#the lesbian agenda continues

[floral-and-the-machine-blog]

I love how one of the defining characteristics of the Locked Tomb series is that it’s purportedly lesbian in nature, and yet the yuri is so toxic it’s barely edible

[interstate35south]

Y’ALL ROCKING W THE FUCKING. GENKANA YURI??!??

[milkcioccolato]

Some sweet and tender koskatan for y’all, courtesy of @armoralor and her lovely commission!🥺💖

Thank you so so much, I loved working on this, they’re so soft🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[lavampira]

do you picture me like I picture you? am I in the frame from your point of view?

[missjessefantastico]

i'm so sad we don't have happy interactions between tara and oz, not only i maintain that they would get along amazingly, i'd also love to see what that would do to willow's brain

[aha-chuu]

Mavuika really walked out in a full leather bodysuit with a zip down to her crotch only for people to ship her with a man 💔

[fujoshi-wife]

transcribed text:

ai (thinking): I need to crack his egg badly.

yuusaku (also thinking): This guy is going to do irreparable damage to my gender.

[simpforsix]

Sarah: I got called a lesbian in Walmart earlier today.

John: What happened?

Sarah: I got called a lesbian in Walmart.

Sam: Yeah, but why?

Sarah: I was being a lesbian.

Six: In Walmart?

Sarah: Yeah it was in Walmart.

[crownofbegonias]

good morning

[minnimayhem]

Butch Lesbian Natsu.

Is this anything?

[majachee]

LESBIAN RAPH TRUTHER SPOTTED!!! 🫵

LESBIAN RAPHAEL YEAHHH 💥💥💥💥

[mrfunnyinthebank]

as i've been coming to realize that i probably do experience having a special interest at different points in my life, i was kind of confused because i couldn't recall what i was into in early adolescence, what filled the gap between twilight and one direction. and then i remembered what the percy jackson series meant to me and i had a brain blast of unlocked memories. so that was one of them

[himedanshicult]

i think that last post gets at a tendency thats really hard to talk abt as a trans woman where like, in societal discourses, be they at news outlets or party conferences or queer spaces or wherever, trans women are built up as this influential group; the accusation of transmisogyny has undeniable power to it, being a trans woman helps you navigate queer and womens spaces, being a trans woman makes you seen as more innocent and less violent, therefore being a trans woman confers some social privilege that you can use as currency, being a trans woman means you can use your identity to pursue your own goals and agenda, trans women as a group exert pressure on other groups [most commonly perceived as being inflicted upon queers and women, esp cis lesbians] to go along with what you believe etc etc and it all piles up and it creates a comprehensive image of the position of trans women in contemporary society that is completely and utterly detached from the actual position of trans women in society. like you cannot under exaggerate how badly trans women are faring even in the most progressive areas of the most progressive countries. like even that post assumes that the "dead tranny hooker" jokes are a thing of the past, an assumption that naked, unapologetic transmisogyny is a bygone problem now replaced with more concealed transmisogyny when thats just not true.

the actual social consensus on trans women is so much more negative and violent than anyone in progressive spaces wants to admit, and most trans women know it, but when we talk abt how badly we have it we're immediately talked down and fed a bunch of bullshit talking points abt how we're just hysterical bitches who dont understand xyz oppression so they can continue to only talk about the perception of transmisogyny that exists in their heads

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

rockstar sevika x influencer reader

Chapter 8 : My Muse

summary : sevika posts her first picture of you and it’s definitely not what you expected.

mentions : funny usernames, modern au, fame au, lesbians being lesbian, sevika attempting to be romantic, kissing and groping

notes : lowkey a filler

chapters : one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

The next morning, everyone was bustling around the hotel, gathering their belongings and making final checks before heading to the airport. The next stop on your journey was New York City—a place that held so many memories for you, as it was where you were born. You knew what to expect: frigid air, heavy snow, and the kind of chaos only New York could provide.

Once you arrived at the airport, your group made its way through check-in and security with little trouble. You made sure to book first-class seats for everyone, refusing to settle for anything less than comfort on a long flight. Naturally, you ensured you were seated beside Sevika, while Caitlyn, Vi, and Jinx took seats nearby.

As the plane took off, you settled into your seat, opening your laptop to get some work done. You planned to edit photos from your trip so far and the videos Caitlyn had filmed, documenting your adventures. But it quickly became apparent that focus wouldn’t be on the agenda today.

