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“You can’t taste a memory without tainting it with who you have become.”
Hoid stop being insufferably insightful for one godforsaken moment.
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that unemployed transfem you like to complain about is going through so much shit right now. job applications become a whole new kind of hell when the world at large views you as a pest.
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exiting my years long slumber to post abt Her
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Transhood is not a fetish. You do not get to fetishize who we are. I genuinely don't view saying this as kink shaming because people are not a kink. It doesn't matter what your reasoning is.
If you're fetishizing transhood, if you find it "hot" that our genitalia "doesn't match up" then fuck you. My genitalia is not your kink, My transhood is not your kink, and my existence is not your kink.
It's the same exact shit as fetishizing someone because they're Asian. It's fucking gross and weird and you're a bad person. I'm not a fucking "futa" I am not a fucking "sissy" I am not any of that shit. I am a woman. Plain and simple.
If your attraction to me is based on my genitalia, or because you view me as "something in between", or anything like that, stay the fuck away from me.
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14 meeting 16 would go well. definitely. one hundred percent. yep
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Tired: The Billie Piper Doctor should meet 14. Wired: The Billie Piper Doctor should meet Jackie Tyler, who absolutely hits the roof that the Doctor’s stolen her daughter’s face.
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The year is 2056. The 30th doctor is David Tennant. He took over from David Tennant. His companion is played by David Tennant. The villain is David Tennant as David Tennant. The showrunner is David Tennant. You hear a knock on the door. It's David Tennant. He gives you a pocket watch. You open it and remember who you are. You were David Tennant all along.
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People always say, “Don’t make being gay your whole personality,” like it’s some kind of insult.
But honestly? Being gay—being soft and strong, tender and wild, yearning—isn’t just a personality.
Especially as a trans girl, Pride means everything. It’s the celebration we weren’t allowed to have growing up. It’s catching your own reflection in the mirror and smiling because—finally—she’s there. It’s kissing another girl under rainbow lights while people cheer. It’s holding hands in public even if your heart races. It’s painting your nails, tucking your voice into sweetness, learning to walk in heels, or boots, or barefoot through the grass—whatever makes you feel like you. That’s not just pride, that’s magic.
This Pride Month? We’re not shrinking for anyone. We’re showing up. Drenched in glitter. Lips glossed. Flags waving. Hair smelling like strawberries and rebellion. We’re flirting at protests. We’re giggling in the face of hate. We’re falling in love with women who look at us like we’re made of galaxies—and maybe we are.
And yes, we’ll talk about it. Loudly. We’ll gush over our girlfriends, post pictures of our thighs and our joy, cry over songs that feel like they were written for us. We’ll talk about being trans. We’ll talk about being gay. And we won’t whisper it—we’ll shout it, sing it, moan it if we want to.
Because when you’ve fought this hard to become yourself, loving out loud is a victory. Being soft is a rebellion. Being openly, unapologetically queer is survival and seduction.
So this Pride? Don’t just exist. Thrive. Swoon. Tease. Rebel. And let every gaze that lingers a little too long know—this is what love looks like, baby. Queer. Gorgeous. Trans as hell. And so, so proud.
💖🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈💋
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the torchwood team would have killed conrad with hammers
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