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lenialenient.bsky.social
Lenia "read Ambrosia" Lenient 🫑👁👁
@lenialenient.bsky.social
66 followers 92 following 150 posts
cutting edge new social media of lenia "el problema es el capitalismo" lenient, gay-friend-group-renowned author of books that are queer as in "off-putting to the general populace" | no genAI 🔫
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lenialenient.bsky.social
ah yes, the fateful moment in the apocalypse roadtrip novel wherein Noam finally has to drive Frieda's horrible, no-good, very bad car #wipsnips #writesky
Noam gestures from Frieda to the driver’s seat. “I’m doing navigation,” says Frieda. “I can do navigation,” says Noam. “Well,” says Frieda. They open and close their mouth, then laugh - sharp and short. “I can’t drive right now.” “What do you mean you can’t drive? Why not?” “I just can’t right now!” “Why!” “Because I’m-” Hand still on the bonnet, Frieda takes a deep breath, leans closer, and whispers, “-high as a fucking kite.”
December 19, 2025 at 12:12 PM
lenialenient.bsky.social
TURNS OUT my beloved pseudo-dystopian girlgroup novel got nominated for the #indieinkawards this year! I'm getting a bit shy in the company I'm in..... I'm just a humble farmer tending to my unwell lesbians...
Graphic of the Ambrosia cover, featuring a vaguely greek-statue-looking profile of a woman, melting in bright limelight like candle wax. Writing above: Indie Ink Awards. Writing Below: "Writing the Future We Need: Gay or Lesbian Representation"
December 16, 2025 at 8:40 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
I offer: This bit from The World Ends In 13 1/2 Days, wherein Frieda is extremely good at cheering Lowri up about the titular matter
“You’re not sleeping either.” “I’m just having a real bad case of FOMO,” says Frieda. There it is again. “Which is stupid,” Frieda adds. “I’m so fucking tired, it’s not like I’m gonna get up and do anything.” The feeling. Absolutely relentless, sticky like tar. “I don’t want this to happen.” “Well, it’s happening.” Lowri closes her eyes. Her lids twitch. Heat builds up behind them. “No one wants it to happen, but that’s just how it is, so you might as well do what you want – or whatever Gandalf said.”
October 16, 2025 at 9:55 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
from the ambrosia opening.... im kind of inconsolable about the fact that the novel that takes place entirely over the course of a made up award show does not have the word "prize" in it a single time

#wipsnips #booksky #writesky
Ruby grasps at Nova’s shoulders, sometimes her face when she tries to make her look up, and says either “It’s alright, okay?” or “It’s okay, alright?” or “Stop crying.” It might not sound very comforting, but in this one and only instance, it is. Ruby’s still holding her white award statue in one hand. The red polish on her perfectly oval nails is so bright against it I can’t look away. It’s chipped now, and she’s swollen-knuckled like me. She’s also shaking, which I’m not. “We’re okay. Stop crying.”
October 10, 2025 at 10:06 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
me, ten minutes ago: aw man i dont have that
me, five minutes ago: WAIT

#wipsnips #writesky #booksky #writingcommunity
“So – what?” I said, “You’d just go around decking people every time they brought it up?” “I also sued my parents when I was fourteen. Or tried to, anyway.” Summer stretched her arms, near boredom as if the last seconds had never happened. “Children are evil. Teens – even worse. Tell me you wouldn’t have come out of there with some juvenile assault and battery charges.” “I wouldn’t have come out of there with juvenile assault and battery charges.” “Boo, you hall monitor.”
October 9, 2025 at 11:16 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
One of the many joys of First Person Homunculus Perspective is that Alraun's lack of knowledge about... literally anything forces me to refer to a nurse bringing them pudding as "the goo-bearer" (and hence i have something for this #wipsnips prompt)

