#mostly lesbians

[verthanthi]

Look I’m trying but I think my followers might like me and now I don’t know what to do

You guys do know you're supposed to reblog things, right

[ramblesbiab]

still can't believe they had the audacity to put a trans furry this cunty into the gay kiss episode. Arcane is feeding sapphics of every kind

[alexandriad]

back to the antiquity with these ancient grecian gal pals

[idolomantises]

If Monsters and Girls ever gets a tv show my only request is that it doesn’t become that kind of show where a male character with a small role somehow overshadows the female cast.

And you WILL draw Yuri

[iheartsteve0704]

Simply CAN NOT get over the look on Rio’s face when Agatha walks away. She clearly wanted to kiss Agatha but couldn’t stand not telling her the truth a moment longer. Agatha is her scar. A constant reminder of all that’s been broken.

[a-map-of-gays]

More queer media that doesn't focus on being bullied and harrassed. More queer media that doesn't centre around cis gay men. More queer media that features aros and aces. More queer media that isn't about suffering. More queer media that has genderqueer people. More queer media with characters who use multiple sets of pronouns. More queer media that has supportive parents (especially fathers). More queer media that isn't about wanting to be 'normal'. More queer media that represents all the facets of drag. More queer media that represents the whole queer community

[spottedgardeneelstan]

i know that binghe being extremely jealous isn’t “normal” or “sane” but i’m honestly on his side here. like his concerns that sqq will be stolen from him are pretty rational. i really think that almost every scum villain character, in the event that sqq would want to papapa with them, would agree almost immediately. sqq is the xianxia equivalent of helen of troy.

[aliosne]

Saw a post about working class butches in physical labour jobs and wanted to make my own, so: I love you butches who do childcare or early education. I love you butch nurses. I love you butch house cleaners and janitorial staff. I love you service industry butches. I love you butches who do sex work. I love you working class butches who do “feminine” jobs you are cool as hell

[rhadamantthys]

been catching up on all the animated star wars shows i didn’t watch as a kid

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

💖✨ Just a yandere woman CEO obsessed with her adorable assistant <3 ✨💖

[⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Not proofread I just wanted to post something because I miss you guys :3, LESBIANS this is a woman loving woman fic! Reader is portrayed as a female, 🔞 gets a little raunchy 18+ near the end with some kissing and touching but you don’t go too far, yandere, some talk of an affair but not regarding Reader or our lovely Ms. CEO]

Imagine an incredibly strict older woman who has learned to leave love and men in the past. She’s been running this company all on her own for several years now, it’s her life’s work and her pride and joy. She’s married to her work since she wouldn’t want to be married to anything else at the moment. Men only disappoint, so what's the point of even trying to form a relationship with one. After all, she's so well known now that anyone who is trying to form bonds with her now is after her fortune or her estate. A waste of time.

Then, she met you.

You came to her agency one afternoon for a meeting of your boss' company and hers, something about collaborating together to build up the value of both of your stocks. Whatever, it wasn't like she needed extra cash in her pocket, but she was willing to listen if he proved to be entertaining.

Though she wasn't really looking forward to creating a partnership with the obviously money-hungry man, her eyes widened when he brought you into the room after their introductions. You were his assistant at the time, and he made sure to get good use out of you. She could tell he ran you ragged from hell and back. You slouched a little and you looked quite uncomfortable in the scarlet red stiletto heels he no doubt required you to wear. However, through the exhaustion, she could see your bright eyes, gorgeous smile, and beauty beyond it all. It was more than beauty though. She felt like she'd seen you before in a dream, like she's known you for a lifetime and more. You're so familiar, yet she knowns she's never met you before.

Despicable. To force such a stunning woman such as yourself run ragged around the town. She could provide so much better for you, she would make you see that.

During the meeting all she could do was stare at you. How you fixed your hair back out of your face as you wrote notes on your laptop, how you answered you boss' questions with hesitancy and a sort of weak tone. She wanted to snap his head off when he barked at you to speak up and "show some respect for your employer". Yet he acted like the perfect, charming gentleman towards herself. She couldn't take this anymore. She called a 15 minute break and said she needed a moment to think over his "compelling" proposition.

As you walked off, she discreetly trailed behind. You headed to the restroom and she made a point to hang outside by the communal coffeemaker. When you came out, she came up to you with a Styrofoam cup and a gentle smile. Just seeing the way your pretty eyes brighten up at the kind gesture made her heart soar, and the shiver that raced down her spin when your fingers brushed against her made her feel electric.

You two chatted for the remainder of the break, and she strategically dropped the question over you and your boss' situation. She provided her shoulder to cry on as you lamented your woes over you boss, how he's...nice yeah right but he can be a little tough at times. The position pays well enough and it's nice to not have to work in the hot sun all day as your income, but it would be nice to not have to run around the town and retrieve miniscule things as his little lap dog all the time.

