#useless lesbian vampire

[hyperfanpod]

Hyperfixation kicks of Vampire Month with Carmilla by J. Sheridan La Fanu, the first lesbian vampire and a book that predates Dracula. Why are vampires and horror always queer? And why won't Marika shut up about the web series?  https://briikasakpodcast.buzzsprout.com/1371367/14569111

[sapphic-flesh]

I may not be a necromancer,

But I am neck romancer…

*dabs and dies*

[elmodoescrimes]

reading fanfics about useless lesbians.

[fictiongods]

Bellyache by Billie Eilish is so Faith Lehane core. Like she would absolutely hate the song and say it’s too “girly” but if you actually listen to the lyrics and ignore the, like, background music noise (as you can tell I in fact know NOTHING about music shh don’t tell) the lyrics are actually Faith. And actually don’t ignore said music background noise cause that’s Faith too. Like the pretty notes make you ignore the tragedy of the lyrics, and the cool beat distracts you from it.

[carmillababyy]

carmilla: you are mine, you shall be mine, you and i are one forever *dramatically sobbing*

laura: do i remind you of a cousin, perhaps??

laura you dumb fucking lesbian she’s in love with you jfc

[iammadeofratsratsratsrats]

Vampire getting her girlfriend to do her make up bc she can’t see in the mirror.

[alpaca-clouds]

New Fic: Bound By Blood [Araj/Aurelia Slowburn]

Alright, let's go with this as a header for now, until I have the money to commission @g-vlssz with some shipping art for them.

Here it is. My ship with the other absolute crackship I have for BG3. Araj/Aurelia. Why do I ship them? Because I think they look hot together. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And I thought they would make for a fun ship to try out writing some Enemies to Lovers Slowburn. Something I usually do not do.

So, yeah. Enjoy this story about two useless sapphic women.

Bound by Blood

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Shipping: Araj/Aurelia Genre: Enemies to Lovers Slowburn

It is finally Araj's time. She has finished her research, and she is ready to return to Menzoberranzan, and restore the House of Oblodra. Yet, soon after she enters the Underdark, she hears rumors about a large group of vampire spawn having settled there. In a moment of weakness, she cannot help her curiosity. This one time, before she will either become a matriarch or a matyr for her house, she is allowed to endulge in her fantasy. However, nothing could have prepared her for what she will find.

[pussyslayer69]

Oh, how i wish to adore you.

This is an original story made by me. Lmk what you think!

Attempt 1 (while listening to Taylor Swift. ‘Bejeweled’)

Eliza was lying down on the large, comfortable couch when she received the message. It was late at night. Eliza was almost falling asleep until she heard her phone ping.

It was her boss.

Subject: Exciting Opportunity: International Assignment

“Dear, Elizabeth.

I hope you're doing well. We have an exciting opportunity for you: a key role in Romania. We believe your skills and expertise make you the perfect fit for this assignment.

This move offers valuable career growth and the chance to contribute to our global success. We're committed to supporting you throughout the process, from visas to relocation logistics.

Let's discuss further at your convenience. Feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns.

Looking forward to hearing from you.”

The mail read. Eliza stared at with for a while, a look of confusion covering her features. Romania? She lived in New York City! Eliza let out a loud groan as she realized what was going to happen. She had nothing left to lose, anyway. Elizabeth stood up from the couch and made her way to the fridge in her apartment… Well, studio.

She felt weird. It was like she was having an out of body experience. Nothing felt real anymore. She stared at the insides of the cold refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. She could feel the cold and wet condensation on the outside of the plastic bottle. The lights were dimmed in her kitchen, making her studio have a cozy atmosphere.

It wasn’t like she did anything do decorate, though. The bare minimum was enough for Eliza. She thought long and hard about the mail, occasionally taking tiny sips of the cold water.

“Fuck…” Eliza muttered under her breath. She was sat on the kitchen counter, and she wasn’t happy about the decision her boss made. She refused to put in her two weeks’ notice, though. Maybe moving to Romania could be a good thing?

