SaFTH week seems very popular so it will definitely be going ahead! I’ll begin sorting prompts and dates soon but for now: Welcome! This is the account running Sapphic from the Hip Week 2025, and I’m Madge! Feel free to do as few or as many prompt as you would like, and post the work on the day of the prompt. Fanart, fanfic, playlists, songs and edits are all an option, as well as anything else you can imagine!
SaFTH Week will take place from the 25th-31st of August
Prompts:
25th - AU: university AU, accidental marriage AU, flowershop/tattoo parlour AU, time loop AU, hero/villain AU, coffee shop AU
26th - Domestic: baking/cooking, moving day, building Ikea furniture, hurt/comfort
27th - Rare pairs: canonically straight, hit ‘em with the transfemme beam, crossover
31st - get creative: Record player, Lipstick, feminism, beach, saucy, flowers
Rules:
No AI generated or RPF content. This is a blanket ban and will result in blocking.
Don’t hate on anyone or their work (this one is kinda a given but I’m putting it just in case!)
No irrelevant submissions: the piece has to be sapphic ship centric
Do your best to submit things on the correct day (this won’t be strict though)
Tag @sapphicfromthehipweek on your post so that this account can reblog it. For fic, playlists and edits, post the link here on tumblr with these tags.
If you don’t have a tumblr account but still want your content to be shared, it can be posted on this blog with credits!
Follow this account to see everyone’s creations and to get information about the event like dates and prompts! I’m super excited! Rb this post for more ppl to see and be able to join in!
I didn't post what I planned for the final day of safth week because I wasn't satisfied with it but I still wanted to say a big thank you @sapphicfromthehipweek for organising all of this it was so much fun <3
And here's a little Esmeralda because she turned out cute
@sapphicfromthehipweek day 1 - annabelle/butch, 1500 words
"Can we run away?" Butch whispers in the quiet din of forest as Annabelle cries in their arms. The weight of the church bells ringing in anticipation for the next hour stops their breathing moreso than the tightness of the rough corset they were shoved into. "They can't make you do this."
~I-I~
please, darling, can we run from the inevitable? the chase isn't like the games we used to play
read on ao3
"Oh, Butch, love…" She's scarily beautiful despite the tear tracks and fake smile haunting across her face. "I'm so sorry."
~I-I~
"Can we run away?" Butch whispers in the quiet din of forest as Annabelle cries in their arms. The weight of the church bells ringing in anticipation for the next hour stops their breathing moreso than the tightness of the rough corset they were shoved into. "They can't make you do this."
Her dress is white. It's muddy, dusted from their hiding spot in the gardens. But it's there, clinging onto her form, a horrible reminder of the things to come. The leaves on the locust trees curl down and fall around them, the trail ends of the fragile summer disappearing into the misty midday air. Even with the glowing sun and the sweat, the day feels eerily cold.
"We can still do it, right Annabelle? We can run off. Or hide somewhere, in Samantha's garden mayb—"
Annabelle lets out a resigned breath, clouding over the grass and the ivy crawling across it. "We can't stop it, Butch."
"Plea—" Butch starts, voice breaking.
"We can try though."
Their shoulders fall back down. "We can?" Annabelle smirks and nods, still in their arms with a soiled dress and tired eyes.
"Let's run away." She laughs, a sound like birdsong. "Leave that fucker behind, I don't want him anyways." Grabbing Butch's hands in hers, she stands up, pulling back and chuckling as if they were kids again, meeting in the gardens for the very first time.
Butch grips on tighter. They don't want to ever let go. "Do we have a plan?" They fondly ask, stepping up and swinging Annabelle around into a dip.
Annabelle only giggles harder. "Did we have a plan raiding the kitchens for the first… what, ten times we did?" She clutches Butch's corset with a newly free hand, still holding, so close, so scared of leaving. "Course not, love. Now, are we running or not?"
They roll their eyes, pulling her closer. "In a moment, dear."
As their lips collide, Annabelle doesn't think about the other pair, the murky, alcohol-stained ones she's been forced to taste before. She only thinks about Butch, about the gorgeous being in front of her, the sickly sweet taste of hard work and childhood memories and love, true love.
They run, hand in hand, through the gardens of the keep, far past the church, deep into nooks and crannies memorised since they were kids playing cops and robbers in the shrubbery. They had always been the robbers. Samantha and Egbert enjoyed being the cops more than enough anyways.
Butch only thinks about lessening her pain. And the dread flowing through their veins, the fear that this could be the last time and they could never know until it's far, far too late. The taste of chaos and flowers and their partner in crime.
~I-I~
They'd both made hideouts. Their "secret parts" of the garden — in reality just as accessible as any other places, but in games they were like treasures. Bushes lining between trees of yew, planters filled to the edges with roses and red champions, hyacinths and asphodel. Admittedly basic in comparison with the large arches and paths inside twisting woods in the backs, but it was home to them. Practical, fun, all they could want as a group of young kids.
