Intense Lesbian Fanfiction, Part Three: That Escalated Quickly

Intense Lesbian Fanfiction is Autostraddle’s first original fiction, in three parts. It’s also the best thing that’s ever happened. Art by the brilliant Rory Midhani.


Chapter 8

It was September 13th, and in Austin, Texas, the musicians Tegan and Sara Quin were playing a show at a barbeque place. The two sat backstage in the venue’s green room over a laptop. The twins were on FACEinHOLE.com.

“Alright, now put my face in YOUR face!” said Tegan. Sara uploaded a picture of Tegan to the site, and it popped up in the frame of Sara’s face. The twins cracked up.

“It looks exactly the same!” squealed Tegan, “Our face is the same!”

The twins high-fived. Tegan walked across the room and sat in a worn velvet chair. As she sunk into the chair she sighed. Sara turned from the laptop and looked at Tegan.

“Something is wrong. What is wrong?”

“Just use your twin sense.”

“I can’t use the twin sense right now. Not before a show. It will use up too many electrolytes.”

“Then just drink some Gatorade.”

“No. Then I will sweat green on stage.”

“That doesn’t actually happen. It only happens in the ads.”

“I’m not going to risk it. I’m not going to drink Gatorade…or eat Gushers. Come on, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Tegan looked down. “I’m worried about her.”

“Who?”

“That lesbian antichrist Emily Dickinson wrote about! I’m worried about her! You felt the pang, I felt the pang, and then Ellen called… She’s out there Sara.”

“Relax. Jodie is taking care of it. And she has two Oscars. If you have two Oscars you’re incredible because it means the first one wasn’t a mistake.”

“Yeah, but Ellen says Jodie is a pussy. And Ellen is always right.” Tegan pulled a locket out from under her shirt and opened it up. On one side was a tuft of velvet, on the other was a picture of Ellen. Tegan stroked the velvet, then stroked Ellen. Sara looked at Tegan with a few different kinds of concern.

“Alright, how about this: see if you can get a photo of that chick and we’ll tell the guys at security not to let her in,” Sara said.

Tegan jumped up from her chair. “That is a great idea! I’ll go call Jodie now to see if she has a picture.”

Tegan grabbed her cell phone and hopped out of the room. The door closed behind her. Sara watched it for a few seconds then, from her shirt, pulled out her own locket. She opened it up. Inside was a picture of Tegan. Sara stroked the photo and whispered, “Don’t worry precious twin, I will keep you safe.” She was about to close the locket when she noticed something. She squinted at the picture.

“Wait. This is a photo of me.”


Derek and Ross were working security at the barbeque place and were hating it. When their boss told them Tegan and Sara were playing they both groaned because Tegan and Sara meant lesbians, and lesbians meant backpacks. And backpacks meant they would be spending all night with stupid little flashlights pushing through hundreds of lesbians’ bottomless pit backpacks.

“Man. Why can’t they all just carry purses. You can’t fit anything in those.” Derek said as he scanned the contents of one girl’s backpack; there was a bag of gummy bears, a flannel shirt, The Collected Poems of Elizabeth Bishop, tissues, Chapstick, and Bananagrams. Derek gave the girl a look when he found the Bananagrams.

“What, you worried you gonna get bored?” he asked her.

“No. And to answer your question we carry backpacks for that exact reason. You can’t fit jack shit in a purse. Lesbians have evolved to understand the practicality of backpacks. It’s the same reason we’re always in sensible shoes.” The girl twisted her leg to show Derek her Birkenstocks. Derek rolled his eyes and waved her past. As she walked inside, Tegan was hustling outside towards Derek and Ross. All the girls in line saw her and tried very hard — first, to not die, and second to keep cool. They all did a good job of not dying, but they all did a terrible job of keeping it cool. They all looked like robots that were specifically programmed to look uncomfortable by a master programmer. Tegan tapped Ross’s shoulder.

“Hey, hi, I’m Tegan, I’m playing tonight and we have a special security request.”

“Sure,” Ross said hesitantly.

“We want you to not let this girl in if she tries to enter.” Tegan handed Ross a photo of Blaze. Jodie had found the photo on a Smithie’s blog with the caption, “Discovered the purpose of life today.”

“Don’t let her in?” Derek asked, “Is she dangerous?”

Tegan thought for a second. “Yes. She is a murder. So if you see her. You should murder her.”

“Murder her?”