Sevika, seated beside you, had other plans. Every so often, her hand would rest on your thigh, her fingers lightly tracing patterns that sent shivers up your spine. Then, without warning, she’d lean over to press a kiss to your cheek or your neck, her lips lingering just long enough to make your heart race.

You closed your laptop with a soft sigh, placing it on your lap before turning to her. “I can’t focus with you kissing me like that,” you said, your voice laced with mock annoyance but softened by the smile tugging at your lips.

“I know,” Sevika replied, a smirk playing on her face as her hand slid to take the laptop off your lap and tuck it into your bag. “But you’re so hot when you’re focused.”

“You flatter me,” you teased, leaning closer. Before you could say anything else, she cupped your face and pulled you into a deep kiss. Her lips were warm and firm against yours, and you felt yourself melting into the moment. She tilted her head slightly, deepening the kiss as her free hand slid under your shirt, groping your breast with a possessive grip that sent your pulse racing.

You broke the kiss abruptly, glancing around to remind yourself that you weren’t alone. “Sevika,” you whispered sharply, your tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. “We’re on a public plane. You know that, right?”

Sevika chuckled, her hand still resting on your waist as her smirk grew more mischievous. “I’ll fuck you anywhere. I don’t care who’s watching.”

Your eyes widened slightly, heat rushing to your face at her brazen words. “Yeah, well, I do,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the sternness you intended. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, shaking your head at her boldness.

“Relax,” she said, her tone softer now as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m just teasing. But you can’t blame me for wanting to touch you. You’re irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t hide the grin spreading across your face. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips.

As the flight continued, Sevika kept her hands to herself—mostly. Occasionally, she’d brush her fingers against yours or steal a quick kiss, but she behaved well enough to let you get some work done.

The group arrived at the hotel in the early afternoon, each of you excited to settle in before the evening's events. The room arrangements were already decided: you and Sevika shared a suite, Caitlyn and Vi were paired together, and Jinx had her own room. Luckily, she wouldn’t be fifth-wheeling for long, as her boyfriend Ekko was attending school in New York, studying engineering. She had already texted him about meeting up later, her excitement buzzing through the group chat.

When you and Sevika arrived at your suite, she wasted no time. The moment the door shut behind you, her hands were on your waist, pulling you close as her lips latched onto your neck. “Sevika, we just got here,” you laughed breathlessly, but she ignored you, her kisses trailing lower, her teeth grazing your skin as she left a trail of hickeys.

Before you even registered what was happening, Sevika had you undressed, your shirt tossed onto the floor, and your pants swiftly following. Her mouth found every inch of exposed skin, marking you. “Jesus… are you in heat?” you whined, feeling overwhelmed but unable to stop the grin spreading across your face.

“For you? Always,” she said, her voice low and husky as she hovered above you, pinning you to the bed. Her lips found yours, peppering you with soft kisses, one after the other, leaving you dizzy.

You groaned and gently pushed her back, giving her a playful glare. “We went at it all night before we left. I’m exhausted and sticky, Sevika. And don’t forget, you have a concert to practice for tonight.”

Sevika smirked but didn’t argue. “True,” she said, brushing her fingers through your hair. “But I don’t need to practice. You’re my muse.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way her words made your heart flutter. “Shut up,” you muttered, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed. You stretched, feeling the soreness in your muscles—a testament to Sevika’s stamina—and turned to look at her.

“I’m gonna shower,” you announced, standing up and making your way toward the bathroom. “And no,” you added over your shoulder, already predicting her next move. “You cannot join.”

Sevika raised a brow, her smirk widening as she leaned back against the pillows. “Tease,” she muttered, watching you walk away.

You disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Under the warm spray of the shower, you took a moment to gather yourself, the events of the past day—and the past night—still fresh in your mind. Sevika had a way of overwhelming you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you immediately noticed Sevika sitting on the plush couch in the hotel room, her legs spread casually as she strummed her guitar. It wasn’t plugged in, so the sound was soft, almost like a whisper, but it was still captivating. Her brows furrowed slightly as she worked through a melody, completely focused.

You leaned against the doorway, an oversized sweater draping over you, your damp hair pushed back away from your face. The sight of Sevika like this—relaxed and in her element—brought a soft smile to your lips. She looked up when she noticed you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice light with curiosity.

“Working,” she replied, continuing to strum as her eyes flicked back down to her guitar. “All of our songs are self-produced, and I help with it.”

