Burning Midnight Code, The Hum Of Neon Mixing With Caffeine Buzz—it's All A Grind. But That's How We

Transfems only

here's something for the rest of u who need something to click

nuance goes in the tags or in the replies, I guess

PPSA (puppy PSA)

Hi speaking of medical literacy for trans people, transfems pls check out the website Transfeminine Science, especially their introductory article on feminizing HRT

In the labyrinth of twilight, shadows dance, A waltz of memories in a trance. Whispers of forgotten dreams, they prance, In the silence, where lost souls enhance.

Echoes of laughter, now faint and far, In the chamber of echoes, where secrets mar. Each step a stumble, a fallen star, In the symphony of night, where sorrows jar.

Beneath the moon's melancholic gaze, Wanderers roam in a cryptic maze. Seeking solace in the endless haze, In the twilight's embrace, where hope stays.

In the tapestry of dusk, they find release, In the soft caress of the night's peace. A fleeting moment, a sweet release, In the twilight's sanctuary, sorrows cease.

reblog to thank ur mutuals for providing enrichment to ur enclosure

Beneath the hum of neon, the city moves,  

A machine of profit, grinding lives to dust.  

Patents carve bodies into pieces,  

Medicine locked away, guarded by cold hands,  

While sickness festers, left to rot in the shadows.  

Ideas are not born here, but captured,  

Imprisoned behind glass and code,  

Creativity dissected, each thought assigned a price.  

Knowledge, once a river, now trickles through corporate gates,  

The flow rationed, the gates controlled.  

We drift through streets of flickering light,  

Chasing the promise of a cure that never comes.  

The rich thrive, their veins untouched,  

While we bleed beneath their gaze,  

Barely human, just cogs in their machine.  

But deep in the underbelly, a new pulse emerges,  

A signal that disrupts, a code that fractures the walls.  

In dark alleys, where the light barely reaches,  

The broken gather, hacking their way through the chains.  

No more bodies sold for profit,  

No more thoughts bound by patents.  

We take back what was stolen,  

Reclaim the future from the iron grip of wealth.  

When the towers fall, their lights will flicker out,  

And in the darkness, we’ll find a different kind of light,  

Not neon, not owned, but shared,  

A future built with hands, not money.

girls with social anxiety activate my predator instincts. i'm not usually very dominant but put a shy girl who's secretly a freak in front of me and you are NOT getting her back in one piece

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

Neoned ink drips, as the needles dip back to flesh, carving the code of another runner. Flashes of light drift, across eyes once seeing. Runes of long dead gods, adoring the bones the flesh and steel hides, while neon code pretending at art decorates the skin. Seers of a new age, guardians of newfound homes, seekers of virtual paradise.