Latest Posts by 4-everette - Page 3
that's tough talk for someone who's chewtoy shaped
A not-so-little secret about me?
I wrestle with apathy and dissociation more often than I'd like to admit. Some days, it’s like I’m watching life through fogged glass, barely present, barely real—but still feeling something. And when I can’t speak that something out loud (which is often), I write. Words become my pulse, the soft way I cry without sound.
Sometimes those feelings come out in tears, sometimes in longing, sometimes in these strange, tender aches I can’t fully name. Maybe it’s the estrogen making me soft and weepy. Maybe it’s the autism making it hard to explain why I care so deeply while seeming like I don’t care at all. Maybe it’s just being a transfem lesbian in a world that doesn't quite know what to do with our kind of magic.
But every time I sit down and spill my sapphic, yearning, overly poetic nonsense into a post, it’s like I’m whispering a little love letter into the void—and hoping someone soft and gentle hears it. Maybe a girl with kind hands and a teasing smile, someone who’ll read my words and want to tuck a stray hair behind my ear while telling me I’m precious, even when I don’t believe it myself.
This is my poetry. These silly, emotional, queer-laced words I scatter online like flower petals. And if you're here, reading them? Thank you. Truly. I hope you feel them the way I meant them. I hope they wrap around you like a warm hug you didn’t know you needed.
And maybe, just maybe, I hope someone sees the girl behind the words—and wants to hold her for a while.
reblog to cum on your mutuals
reblog to activate prev's shock collar
it's not a red string of fate those two are bound by dog collars and a steel chain
Reblog if you're a perverted woman with dubious motives
the trans girl estrogenized puffy nips are some of the hottest things to ever fucking exist and you will never convince me otherwise
Reblog to bark for me <3
Nobody will ever match the raw, unfiltered power of a transfem with autism and internet access.
Like, you think AI could replicate that level of intensity? That chaos? That ability to hyperfixate on folklore creatures, learn a dead language for fun, and still cry because a girl in a video game was nice to her?
There’s a whole genre of posts on here that’s just us—neurodivergent trans girls—softly screaming into the void together. Swapping strategies for surviving sensory overload, mourning friendships that fizzled out under unspoken rules we never learned, and comforting each other in comments like,
“I literally can’t go into stores without dissociating.”
And then, inevitably, someone shows up in the replies like,
“I’m not autistic or anything, but this reminds me of how I used to cry when someone rearranged my dungeons and dragons dice.”
Like… sweetheart. You are one special interest away from joining the coven. Just kiss a cute girl who also gets overwhelmed in fluorescent lighting and admit you’ve been one of us all along. 🌈
We’ll welcome you with open arms and noise-cancelling headphones. There’s tea, there's sapphic yearning, and yes—there’s a group chat entirely dedicated to analyzing the autistic-coded vibes of cryptids and background characters. You’d fit right in. 💕
I’ve noticed something kind of tragically hilarious.
most trans girls on Tumblr are either running horny blogs, quietly battling clinical depression, or both. Like, the sacred rite of passage seems to be crying in a hoodie that smells like girl sweat and regret… only to pause mid-sob, scroll past some gorgeously drawn or written smut, and casually reblog it with a tag like “me n my gf (manifesting)” before going right back to spiraling.
It’s honestly an entire mood board: chipped nail polish, thighs half-shaved, heart in shambles—but the blog? Impeccably curated with soft porn, cursed memes, and big gay energy.
We're not okay, but at least we’re hot, gay, and terminally online about it. Tumblr’s our little church where we worship by thirsting, crying, and healing in the weirdest, most beautiful ways. Bless this chaotic little girlhood. Amen.
dreams