You raised a brow, stepping further into the room. “Hm. I thought Vi and Cait were the only ones who produced the songs.”

“Nope,” she replied simply, a hint of pride in her voice.

You walked over and perched on the arm of the couch, watching her hands move effortlessly across the strings. “Don’t you need to practice for tonight?” you asked.

She smirked, glancing up at you briefly before returning her attention to her guitar. “We’ve been performing the same songs for the past few months. I promise. I’ve got it locked down, baby,” she reassured, her voice dripping with confidence.

You hummed, your eyes lingering on her fingers as they danced over the strings. “Can you teach me?” you asked, your tone playful but genuine, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Sevika looked up at you, her brow quirking in surprise before her lips curved into a grin. “I can teach you a bit,” she said, setting her guitar down momentarily to beckon you over.

You wasted no time, sliding onto her lap as she positioned the guitar in front of you both. Her arms wrapped around you, her calloused hands guiding yours to the right positions on the strings. The warmth of her body against yours made it hard to concentrate, but her calm and steady voice kept you grounded.

“Alright, start here,” she said, placing your fingers gently on the fretboard. “Press down—no, not too hard—and then strum.”

You did as she instructed, laughing softly when the note came out a little buzzy. “Not bad,” she said, her voice low near your ear. “Try again. Relax your fingers a little.”

With her hands guiding yours, she showed you how to play a simple pattern, her patience surprising you. The buzz of the strings turned into clear, sweet notes, and you grinned in triumph.

“There you go,” Sevika praised, her voice carrying a rare softness. She leaned in a little closer, her lips brushing your temple. “You’re a natural.”

“Maybe I should join the band,” you teased, glancing back at her with a playful smirk.

Sevika chuckled, her deep voice rumbling against your back. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sweetheart. Stick to being my muse.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. For a moment, the world felt distant, and all that mattered was the two of you in that room, wrapped up in each other and the quiet strum of a guitar.

Sevika’s phone buzzed, interrupting the intimate moment. The screen lit up with the name “Pinky Pie” and a funny .5-angle photo of Vi that had you snorting. Sevika rolled her eyes dramatically before answering.

“What?” she asked flatly, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

“Meet in Jinx’s room,” Vi said through the phone, her voice buzzing with energy. “I wanna do a new song tonight—surprise the fans.”

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be on the way, Assface,” Sevika replied, leaning back on the couch.

“See you then, Shithead,” Vi clapped back before hanging up.

As Sevika locked her phone, your eyes caught her lock screen. It was a picture of you—*that* picture. The one from Bora Bora, where you were lounging in a white bikini with a pink flower tucked behind your ear, holding a coconut with the shimmering ocean waves in the background. It was unmistakably from your Instagram, and you knew it well because it was your most-liked post.

Your jaw dropped in playful disbelief. “And you said this wasn’t a relationship…” you teased, snatching her phone from her grasp to get a closer look.

Sevika groaned, but a small smirk tugged at her lips as she quickly took the phone back. “Gotta show them what’s mine,” she said casually, her tone laced with confidence.

You couldn’t help the warmth spreading across your face as you leaned back on her shoulder, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I am yours. All yours,” you murmured.

Sevika glanced down at you, her smirk softening into something more tender. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you,” she said quietly, her voice steady and full of conviction.

Your heart stuttered—did it stop for a moment? You weren’t sure. The unexpected confession left you breathless, but your smile widened until it almost hurt. “I love you too, Sevi baby,” you replied with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the overwhelming emotion you felt.

Sevika raised an eyebrow at the nickname, a rare laugh slipping from her lips. “You just ruined the moment,” she teased, gently pushing you off her lap with a smirk.

“Oh, come on!” you protested, grinning as she stood up and began gathering her guitar and other gear she needed for the meeting.

She slung her guitar over her back and glanced at you, her eyes still holding a trace of softness. “I’ll see you at the concert,” she said, her voice low and warm.

“Yeah… I’ll see you then. Tell your stylist to dress you warmly please,” you replied, standing to walk her to the door.

Before she left, she leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, her lips brushing your skin in a way that left your heart racing all over again.

And then she was gone, leaving the room quieter but somehow fuller than before.

While getting ready for the concert, you started with your usual routine—skincare first, then brushing and flossing your teeth. You swirled mouthwash in your mouth as you reached for your phone, noticing it vibrating repeatedly on the counter. Curious, you unlocked it, only to freeze at what was on your screen.