“Yes. Murder her until she dies.”

Ross cut in. “Look, we’re rent-a-cops, we can’t actually murder anyone,” he said firmly. Tegan looked sad. Ross continued, “We can detain her though if she is an actual criminal. Is she an actual criminal?”

“Yes!” Tegan said, “She, um, PIRATED MUSIC!”

Ross was not sold. Neither was Derek.

“That’s all?” Derek asked.

“Hey! Hey! You wouldn’t steal a car? Downloading. Pirated. Music. Is stealing!” Tegan said with the same unquestionable authority as a PSA.

“Alright, alright. Fine. We’ll get her,” said Derek. Tegan smiled and went back inside. Once she was through the door, all the girls let out their breath and started squawking, except for one girl. She quietly exited the line, and crossed the street towards a car idling outside the venue. She tapped on the window, and Louis lowered it.

“They have a photo of her. Tegan came out here and told security not to let her in.”

“Damn,” Louis said. “So we can’t just walk in through the front.”

“Was that really our plan?” asked Blaze from the backseat.

“Hi Blaze, what’s up?” said the girl leaned over the driver window, “Excited for-”

Before she could finish Louie rolled up the window.

“God, these girls are really helpful, but really annoying. I mean, I’ve had a big crush or two in my life before but nothing like this. ”

“The ones from Smith? They’re just being a bit clingy,” Blaze said, unaffected.

“No, they’re trying to be cool in front of you, but I keep catching them doing weird stuff. Like earlier today, they were all taking turns sucking on a Pepsi bottle you drank out of.”

Blaze shrugged. “Eh, I get it. One time I liked a girl so much I drew a pentagram on my trampoline in sidewalk chalk and tried to summon a demon that would possess her and make her like me.”

Louis looked at Blaze with intense concern that morphed into intense cognition.

“Blaze, call the Smith girls over. We need a favor from them.”


The Smith Girls (Dana, Kate, Katie, Sam, K, and Emily) did not think twice about their answer when Louis approached them on the quad to ask if they would be willing to be Blaze’s roadies. They immediately said yes, hopped in K’s Tahoe and followed Blaze and Louis to Texas. It seems absolutely ludicrous that six smart girls would ditch their five-star education to follow a musician they saw once, but such was the world-ending power Blaze possessed.

The girls, whenever asked by Louis to do something, did not tell him no, or even wonder why they were doing it. So as they chalked a pentagram on the blacktop just outside the venue door, none of them had even a doubt of what they were doing. Meanwhile, at the door, Ross and Derek watched in intense concern, but were not confused; to them, this was perfectly normal lesbian behavior. Their attention was now split between the backpacks, and the “priestesses.”

“Goddammit if we have to deal with a demon tonight we better get paid time and a half,” said Ross. Derek nodded in agreement as he handed back a black and brown Herschel. Suddenly, there came a shout from the pentagram. Derek and Ross looked over.

“I SUMMON THE AMON, DEMON OF LOVE, WHO WE FOUND THROUGH A BASIC GOOGLE SEARCH!” shouted Dana. The other girls stood with their heads bowed around the pentagram and hummed. Beside the entrance, Louis and Blaze ducked into the line and pushed their way through holding Blaze’s equipment. Nobody noticed them sneak pass.

Inside the building, Louis and Blaze booked it. They dashed through the venue and smashed against a door that said “BACKSTAGE”. They sprinted down a brightly lit hall searching every door for the words “green room.” As they ran they breathlessly spoke.

“They should be going on…soon so their room will be open,” Blaze said.

“Got it…Once we get in there we need to get everything thing set as fast as we can if we want to go on by intermission,” said Louis. The two slid around a corner, lost their balance for a second, recovered, and continued running. At the end of the hall they could see an opening leading to stage, halfway up from that was the green room. They burst inside and threw down the equipment. For the next fifteen minutes the two briskly connected wires and calibrated instruments. Through the door, left slightly ajar, Blaze and Louis kept tabs on the throbbing beat coming from down the hall. When it suddenly stopped, Blaze and Louis looked at each other. They grabbed Blaze’s stuff and stepped outside.

Walking down out of the backstage were none other than Tegan and Sara. When Blaze saw them she couldn’t help but get a little bit giddy. Blaze waved cutely at the twins. Tegan began to benignly wave back when Sara suddenly realized who she was.

