fr4ct4l3y3

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I just think it'd be really funny if he

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Those posts lined up so perfectly on my feed I think I was blessed by Tumblr gods

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genius

Clouds・San Miguel de Allende, Mexico portra 400 film, developed 4/12/25

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currently on season 5 finale of the walking dead and yall i love rick grimes so much he’s such a man….like what a man yk??? he’s so fucking cool…just so awesome idk whenever he’s on screen i feel safe like it’s all gonna be okay.

even in his mannerisms and the cadence in his voice is so special to me. like u feel this protectiveness and strong will from him in that alone. but like his presence is so comforting like a real man should be….yeah like if i was in that group and rick just strolled in and took care of everything i’d be more than happy to comply with him. are u kidding me.

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WHERES HER PUSSY 😢😢😢😢😢

gadabout

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Aspen

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agatha cindy accidentally struck the ethel cain pose on two singles

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you have to be able to defend people who are receiving unjust treatment even if they annoy you even if you personally find them extremely annoying you still have to be able to stand up and say "well thats fucked up"

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mad jealous of cold hearted people. like how does it feel to not carry the ache of everything in your chest?

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I understand the impulse behind this rhetoric but please please please stop saying or implying that gay or trans or intersex people were the first or primary targets of the Holocaust or of Nazi Germany. That is actually just antisemitism.

We can talk about persecution of queer / trans / intersex people, both now and under the Nazis, without engaging in historical revisionism or antisemitism.

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Is he a scary man covered in blood? Or is he my baby girl? Spot the difference

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Joy Sullivan, from “These Days People Are Really Selling Me On California”, Instructions for Traveling West

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february

i am marching into april with the bones of february on my back and i am not sure what to make of the flies that swarm around my head. the vultures shade me from the sun. i miss you. you were there to end february’s life but when march arrived you grew colder and bluer than the corpse i now carry. i watched you wander away into perhaps and found you in may. i dumped the bones on poor blushing april when i saw you from a distance - my heart raced when i found your silhouette on the horizon. now it’s june and we’re warm again. your indigo cheeks now glow scarlet and your frigid hands softly cradle my tear stained face. oh, now it’s july, and you glow golden sweet, oh, now you’re the sun, now you’re the heat and now you’re everything, now you’re life. and now here i am sunburned and peeling, shedding, and turning brown - and now so do the trees. and it’s august, still so warm, and sweat melts sugary from our brows. when we swim fish find our feet in the lake. and when we’re out we strip and we’re cold and you forgot towels and it’s september and everything has turned yellow. and your golden hair begins to sink back into dusty tan and our skin is dry and we stay in bed and october passes us right by. i blame you for robbing me of that orange day in the park, you blame me and my stubborn need for comfort because i wouldn’t let us leave home. but october is gone oh well and now we shiver on the front porch and the orange i missed is preserved in the sky as the sun sets down…. where does it go? where does it go in the autumn when it stops being your skin? i make vanilla tea and you complain it’s too sweet. what can i offer you that isn’t as sticky as your kindness, or as your accidental and casual cruelty? december is here and we waited for it for so long. there is no more warmth in either of us. we sleep in different directions, your head at my feet and mine at yours. i bought new blankets for you so you’d stop hogging mine, but you’re still stingy. we promised we’d get each other gifts to ring in the new year, but january comes, and we’re both empty handed. so we spend this blue month’s tears up and desaturate everything till having open eyes becomes so bland it’s torture. hand in hand, we meet our pink girl, february. she is kinder to you than she is me. i want her gone. you agree it might be necessary. and since i bought you blankets, you technically are in debt, or so you’ve decided… so you help me end this february, swiftly and silently, and we build her a casket, and i lift her over my shoulders. i turn around and all i see is your back.

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Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

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ethel you are the only woman ever

heaven forsake the masturbator

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6/6/24

you bike home from the mall, and i follow, and it's like you are the sun and i am the sunflower and you trace an upside down smile across the sky, and i watch and follow with an ever-open eye, so i don't have to miss you when i blink.

you mirror me when i stretch on your bedroom floor, and it's like you are willing to learn me and i am, in that moment a masterpiece, and you are an onlooker in a museum, and the signs say no flash photography, so you learn my shape with your eyes and remember it in your limbs.

you kiss me, my mouth and neck and shoulders and lift my shirt and kiss my sides, my stomach, my chest and it's like open heart surgery, done by a dog, with teeth so sharp, he could tear out my organs, and leave me in shreds, but rather than tearing and pulling, and puncturing with your razor- sharp teeth, you use them so precisely and with such great caution, my heart is opened, and it is yours, and it beats and bleeds, and all the chambers are painted your favorite color, a fresh bruise, a sweet plum, the color of royalty you treat me as.

and i kiss you, and you pick me up and carry me and make me a home inside your home, and you are so soft and tender, and oh! i am at home because i am where my heart is- between your lips, and softly grazing your teeth, and traced on the edges by your hands, and i am kissing the walls of this home, i am tasting this home, i am here and i am feeling free, and i am seeing lights, in pink and red and purple, and i think, heaven exists right here, in this boy's bedroom, and this boy met god, and god gave him a body like spiderwebs, and sunrises, and beach sand, and beach salt, and green moss, and fresh flowers, in a clear glass vase, and summer heat that sleeps on grass, and i am cradled in everything i find beautiful.