Elizabeth quickly shook that thought from her head, deciding it wasn’t worth getting a headache about. She would contact her boss in the morning for more details… But, for now? She was going to sleep.

She walked out the kitchen and flopped down on her comfy bed, falling asleep to the sounds of the city.

Attempt 2 (Hozier. ‘Nina Cried Power’)

Elizabeth woke up due to the sounds of the blaring alarm on her phone. In her sleepy state, she considered throwing the damn thing against the wall. But the rational part of her brain prevented her from doing that. Instead, she dragged her hand out from under the covers and pressed on the ‘snooze’ button. She didn’t have any important things to do, anyway.

Five minutes later, her alarm started going off again. She groaned and pressed the ‘Stop’ button. Shutting the annoying alarm off for good. She grabbed her phone and immediately got blinded by the bright screen. Elizabeth felt like her body took a screenshot. But, alas. Her eyes were fine when she checked her phone again.

It was 09:00. A normal time for Elizabeth to wake up. She worked from home, after all. She liked to start her morning with some self-hating, mad at the universe for letting her live. Oh, why did her heart decide to beat? Hell, she wouldn’t even care if she died right there in her bed.

…

Anyways, she got up and went over to the bathroom. Again, the lights blinded her. Elizabeth didn’t let that stop her and started brushing her teeth. She felt the cold tiles under her toes. It was comforting in a weird way. Eliza looked at herself through the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Damn, her hair was a mess. And where did the stain on her shirt come from? Whatever. She had to shower anyway.

After her shower, she dried off her hair with a towel. Eliza’s hair felt smooth after her shower… And it smelled good. Like cherry blossoms. Eliza put on her clothes. A simple shirt with jeans. The converse she was planning to wear were stored in the foyer. First, she needed food. Eliza hung up her towel and started making her way to the kitchen. She could hear her upstairs neighbor getting ready. She knew they had a cat. Cute kitty.

She saw a box of donuts on the kitchen counter… Would she? Yes, she would. Eliza took one donut out the box and took a large bite. That really satisfied her cravings. The sweet taste of raspberry syrup filled her with joy. She realized it was time she ran some errands since the only edible things in her house were donuts, water, and two week old takeout.

Eliza finished the donut with a sigh and washed her hands to get rid of the powdery goodness. She made her way to the foyer, careful not to step in mystery fluids that were scattered across the floor. The studio was enough for her. For now, at least. She would be moving to Romania soon. Anxiety filled her head with less-than-positive thoughts as she put her fucking shoes on. She grabbed her jacket and wallet before stepping out of her home.

NYC was a bit chilly. No problem. She was used to it. Like any New Yorker, she kept her head down and walked quickly. Eliza was planning on buying some groceries… Maybe some wine, too. She needed it. It depended on the price since everything was so fucking expensive.

The wind blew through her hair, messing it up again. Eliza sighed. She could already feel a headache coming up. Why was being an adult so hard? She just wanted to eat waffles and stay home all day. She quickly made her way to the grocery store and grabbed a basket, checking out the produce aisle. Fruits and vegetables filled her basket. Being 6’2 meant she could easily look over people and spot the carbs. She quickly grabbed some pasta and bread before checking out the snacks. Chips and cookies caught her attention. Eliza decided to indulge. She bought the produce, snacks, and wine. At least the cashier was nice. She couldn’t wait to chug the wine.

Attempt 3 (No songs this time.)

Back at home, she read the mail from her boss again and again. A feeling of anxiety and excitement filled her body. Yeah, this would be a good thing. Romania didn’t seem that bad. Maybe she could visit some castles when she was there… At least, that was what Google told her to do. Eliza closed her laptop and decided to make some tea for herself. She didn’t feel like drinking the wine anymore. Plus, all her friends were busy and drinking alone wasn’t that fun. Green tea always hit the spot. She set some water out to boil and waited, flopping down on the sofa. She grabbed her phone and opened Tinder, looking for some interesting people.

