Giggles During Mean, Nasty Sex Is A Requirement, Actually.

Has this one been done yet?

any trans girl born after 1993 can’t think… all they know is good puppy, charge her vibrator, bark, kiss her owner, eat kibble & whine

Reblogging for posterity

God I fucking wish I'd seen a video like this 5 years ago

What a slobbery little pup you are, huh? Always drooling over one thing or another... Usually it's me that makes you drool though, isn't it? I wanna hear you say it. Tell me "Goddess, you make me drool sooo much" like the airheaded mutt you are.

And you know what that drool is perfect for, runt? I'm sure you do. Now get to it...

*click click!*

Good puppy.

(x)

Trans girls will do anything except go to bed at a reasonable hour.

We’ll lie in bed staring at the ceiling, scrolling through old messages, overanalyzing every compliment we’ve ever received like they’re sacred texts. We’ll sit in front of the mirror at 2 AM, whispering sweet affirmations to our reflection, testing out new names under our breath just to see how they feel.

We’ll get lost in the glow of our screens, reading sapphic love stories, fantasizing about a world where we don’t have to explain ourselves—where a girl calls us hers without hesitation, without doubt. We’ll try on that one perfect outfit in the dead of night, twirling in the dim light of our room, feeling beautiful in a way we never let ourselves during the day.

We’ll stay up because sleep means letting go, and we’re not ready for that. Not when there’s still so much of ourselves to discover, to claim. Not when the night feels like the only time we can be unapologetically us.

Or maybe, just maybe, we’re staying up because we know she’s awake too. Somewhere out there, another restless trans girl is doing the same thing—scrolling, dreaming, waiting. And if we reach out, if we’re bold enough to send that late-night message, maybe we’ll both have a reason to sleep a little easier.

But not yet. Not tonight. There’s still too much to want, too much to feel.

And besides, who needs sleep when we could be whispering our deepest desires into the quiet of the night, where no one but the stars can hear?

oh you poor thing... you can’t stop thinking about that tentacle can you? you can’t stop thinking of how big and powerful it is, thinking about how heavy it must be, how it will slide into you so slowly and patiently and how each inch will feel more intense, curling up inside you as you give into your true purpose as a vessel for pleasure

you should be able to interact with trans women without expecting them to fuck you or talking about how much you wanna fuck them. this is like the bare minimum