Annabelle and Butch dash together, crash landing onto a vine-covered, overgrown bench surrounded on three sides with creeping willows. They laugh into each other, breath mixing in the thin, cold summer's air. It feels like the sweet breeze of nostalgia.
"It doesn't feel right being here, does it?" Butch jokes, glancing around the green and the red of the garden. "We weren't allowed here normally, were we?"
"Yeah, well, I did anyways." She laughs, swinging an arm around Butch as they get closer together on the hickory.
Butch stares at her, mouth hanging open in a tilt of a fond smile. "You did?!"
"You didn't know?"
"Course not love, you're a good damn robber, that's what you are." They move even closer as if magnetised, "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you out, you sneaky little…"
Annabelle laughs, and Butch laughs back and for a moment they both forget about the clouds obscuring the sky, about the life laid out ahead of them, of the dreams and hopes and aspirations laid out in front of them that weren't their own, were never their own, held up like marionettes on strings by the whims of the crown.
"I thought—" She chokes out through tears and laughter, "I thought yo—"
A voice, a different one, cuts across the scene as they tear themselves apart from each other, hands cut from the brambles and thorns lining the sides of their hideout.
"Annabelle."
She turns, looking up at the figure. "Chancellor." She says, rolling her shoulders and straightening her frame.
The Chancellor only spares a disdainful glance to Butch, her eyes lingering on the dirt across both of their clothes. She sighs. "You're needed."
They look at each other as she walks away. Butch cups Annabelle's cheek.
"I'll always be here for you." They whisper.
Annabelle gets up from her seat, taking a step after the Chancellor. She looks back. "I love you, Butch."
"I love you too."
Everything is so white, so horribly, garishly white. Their corset chokes them alive as they watch the clock tick down until the next hour. Fifteen minutes remaining, then ten, then five. They could still stop it all, if they like.
~I-I~
They don't move. Their mother's hand rests on their leg, blissfully unaware of the aches through Butch's entire body.
People in the stands hold bouquets, still so white, poppies and periwinkles and hyacinths and cistus and chickweed, all white, and it hurts, it hurts to look at it and know that a whole colour is about to be ruined for the rest of their lifetime.
Four minutes.
Butch isn't even a best anything at the wedding. They all saw no need, only the higher nobility could do so. Butch wasn't as high up as they liked to pretend.
Three minutes.
They're scared. The vicar, the man who soon will take their love away from her forever comes on stage, and calls for silence. The room turns quiet in the blink of an eye.
Two minutes.
The vicar begins his speech, reading off of the podium in front of him. Butch doesn't think they can be "beloved" anymore.
One minute.
He slowly looks up from his book and instructs everybody to direct their attention to the doors. And people do, the air thick with anticipation, heavy breaths, and, for Butch, fear.
The church bells chime twelve.
Henry, or so Butch was told his name, strides in, high and mighty, a stature of a man who thinks himself a god. His suit is green, like the scales of a snake. Butch tries so hard to not jump out of the seat at him as he smiles. It's one of the first times her self-restraint has actually worked.
He stands at the podium. The vicar looks at him for a moment, letting the crowd linger their gazes even if for only a second. He breathes in.
Butch blinks, and suddenly the doors creak open again, and Annabelle steps out, dress so painfully white, every trace of their day earlier scrubbed off of her clothes and her features. Jewellery covers her neck and her arms, and the finishing touch is the fake smile plastered on her face like it is a part of the outfit. It probably is.
As Annabelle gets to the podium, Butch swallows, their eyes squeezing shut. Their mother taps their leg, and leans in. "Don't you want to see this? Your friend's getting married!"
They force a grin then turn back to the stage, failing in their attempts not to shake. She isn't getting married to me, though. She doesn't have a choice.
The vicar speaks, the ticking of the clock echoing above, now long past twelve, and as he looks back up again, Butch knows it is far, far too late. Their autonomy was stripped from them long ago. They never had a choice to begin with, other than… not to love.
"Does anybody have any objections as to why these two should not be wed?" The vicar asks.
Butch holds their peace with tired eyes.
They fiddle with the hellebore in their hair. Scandal, they laugh to themselves, as memories of hidden nights studying in the library with Annabelle, their Annabelle, come rushing back. They liked symbolism. Now it just returned to tear out their own heart.
As Annabelle shakes, and is forced to lean in to the man in front of her, Butch watching her life slowly fade away, they spot a splash of orange, a zinnia, tucked in Annabelle's hair.
At least now they know they won't be forgetten as their heart bleeds from their chest like a mourning dove.
Clarissa gets married, and Amanda descends into Wonderland.
