Happy Cum On Her Mainframe Thursday To All Who Celebrate

I'm lying in bed awake with my gf who is very much still asleep. Just sort of scrolling Tumblr and enjoying my time here. When she sleepily rolls over and pulls me into a cuddle, then whispers "Mine" in my ear. I'm swooning. This is bliss, I look over to her expecting her to be a little awake, but no. Sound asleep as her breathing goes back to that deep sleepy breath. I may have not been physically seen, but even in her sleep, she knows what I need. I love being trans, I love being a lesbian, I love being hers, I love her. This is what it's all about folks.

Puppy has a crush, and it worsens every time I see her. She cooked me lamb roast and drank wine with me. I've literally been wined and dined. She said that kissing is weirdly intimate to her as well as holding hands, and she held my hand and kissed my cheeks and neck. We talked for hours, and she even paused one of her favorite movies to talk and tease me. My brain is fried. This girl is way too pretty for me. She likes holding me, and her lips are soft. I want her to hurt me, I want her to crush my windpipe. I want to feel that softness melt away into base desire, but I also long for that softness. I want to take it slow and steady and go at a more relaxed pace than I'm used to. Idk what I want, except her tbh.

Someone needs to be into them

hi i love you mutuals who have kinks im not into <3

"I ate my twin in the womb" big deal, I ate my twin last year.

When you kill a healthcare ceo, it’s terrorism. When someone shoots your kid in elementary school, it’s thoughts and prayers for like a week and then they move on. It truly shows the fact that terrorism is whatever the american government wants it to mean.

lukewarm take but i personally do not give a shit if poor people cheat a system that was designed to fail them anyways. i also coincidentally do not enjoy the taste of boot rubber

It’s not really about what you do to become trans.

It's about that quiet moment—somewhere between the silence and the sigh—when you stop fighting yourself. When you stop holding your breath and finally let her in. That girl who’s always been there, under the weight of pretending, performing, surviving. You don’t become her, not exactly.

You remember her.

She’s not new. She’s the echo in your laughter, the rhythm in the way you move when no one’s watching. She’s the softness in your voice before you ever dared to make it real. And when you finally look in the mirror and whisper, “I see you,” she smiles back like she’s been waiting your whole life to hear it.

It’s not about the clothes. Or the name. Or even the hormones.

It’s about permission.

It’s about finally saying, “I want to be me,” and not backing down from what that means. Even if your voice trembles. Even if the world doesn’t get it. Even if some days you’re just so damn tired.

And gods, when that moment comes—when you let her out and she stretches into the light—it’s everything.

You walk different. You laugh different. And suddenly the world feels possible.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there—some sweet girl with paint on her jeans and mischief in her smile—who’ll take your hand and say, “Hey. You’re kinda cute like this.” And your heart will stutter in your chest, and you’ll realize that being seen like this, loved like this… it’s not a fantasy. It’s your truth.

You were never becoming a different person.

You were just learning how to stop hiding the one you’ve always been.

Ruff arf! Collies!!

take your kids to work day!!