I got ORANGE GAY... what type of gay are you?
i'm vibe checking all of you and you have no say in the matter
Red gay, accurate
*boulevard of broken dreams starts playing*
the best word to summarize you is passion. you feel things very strongly, and can be all-or-nothing with emotions. people often describe you as intense, which also has to do with your competitive nature. despite coming off as intimidating a lot, you don’t mean to seem that way, and actually crave connection and intimacy. it’s difficult for you to trust people enough to achieve that, though. not everyone gets to see your more relaxed and friendly side, but when you do let people in, you hang onto them with everything you have. you match best with blue and green gays.
Commentary: What We Inherit: and what we find on mountainsemlynlua
a poem abt being trans
you can read it here (cw blood)
if yall have feedback on my poems i appreciate it!
if you enjoy my writing and wanna help support me i would really appreciate if you could send me a few quid over on ko-fi
What We Inherit: and what we find on mountainsemlyn-scribbles
Ceris was born to blood.
Blood followed her, and she fascinated
in its scarletry, its metal tang.
Her mother oozed it from her lips and
Dirt masked her body.
She smothered herself in imitation,
Her mother, after all, could
grow crops on her skin.
Sometimes rains stormed from her and
her mother would answer with thunder.
So Ceris rained in secret.
The soil was heavy on her:
clodded clay in clumsy arrangement,
a fen where nothing could grow.
Sometimes she would lift her head
from the roots and their bustling
and scrape herself to the tip of a mountain.
From here she could see the fields below,
the landscape laid out -
so small, and wasn't that comforting?
And here she could pick
at her clay coating.
He could wear the sky instead,
billowing out from his shoulders.
Haloed by the moon,
the were-man can become.
He gives his blood to the earth
and returns his name to the rocks.
He takes new names -
from the trees, the mountains,
the screaming sun.
They invented lunacy to spurn the moon.
And if sometimes the sun's children
cry his blood-written name
he simply looks.
And does not swallow their blood.
And does not swallow.
the other side of the oceanterranova
my hands are oversized and fish spawn inside of them.
they nibble at my thumbs,
pale, blind, and open-mouthed.
they are waiting for something i can't give them,
but i hold them anyway.
i place them on my tongue.
in the back of my closet i tell the fish
that i appreciate them, and i stroke their fins.
i bite through their slender bones
and imagine they taste like you.
(they taste like silt and guilt and the dark things
you and i kept secret in the palms of our hands.
sweaty and broken and so
likely to slip away from us)
lying in bed i slide a hand between my legs
and feel the hard pulse of the bottom feeder,
cold with fruitless anticipation.
i remind myself that i'm a nobody, that i
am still waiting for you.
and blink my tiny, sightless eyes.
I made some emoji-size edits of twitter's lgbt & trans flag svgs:
feel free to use them however you want, no credit needed!
absolutely no one:
me: what if gen 3 flareon sprite trans flag?
my pronouns are [awkward silence] / [slightly longer awkward silence]
So it's Ace Awareness week or smthn, so here's a shoutout to all my ace peeps who are sex positive. It's never talked about when we want sexual relationships but how fucked it feels to not experience sexual attraction.
So shout out to all of those who get it and understand. Sometimes its very confusing to be ace and that's alright~
i love the feeling of safety u get from being around other queer ppl....like, finding ppl who you know at once respect gender feelings and will be full of gay yearning with u? priceless. magnificent. perfect.
G'day mates, what a wonderful day to cherish nonbinary people!
good afternoon everyone what a wonderful time to cherish trans women
Is that the famous "really gay house" right across the street from the westborro baptist church? Because if so: what does it feel like to visit our nations greatest and most important monument?
You bet it is, and it felt great until i got back to my college campus only to find WBC people protesting gays on the corner of campus.
They're too late though, my queer little hands have touched too much here.
Thankfully nowandays theyre just a huge joke. No amount of protesting they could do will ever stop queer people. They're fucking stuck with us (as the ancient proverb goes).
me: sure would be NICE if someone would get a crush on ME for a change
someone: gets a crush on me
me: i dont.. want this
aroflux........ viscously vacillating between aromantic and A Romantic
The Rainbow House | 📷: [shimmertje](https://www.flickr.com/photos/shimmertje/1888027115/ "shimmertje on Flickr)
I've decided that being aspec is the best thing in the world and I love it
I know that aromanticism and asexuality are generally defined by a lack of a certain attraction, but let’s remember not everyone in the community falls into the “does not feel it whatsoever” category.
We have quoi- folks who don’t distinguish these attractions in a defineable manner.
We have grey- folks who occasionally, mildly, or possibly experience these attractions.
We have demi-, lith-, fray-, and recip- folks who experience these attractions sometimes.
And I’m sure a few others that I couldn’t think of right away. Attraction isn’t all-or-nothing. Aromantic and asexual might imply zero attraction, but let’s remember to make space in the communities for people who feel minimal or occasional attraction, or are removed from the concept entirely.
The sun is a butch lesbian and the moon is her fem girlfriend but the sun has the long hair and the moon has the short hair because neither of them are white
The sun, Sol, is a south-east Asian jock with golden skin and long dark hair that flows down to her waist. She keeps it a braid or a twist when she wants it out of the way, but when it's down it spreads like sunlight across all it can reach, wild and warm and beautiful.
The moon, Iah, with skin as dark as the richest volcanic soil, and hair a delicate silvery white. Her dense curls are kept short, close to her head, so that from behind she looks like the full moon, and as she turns to face you the white of her hair is eclipsed by her midnight skin, just like the waxing moon. Cool and gentle eyes watch carefully, a glint of mischief behind them.