Finally! Country of origin is in the profile... 🤍🖤🔪🩸💋 Suck. My. Fuck.

Grey doesn’t walk into a room; the room rearranges its atoms to make space for the gravity she carries. That martini? It’s not a drink. It’s a loaded gun pressed to the temple of mediocrity, olive gleaming like a single green eye that has already decided your fate. And

Be still, my beating heart.........💋💋💋

Goodnight, my darlings… your Grey is folding herself into the dark with a smile that still hasn’t faded. Tonight has been wild, electric, beautifully unhinged... the kind of night that reminds me the world is watching, and more importantly, that you’re right here with me while

The sun didn’t rise today... it submitted, spilling that thin gold like a slit throat across the horizon because it knows damn well whose footsteps are about to hit the floor... You don’t wake gently. You enter the morning like a blade enters flesh... clean, certain,

Definitely... Take note of this development. And do not, for one motherfucking second, brush it off and take it lightly.

She moves like the moment before the blade falls: no announcement, no mercy, just the soft hush of silk parting air that has already decided to die. Many have mistaken that hush for invitation. They lean in, drawn to the lacquered calm, the lowered lashes, the way her

Darlings... I'll return in a few hours. I have something I must do. 🤍🔪🩸🖤💋

I’m back, my wicked darlings… and the dark just straightened its spine. Did you miss me? Because the shadows sure as hell did...they’ve been pacing like starving wolves, waiting for my footsteps to come slashing through the silence again. I didn’t return soft. I didn’t return

I swear it on the blade that has never known mercy and the ash that was once screaming kingdoms. By the silver skulls knotted in my hair, trophies ripped from crowns too slow to bow, I move like snow that has learned to cut throats. My skin is cold porcelain over a

She doesn’t ask the night for permission. She signs it in lipstick and smoke. The glass is only a prop, a dark mirror she uses to watch the room watch her. She lifts it slowly (not to drink, never just to drink) but to let the wine breathe her name across the rim. One

Broken quills and bloody fingers...that’s how truth is written. Not with polite ink. Not with soft hands. Not with the trembling apologies of people who crumble at the sound of their own heartbeat. No. Truth... real truth...demands a cost. It chews through the delicate. It

OK... I was challenged to write a children's bedtime story by Captain White Guy🇺🇸 (Todd)... So this is entirely not my genre... But here we go... "The Little Shadow Who Wanted to Stay Up Late" Once, in a quiet room where the moonlight spilled across the floor like spilled milk, there lived

Goodnight, my darlings… come gather close while the dark curls its fingers around us. The sky is sinking into that deep, dangerous black I love... the kind that tastes like secrets and slow-burn sin. And I’m slipping under with it, not fading, not softening, just letting my

The dawn didn’t rise for you today... it lingered, trembling, kneeling just beyond the horizon like a lover who knows one glance from you will ruin it for anyone else. You don’t wake. You surface slowly, peeling the night from your skin the way a blade slides out

The saint is awake. The ribs have been parted with the same reverence once used to open reliquaries. The heart lies bare beneath the lamp, pale and luminous, still trying to pray. First incision: a hair-fine line along the outer pericardium. You vowed poverty of desire

OK. We shall see how this goes. I'm hoping they maintain full transparency here because this is incredibly important for our country. We have a foreign grifter problem. I have no problem with people from other countries... What I have a problem with is people from other

A personal story of death and rebirth, of deep understanding and of unflinching, unbowed rejection of fear. Seattle, mid-20s. The city was always wet, even when it didn’t rain...like the sky itself was sweating something it couldn’t name. I lived in a apartment on Capitol