Bonus!

if women are bourgeois…are men disco?

view on tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLHSbm38/

*wakes up from school induced delirium* are drunk drivers valid if we live in a car dependent america suburban hell experiment and addicts are stigmatized and unable to get help most of the timmeeee like what then

cunoesse I love you so much. I may draw you. for the good of fujoshi kind, a sister in arms.

even the most masculine men still tie little bows on their shoes

Disco Elysium’s “lungs are for love” really stuck with me. As a singer I’m aware of my lungs all the time, and now they are a subconscious way we can take in the world. They expand, and fill with the particles of whatever city we inhabit. Everyone’s lungs and their insides look a little different. Harry and Kim’s could be stunted due to their smoking, I think this could be connected to their stunted capacity for love, and how painful it is for the both of them to not only love themselves and other people, but the world around them. Lungs fill up and breath love into ourselves and the world around us. If you are a smoker and had polio, could you not take in enough love?

Sleater Kinney @ The Grog Shop in Cleveland, Ohio, May 2000.

photos by Ben Houck

Something about it being a presidential election year means I have to regress into my interests and fandoms from previous election years. 2020 had Haikyuu, Saiki K, MHA, Sk8, and other anime’s 4 teens that I am rewatching. 2016? Easy. Last night I lay awake at night thinking about Naruto. Let’s go back even further to 2012. Disney fairies are BACK and they are IN.

If I don’t finish my essay at least the birds will still be chirping. If i fail Econ at least the sky will always get dark and the evening breeze will pass through the trees that are able to sprout and I can touch the flowers that blossom. I can look at the sunset and let my feet drag on the dirt if my GPA dips below 3.5.

what’s news with you?

my butch4butch & t4t illustration for the upcoming issue of @belovedzine​​ 💌🏳️‍🌈  

p.s. : i made a ton of color variations theyre under the cut 

p.p.s. : lyrics from nothing by petite league:’)

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