Amanda’s two bottles deep. It doesn’t matter that she’ll be over Clarissa tomorrow, as she’s already promised herself. She whines and sniffles and Ethel taps at her sooty tears.
The first warning sign should have been the grin creeping over Ethel’s face. “Oh, deary, I wish I could help. Would you like me to help? Would you like that?”
Day 6 for @sapphicfromthehipweek : Party!
(considering my main offering this week has been romantic fluff, double-check the tags on this one! bon appetit!)
I’m going to answer ppl/ reblog the last few fics tommorow when I have the time but thank you so much 💜💜💜 I’ve loved organising this week and getting the incredible chance to see what everyone created (getting tagged too so I could see everything!) and be convinced for new ships (gemmadonna and esmanda have defo caught my eye) and just to see the love this fandom has for sapphic ships, which you don’t often get to see in fandom spaces and not in the incredible quantity I’ve seen here!! Thank you guys so much 💜💜💜💜
The day that Butch had gifted her the record, Annabelle had run into their arms and hugged them until they had to drop her because they couldn't breathe.
Pure Annabutch fluff for the soul <3
{song: heaven is a place on earth by Belinda Carlisle}
[1406 words]
Read here on ao3 or under the cut!
The day that Butch had gifted her the record, Annabelle had run into their arms and hugged them until they had to drop her because couldn’t breathe. It was instantly her favourite record, and when she insisted on playing and replaying it Butch couldn’t help but feel a bit proud that the album they’d bought was her favourite.
Butch also loved the album, not because they cared much for music but because it reminded them of Annabelle every time they heard it playing from the living room when they visited her house, and every time they heard it play in the shopping mall or leisure centre.
They felt lightheaded every time they thought of Annabelle - even though they weren’t uselessly pining anymore, they weren’t any less in love with her as their girlfriend - and hearing her favourite songs reminded Butch of the way Annabelle would sing and dance, and how beautiful she was when she let herself get carried away by the melody.
*
Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?
Ooh, heaven is a place on earth
It was their first real date - not robbing a bank, not walking aimlessly through a local park, not spending nights awake and whispering to each other until the sun rose and they would fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
Mr Parker had insisted on giving them a ‘proper first date’ that he would organise and they’d all landed on a restaurant date. Unfortunately, there weren’t any good restaurants in town that would be nice (or safe) to go on a date in so he’d decided to organise it himself in their house. He brushed off any concerns about his ‘incredible’ cooking, and the two had resigned themselves to an evening of eating overcooked pasta - it would only be bearable because they were together.
The table in front of Butch had a large white cloth draped over it and a vase of blood red roses in the centre, and they thought absentmindedly that they really had to thank him for setting it all up. Between the dimmed lights, the quiet music and the flickering candles, the atmosphere was incredible but the only thing in the room that they were really focused on was the girl sitting across from them.
Annabelle was gorgeous. She wore a bright red dress that the two had picked out together a few days prior and had a matching red lip - which, Butch thought, made her smile look even more beautiful. They’d never seen her wear bold makeup like it before (and, quite honestly, didn’t know where she’d gotten it from) but after the dinner was over they were going to politely request that she did it more often because god, it was making them blush.
They say in heaven, love comes first
We’ll make heaven a place on earth
“How’re ya feeling, handsome?”
Butch stared at her dumbly for a few more seconds before replying.
“Your pa’s done a real good job with the setup here! I’m- yeah, I’m feelin’ good.” They smiled shyly and glanced down at the table for a split second.
“You’re not nervous are ya Butch?”
“Nervous? Well, when you’re as beautiful as you are tonight Annie it’s hard not t’ be.”
Annabelle grinned at their response, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing up. Careful to not let her hair near any of the candles, she leaned across the table and planted a small kiss on Butch’s nose and watched in satisfaction as their blush only deepened.
“Annie! You can’t just do that to a person!” Butch exclaimed indignantly, albeit quietly because they didn’t want Mr Parker to them.
“Sorry Butch, I think I jus’ got too lost in your eyes.” She giggled.
Butch giggled quietly at their girlfriend’s antics, watching as Annabelle tilted her head and smiled to herself.
“Y’know, sometimes I think that I love you even more every time I see ya.” she said softly, barely audible over the music in the background.
“I think I feel the same ‘bout you Annie,” Butch almost-whispered, just loud enough for her to hear them, “I feel like I’m falling for you all over again every day. I wouldn’t trade the feelin’ for the world.”
Ooh, heaven is a place on earth
Before Annabelle could respond, her dad walked in with their meals - predictably, two plates of rigatoni and tomato sauce - and served the two. He’d put a few basil leaves and some parmesan on each dish, a touch that Butch appreciated if only because it made the dinner feel more ‘official’, like something they might find in an actual restaurant.
“Thank you Mr Parker.” Butch obliged.
