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“TERFs and transphobes know that the biggest leap forward for gay rights happened when people realized that people they knew and loved were gay, and they are terrified that this same shift will happen with trans people when enough of us are able to live openly”

Homosexuality is decriminalized in India!! 🌈🌸

India’s Supreme Court has struck down a colonial-era law criminalizing consensual gay sex, overturning more than 150 years of anti-LGBT legislation.

She was a girl

Can I make it any more obvious

Both hella gay

So now you all see

bringing in a better future

where he is forever godly

& so am i (no longer a drowning naive mortal)

& so is our love

my wings make up the wind

carrying his troubles far away

a hused, “rest easier now (be calm)”;

every freckle that dots my skin

is a sign of warmth and joy

from him, prominent touches

signaling brighter days

& i blow a kiss towards the sky

& i know it is in his artistic hands soon after

he sends one back down, i fumble for it,

holding it close to my heart

as i fall back into the ocean of jade green grass beneath,

dreaming of finally meeting him in the light again

if yall mlm and nblm blogs can make a shoutout for this new blog full of pink gay love thatd help me a ton!!!!

i have spent my life in the dark and deep the whispers of old gods were my cradle songs the bone-crunch of their steps lead me home you are not like them you sing of words and worlds i cannot comprehend you are blinding, brighter than any sun you are not for the likes of me my moon-bleached hands my eyes so sensitive to the light i reach for you anyway on wax and feather wings i press closer you rejoice, i think, at my nearness the ear-shattering cries are either joy or agony my blistering hands grasp at your light my wings, meant for cold places, drip onto my face oh my love, won’t you catch me?

boys who are as tiny as quarks but seem larger than planets.

boys with constellations of freckles.

boys whose hair shines with starlight even in the dark.

boys who sing of the cosmos.

boys whose every movements are like the orbit of a planet around its star.

Reason 1: It’s a compromise, nothing more You never kiss. Kissing is for people who haven’t faith hanging around their neck like a thick old fisher-rope. Kissing is for boyfriends and girlfriends, for husbands and wives, for people trying to save the world and not the ones determined to burn it down. Kissing is not for the people with hollow holes inside their chests and vodka-blurred eyes. Kissing is not for you. You’re sitting cross-legged on some cheap king size bed with dirty sheets, in a motel outside of your little hometown. He sits at the end of the bed, legs on the floor, elbows on the knees and naked torso bent over while he counts and flips money bills with quick flicks of his wrists. You see a clunky flash of silver studding in his tongue as he licks his lips. The roof of your mouth still tastes like the cheap vodka that came in electric blue plastic bottles. You lean forward until your chin rests on top of his edged shoulder. What do you want? he says at some point, warm breath gracing your cheeks. Maybe we should get Thai, you suggest. He turns around, swift motions and hard grips, and suddenly you lie under him. Your spine hits the mattress hard. Maybe I can give you something else? He pushes your legs apart until you can see his neatly manicured line of dark, wiry hair trailing beneath his navel. You want to lick it. Maybe, you say and lick your lips with deliberate strokes. He attacks your neck. Kissing is not for you.

Reason 2: You’re too much co-dependent You’re sitting on the roof of his house, sipping some kind of drink someone mixed you. It’s a sky blue color with dark navy sugar crystals around the rim of the cup - it looks delicious but tastes like straight out of hell. Burned whiskey and coconut fruit. You feel tired. You’re gone for half an hour when you hear the flat pace of another human being on the roof. He flops down next to you. Don’t wanna talk, you say and drink another gulp of the strange substance. It pours down your throat like a thick, succulent juice. You suppress a cough that catches behind your row of perfect teeth. Too tired for words. You don’t need to say anything. You already feel too much. He doesn’t say anything either. He laughs out once, loud and cackling, but the sound is a hollow cry like a wounded animal. You watch his pulse beat beneath the thin layer of pale, bluish skin. When he reaches over to push your head down on his collarbone you do nothing to stop him. The faint trace of weed and sweat is familiar to your nose by now so you bury deeper between the pointed bones of his chest until you feel the familiar pain of burning tears behind your eyes. His fingers dig hard against your skull. You don’t mind.

Reason 3: There will be no Happy Ending You watch him and another boy. For anyone else it looks like an argument or some kind of misconception that only spilled blood can settle. But you know it’s not what it looks like. It’s not like that. Careful spit insults and bloody knuckles make room for something else. For more. A sleek sliver of a taboo you were not sure existed for either of you two. Something inside of you, right between the fragile bones of your ribcage, rips furiously. You push yourself off the ground and fade between dark shades. When you’re far enough to ignore him, you start to run. This is not a love story. It never was.