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My crystal fingers are laser-enabled light comes out of me like dawn. Bright orangecream killpink sizzling tangerine deathglitter. “The Melancholy of Mechagirl” by Catherynne M Valente

i love cooking with my trans girl friends. i feel most at home in a kitchen after dark and the extractor fan humming in the background and it's all humid and a little steamy from boiling pots. dark outside too. orange within. i used to look forward to getting shitty takeout when hanging out with people and that for sure has it's merits (baja blast) but oh isn't it nice to light a burner yourself. especially on a gas stove, even if they're like a bit shit. this must be categorically true because adam ragusea told me it. and there's so much shit about passing or being beautiful as a tgirl being losing weight or whatever. fucking yawn!! i'd not care for an ounce of that ever again if it meant that i could ask my friend to change the music whilst my hands were covered in half-kneaded pizza dough forevermore. make it a sex thing or a morals thing or a community thing: creating food from scratch is one of the kindest things we can do for eachother. when i was in san diego molly would go and put coffee on every morning whilst i styled my hair (takes forever). it was the incest coffee brand. you know the one. but i really liked that she just knew to do that. it just fits together. everything just fits together. cook your trans girlfriend or your trans girl friend or your trans girlfriend's girlfriend something nice someday

there is something very lovely and sisterly in the world that all trans women get to share with eachother. don’t ever forget that

items at the bottom of the bed have coalesced into the "yuri pile"

me and molly look so alike and have so many pictures where we're wearing each other's clothes sometimes its genuinely difficult for me to tell whos who

my girlfriend and i wish each other's birthnames goodnight sometimes, let them know they're still thought about, still being looked after. tucking ourselves in, together. when we do this i feel a warmth inside me unlike any other, a feeling that reminds me of just how foolish it is to have ever followed the narrative that any aspect of being trans at all is a suffering

if it really was a "good friday" i'd be having problematic t4t sex right now

soooo many posts trying to engage with the concept of, ahem, "afab trans women" on some kind of like even linguistic playing field. don't do this to yourselves. next time you're thinking about engaging, just say the magic words: "you can't even frot."

sissification captions with cis women in them is stolen valor. put some clocky broads in there! now!!!

emulating a sixteen year old wii game to use it as a picrew for the indulgent purposes of making myself and my gf

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bizarre nowadays when porn blogs follow u and they have like actual content on that u have to witness as u block them on mobile. anyway i cant stop thinking about this. Order our hormones Therapy now

go ahead. book a flight

if our tranny hands are so abhorrent and male to the point of being your first port of call clocking litmus test then why do they feel so safe and right holding eachother. why do i feel so small (positive inflection) and seen when she holds them. why do her thumb and mine play together with such a serene innocence