#i’m such a lesbian

[moonahsrobin]

She does not age!

[yunmaobao]

michael myers if he was hot

(based on the bishoujo horror figure)

[foxieskull]

in my defense, i love women

[meanbitchydyke]

You ever see a dyke and feel your own heart melting

[anglers1mp]

lesbians

I love lesbians. I love Bi Women. I love Pan Women.

I love Femme Women.

I love Butch/Masc Women.

I. Fucking. Love. Women.

This is a credit to the very hot alt girl I want to be with- don’t worry I asked her to the movies and she said yes!! I might score a Pansexual girlfriend out of this?!??! WISH ME THE LUCK OF LESBIANS AND THE QUEER COMMUNITY

[an-adhd-infested-nerd]

Shout out to women with ginger hair all of you are so fucking gorgeous

[immortalspacelesbian]

sylvia doing the 🤟🏻 sign: a trilogy

[snorkyuu]

does anyone else get really flustered and blush when the person you like is being nerdy and talking abt smth they enjoy like. wow you have my full attention run me through the process more/gen

[abbyslev]

oh nothing, was just wondering! (i want to know everything about her, everything she likes, all her favorite things, her favorite memories, i want to know every little thing and i can’t get enough of her, no matter how long i’ve known her)

[moonahsrobin]

Omg look at her go

[sapphosdickandballs]

5 sexiest things a woman could wear

Full suit of armor

Just an oversized teeshirt

blood of her enemies

leather jacket

Super cool sword on her back

[anglers1mp]

My Goodness

I am so gay. There’s this girl that I spent the day with yesterday, at my other friend’s house. She looked me straight in the eyes, brushed her hair back, and legit said “ You’re hot can I give you a kiss?” MY GOD IM NOT EVEN HOT WTF!! I had to tell her I only do that when I’m in a romantic relationship with someone and she was like “okay okay I got that! I’m still up for making out later tbh.” God damn was I being flirted with??? I’ve never had that many girlfriends only two cause I’m lonely, but seriously guys was I being flirted with?

[femmeofhearts]

i hope (know) this is how everyone who has ever fumbled me feels

[urmumhaha]

I wish butch n femme balls existed. Not to b a fucking sap n a massive dyke but wow. Ugh even. Just wanna wear a gown n stilettos n have my honey greet me w a bouquet before we leave n we wear matching or complimentary jewelry n spend hours on my hair and makeup to impress. N then when we get there my honey will spin me around the room for a brief dance before grabbing something to drink, wine for me n whiskey for her, as we chat w other dykes n celebrate butchfemmeness. Or whatever

[malisbutterflies]

“No, trust me, I get it,” my voice comes out fake and squeaky. “Sometimes I wish people could see me how I see myself. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows and blue skies. My brain never stops buzzing with questions, and I can’t find any answers. The harder I try to ignore them, the louder they buzz, the more they fly out of control, it’s like a messy heap of paperwork. I try to sort through it all but there’s always that one pile of paper that I have no idea what to do with. And it just keeps growing endlessly, sheet over sheet, stack over stack, but never any answers.”

I don’t know if it’s a trick of the iridescent moonlight, but I see the slightest glint of light on her cheek, a thin, crooked, glowing line streaking down her face.

I rest my hand on her shoulder and turn her so she’s looking at me. Still, she diverts her eyes, reluctant to meet mine. I touch her chin, and my finger lingers on the small dimple there, the one she’s always hated, as my thumb gently turns her face to be level with mine. I let my hands trace her jaw: soft, cold, wet skin. My fingers dance over her cheekbones, softly sculpted, and the tips of my fingers pick the salt up off her face, but her eyes continue to drip, her earthy eyes glazed over, almost black in the darkness.

“It’s just me,” I whisper. “It’s just me. Let it out.”

The breeze whistles through the rustling trees as they begin to shake free of their leaves: shriveled up, and crumpled, each a similar dampened shade of red to the other. I feel her begin to shiver under my touch, as her eyes meet mine. I see the child that hides behind the curtains, afraid to set foot outside, afraid to be vulnerable, afraid to be abandoned.

I pull the flimsy felt cover tighter around us as she lays her head on my shoulder, and I bury my face in her hair. I hear quiet, muffled sniffles, and I feel a single tear trail down my cheek, and we sit there, holding each other up until all we can hear is the rustle of the branches and the beating of our hearts.

She smells like French vanilla and coconut and the slightest hint of coffee, and as her warm scent coaxes me into a sense of safety, my eyelids begin to droop…

[an-adhd-infested-nerd]

Chappell Roan I’m in love with you