“The fuck? This bitch is married… Yikes.” She mumbled, swiping left. She wasn’t looking for any threesomes or flings. Not that she was looking for anything serious, but she wouldn’t go for married women.

“Dude? Seriously?” She asked herself with an eyeroll as she saw a man. Eliza specifically set her preferences to women after a few less-than-pleasant experiences. She sighed and closed the app again. No one interesting today… Or tomorrow, probably. Maybe it would be better if she deleted the fucking app.

DING!

She heard the ding of the water. It was finally boiling. She got up, grabbed the mug, tea, and water. Perfect tea. Eliza took a sip, forgetting that the water was still super-hot. She swallowed the tea with a pained expression, burning her tongue in the process. This is when she decided that iced tea was better. She looked out onto the city, questioning her existence. Who doesn’t have an existential crisis once in a while? It was all part of getting older. Eliza did think she looked pretty cool, though. With a mug in her hand. Like some supervillain coming up with a masterplan for world domination.

Bzz-bzz.

Her phone buzzed. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she saw the notification. It was her boss again, informing her of the opportunity. Some boring details. All she knew was that she had to be at the airport. Tommorow evening. What the fuck? Eliza groaned. She knew this meant she had to start packing everything up, which she did not look forward to. While she didn’t have a lot of stuff, she still knew this would take at least 2 hours. She would have to call a moving company tomorrow. Why did her boss send this email THIS late? Whatever. She made good money. That’s all that mattered. An IT job did pay pretty well. She finished the tea and began packing..

Attempt 4

The packing took way longer than expected. She finished at 1AM. Eliza didn’t even know she had THIS much stuff. She already brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. Well, this was her last night in New York. It was a weird feeling. Maybe she was a little sentimental. She had so many good memories here… It felt weird to just let that go. But, she decided to look on the bright side. Romania would also give her good memories. She just had to stay positive.

As she rolled around in the silk sheets, she realized finding sleep was near impossible. Her thoughts were too loud. The sounds of the city brought her no comfort this time. Eliza realized she would miss this… A little. Maybe she didn’t want to say goodbye. She sat up in bed, looking outside. The city that never sleeps. It was true. The city was still bustling with life. Hell, she probably knew some of the people who she could see walking down the busy streets. The skyscrapers, the view, the food. She would miss it. Especially the street food. Fuck, the burritos were good. Did they even have those in Romania? Did they have tacos? What if they didn’t even have good wine?

Maybe that was a little far-fetched. It was Europe, after all. Of course, there was going to be nice drinks. Possibly even better than the ones she drank now. The good thoughts brought her comfort this time. She laid down in bed again, now looking forward to the new life she was going to have. She would definitely adopt a cat there. And live in a house. Alone. With no noisy neighbors to disturb her

Maybe this wasn’t going to be that bad…

(Hi! This is my first ever post on Tumblr and my first ever story. I'm really happy to share this with the world. More chapters are coming soon!)

[xylo]

if all goes well i'll be moving 27 hours away from my childhood home to louisiana in five months time.......... oh the thrills of being a phd student!

[galaxysharks]

Also this black cat

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

cw- wlw, vamp!gf, somno, non/dubcon, fingering, pervy lesbian vampire + equally pervy human gf (fav)

Imagine your vamp!gf stalking into your room in the middle of the night, drunk of her latest kill.

Her vision hazed with bloodlust. She looks upon you, lying on your stomach, leg propped up on a pillow between your legs; sleeping peacefully.

You looked ravishing. Her hands grasp at your curves that were concealed by a thin sheet, it clings to your body; desire pulsating through her.

She’s quick to rip the blanket off showing your luscious body that adored a small slip dress that barely covered your ass, tits spilling out of the top. It’s like you were teasing her.

Her lip snarls, grabbing your breast, groaning at the soft flesh spilling between her fingers as she kneads the fatty flesh. Her hips grind on the back of your thigh, pleasure shooting up her core at your innocent sleeping form not knowing how she was defiling you. Then she heard you moan, your eyes moving behind closed lids. She rubbed your head cooing at you, whispering in your ear in an ancient, compelling voice; “Sleep.” Then she knew you wouldn’t wake up, she needed you like this.