#writesky #writingcommunity
“Wait,” Janine slips through the door, looking frazzled and a bit wild in the eyes. Janine ushers the goo-bearer aside, and lowers herself to my eye-level in its stead. She rummages through her bag for a pair of gloves, strips them on, then sticks her hands in one of her pockets, then the other. Out, she pulls the bramble-being's berry and holds it out to me between two fingers.
September 29, 2025 at 9:50 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
another AMBROSIA snippie for #wipsnips !!
beware of injury description (or don't if that's your kind of thing)

#writesky #writingcommunity #booksky
“I didn’t know it was this bad,” I said. A pitch-dark bruise the size of a fist sat proudly in the center of her thigh. From it, a blotchy line trickled down to the back of her knee like someone had spilled ink underneath her skin. “It’s not a good look,” she said. “Take a picture?”
September 28, 2025 at 8:06 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
hello #wipsnips tag i am offering you sapphic activity once again
(don't worry about the blood, it's her own)

#writesky #writingcommunity #booksky
“You’re making that sound an awful lot like an offer, Moira.” “Oh, make of it what you will.” Summer dropped into an exaggerated shrug. “I wouldn’t think you’re fun like that but who knows? If you ever feel like you need to rage, you know where to find me.” I watched her carefully, waited for the laughter, the quirk of the mouth, or, alternatively, even a hint of shame. None of that. “You’re unbearable,” I said. Summer laughed. She tip-toed just close enough and swiftly flicked a streak of blood from my upper lip with her thumb. “You should try it sometime.” She gave my shoulder a pat, and strolled back into the recording studio like nothing ever happened.
September 27, 2025 at 9:56 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
#awesomecharacters ok i GOTTA bring Kiwi into this, who is liable to

- gesticulate in big sweeping motions that no one else understands

- speak in vague groans of misfortune

- make a face thats described as a "very close approximation of the grimacing emoji," as pictured here:
A young man in a leather jacket and upwardly styled hair that's bleached and dyed green. His frown is almost a perfect half circle. (This is my own art.)
September 26, 2025 at 6:03 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
AMBROSIA deleted scene, if you will
#ocart
Nova, Ambrosia, and Ruby watching footage of their own performance, wherein they are all stanced in power poses, wearing color-coded outfits. We see them from the front now. None of them look as glamorous as they do on screen, sporting hoodies and tank tops, hair unstyled. They look at each other with unsure faces. Behind them on the wall: a plaque that reads "Remember: Smile lines aren't avoidable - but frown lines are!" and a poster advertising VibeFood yogurt with the tag line "It's next to nothing!" The last member of the Moxxy group, Summer. She sits by herself, hunched with bad posture, chin resting in her hand, watching the screen impassionately. Summer announces: "We look like Winx Club."
September 25, 2025 at 9:27 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
'nother from the apocalypse roadtrip

#wipsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #booksky
The pre-apocalyptic suburbs are very different from the pre-apocalyptic cities. Curated flower patches and hand-raised tomato plants rear their heads behind the fences. They seem like the only survivors of a quiet, unknown calamity; aside from them, the place is already dead. Frieda’s Hyundai is the only car on the road. No one’s outside. With few exceptions, the lights are out. It is completely, utterly, silent.
August 10, 2025 at 9:18 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
bringing ya the apocalypse roadtrip novel again 🫴