“AVERT YOUR EYES, PRECIOUS TWIN!” Sara screamed as she squeezed her eyes shut and half-grabbed-half-covered Tegan’s face. With her eyes shut tight, Sara addressed Blaze, who was now looked a bit dejected.

“HOW DID YOU GET BACK HERE?” Sara hissed and pulled Tegan into her chest.

“We walked through the front. Look, I’m a big fan of yours and it’s an honor-”

“An honor to ruin our career? Fuck you!” Sara continued as Tegan trembled in her arms.

“Yeah, if you’re such a big fan why are you doing this to us?” asked a sad, shaky Tegan. Blaze thought about this.

“Well isn’t it every fan’s occult dream to surpass their idol?” Blaze mused.

“NO! IT’S TO TOUCH THEIR IDOL’S BUTT OR FUCK THEM, THEN MAKE THEM BREAKFAST IN THE MORNING,” Sara shouted.

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that! I genuinely looked up to you guys! All those benefit concerts, and…and waiting to get married ’til its legal everywhere!”

“Oh shut up. We hate you, Blaze. We hate you so much we’re not even waiting ’til gay marriage is legal to get married,” Sara started.

“Yeah, we’re waiting ’til science can clone wooly mammoths so we can ride them down the aisle,” Tegan finished. “We figured those two things would happen around the same time.”

Blaze looked confused. “Is that some kind of ancient Canadian tradition?”

“No it’s just hella cool!” said Sara while flailing in frustration. “Now get lost Blaze! The fans don’t want you, they want us!”

“No!” screamed Blaze, a little hurt. “They don’t know what they want because I haven’t given it to them yet! Now get out of my way!”

“No! Stop!” cried Sara as she threw her arms in the direction of Blaze. Blaze easily dodged her limbs.

“Hit her, Sara!” whined Tegan.

“I’m trying, but I can’t see her!” Sara retorted.

“Then open your eyes!”

“I can’t look at her! I’ll fall in love!”

Blaze stood and watched the two for a second then turned to Louis and said, “They look like the twins from The Shining if they grew up to be emo and got sprayed with mace.” Louis laughed.

“Come on lets go,” said Blaze and the two hopped by the twins, easily dodging their punches.

Blaze stepped on stage with her guitar and the audience started buzzing. The Smith girls, stationed throughout the venue started quietly hyping the crowd by laying out passive statements like, “Who is this? She looks hot. And talented!”

Blaze introduced herself.

“Hello ladies. I know you’re all here to see Tegan and Sara, but after tonight you’ll forget both of their names and only remember mine, which is Blaze.”

The Smith girls cheered raucously, but the rest of the made a face like they had just heard a really bad pick up line. Backstage, Louis sighed into his hands. Realizing that she was off to a bad start, Blaze motioned Louis to start the track and spoke into the microphone one more time.

“Blaze, my name is Blaze.”

Louis started the track then continued sighing into his hands. But the rocky start did not hinder Blaze; she began playing “Yo Girl” and the crowd was mesmerized. In no time, the song had vibrated through every girl’s sternum and took out a mortgage on her heart. The audience was going bananas by the end of the song. Blaze looked backstage at Louis, who was no longer sighing into his hands. He gave her a thumbs up to keep going, but before she could, Tegan and Sara ran past him wearing very thick pairs of sunglasses. They pushed aside Blaze and grabbed the mic.

“Lesbians!” cried Sara, “Do not listen to this girl! She is evil!”

The crowd booed so loudly the microphone was drowned out. They began reaching into their backpacks and throwing various found objects on stage. Blaze was laughing to the side as the twins tried to calm the audience. Tegan got hit in the teeth with a set of Banagrams and Sara got hit with all seven Harry Potter books.

“What the fuck? All seven books? You just carry these around?” shouted Sara.

“I was reading them while I waited outside FOR YOU. BUT CLEARLY I WAS WAITING FOR THE WRONG ACT!” shouted a girl near the front of the audience. A girl beside her shouted, “GET OFF THE STAGE!”

“Who, us?” asked Tegan who was not keeping up.

“YES, YOU,” shouted the second girl. Blaze, meanwhile was standing to the side of the stage leaning on her guitar and snickering. She made eye contact with one of the Smith minions and nodded. She nodded back.

“KILL THEM!” shouted the Smithie. Blaze looked alarmed, but the crowd cheered. They began pushing at the barrier between them and the stage while security did their best to keep them back. The audience turned into scrappy, scrappy animals as they clawed and snarled their way up towards the stage.

