You Make Me Feel Seen With That I Hate This Pose Lemme Redraw It Fifty Times In The Beginning. Thank

You make me feel seen with that “I hate this pose lemme redraw it fifty times” in the beginning. Thank god I’m not the only one who does that.

Aquarium date!

Total work time 109 min

How dare you be this fucking talented bitch. This is amazing.

Sour lemon-yellows, mean dragonfruit-reds and lovely cherry-pinks make the prettiest of wallpapers. These color variations of 'Grown Distant' are up for my Patreon/Ko-Fi supporters!

The Patreon, and the Ko-Fi 🐦

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again.

As much as people romanticize pregnancy, it is NOT A HEALTH NEUTRAL STATE.

That’s not even touching on the fact that yes, pregnant people get murdered all the fucking time.

In general pregnancy is terrifying if you aren’t ready for it, or even if you are and something goes wrong that you can’t control. And everybody acts like you should have sunshine and rainbows coming out of your ass just because of the potential of new life.

I’ve never been pregnant. I want kids in my future but definitely not now, and if I was currently pregnant I’d be fucking terrified to know I live in the US.

I’m serious. Eclampsia. The shots so you don’t kill a baby with a different blood type than you. Being unable to keep foods down, being unable to sleep due to constant pain in your back, the expensive and yet still necessary doctors visits. The potential for anencephaly. Constant pain from your organs being shoved aside in your own body, by your own body. The potential for your fetus to die and being unable to get it removed because abortion is inaccessible in your state. Miscarriage. Bleeding out. Ectopic pregnancy. Sepsis. C-sections, which on their own are horrifying until you remember that those doctors cut through 7 fucking layers of flesh, rummage around in your abdominal cavity, pull your organs out and put them on a table to get a fucking baby out of you, and then just stuff that shit back in Willy-nilly and sew you back up- which is PAINFUL. The potential for your body to be so strained from pushing out a baby that you literally split open and tear yourself from cooter to poop shooter. Even more fetal Complications. Back-labor. Post-partum depression, anger, suicidal ideation, anxiety or psychosis. Pregnancy induced constipation, incontinence, or even diabetes.

All. of. it. Is. Terrifying.

But nobody talks about the fact that people are somehow expected to want this for themselves. To be happy because pregnancy is sunshine and rainbows according to a male societal standard. And that somehow if they don’t, they’re the weird ones for not wanting to torture themselves and put their lives on the line for a human being they’ve not even had the chance to meet yet. That doesn’t truly exist outside of their body or think or have conscious thoughts yet.

Genuinely. It’s FUCKED UP. And the US also just leaves moms to fend for themselves too without any support for recovery after having a baby too. Maternal or paternal leave isn’t guaranteed. Some jobs won’t even grant it to you (if they even offer it) if you fall pregnant before working there for a certain period of time. You might get six weeks. You might get less. But then you have to figure out what to do with a six week old infant that needs to be fed, like every four hours, your titties hurt, you’re leaking milk if you’re able to lactate, you can’t pee without using lidocaine, you still can’t sleep, baby is crying all the damn time, and you now, while still dealing with post-partum side effects, have to find a stranger to sit around and leave your newborn with and pay a ridiculous amount to do so, because you can’t not survive without working. Even if it feels like you’re running on the fear of death and adrenaline, you are still killing yourself to suddenly make these new changes work and just survive, and that’s supposed to be a happy thing?????

No, I wouldn’t blame a damn soul for getting cold feet and backing out of having a kid. That sounds like the most horrifying reality to live in, and yet people are forced into doing it all the time. That’s actually fucked up and twisted in ways I cannot put into words. It’s worse than any war crime I can imagine, which are already vile and unforgivable, but this finds a way to somehow be even more depraved because a government is letting lobbyist and religious zealots force this upon its own people. The people it relies on to give itself funding, arms and most importantly, its power. A power that is supposed to be use to protect its people that is being horrendously abused.

I don’t think anyone needs to be a woman to be scared that we’ve fallen to this point.

The number one cause of death in pregnant women is murder. Think About That.

Like right now? I can bust that shit out rn.

Ahem, ahem.

The sky itself seemed to have been painted like oils on canvas as the sun slinked down over the silhouetted tree-line, pops of color in the form of innumerable wild grasses and flowers so abundant it stung at the eyes, illuminated and joyously glowing with the fading golden light. Winds oh-so-gently kissed longingly at the clearing, grasses swaying in time with their wistful embrace; that same timeless dance that whispered gently at the skin of one’s ears with the brisk chill of oncoming night. The stars spattering across the sky, unabashedly inviting themselves onwards into the streaks of lilac nightfall. The swaying grasses lapping gently against the skin of calves with tender touches, the sound of a gale blustering past, roaring in the shells of ears as the last of a wayward storm was pushed into distant memory of the dewy land that subtly gave way underfoot. The scent of nectar and petrichor wafted up as peat and flowers were crushed under heel.

It couldn’t have been more perfect if it tried.

How was that? Up to par?

I’m absolutely wearing the most shit eating grin and idgaf. I have the opposite problem. I would describe a scene for an entire page and forget about plot points in favor of waxing poetic about sensations and sights. I’m begging you, do not encourage me like this.

I’ve been like this since my queer ass was in the fourth grade. I could never finish shit on time.

writing challenge! describe a single room. or like. anything that is happening outside of the conversation. an outfit. something, anything, please

No. It’s not supposed to anyways.

You’re also supposed to be able to see the leaves on trees from afar, not just blobs. That discovery is courtesy of a six year old me getting her first pair of glasses and confusing the shit out of her mother on the drive home.

Get your eyes checked love 💜

(I mean that with the most tender of love, I have severe astigmatism in both eyes. You do, in fact, need glasses my dear.)

Don’t send this to miles you’ll kill him dead.

Phoenix with his hair down.. he looks unrecognizable it's pretty scary I know 😔😞