Kitty Twat
@sillygoosecocaine.bsky.social
480 followers 320 following 5.2K posts
Artist. 👩🏾‍🎨 Writer. ✍🏾 Pirate bae. #ofmd 🏴‍☠️ #helluva ho.🦉Old men kissing-lover.👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 she/her? I hardly know’er! 30-something with no talent, just vibes. Banner by@ohtangerines Insta: alia__renee Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/K3K1F6EOX
Posts Media Videos Starter Packs
Pinned
The world has a hole in it.

"Fucks sake," Ed grumbles, closing-out Twitter with the afflicted sigh of existentialism. Or pessimism. These days, he can hardly tell the difference. "Just a wasteland of bullshit."
Damnnnnn lmaooooo 😂😂😂😂
Reposted by Kitty Twat
some of you have never dug through the ditches or burned through the witches and it shows
Reposted by Kitty Twat
Whoever made this sign please dm me I’d like to send you a little love letter 🏴‍☠️🇺🇸
His godmother also doesn’t approve of the hotdog costume oh my goddddd 😩😭😂
Got my little man back. For how long? Who knows. But I feel so much better already ❤️😌 (got him a hotdog costume for Halloween but my grandma said it’s gonna make him too tasty looking to hawks and owls and bigger dogs and she was DEAD serious 😂)
Reposted by Kitty Twat
🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
I can’t count its 4 🤦🏾‍♀️
I had three massive drinks on the floor by my bed this week and my straight friend was like “if gay becomes illegal again you’d be passing until they saw this shit” 💀
🌙
—or maybe still does, in some corroded corner of her soul.
“Fuck!” The woman growls as another flash of lightning burns the glass and lurches her shadow across the greenhouse. 

Mary. 

Mary, who pressed her cheek to his shoulder on nights he was too drunk to stand and walk home from dinner. Mary, who loved him once—
His breath tangles in his throat, choking him quiet. He drops low, back curling as he vanishes into the wide, flared leaves of a plant Stede could name blindfolded—every nerve stringing itself tight, begging him not to twitch.
A click at the estate-side door, the one on the other end that he can’t see from here. 

“Selfish dick.” A woman’s voice, ragged, split down the middle.
Reposted by Kitty Twat
The whole room flinches as for a blink, Ed is completely exposed—his shadow slithering between rows of green and clawing tall across the walls in a grotesque mural of a man caught red-handed by God himself, who was, it seems, watching all along.
—breath dragging rough as his gaze cuts through aisles of hulking leaves and ghost-white orchids for Stede.

Where are you, babe?

The storm answers instead; and as storms rarely waltz with subtlety, lightning slaps white against the panes with the flat palm of Zeus.
It sticks to the back of his tongue, crawls into his lungs and makes him feel trespassed upon even though he’s the one fuckin breaking and entering. He scrubs a hand through his dripping hair and pushes it out of his eyes—
He swallows hard, heart thudding like some manic drummer-boy marching him toward victory or the gallows—he still isn’t sure—and shoves the door open.

The air—humid and rank with the musk of damp soil and the cloying rot of blossoms past their prime, swallows him whole.
The ember hangs, glows, gutters to ash—then turns away long enough for Ed to slip past to where the greenhouse rises at the garden’s far edge, its glass ribs rattling under the storm.
The last—the last fuckin thing Stede needs is Ed blowing their cover and getting cuffed on a trespass charge by one of the Bonnets on today of all days. 

Flick. Flick.

Then, the flare bursts, sputters, a tiny star trying to live and die all at once in the staffer’s cupped hands.
The man frees a cigarette from the pack in his pocket then fumbles with a lighter, none the wiser, and Ed quickly presses into the hedge as he wishes like fuck he could sprout branches and leaves for limbs.
A shadow swims across the curtains of the east wing before the side door creaks open and a staffer steps out under the awning. Ed’s heart drops into his stomach and out of his ass as he seizes mid step—caught, cornered, fuckin finished.