Listen if someone asks me what my sexuality is I'll say bisexual on weekends. My gender?? Ehhhhhh. Weekdays. Maybe.

Lesbian in theory, nun in practice😭

I feel so insane about ai. I've had face-to-face conversations with people who use it for therapy, who use it to calculate the safety of pill interactions, who use it for all their emails and grant applications and legal documents and academic papers and finance sheets and for every single question they have about the world, and if you tell them about the ecological costs they just laugh and say "I guess I've used a lot of water." and I've been in multiple gatherings of 10+ people where I'm THE ONLY PERSON who doesn't use chatgpt. it's turning me into a ranting raving pariah, because how don't you people see??? why don't you understand??????? this bullshit didn't exist five years ago, you absolutely do not need it, and it is destroying everything

Ah, yes, blond bisexual men with daddy issues and self esteem issues

we've got a life to love living.

predictions are locked in. 2026 is going to be a good one

you may think misogyny is good because it is made up of miso, which is delicious, and gyny, which is woman. and girl miso sounds great. but 👆 it is not girl miso

Making our oppressors do embarrassing or down bad shit for each other is merely a writers duty.

Write that old man yaoi it calls you

If you're not writing old men with "Traditional" Christian values bottom, then you're not doing it right

HAPPY YULE GUYZZZ

HAPPY YULE!!!

Apollo and Hades' entire relationship was never fully realised and I'll always miss it.

It wasn't even in The Rising Son. It might've been scraped all together. But, it's a relationship I will always mourn. Because the concept of it is hilarious.

Here's this boy, who's in a hate-love relationship with his father. If the myths are canon, then his uncle who's the embodiment of "How are you doing, fellow kids?" meme also hates him. And, then there's his oldest uncle. Who is also in a love-hate relationship with his father. Who loves his aunt (the boy's, not the uncle's) that he (the boy, not the uncle) tried to marry.

This uncle also loves his wife. And, his weird pseudo son that is not his pseudo son at all or a son or a nephew or even family. But, he hangs around long enough for everyone to get used to him. So, he's always there.

Now, the boy HATES this kid. And, that's to conceal his love for this kid. Because, again, he's his uncle's pseudo kid who's not really his pseudo kid or family and it'd be weird crushing on him. Especially after the whole "crushing on the aunt" fiasco.

Now, this uncle's pseudo son, who's not really the uncle's pseudo son, gets invited to all the family parties and events because of...your brother. Who this pseudo-son-not-pseudo-son slept with. The issue there is that before sleeping with your brother, he was in a relationship with you. Your uncle knows this. All of it.

What he doesn't know is your side of the story. So, you're a villian to everybody.

But, you still need to vent and go to a bar sometimes. The easiest and most reliable one that won't draw too much attention is your uncle's bar. That he opened for his pseudo-son-not-pseudo-son, but that's a different story. So, you go there and you drink and complain. And, your uncle, who's pseudo-son-not-pseudo-son heart you've broken, is there. And, somehow, despite it all, he actually does listen to you. And, gives advice. Harsh advice, but advice. And, somehow, you feel better after going there.

Then, when it all goes to hell, you turn to your uncle for forgiveness. And, he gives it. In the form of a way to actually help.

And, somehow, it turns out okay.

@ara-george

Them fr

We Didn't Start The Fire 3.0 is gonna be insane

Oh hey it got worse-

between names

I carry girlhood in my marrow,

though no one can see it anymore.

It flickers in me like a ghost,

a soft dress folded at the back of the drawer

I will never wear again.

I know the weight of walking home at night,

keys sharp between my fingers,

the knot of fear braided into every step.

I know the sting of being looked at

and not seen,

of shrinking yourself into safety.

That knowledge does not leave me.

It lives in the dark of my chest

like an old bruise.

Now, when I speak,

the world calls me “man.”

And I am—

I love the word,

the way it feels like arrival,

like finally setting down my bags.

But it also means

I cannot touch the sisterhood I once had.

I cannot enter the circle,

though I still remember the song.

I wish I could sit with them,

say: I know.

Say: I’ve bled too,

I’ve hidden too,

I’ve felt the world gnash its teeth

against my body the way you have.

But my voice is different now.

My shoulders have changed.

The door is closed.

I love being a boy,

but I grieve the girl I was,

because she would have belonged.

And in my longing,

I understand something terrible:

sisterhood is not just love,

it is survival.

And though I cannot stand inside it,

the fear, the hatred, the hunger

that forged it

lives in me still.

So I walk between—

a brother,

with a sister’s memory,

carrying her secrets in silence,

yearning,

yearning for the chorus

I can no longer sing.

My latest commission piece for @scribblesandink She stands where the waves meet the gold fearless, fierce, and free. If anyone interested to commissioning me for this type of work i'm open for taking comms and offering some discounts.

YES!!!! I absolutely loved working with you on this project! You were absolutely lovely and SO patient with me!! I look forward to working with you on future projects💜💜💜