I Would Save So Much Money On Pickles If I Had One

Just let me hold ur spleen for a few minutes

she’s a 10 but she’s a little too into wanting to see your organs

fyi i will be extending some dark tendrils across the sky later today. just a heads up

Funniest bot DM I've gotten. Like this actually got me interested cause like yeah I like granite. We can discuss granite

Dear 0 followers, get faggoted

reblog this to be an annoying faggot at ur followers

HEY GUYS!!

GUYS!!!

FRANCE HAS REACHED THE REQUIRED NUMBER OF SIGNATURES ON THE CITIZEN'S INITIATIVE AGAINST CONVERSION THERAPY IN THE EU!!

ONE COUNTRY DOWN, SIX TO GO!!

We also need still quite a few signatures in order to reach the one million required.

As to date, the six other countries with the most signatures are:

Spain - 38.72%

Finland - 30.31%

Ireland - 24.86%

Netherlands - 24.15%

Germany - 23.54%

Belgium - 23.09%

So yeah, still a long way to go, but we ARE slowly getting closer. Don't stop now! Don't let this stay within the community, either, if you have any friends or family who are open to queer rights, get them to sign, too!

Me n gang

in honor of gar week! did you know gars are prehistoric?? i wish i was prehistoric…

How It Starts

It’s innocent at first—just two trans girls sitting way too close, sharing mirrors and brushes, pretending this is just about eyeliner techniques and not about the way our hands keep lingering on each other’s skin. You tilt my chin up, fingers brushing my jaw, and I swear I forget how to breathe.

By the time we’re negotiating our little trade—you’ll teach me how to wing my liner if I do your dishes—the tension has already shifted. The touches last a little longer, the teasing gets a little bolder. The compliments start flowing, layered between giggles and stolen glances.

"Your lips look so soft with that gloss."

"Your skin is so smooth—I could touch it all day."

And then—

It’s in that moment, breath catching, fingers hesitating over soft, shivering skin, that we both realize:

Trans girls who get flustered when you compliment them are so cute, like…

And suddenly, one of us is saying it out loud. Come here so I can feel how hard you are.

The words hang between us, thick with heat, a teasing challenge wrapped in a promise. Eyes flicker, lips part, and suddenly, we’re not pretending anymore. The playful touches become something else—gravitational, inevitable.

One moment, we’re giggling over how clumsy we are at getting each other’s tops off, fingers fumbling over straps, buttons, fabric that suddenly feels far too complicated. The next, our laughter is swallowed by gasps and soft, desperate moans, mouths crashing together in messy, lip-gloss-stained kisses.

Fingers tremble against bare skin, tracing curves we’re still learning to love, gripping hips as we grind together, slowly, achingly, lost in the heat. The world outside doesn’t exist—just us, two desperate girls making up for every moment we were denied this kind of love before.

Breathless, needy, we praise each other between gasps. You’re doing so good. You feel so good. Hands roam, nails dig into soft flesh, and for once—just this once—there is no shame, no hesitation.

Just pleasure. Just warmth. Just us.

I am all for this but why the windex??? Why do you need to drink windex first???

At this point I just wanna drink windex and wander into the forest, never to be seen again. Living out my life as a creature of the woods, terrorizing the local dog walkers and leaving that group of college students that hang out in the parking lot every Thursday evening with a sight to remember. I shall become a local urban legend and a gang of high schoolers will write a radio play about me in which the twist is that I am not the real monster and I devour the real antagonist.

Look at this fucked up guy