#wipsnips #writesky #booksky #writingprompts
“Do you ever think we’re being defeatist?” asks Vivienne, she brushes her palms over the grass. “Don’t you wonder if we should be finding a bunker or something right now – stocking up on bottled water?” “Hm,” says Frieda, “I guess preppers are on a real ego trip right now.” “It’s just… weird.” Vivienne sits up straight. “It feels like, okay, the world is ending – shouldn’t we try to do something?” A few paces away, a group of university kids under a tree wave at them. Vivienne waves back. “Like what?” says Lowri. “We’re doing something,” says Frieda, doing their best to fit their whole hand into a Pringles can.
August 9, 2025 at 9:45 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
hello #wipsnips, today im presenting only the most tasteful hint of cultural imperialism critique
#writesky #writingprompts #booksky
“Any questions?” “Yes,” I said, I lifted my chin and steadied my nervous hands. “What do I need to be considered by one of the international labels?” By international, I obviously meant American. After a moment of quiet, a man at the end of the reviewer table said: “Good English, for one.” He spoke in English, to stress his point, and to show that it had only the faintest Bulgarian tint. He must’ve had something to do with the foreign communications department. “I have that.” English lessons at Radar Talent were more intense and frequent than they’d ever been at school. For years, I’d prioritized my ABC over my АБВ and every evening I sat in my room, practicing my th, w, and h sounds. After all, English was the language of music, showbiz, and media.
August 7, 2025 at 2:00 PM
lenialenient.bsky.social
way late but considering this prompt i am legally obliged to introduce you to Vitriol
CW for see-through glass homunculus with visible skeleton and organs 👍
#writingprompt
“And, also, the humans are not listening to a word I say. They will face the other way, or they will stare in horror, or they will evacuate their previous foods. I believe I’d be hurting our perception more than helping it. They do not like, at all, to look at me.” Brain bobbing back and forth in its cerebral fluid behind Vitriol’s entirely see-through glass head, it turns to Janine. “Am I wrong?” Janine, who has only as much as glanced at Vitriol from the corner of her eye for the past hour, says “Well.” “No one likes to look at you,” says Sagitta, perched on the chair across Vitriol. “Human or not.” “All the organs you see are organs you also have,” says Vitriol. It blinks its glass lids – though its big round eyeballs remain visible regardless – and raises one bone-encased-in-glass finger to point at its own brain. “Mostly.”
July 29, 2025 at 9:31 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
the lad who played the main hobbit from lord of the rings, in a golden frock, jubilant
July 29, 2025 at 8:37 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
today i am bringing you the apocalypse roadtrip novel and vivienne edith lucas five minutes after throwing up into the sink at an impromptu house party
#wipsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #booksky
Vivienne, as soon as she can turn her head without upsetting her sense of balance, opens the fridge and drinks two whole half litre bottles of water. She starts a third, but then comes to think that she’d probably, like, die if she drank it all, so she teeters out of the kitchen and pours the rest into the ficus. She stares at the ficus. She finds her phone and sends her parents the pictures of the Strasbourg cathedral. No one in the Lucas group chat responds immediately, which makes sense because it is the middle of the night – a new day! It is tomorrow! Fuck! – and if they aren’t sleeping they probably have something better to do. Vivienne’s head spins and it feels horrible and the bass of whatever bullshit Frieda has put on is louder than God and she’s alone in the world with the fucking ficus.
July 29, 2025 at 8:17 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
I'M LATE TO LINE SHARE DAY BUT HAVE IT ANYWAY!!

Alraun is the only homunculus who can tell pink from red and white from grey, thanks to a lifetime dedicated to the washing machine 😌

#LGBTQWriteAThon #queerwriters #writesky
He takes a book from his desk, holds up the thin little stripe of plastic that sticks out from between its block-like pages. “This?” “Pink.” He points at the desk. “White,” I say, “Grey,” I correct myself. He points at the wall. I think for a moment. “Beige?” The doctor turns around and lays his hands out on the (grey) table. “You have an exceptional understanding of colors,” he says, “Considerably above most of your… colleagues. Is that something you're interested in?” I don't understand the question, I think. “Laundry.” “Elaborate, please.” “The reds cannot go with the whites. They make pink.”
June 17, 2025 at 9:30 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
it haaaaas be a snippie from AMBROSIA for this
#writesky #wipsnips #writingcommunity #booksky
“You still owe me an answer.” “I don’t owe you squat.” “If you already hated being a public figure the first time – why would you do it again?” Summer looked at me as if I’d asked her why she hadn’t decided to grow any taller. “My birth,” she said, “was one of the most successful live-streams in history. I was literally born famous. It’s all I know how to do.” I considered that.
June 17, 2025 at 9:05 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
another beautiful occasion wherein this tag makes me very aware of words that i feel like i use but, apparently, DON'T