Her free hand finds its way to your bottom, ripping the silk dress up exposing your bare ass. She lets out a low, raspy breath, a vicious smirk dawning her face, her fangs shining in the moonlight that dipped in and out of your window.

She lets go of your breast grabbing both of your asscheeks, spreading them. She couldn’t help the whimper she let out seeing your pretty little holes. Your pussy weeped with arousal, your puckered hole pulsated with need.

She was salivating, letting the spit gather on her tongue and opening her mouth the spit traveling down your waiting holes.

She let your ass go, hiking her dress up she rips her panties off, putting them under your pillow. Fixing herself over the back of your thigh grinding her wet cunt against your leg, like a cat in heat.

Her long, cold fingers find your wet, waiting pussy plunging into your gushing hole; your walls squeezed her fingers devilishly. She moaned loudly as she fucked your cunt with her fingers, the same rhythm she humped your thigh too. ‘’Fucking little pussy was made for me.’’ She whispers to your sleeping body. Her thumb attaches to your clit.

If you were awake right now she already know you’d be mewling for her to fuck you, grasping at her mean hands that toyed with you.

‘’Gonna fuck you so good when you wake up, little pet.’’

She groans, finally feeling your velvet walls flutter around her slender fingers. She whines, slipping her fingers out of you. Bringing her fingers to her nostrils inhaling your scent like a hound dog, her whines turn into moans as her hips go wild. Moans turns into gargled groans as she sucks her own fingers like a mad man. Then, it happens.

Then she looks out the window, still on top of your sleeping figure. She knows the sun is going to come up any minute now and she wishes she could stay with you, basket in the morning bliss and not leave the bed until your legs are shaking with pleasure. But it’s useless to dream, well except the one where she's feeding you her blood. Finally sharing the dark gift, to be her immoral companion. Now, that’s a dream— no, a future, she can entertain.

When she leaves you instantly wake up, the all too familiar aftershocks of an orgasm making you delirious. Arms moving out from under your pillow just to find something shoved under there. Pulling the object out you see it’s a pair of torn lacy black underwear. Then you smile connecting the dots instantly holding the panties to your chest. You rub your thighs together thinking about how you're going to confront her tonight.

[hyperfanpod]

Vampire month continues with Marika making the gang talk about the first season of Carmilla the web series, the 2014 Canadian adaption of the novella of the same name. It was a very specific, very tumblr moment on the internet for Marika. Cal and Bret find it... fine. Cal makes comparisons to Baldur's Gate and Bret has seen as a lot of SyFy original programming.

https://www.buzzsprout.com/1371367/14604825-carmilla-the-web-series

[sapphic-flesh]

Idea developing, make the werewolf audio a werewolf fucking a vampire.

I do love enemies to lovers. Ha!

[yandere-paramour]

So you did a post about asteria and Jamie wedding night and the whole servants preparing Jamie for asteria really stuck with me and I was wondering if you could something similar with atalanta and her darling but make it like 1800s gothic vampire au 😼 where atalantas like a secret vampire and butch lesbian who's an aging suitor and asteria if she's in the au is like GET MARRIED NOW! and low and behold darling is either from a poor family or a family desperate to social climb and is sold off rawr.

So cue darling who's very scared of this random ass person who probably more experienced than her and after darling is getting washed and prepped for atalanta what does atalanta do will she automatically take her blood since darling is her wife and ata has rights or whatever to do so or is she understanding to the feeble young human?

(I'm thinking darlings probably in lingerie as she's presented to ata does ata have thoughts about this.)

I know this is long and you're very busy with uni so I understand the wait 😊

Wedding With A Vampire

There was just so much white.

You hated white. You liked cleanliness well enough, and you liked peace a normal amount, but if you never saw white again it would be too soon.

