Teaser Of My Current Wip Bc I Rather Write Gay Sex Than Sleeping (it’s 1am)

Literally waited a whole ass year to write my au cus my writing skills were ass for a foreign language speaker like me ,,; errrr yea, I also had few doodles of this au, though I’m not sure if I should share them on here again bc they’re ugly as fucking hell🥀

Yep

Old doodles/sketches

I got into Mouthwashing guys…

⋆˙⟡ painfully beautiful

🍁 ⏜ ۫ . ⟡

Hi, I’m Spaghetti and I’m currently 16 (November 18th), I go by they/them and I’m autistic.

　　　　𝜗𝜚 - I love making art—from drawing, to painting, to music, to writing and more. I’m a bassist and I’ve been playing for nearly 5 years now.

　　𝜗𝜚 - I enjoy lots of music genres, and my favorite musician ever is David Ellefson!

　　　　𝜗𝜚 - Currently really interested in renaissance art, Greek gods and seals.

I do take requests, but under the following rules:

　　　　. No incest

　　　　. Nothing related to piss, poop, vomit (kink wise, other that is not related to that, I’m fine)

　　　　. No romanticized pedophilia (nor anything ending with -philia)

　　𝜗𝜚 - other stuff that is nothing related to any of the above statements, I’m completely fine, as such as: smut (with/without kinks), fluff, hurt/agnst, I’m not sure if I could write murder? I could always try, and also age gaps.

　　　𓈒ㅤ ૮ ֗ ⠀⠀ most active ⠀

( ၴႅၴ　　art & main: theunfrgiv3n (Instagram)

　　( ၴႅၴ　writing: Spgheteee (ao3)

　( ၴႅၴ general: theunfrgiv3n (TikTok)

My link tree for all my other socials here !

My discord is also @theunfrgiv3n !

Sorry for not posting anything new, I don’t have any new works yet. ( ´ ᯅ ` “)

I have this urge to delete all my fics and start over, I hate my works so much bro

I stand here, wrecked by my own hands, caught between the person I was and the one I’m forced to be. God’s gaze is cold, distant. I wasn’t made for this, this body, this life. None of it feels real. It’s a cage I didn’t ask for, a skin that never belonged to me. I look at myself, but I don’t recognize the person staring back. My face, my eyes, hollow and empty. I wonder if God makes mistakes or if I’m just part of some cruel design. A soul condemned before it had a chance.

Everything feels wrong, and yet, nothing feels real enough to care. My body is a prison, a place I don’t belong. I scream inside for someone to hear, but there’s only silence, like I’m trapped in a place that won’t let me go.

I pray, but I don’t believe. I’m not worthy of mercy. I never asked for this life, and yet here I am, broken, rotting under the weight of something I never chose. And still, I keep going, dragging myself through the motions, because what else can I do?

But the truth is, I don’t think I was meant to be. This flesh, this life, it was never mine to control, never mine to fix. I was never meant to be whole, and maybe I never will be.