537

You guys are too tolerant lol, fuck trannies. They belong in an asylum.

>>2540

> Line Trap/Bailey Jay

Unfamiliar with Bailey Jay.

>Then you have individuals like the fellow in Canada who sued a beauty salon when they refused to wax his balls, and the “it’s Ma’am!” character.

Yep. Blaire has gone after both of them.

>>2541

#notalltrannies

>>2544

Bailey/Line Trap actually has a Wiki article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bailey_Jay

I remember back in the good ol’ days on 4chan /b/ when anons were discussing if Line Trap was a guy or a girl, based on some photos of Line Trap attending some convention or something.

Found this Christmas edition of Film Fiasco on Vimeo. Not sure how many episodes they made of that show, but it is kinda fun, and Bailey appears to have a good sense of humour. Remember seeing a screencap of Bailey calling out some PC BS on Twitter as well.

>>2550

>Found this Christmas edition of Film Fiasco on Vimeo. Not sure how many episodes they made of that show, but it is kinda fun, and Bailey appears to have a good sense of humour.

Had it running for a while and it is quite /comfy/.

>>2004

>but was told “nah, it’ll be fine”.

Insanity isn't it. I was about to say your numbers had caught up to ours but we have more than doubled all of a sudden to around 50 cased that are acknowledged.

>Looks like it is all happening down in the capital for now.

Fark isn't this near where your ancestors lived?

https://mobile.twitter.com/WarsontheBrink/status/1235130899450277889

>Hospitals and school are among the last places you’d wanna hang around during an epidemic.

I know right? For now I am shit out of luck. They are not even talking about it at school now. One mention a month ago about some students in quarantine and that's it. I am swamped with planning, marking, and upcoming events while also expecting it stop at any moment.

>Have you started prepping for the apocalypse?

I am a terrible prepper. About enough to sustain me for a couple of weeks if rationing.

>It helps having something to occupy yourself with, right?

I suppose so. Though it has been draining my sleep. Most world streaming updates are in the middle of the night here.

>Any idea what is behind it? Some Chinese bio-weapon gone wrong? That South Korean “death cult” plotting to end the world by infecting everyone?

The South Korean death cult is straight out of a movie eh. Incredibly effective. 1 lady to over 5000 spanning the entire country.

The proposition that China accidentally released it is more than plausible considering not too long ago they left a crater in Tianjin.

>>2005

>I was about to say your numbers had caught up to ours but we have more than doubled all of a sudden to around 50 cased that are acknowledged.

Welp, per /pol/ looks like you have caught up to us now with 48.

>>2005

>>2006

Just heard the latest number here is up to 86 now. If this continues I am going full innawoods.

>Fark isn't this near where your ancestors lived?

>https://mobile.twitter.com/WarsontheBrink/status/1235130899450277889

Yeah, and just last month there was a massive outbreak of the flu; 310 students were home sick at the same time, at a school with 826 students in total: https://www.nrk.no/trondelag/massivt-influensautbrudd-i-trondheim-_-310-elever-syke-ved-samme-skole-1.14902663

>I am a terrible prepper. About enough to sustain me for a couple of weeks if rationing.

Guess it must be a lot harder to go off the grid/innawoods down there too, with all the creepy-crawlies you guys have down there, not to mention the high temperature probably makes it harder to preserve food.

>I suppose so. Though it has been draining my sleep. Most world streaming updates are in the middle of the night here.

Caught some of Mister Metokur’s latest streams about the outbreak, and it sounds like he’s got a similar fixation on the oubtreak like you, though I’m almost certain you’ve got him beat with that 4,4GB Corona folder.

Btw., back in the late 1890s/early 1900s Theodor Kittelsen did a number of illustrations for a book on the Black Death, and some of them feature original plague-death-chan! Her name is Pesta (Plague), and she carried a besom and a rake as she traveled the country; if she used a besom when she arrived at a farm she would kill everyone there, but if she used the rake a few would survive, escaping like leaves through the teeth of a rake.

“She covers the Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

Holy mother of based, the dyke gang isn't just a thought experiment anymore. After reading the claim on /tv/ that t.A.T.u. were faux lesbians I decided to investigate a bit and while it turns out that is true, one of the singers has a dyke gang mentality. She wouldn't accept a gay son ("a fag" like she said in the interview) and said it "isn't natural" but wouldn't mind a lesbian daughter and said girls with girls are "aesthetically nicer".

https://archive.is/7G0EH

Faggots on suicide watch.

They've jumped ahead to cycle 15 for some reason.

Cycle 16

Alas marathons keep getting deleted and I can never find Alison's cycle but I did find this compilation of scenes from cycle 17 Allstars in which Allison came back as a contestant.

And here's a poor quality compilation of all of her scenes from cycles 12 & 17.

>>378

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Dracula's Daughter is a pretty hot flick in its own way

>>1199 (checked)

IKR? I guess it more accurately reflects the terrible people of The L Word in S2 & S3.

>>1200

Guess the studio wanted someone who could bring more drama and tension to the show? No one wants to follow a happy, married couple I guess. Gotta have some playgirl picking up a new girl each episode and just assholes stiring up drama. Sad! Many such cases.

>>1145

<the woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

Hi butterfly, welcome to /sapphic/. I must admit I still haven't seen Caligula. Worth a watch then?

>>1147

It is really. From what I recall, the actors did real well with Tinto Brass, it comes off as campy at times, but I, and no doubt you've, suffered through a lot worse. Really nice set direction. Too bad that tv adaptation of I, Claudius didn't have half as much. It's no Fellini's Satyricon, but it's not as bad as some say. The plot is just about a mad man, so what can one expect?

>>209

In my fantasies, there was a love triangle brewing with a jealous young Elle trying, and succeeding, to steal Kstew's affections. Whereupon Dakonta decides how much she'd like to be with Kstew…

When didn't his happen?