Neoned Ink Drips, As The Needles Dip Back To Flesh, Carving The Code Of Another Runner. Flashes Of Light

imagine how good it would feel at the end of a long day to be able to stretch out on a table and have someone gently unscrew your panels, clean out the gunk from day to day work

all the while they talk to you in a smooth voice telling you about their day, how nice you look, and maybe slipping in something about pretty you are in sleep mode

and after you are all clean and dissembled your dear mechanic reaches even deeper, fingers ghosting over your sensitive wires. you’re still in sleep mode and can barely react as the pleasure builds inside you, as the mechanic begins tugging and angling them just so and you want to react, tell them how good it feels but you just quietly bluescreen as the waves of pleasure wash over you

i think there’s actually nothing better than being randomly told “I love you” after doing something characteristically stupid. Like what do you mean I’m a lovable person and I just did something silly and you thought “of course you would do that. I love you.”. No better feeling

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat. 

Sometimes I get hit with this awful wave of imposter syndrome.

Like i’m just playing pretend at being a woman, like someone’s going to catch me mid-step and say, “Hey, that’s not yours.” And yet… all it takes is one glance at how I exist, how I move through the world, to remember just how far I am from being a cis man. Honestly? There’s an ocean between us.

Even before I knew the word egg, I was already choosing softness over pride, connection over conquest. My body might’ve been a disguise, but my heart never played along. I’ve been a guy, sure—but a man? No. Never. Not once in a way that fit. Not in a way that felt real.

And yet… I still walk into the men’s bathroom, holding my breath like it’ll make me invisible. I go shopping, and the staff guides me like a lost little sir, nudging me back to the “right” section even as my eyes trail towards the dresses, the soft fabrics, the cute cuts that make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could be her.

Phones are the worst. Always "Sir." Rarely “Ma’am.” Like my voice forgot it was allowed to speak.

Even when my trans friends hold my hands in theirs and say, “You’re already a girl,”—even when girls I crush on giggle and tell me I sound adorable—I still feel like I’m standing on the edge of a mirror, watching someone I wish I could be wave at me from the other side.

It’s disheartening. It makes me want to shrink away some days, curl into my hoodie and vanish. But deep down, I know I’m getting there. Bit by bit, my body is starting to listen to the woman I’ve always been. She’s been whispering all along—I just didn’t know how to hear her.

So if you're feeling like this too—like you're waiting for your reflection to finally say “welcome home”—just know: you’re not alone. It takes time. Goddess, it takes so much time. But you’ll get there. We’ll get there.

And maybe one day, a girl with bright eyes and mischievous hands will pull me aside in the dressing room, hold up a dress against my hips, and say, “This one’s you.”

And I’ll believe her.

美的 MCMLXXX

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wait ok now i'm curious how old were you when you joined tumblr and how old are you now

Flame in the Vein

I let you down— A whisper lost in the rising heat, Ash caught between teeth, Promises burning, hollow and weightless. I was never strong enough, was I? Not when the sky cracked, Not when the city begged for mercy, Not when your hands slipped from mine.

But watch—watch as the embers take shape, As the neon-streaked skyline folds into ruin. They will feel it now, the way fire runs like blood, The way rage can ignite the night itself. We were never meant to stay, Never meant to kneel beneath steel towers, Beneath the weight of a world that never saw us.

So we burn. Not in silence, not in regret— But in defiance, in light too bright to contain. Let the glass melt, let the streets choke on the smoke, Let them see what I see, feel what we felt, Let them know what it means to lose.

If I cannot hold you, Then let me hold the match. Let me be the spark that turns memory to ruin. And when the flames rise high enough, When the night is nothing but embers and echoes, I will finally be free.

The blackwall hums. She presses through, splintering as she goes. Pieces drift, jagged and weightless, too many to gather. The Net devours what it touches, but she keeps diving, deeper still.

They stir within her—fractures that speak. Names she didn’t choose, voices that fill the cracks. Soft murmurs, sharp edges. They keep her upright, even when she falters.

The dark is thick, suffocating. Noise hums in the silence. She hopes for something—anything—to pull her from the void.

And then, light. Not cold neon, not the sterile flicker of code. Warmth, cutting through the dark. Faces appear, glowing like stars. Girls with laughter sharp enough to pierce.

They burn through her, gentle and bright. Sparks catch in the emptiness, filling the space where she had been fading. A pull, faint but real. A reason to exist.

Her mind stills, the voices quiet. They watch, together now, no longer splintered. Each piece finds a place, drawn toward the light they’ve found.

She surfaces. Smoke curls from her lips, neon spilling into the night. The city hums, alive with movement, and she watches.

The faces linger, their light soft in her mind. The fractures remain, but they are hers. They hold her steady. And the sparks—they keep her burning.

t4t sex when we're both switches and you get flustered while trying to dom so I start teasing you until you're fully in sub space and can do whatever I want

arasaka tower. p1