I'm Totally Normal About This

the potion seller discourse is insane. cop walks into a chemist's lab and demands pure undiluted morphine. chemist says hey i don't make this for human consumption. cop insists repeatedly, crying, shitting himself. in no way is the potion seller in the wrong here.

reblog to headbutt previous blog like a kittie cat 🐾 miauw mau meow

Manifesting 🙏

Wish me luck on my interview today!

Giggles during mean, nasty sex is a requirement, actually.

“let’s run away together” trope fucks me up bc it’s almost always doomed. but what if it’s not this time.

reblog if you have skilled writer friends and you're damn proud of them

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?