Your eyes widened, and in shock, you choked on the mouthwash, accidentally swallowing it as your breath hitched. Sevika had posted on her social media.

There it was—a photo Sevika had posted on her Instagram. It was an off-guard picture of you laying on the bed, a book in hand, still in nothing but your underwear from the night before. The soft lighting from the bedside lamp illuminated your features, making the scene feel intimate and peaceful.

What made it even worse—or better?—was the caption:

"My muse 🎶🖤"

And she had tagged you.

“What the fuck?!” you yelled, staring at the screen with a mix of horror and disbelief. You quickly scrolled to the comments, which were already blowing up.

Fans were flooding the post:

shatteredsoulsstan “OKAY SEVIKA WE SEE YOU 😍🔥.”

sevikasthirdleg “Wait, are they official now?!?!”

(y/n)updates “This is so hot I can’t breathe.”

caitlynscooch “Y’all need to chill, I can’t handle this power couple energy.”

Your notifications were exploding with likes and tags, and people were already screenshotting the post and sharing it.

You frantically wiped your mouth and called Sevika. She picked up on the second ring, her tone calm and amused. “Hey, baby.”

“Sevika, what is wrong with you?!” you shrieked. “You posted that picture and tagged me?!”

She chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Yeah. What about it?”

“What about it?!” you sputtered. “It’s… it’s—”

“Beautiful,” she interrupted, her voice low and steady. “You’re stunning in it. I wanted everyone to see what I see every day.”

Your frustration faltered as warmth crept up your neck. “That’s… that’s not the point!” you stammered, even though your heart was racing.

“Relax,” she teased. “It’s nothing everyone hasn’t seen before. You’re a model, babe. I just gave them a little reminder that you’re mine.”

You sighed, trying to stay mad, but her confidence—and her words—were impossible to resist. “You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“And you’re irresistible,” she shot back smoothly. “Now, hurry up and finish getting ready. I wanna see you when I get out on that stage.”

She hung up before you could respond, leaving you staring at your phone in exasperation. You muttered under your breath, “This woman is going to be the death of me.”

But as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, a small, shy smile crept onto your lips. Maybe Sevika’s boldness wasn’t so bad after all. You’d just have to brace yourself for the chaos waiting—and the fans who now definitely knew you were hers.

taglist : @moodient @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @artfairyyyyy @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @fudosl @athena-winters13

[bongazo]

For my non Spanish speaking mutuals and whoever cares, The Times published an interview with Argentina's current president, Javier Milei. I have no words to express how crazy and cruel this character is.

The interview is long, but here are some extracts. Please, if you can, read it. The world needs to know we are being governed by a president that chose as his vice-president a dictatorship negationist and who also talks to his dead dog through a medium while cutting oncological aid to cancer patients. People died and continue dying in public hospitals because there aren't enough medical supplies. His anti "woke agenda" discourse allowed the assassination of three lesbian women THIS VERY MONTH, they were BURNED ALIVE WHILE THEY WERE SLEEPING AND THE GOVERNMENT IS DOING NOTHING AT ALL!

Please read and reblog, we need this madness to be known

Here's Time's interview

[nerdishpursuits]

And this is one of the countless reasons I love chatting about Mafin with @midniteowlet: she's my very own toma a Tierra and grounds me, so I can approach things more rationally.

Upon concluding our debate of the current turn of events on the show, Mafin on the whole and their narrative? I've come to look at things as follows. The show very much reflects society as it is: a sad state of affairs where good people hurt and unsavory characters often prevail. The fact that we want everything good and wholesome to triumph at every turn? Idealistic, not realistic. Not to mention lofty expectations actually prevent one from truly appreciating the show, with all its ups and downs and winding roads. And personally, I'd like to keep enjoying it, without getting dragged down the utopian rabbit-hole.