“Thanks papa,” Annabelle echoed, “love you.”
“Love you too Annabelle, and have a lovely evening you two. I’ll give you some space, if you need me I’ll be upstairs.”
“Alright pa!” she replied impatiently, shooing him away.
“Just make sure you stay out of trouble.” He warned as he walked towards the stairwell.
“We will!” Butch promised, grinning at Annabelle.
*
They two spent the rest of the evening chattering while they ate, making stupid jokes and singing together, content just being in each other’s company. Inevitably, the evening ended and dusk came and went.
*
The sky outside was dark. Butch looked out of the small window and into Annabelle’s garden, where they saw a glimpse of the full moon.
“Annie,” they whispered, “do you want to stargaze together?”
She looked deep into Butch’s eyes in the dim light of the room, and nodded her head softly.
“That sounds lovely, Butch.”
When the night falls down
I wait for you to come around
And the world’s alive
With the sounds of kids on the street outside
As they wandered outside, both of them had their eyes transfixed on the sky above. Thousands of stars glowing bright white against the inky black background, so intricate and perfectly placed, a brief and beautiful glimpse into an entire universe.
Butch gazed up in awe, slowly taking in the sight before them. They realised, quite suddenly, that even with a whole galaxy laid out before them for the first time in their life they would rather be just where they were. With Annabelle.
They look slightly to their side, glancing over at her and revelling in her awed expression. Annabelle was transfixed on the sky, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide in shock of its excellence.
Butch was content to watch Annabelle’s face morph from shock to wonder to something with a hint of fear and back again, simply taking joy in seeing her face wear so much expression. They stayed like that for a while, until Annabelle eventually noticed her partner.
“Butch! Look at t’ stars! They're so magical, they look like summat right out of a story. They remind me of you a little.”
When you walk into the room
You pull me close and we start to move
And we're spinnin’ with the stars above
And you lift me up in a wave of love
Butch wrapped her in a tight hug in lieu of a response, only letting go when Annabelle squirmed out of their grip.
“Butch, let's stargaze. It would be just like in those movies,” she giggled, “we could be just like Lucy and George.”
Butch sighed, exasperated by Annabelle’s infatuation with terrible romance movies, but gave up on their annoyance quickly and laughed along with Annabelle. It would be nice to be just like the couples in movies.
They let themselves be pulled along by their wrist, further into Annabelle’s garden. Their shoes were already wet with dew and they were nearly shivering from the cold, but they didn't protest when she laid down on the lawn and quietly lay down next to her.
Butch breathed out slowly, letting their heartbeat sync with Annabelle's and watching their breath condense in the cold air and drift away above them. They gently took hold of her hand, almost letting themself get lost in the stars.
A year ago, if you'd asked them they would've said that they could never comprehend something as vast as the universe but now, with Annabelle by their side, they felt like they were maybe beginning to understand things that were larger than their life.
I've been meaning to write this letter to you since you left, but I don't imagine you would react very well to it. I'm not sure I will ever send this to you anyway.
But, as I stared at the stars above tonight, a year since your departure, I was reminded your eyes and the way they sparkled when you got excited. As I walked through the wood surrounding my lonesome home, I was reminded of your laughter and the way it made the leaves dance.
Today I was reminded of you, how much I miss you.
Ever since I met you, when my ex-husband had you kidnapped and tied up in our old home, my life had changed. I was happier, and I hope you were too.
The months we had together was the best months of my centuries long life and I appreciate that you were there for me when I needed you the most. It was difficult for me to sign the divorce agreement, but you sat by my side as I did.
I just wanted to say thank you for that.
But, you chose your side. And it wasn't me.
I still have nightmares about it and the way your face showed little remorse about the stake you lifted to my heart, about the way you ran off back to America.
There are some days I wish you did it.
I have lived a life that was far too long, I would have been happy if it was you who were to end it.
Sometimes I imagine you sneaking through my open window and impaling me with that same stake.
I'm sorry that I was never good enough for you and I hope that wherever you are, you are happy. Maybe you are happy with someone new.
I almost forgot, I will be making my way to Glasgow next week for an event at Wayne Manor. I've got a strange feeling in my gut that it might change my life.
Maybe I'll meet someone, too. They might not be as lovely as you were, though.
I'll miss you until the day I die one final time, my love,
@sapphicfromthehipweek day 7! i haven’t had time to finish the work i was planning, so instead have some butchabelle gun designs i never posted :D
thanks so much for hosting this, it’s been great fun both as a creator and a spectator (specter)!!!
this is the full work the designs r based on :) made the day the lf came out n my art has improved (a bit) since, please excuse the whack anatomy and weird clothing choices lmaooo
i can’t draw humans for the life of me so just imagine that amanda’s lock screen is of clarissa holding up a peace sign grinning up at the camera while amanda looks down at her lovingly.