You weren't a parcel, although you were sold like one. A family with one daughter and no sons in this time was said to be cursed. No sons to take over the family business, no sons to carry on the family name. Only a daughter who would eat your food, spend your money, and might not even marry well enough to recoup your losses.

And that might've been you. If not for your father marrying you off to Atalanta Montclair.

The Montclairs were an old house, very old. They had money out the ass, connections to every royal house on the globe, and such a beautiful appearance that to look upon them was to gaze at perfection itself.

But there was something off about them. You remembered Atalanta when you were young, before she was sent off somewhere to mature somewhere prestigious and far from prying eyes. You were three or four, meaning she must have been seven or eight, and her parents in middle age. Those eyes stopped you. Not the color, they all had dark eyes, but the way they pierced you, made you stop in your tracks, made you want to curl up and simply... wait for whatever fate she would deal you. Nanny said you had nightmares for days after, but you could never explain what you saw that bothered you so much.

The next time you saw her was The Avarice Ball nearly twenty years later. It was a day in condemnation of the sin, a day for piousness and charity. Nobles were supposed to donate and redistribute their wealth, to volunteer with the poor for everyone to come out a little more human afterward. But instead they just partied. The wine never stopped flowing, there were endless sweets and pastries, and only the richest of rich were invited, all while the poor starved outside.

It was positively sickening.

And you were participating in it. Unwillingly, of course.

That was where you saw her next. All the Montclairs, a family that defied the odds, somehow turning the uselessness of a daughter into the pride and joy of a son. Atalanta Montclair was a girl, but her parents had passed their millions down to her, and she had turned that wealth into even more wealth, uninterested in a husband or children. She was the jewel of society, smart, beautiful, with piercing eyes that made you want to kneel before her. Her mother, Lady Asteria, was the former diamond of society. She looked not a day over 35, even though she must be in her 50s at this point. Her father looked the same, although his eyes had less of an effect.

But this meant nothing to you. All you wanted to do was smuggle some macarons back to your personal maids in hopes of having some way to lessen the sin of being here when you inevitably met God. You wanted to get the goods and get out. There was no reason to socialize. You didn't have any friends and your father was planning on passing everything down to a distant nephew anyway. As long as you remained quiet and well-behaved, you could escape notice and hopefully escape being sent to a nunnery.

But you were unlucky.

She must've seen you there, seen you stuffing your face with lemon tarts like a glutton. While you slept peacefully in your bed with a belly full of sugar, Montclair must have been up, penning a letter to your father and gathering a dowry large enough to make a baron faint. Before you even woke up, your future was set, your clothes were packed, and debts were already being repaid.

The only thing you regret is that you weren't able to say goodbye to your mother. She was buried in the family mausoleum behind the garden, but you were hurried out so quickly that the butter hadn't even melted on your breakfast toast. There was no time to say farewell to a corpse, Father said, and you didn't argue.

You were taken straight to the Montclair manor as the wedding was prepared. You expected to undergo bridal lessons, or to at least meet your betrothed properly, but no. Lord Montclair met you, and he was as kind as your future father-in-law could be, but the temperature of his skin during the handshake made you flinch, and you felt that was a terrible faux pas. Did the man have sluggish blood or something?

The only instructions you were given were to eat your fill and rest. The week was long, but restful. This wedding shit was all moving faster than you were comfortable with. You could tell the staff was frantically getting everything together, but all you were told to do was pick out your dress, some lacy white thing that showed off your neck and wrists, and you weren't privy to the rest. Every time you tried to help with the work or even ask about the plans, the staff just waved you away and brought you another cake. You gained five pounds before Friday.

It would've been okay if you could have at least met Atalanta, but the woman was a recluse. She spent hours in her office, but whenever you tried to catch a glimpse of her, she wouldn't be there. You ate meals alone, and spent most of your time in your room. It was a lonely week, and you hoped that the rest of your life as Duchess (a terrifying title) would not be the same. If you were meant to spend your whole life in such frozen temperatures, maybe a convent would have been kinder.

