of the Pride book sale.
20% off all books, including skunks, not skunks, and everything in between. Poetry! Memoir! Sci-fi! Historical fiction! Contemporary queer fiction! Help support indie authors this month~
Author, Beat Sabreuse, Skunks
- she/her
- makyo.ink/
Recovering techie with an MFA, working on like a kajillion writing projects at once. Check out the Post-Self cycle, Restless Town, A Wildness of the Heart, ally, and a whole lot of others.
Trans/nb, queer, polyam, median, constantly overwhelmed.
Current hyperfixation: SS14
⏳ Slow Hours | 🪔 Beholden
🫴 Hold My Name | ✨ Motes
🌾 Rye | ★ What Right Have I
🌱 Dry Grass | ⚖️ True Name
🌺 May Then My Name
Icon by Mot, header by @cupsofjade
End Waking smiled wryly, adding, “And I do not think I am of much interest to any of them, anyway. I rarely leave, and I never enter a building when I do. I am more focused on my next meal than anything else.”“Skunks just wanna get fat.”
End Waking grinned toothily. “It is not not true.”
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Picture: two nerds hunched over their respective keyboards chuckling madly to themselves as they prepare posts in a Google doc, each occasionally switching which instance they write, turning around to ask each other questions, writing little I-love-yous below the draft for the other to see.
(Also the cladist is wildly, joyously autistic, and that is lovely, too.)
((Also Functor is like...a half step away from being a headmate, and may well just be Hold My Name playing a giant fucking joke on me.))
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