#wipsnips #writesky #booksky #queerbooks
The camera clicks, the camera clicks again, we change our poses as the photographer waves us even closer together. I can feel my body move but I can’t confidently say that I’m the one moving it. My mind is blank as a white sheet. “Perfect. Stunning.” With that, we break apart for air. The photographers are content. The managers are in their element – respectfully impatient. Without waiting for a cue, Summer marches off. Edmund attaches himself to her by the hip, speaking intently. My eyes trail after them as they withdraw, jaw tight, and I only really notice when Ruby tells me “Leave her be.” I readjust my stance.
June 12, 2025 at 1:09 PM
lenialenient.bsky.social
a long time ago ive let the internet bully me out of the a-spec part of my mostly lesbian identity and so writing Lowri (of the apocalypse roadtrip novel) be aro/ace and struggle with what shape love for her childhood friend can and should take is me sitting back down in my house
#LGBTQWriteAThon
“Mmm,” says Vivienne. “Everything today sucks.” The faint sloshing of the waves reaches for the Hyundai every now and then, seagulls scream. “Do you still love them, though?” Lowri chews on her tongue and feels like crying for the maybe 40th time today. “I barely know what that means.” “Romantic love. Platonic love. Familial love. You’ve got a range to choose from.” “You can’t explain a word using the same word.”
June 10, 2025 at 10:54 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
late to the party AND it is a bummer - i offer you the beginning of the Day 6 chapter for The World Ends in 13 1/2 Days
#LGBTQWriteAThon
When the travellers wake up with dry mouths, caked in sand, and painfully sober, the world is ending again. While it felt full of colour and shapes and sensations yesterday, the beach is all desaturated now. The sun is up high – suggesting that it’s noon or past – and shines bored and indifferent, like an office worker waiting out the last hour before they get to go home.
June 10, 2025 at 5:42 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
no moodboard, but have this old sketch of Alraun, the narrator of the homunculus novel. The inspo is, uh, fungus, as it is a humanoid mycelium network whose purpose is laundry and losing at board games. Dressed from the lost-and-found bin and currently getting into colored pencils

#LGBTQWriteAThon
A little uncertain looking guy who looks mostly human, with (what looks like) chin length black hair and big ol' black eyes, wearing an ill-fitting outfit comprised of a mid-length skirt, a shirt that reads "Heer for the beer" and two socks at different heights. No shoes. A slogan off to the side reads "The Modern Homunculus."
June 6, 2025 at 11:55 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
snippie for "street," rather than "avenue"

from The World Ends in 13 1/2 Days wherein, well, you know

#wipsnips #writesky #booksky #queerwriters
“I considered calling every person I’ve ever wronged and tell them that I’m sorry,” says Frieda, as the two of them try and fail to fit next to each other on the narrow pavement, straining their calves against the steep downhill path. Frieda walks a few feet in front of Lowri, which they always would, turning their head to look over their shoulder more than straight ahead. “And call every person that ever wronged me and tell them to go fuck themselves. But then I thought ‘what’s the point?’” The streets are neither bustling nor empty, both of which Lowri anticipated, somehow. The streets should be vacant because everyone should be at home crying and holding each other, and the streets should be full because everyone should be outside doing every drug and kissing strangers. The streets are moderately busy. More cars than usual. People are walking from A to B, now just faster. “If it was just me dying, I would’ve finished all my paintings,” says Frieda.
June 6, 2025 at 8:13 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
good god..
June 5, 2025 at 9:56 AM
lenialenient.bsky.social
> it is the beginning of august
> you're bad with heat
> the world ends in around 10 days
> you're trying to make plans

#wipsnips #booksky #writesky #writingcommunity #queerwriters
This remains the last conversational effort until they make it back past Clermont-Ferrand, turning down south onto motorway A75 toward Montpellier. At which point, Frieda turns the music back on, just ever so slightly more muted. “See, this is the perfect opportunity to cross Spain off the list, too. Barcelona should be a nice place to be anyway.” “In August?” says Lowri. Frieda turns to her with a big bright smile. “Would you like to postpone it to September?” Lowri rubs her face for a long time.
June 5, 2025 at 9:47 AM