But at least the wedding was soon. Saturday morning you were strapped into your dress and delivered to the alter. It was a private affair, although much more private than you expected. You expected your father to abandon you the second he received your dowry, but you never expected Montclair to send a proxy to her own wedding. Lord Montclair was there, apologizing for his daughter's absence at her own damn wedding. There was some sort of problem with the vassals, he said, an emergency. Atalanta would be back later to properly attend to the wedding night.

Like you gave a shit. As far as you knew, you'd go your entire life without seeing your wife and be just fine with it.

After a bath that bordered on obsessive (honestly the maids were way too concerned with the cleanliness of your ass crack), you were delivered to Montclair's chambers in a white nightgown and told under no uncertain circumstances that you were to lie back, relax, and comply with whatever Montclair asked of you.

You only waited ten minutes before she came in, fresh from her own bath. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you as she brushed her own dark hair. You fidgeted, acutely aware of your own lack of undergarments.

"You're as lovely as I remember."

"Huh?" The first words you ever said to your new wife and it was something stupid. Typical.

"I said you are as lovely as I remember. Your dress at the Avarice Ball was beautiful. It complimented your figure well."

"Oh, uh... thanks?"

"I apologize that I was unable to see you this week. I was very busy with the combination of my duties and preparations for our wedding. I'm very sorry about everything, especially not being present at our wedding. I never intended for you to do all of this alone. I promise it won't happen again."

All your frustration and anger at her evaporated in an instant as her apologetic eyes compelled you to forgive her, "It-It's okay. I forgive you."

"Thank you, my lady. You are so kind."

Atalanta finishes with her hair and gives you her full attention. Her eyes roam over your body, concentrating primarily on your ankles, wrists, and neck. Uncomfortable, you cross your legs, praying to God that she can't smell your dripping arousal.

"Do you know what happens on wedding nights?"

The thought of the erotic novels you sent your maid out to buy flashed in your mind. Many lustful scenes from "I Slept With the Emperor" and "My Knight's Real Sword" ran behind your eyes, and you blushed.

"I-I know that I will be expected to lay with you as my... wife and we will become one."

"Correct," She gave you what was supposed to be a reassuring pat on your bare ankle and you flinched from the chill of her hand, "And do you know what you will become tonight?"

"... A Montclair?"

Atalanta gave a strange, indulgent little smile, "That's right, Darling. A Montclair. After tonight, you'll be one of us."

"Yes..."

You watched as she abruptly stood up, crossing over to the bedside table to pull out some... silk? Baffled, you couldn't help but remember the maid's warnings from earlier: lie back, relax, and comply.

"Lie back," Atalanta's gentle command, along with a hand on your shoulder, pushed you to lie on your back in bed, and Atalanta's cold hands gently gathered your wrists and began... tying them to the bedposts?

"What are you-"

"Hush Darling. Stay calm."

Atalanta's light scolding shut you up immediately, and you let her secure your wrists with lengths of red silk to each bedpost. There was clear fear and confusion in your eyes, but every time you felt yourself about to say something, her eyes met yours, and all your resistance died away. You let out a small whimper as she parted your legs to tie them as well, but that was the extent of your protests. Within five minutes, you were spread eagle on the pure white sheets, your wrists and ankles tied soundly to each bedpost with red silk.

This was... not a sexual position often used, even in your erotica, but Montclair had the power here. If this was her fetish, as her wife, you were to stay calm and accept it. You were supposed to be partners; whatever kinks she had, you would endure them together.

Montclair gently stroked your face, looking at you adoringly. You would have flinched at her cold hands, but you expected them this time. Her finger dragged down your jaw onto the side of your neck, choosing a particular spot to lean down to kiss, a chaste peck that make you emit a little squeak.

"Are you ready, my Darling?" Atalanta asked, gently massaging the spot on your neck.

"W-Will it hurt?" As strong as her eyes were, you couldn't help but whimper this one desperate question.