For the most part, the representation we get is actually well crafted: Mafin feels organic, tried and true, and the chemistry between them is undeniable and thrilling. More so? Their story doesn't feel forced and thus, can be promoted to any viewership without it coming across as preachy and condescending, or having an agenda. If anything, Mafin is by far the best developed, healthiest relationship on the show. I, for one, much prefer the portrayal of good communication, heartfelt romance and overcoming obstacles together than a deluge of r-rated scenes. And honestly? We are being offered a damn good story here, even as it fails to satisfy everyone's hopes and demands (which in all honesty, it never could - at the end of the day, someone will always be disappointed)

I'm also reminded of Marta B. mentioning in a recent interview that the show is not aimed exclusively at the sapphic community. As such, it will not depict or cater to its particular needs. It's part of a larger ensemble and needs to appeal to a broad audience. And, when all is said and done, it actually manages to accomplish more with this kind of storytelling: one that's simpler, one that doesn't try to be pedantic. Ergo, they will not linger and preach to the audience. What they will do instead is allow the characters, their circumstances and actions, to speak for themselves. And they will trust they're doing a good enough job to let people draw their own conclusions. So far, I think they've achieved that: there’s heterosexual people watching the novela who love Mafin and think they’re the best couple on the show, there’s elderly people learning to be more open-minded, everyone loves Damian's character development, everyone hates Santiago and acknowledges he is a despicable lowlife etc. The show is moving the pieces along the board quite deftly and it makes for an interesting, if not always gratifying, game.

As for today's episode? There's no doubt that Marta and Fina only have eyes for each other. They're an established couple who will face anything thrown their way as they always have, as one. No mustachioed men will ever change that. Marta and Fina's narrative will never be whether they desperately adore each other. That they do couldn’t be more obvious. Their story? Ever has it been, and will continue to be, about their fight to attain freedom: freedom to live their love in a society that forbids it.

Therefore, I've reached the point where I'm not worried at all about either Santiago or Pelayo. Based on Pelayo's reaction upon learning Marta is a lesbian? I doubt he'll help Santiago in his attempt to sink Marta's ships. To me he comes across as a calculated businessman, but not a heartless one. He stands to profit more from a partnership with the de la Reina family than throwing Marta to the wolves. He also didn't bat an eye at Santiago's reveal, wasn't surprised or outraged. Which, I'll go out on a limb and say, is telling. He's either gay himself or simply plans on advancing his business / political career by securing a partner that won't demand his attention or affection. The first scenario ensures he remains socially upstanding while the second allows him to live as he pleases. To a man like Pelayo? It's a jackpot either way. Hopefully, the benefits outweigh the costs for Marta as well, should the plot move in that direction. And given all the signs? It's already halfway there.

That being said. It remains to be seen what happens to Santiago. I assume, and hope, his little ploy at denouncing Marta to the Civil Guard will cost him, dearly or otherwise. His own thirst for vengeance pushed him to make the wrong move which is, in my opinion, seeking out Pelayo. And while there's plenty of outraged cries that Marta & Fina don't need another man to save them? Let's not forget it's 1958. The likelihood of neither of them attracting a suitor, fake or otherwise unwelcome, is as doubtful as improbable. The fact they managed to successfully evade them so far? Quite the feat.

As for what awaits? Marta won't go to jail, I think, since that card has already been played. Or who knows? We might be surprised. The fear they need to instill in her requires new heights, in order for Marta to reluctantly accept another cage. Mind you, she's still trapped: as much freedom as she currently wields, Marta remains a woman whose very social status entraps her, singling her out as prime real estate. She's the proverbial golden goose, especially as dictated by the mores of society back then. Marta and Fina's shared dream of freedom remains, for now, a dream. One they've almost had at their fingertips, which makes their current circumstances all the more painful. I will say: it stings that Fina won't be the first to read Marta's journal. Undoubtedly, at some point, she will. After all, that journal is a mirror of Marta's very heart. It lays out her deepest fears, her innermost longings. It chronicles the fiercest battles Marta has had to wage with herself, her losses and triumphs, her meditations and hymns, the anguish and the deliverance of her love for Fina. To have it fall into the wrong hands? A violation of the utmost personal, a desecration of what is deemed sacred and untouchable. The diary symbolizes Marta having a safe space to call her own, one where she was allowed to embrace her true self, one that initiated her journey to freedom, her quest to rid herself of her shackles. Santiago has no honorable bone in his body and his hatred towards women, and Marta in particular, drives him to invade and vandalize her privacy, this blessed sanctuary she got to call her own. Let's see if Pelayo rises to the occasion and proves himself as a noble character. You can never have too many allies. Do I still take issue with how certain things are handled, with the inconsistencies and shoddy character work? Definitely. But I’m also able to simply sit back and enjoy. Let's see where all this goeth, shall we? Hello pain, let's go again.