She simply slipped you a her card and gave you wink (you couldn't help but notice there was a strange, darker look in her eyes as she scanned you up and down) and told you to stop by whenever you felt the urge, but to look at the back of the card when you head out. As she walked off to go deny that selfish bastard's shit of an idea, you looked down at the card. On paper was a date and time for two days from now right below her name and the address of her agency.

~~~

It had been three months since that fateful day and she couldn't be happier.

She held a private meeting, just the two of you she can't wait to start calling these meetings a date, those two days later. She offered you a position as her personal assistant at her company instead of your current employer. When you thought of declining, she passed a piece of paper over to you that read a number with more zeros than you could process. She said this is what you would make a year with full benefits and plenty of opportunity for growth as it would be the base amount you'd make. It was easily triple your current salary.

With little hesitation, you put in your two weeks with your company, and with a swift call on from her side, you never had to go back to that company to fulfill those two weeks. She said he owed her a favor of some kind and he would repay it through letting you be free she actually found juicy blackmail material of him and one of his employees for a scandalous affair against his wife, but she would never tell you that.

In no time, you begun being her little pet. The job was great at first; she treated you with great respect, patience, and the tasks she gave you weren't even that difficult. It was like a dream come true. Then, it begun to change.

Suddenly, she enforced a dress code policy that felt like it only applied to you. It was mandatory for "all women or female presenting" read just for you workers in her establishment to done pencil skirts, sleek high heels, and a blazer that cut down deep into the cleavage. Don't worry about not meeting the dress code, she'll help you out! When you explained you didn't have many clothes of this variety in your closet, she quickly cleared her day and went on a shopping spree with you. Luxury brands, private fitting rooms, tailors and seamstresses all around took your measurements and were sent off to construct a dozen and more outfits for you to wear in the office. All the while, Ms. CEO sat and watched you model the attire. If the skirt wasn't short enough, she'd direct them to hem a few inches higher. If the cut wasn't deep enough on the blazer, she'd come in close and open the blazer to her desired bust viewing. You couldn't help but heat up tremendously as she worked her way around you, staring at your everything, and touching what felt like all of your intimate parts.

After that was done, she took you to a decadent lunch at a high class restaurant where the waiters and chefs seemingly all knew her by first name. She finished her small portion rather quickly, but she made a point to move her chair next to yours and chat beside you. You felt uncomfortable with her being so close and not eating, but she insisted you continue your food, saying she liked to watch you eat as the expressions you made at the exquisite food filled her more than any other meal could. She kept it to herself that it was mostly because it fueled her desire to know that she could provide for you. To feed you and clothe you. It was paradise to finally have someone to spoil.

At the end of the day, she took you back to your home in her private limo with her driver at the helm. She walked you to your front door, thanked you for indulging her and for such a wonderful day, and bid you a good night. She kissed the back of your hand, leaving behind a bloody red mark of a lipstick kiss as she marked you as hers. Her cute little assistant. She couldn't wait to make you her wife, and that joy carried her home the entire drive home.

~~~

One last idea: Our lovely Ms. CEO needs to attend a super ritzy, widely news pressed, gala of some sort, but she needs a partner to go with her! Everyone else is bringing a date, she'd be mortified she's could care less what the press thinks to be sent alone for the seventh year in a row.

So, she asks you to go with her as her sexy arm candy date. You reluctantly agree since you're just that nice and would hate her to feel humiliated going alone. :((

She's got you right where she wants you, darling~

So, you two go. She picks you up the day before, takes you to get a custom dress made personally for you. Skimpy and tight for her to eye fuck you and devour you all night, but still classy enough that you'll be the most elegant person attending.

You two walk in with the interviewers dotted around going nuts for her showing up with a date this year. You flush and make a point to clarify you aren't dating, but she pulls you along with a scoff at the newscasters.

She pulls you inside, and you two mingle, you never being allowed to stray from her side. She takes you over to the fancy bar, and loads you up with drink after drink, saying she wants you to enjoy the evening and have fun. However, with every drink she pushes on you, you realize too late that she's hardly even nursed the first drink she got an hour ago. You feel light headed and are no doubt way past tipsy.

She pulls you off with a grin, coddling you and holding your face, asking if you were alright in a babying tone. After meekly nodding your head, she yanks you over to the dance floor. She pulls you in close, and since she's at least a head taller than you, she makes sure that you rest your head on her breast. She sways you back and forth on your wobbling knees and you feel hot. You can feel every part of her body smooshed up against yours.

You whine at her hand gripping your hips as they drift lower to your thighs and ass. She whispers sweet nothings in your ears, pressing her red lipstick-covered lips against your ear when she nibbles.

You can't stop her as she pulls you away from the crowd and back to her limo. Once inside, she's kissing you senseless and maneuvering one of her hands to keep you shoved deep into her open-mouthed kiss. All you can acknowledge is her tongue stroking yours in a sensual curl and her other hand shimmying up the deep slit in your fancy dress to dance her fingers around your cute white panties.

You're starting to wonder if the money is really worth it anymore.

Can you guys tell I have no idea how big companies or money work? Lol, no, this was in no way, shape, or form meant to be a realistic view of how CEOs or big companies run. I just want a sexy dominate woman to adore me obsessively, pay for my wants and my desire for pretty dresses, and screw me senseless til I see stars.

Teehee~! ✨💖

Love,

Kraken 🐙

[inkskinned]

you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

[voidheartkisses]

The foretold narilamb yuri, I just have Narinder eyelashes and a slight chest, the lamb stays the same. Thats it, thats the yuri

[vancruejovi]

Joan Jett 🖤

[crowkip]

ouguugh,, womnen

[stbot]

♡judgmental girlfriends♡ 

[sistercara]

oh shid it me. how do normal people know how to emote when lookint at a camera