"I will try to be gentle," Atalanta's hand slid under your nightgown up your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to your core, "And in a few days, everything will be different. You will be different."

"I-I will?"

"Yes, love. As soon as it's over, I will bathe and redress you myself, and in three days everything will be different. You will be a Montclair. You will be one of us."

"Three days?"

"Only three. Now hush, love. No more questions. It's time."

Atalanta's thumb gently begins to circle your clit and you writhe, straining against your binds. You've touched yourself before but the added elements of the sexually charged nature of your wedding night and the coldness of Montclair's hands add so much to the situation. A drip turns into a stream turns into a faucet, and tears flow down your face as Atalanta stimulates you with no relent.

"This will help with the pain, Darling. Just focus on the feeling and it will help," Atalanta coos to you, obviously enjoying the sight of you struggling beneath her.

As you grow close to the edge, you feel Atalanta's free hand turn your head to the side, holding it in place as her other hand pumps in and out of you.

"Almost there, sweet one. I'll know when you're ready, trust me."

You buck against Montclair's hand, seeking more friction as you border on the edge of the precipice. Atalanta leans down, kissing from your cheek to your jaw to your neck, centering around that special spot.

"It's time, baby. Come for me. I love you already. I'll see you soon."

As Atalanta's words begin to enter your overstimulated brain, your orgasm crashes upon you and you convulse in pleasure. Right then, Atalanta leans down, presses one last apologetic kiss, and bites.

[andromellax]

About me and this blog

TL;DR:

This is a lesbian NSFW blog. That means it isn't appropriate for children and I feel uncomfortable with interaction from men.

E, they/she, 21 years old, student in Finland, single

a femme lesbian, sub pillow princess, useless lesbian

asks are open for everyone over 18

dm's open for 19 and older, do not message me if you are only interested in sexting and not in getting to know each other, do not come into my dms trying to dom me right away.

Hi! Welcome to the place where I share my lesbian NSFW thoughts and fantasies to get over my shame about being a sexual being. This blog is not appropriate for children. I would also appreciate (non-sapphic) men not interacting with me or my posts as that would make me uncomfortable and a less safe space for me mentally. That being said I do not want to spend my time policing my follower list nor am I anyone's parent here so please evaluate for yourselves weather it is or isn't safe for everyone involved for you to be here.

You can call me E or any pet name that makes you happy :) I'm 21 years old and and I live in Finland. I'm a sub, femme4all, single, and a useless lesbian. My aim with this blog is to explore my slutty side in a safe way.

I'm a university student doing my bachelor's in social sciences. I'm planning to do my master's in gender studies and I'm a passionate feminist. Some of my hobbies are music (I play two instruments and in an amateur orchestra), reading, crochet, and sailing. My favorite tv show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, my favorite movies are Ratatouille, Spirited away and Call me by your name and my favorite video games are tlou games and No Man's sky on vr. I'm also a big animal lover and certified party girl.

Kinks I'm into: This blog is to help me figure out what I'm into, so I will be updating this post as learn more about myself. Some of my kinks are gentle(ish) coercion, unbalanced positions of power, free use, breeding (no pregnancy), dumbification, degradation and praise (not necessarily at the same time, lol), body worship...

DMs and asks: I definitely welcome interaction, because being slutty alone is boring. My asks are open, so if you have ideas of things I might like, I thinks you might wanna do to me, or just general wonderings or thought you would like to share, please do ;) or just say hi. My DMs are also open and I am open to making connections with people. By that I mean I won't participate in sexting or exchanging nudes without having at least some more pg conversation first. I also am not interested in messaging with people under 19 years old. This is based on my own experiences of peoples maturity and life situations, so even if it might seem arbitrary, but it's simply about what I'm comfortable with.

Some of my hard no's are watersports, scat, age play, incest, spanking

Claimed Anons: 🦖

Answered asks can be found under #E answers

[sapphicagenda]

I would crowdfund this for sure

They should revive the Carmilla webseries. Original cast, new stories.

Pass it on.