- “and even as our bones grow old and later turn to ash, the love between our souls is ageless and forever”
will byers stan first human second
official daine visual archive
Stranger Things

★
RMH
hello vonnie
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Love Begins
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Cosimo Galluzzi

PR's Tumblrdome

tannertan36

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
todays bird
noise dept.
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@emma-kid
- “and even as our bones grow old and later turn to ash, the love between our souls is ageless and forever”
1929: Russian dancer Natacha Nattova balancing on a round decorated object, draping a black veil from her chin.
my year of neither rest nor relaxation
John Gavin and Janet Leigh behind the scenes of Psycho (1960)
sanyu, "pink cat," 1930s, oil on canvas
PATRICK TABERNA
Codie, 2011. Sarah Moon. Toned silver gelatin print
The many eyebrows of Merle Oberon, 1934
—Mary Oliver, from Mindful
ACTUALLY sorry not to get #2personal but this is something i’ve been thinking about deeply over the past several months, so! a question i see a ton is, “how do i know if i’m a butch girl or a trans guy?” followed by a litany of reasons why either label could apply to the asker - and of course, you are the only person who can answer this question for yourself, and there is no right or wrong way to go about exploring your identity. but. if you are really torn, if both feel true for you, if you feel like you’re wandering around in a weird, illegible grey area: you can sit down and make that grey area your home. you are allowed to do that. you are not invalidating butch women or trans men as political classes by doing that. you are not necessarily on a quest to come down on one side or the other. non-binary identity is real. bigender identity is real. no matter how messy or inconvenient or illegible your gender identity may seem to outsiders, it is still real, and it is beautiful and it is yours and no one can take it away from you. there is a long and rich history of people who felt the same way you do, and you’re not alone.
John Cassavetes and Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
picture this: a vampire throwing handfuls of insects to a swarm of bats like an old man feeding pigeons in the park
obsessed with this comment
Ramon Navarro and Greta Garbo in MATA HARI (1931)