when you get a masters degree youre allowed to respond to your professors emails with “ok love you”
Three Goblin Art
noise dept.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

JVL
Today's Document
RMH

Kaledo Art

shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day

oozey mess

titsay
Monterey Bay Aquarium

izzy's playlists!

Product Placement
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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@philtatcs
when you get a masters degree youre allowed to respond to your professors emails with “ok love you”

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me in my head at the supermarket: nobody is ever going to fucking love me. omg 25% off
Richard Siken, “Snow and Dirty Rain,” Crush (2005) // Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)
[”We have not touched the stars, / nor are we forgiven, which brings us back / to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, / not from the absence of violence, but despite / the abundance of it.”
“All this time I told myself we were born from war—but I was wrong, Ma. We were born from beauty. Let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it.”]
Poetry prompt: David and Jonathan
he presses one palm to the center of your chestsaying, here is the wound where the lightbleeds in. he never tries to pin you beneath himas if you were a starling meant for dust,
only holds you at night when you needhim to, lets you be the wild river of yourself.you cup his face in your hands. you the lyre-mouthed peasant king, he the echo of a prince,
dyed red by unthinking hands. he’s seen youwith giant’s blood under your nails, with myrrhdripping in the curls of your hair, with the lordrain-storming behind your human eyes,
& he is not afraid of the death-sharppoint of the lance his father hurls at his heart,nor missions where he wades alone upstream,dagger in hand. not afraid of you or this.
once, you massaged olive oil into his adolescentscrapes; now, by the firelight, as cherubimwatch through the reeds, he kissesyour wrists, sits up to look at you with damp,
shining lips. kadosh, kadosh, kadosh.how this convening tastes of blessings,nectar-sweet. how this love floods & floods,unending.
maybe what the queer Jesus content we REALLY need is a poem about judas and Jesus making out
somewhere far away the crickets singof the night’s heat, but oh, you are here,pressed against him among the olive trees,body to body, heartbeat to heartbeat.
he whispers, ‘it will hurt,’ with his dark handsin your dark hair & you laugh recklessly: ‘let it.’he whispers, ‘i will have to die,’ with his softlips on your soft throat & you shut your eyes.
'if you need me to do this, i shall.’ you oncethought long ago he was all divinity,no flinch to his blood, but you can feel himtrembling. 'i’m not afraid,’ you choke out,
'of any names they might brand onto me.’he grasps you tighter, saying, 'i choseyou. i love you. remember that.’ & what morecan be said beyond this? swallows may sleep
nested in temple eaves, but when he offersyou his mouth, he the holy altar made flesh,again, you never appreciated being awakequite this much. somewhere far away
sweet lily blooms are opening themselves under the constellations, but oh, here his skinis as cool as a river & you burn like a shadowfor him, you ache, so humanly tender.

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THE GAY DANCE FLOOR, a composite blackout poem of three Washington Post articles on the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, for the first anniversary of the event, by Keaton St. James
“then, we became the wound pleading for the dead. / the first moments were filled with dark. it’s totally different now. we’re all still grieving but underground the 49 names of the dead asked us / for real healing. so we returned to the gay dance floor, leaving candles and flowers for them.”
(patreon)
we must protect min yoongi at all cost
the best of taejin in 2018: a series
vmon for @vmony (happy birthday!!!~)
BTS in 2018

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my 2019 resolution is to live deliciously
I was at a party last night and this weird nerd guy was screaming and punching the wall whenever he missed at beer pong and I cornered him later and I was like “Hey, can I give you some constructive criticism?” And he was like “Uhh ok.” And I was like “People would like you a lot more if you weren’t going around screaming and punching walls like a fucking creep.” And he got really scared and asked “Are you going to kill me?” And I literally dont understand how he got that from what I said. I think I’m scarier than I realize.
you shoulda killed him just as a power move
I would’ve said, “Not this time.”
Now promise me

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Chapter 208 mood