“Quick!” Sara shouted to Tegan, “to the promotional helicopter!”

Tegan jumped into the steel light tower and began to scramble up. Sara followed. As the crowd reached the stage, Louis ran over to Blaze and shielded her. The audiences reached the base of the tower of which Tegan and Sara had climbed halfway. Tegan reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny device that looked like a garage door opener. She held it straight above her head and pressed the little button. Then continued climbing upwards.

Fanfic_Chapter 8_Tegan and Sara escape via helicopter

Illustration by Rory Midhani

Suddenly, a great thrumming filled the venue. The audience members who had climbed the tower stopped and looked up. The place began to vibrate to the unknown beat. There was a huge crash above the stage as a huge part of the ceiling fell in. Through the newly created hole, a helicopter was hovering. The side of it had pictures of Tegan and Sara and read, “TEGAN AND SARA: CLOSER, IN STORES TODAY.” A ladder dropped out of the cab and Tegan and Sara (having mounted the light rack parallel to the ground) ran to it and climbed it. As they scrambled into the cab, the chopper flew away. Tegan and Sara took their seats and put on headsets.

“Man. That was a close call,” said Sara.

“Yeah. Just like in the Fanfiction we wrote about ourselves. Remember that?” asked Tegan.

“Oh yeah! What was it called?”

“Sara and Tegan.”

“Yeah that’s right!”

“Anyway, this is bad. We need to tell Ellen.”

“Yes. I think it’s time for you know what.”

The twins looked at each other and at the same time said “Lesbian Congress.” The helicopter continued west, away from the venue where Blaze was taking the world one step closer to the lesbian apocalypse.

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F. Sanger is a comedienne in NY. She now has more in common with E.L. James than she is willing to admit.

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23 Comments

    • Thumb up 7

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      but… it’s fiction. fiction features characters who do and say terrible things all the time. fictional characters kill people and offend people and hurt people and believe really really terrible things. jillian michaels, in this story, is cissexist. hell, she’s probs cissexist in real life too! that doesn’t mean the author is, or that this piece is. if i only read stories about characters who never did or said anything that offended me, there wouldn’t be anything left to read, you know? i guess what i’m saying is “nice instance of cissexism in the jillian michaels bit. very smooth.” seems less accurate then “way to be cissexist, fictional jillian michaels! very smooth. btw, your show sucks and i hate it.”

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        Where would you draw the line, then? Is fiction as a genre excused from perpetuating problematic behavior, because the people who do it are fictional? I have seen excellent critiques of how characters in shows like Glee and The L Word perpetuate systems of power and engage in problematic behavior. But at the end of the day, the writers were always held responsible. Why? Because fictional characters do not spring into being with fully-formed personalities and privileges–they must be created by their writers.

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        The thing is, if Jillian Michaels’ actions or words were meant to point out her cissexism or create dialogue around the issue, that would be cool, but I don’t think they are. If you read the first two parts of this series, you will see, there are many characters/interactions that may be “satire,” but are also perpetuating negative stereotypes and hierarchies of power that affect people on a daily basis. It’s amazing to me that, even on this website, there is a pretty big group of people going around saying, “It’s just comedy! Calm down!” Sure, fiction is not real. But it still affects people and their views on the world so we are still entitled to expect it to be responsible. Does the author have to take our opinions into account? No.
        As Katherine Phelps writes, “Comedy is a remarkably powerful tool for influencing public opinion. It can be used to raise people’s awareness; it can also be used to mock and belittle the disempowered. As they say in comic books: with great power comes great responsibility.” There’s another really good quote explaining this perspective that I reblogged on Tumblr and now can’t find anywhere sadly. But it’s a thing, trust me.

  1. Thumb up 6

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    I know this must have been written way before, but I kept waiting for Ellen Page to be hidden in the closet of the hotel room.

    Anyway, this was great. All the jokes were hilarious, all the caricatures of celesbians were spot on, and it really was intense! I couldn’t stop reading it. Beautiful

  2. Thumb up 4

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    oh goddess, the austin part was so real! I definitely went to a tegan and sara show at stubb’s bbq last year, and tegan walked by as I was waiting in the security line… whatever y’all, my Herschel is grey, and I didn’t even bring it that night OKAY

    also, this is the first fan fic i’ve ever read so *thanks autostraddle*

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