Beer & Candy Sandwiches

Emily. queer/white/cis/22. People I'm crushing on: Gloria Anzuldúa / Swoon / Stacyann Chin / Janet Mock / Natasha Trethewey / Nikky Finney / Maluca / Gabrielle Calvocoressi / Jiz Lee / Eduardo C. Corral / Junot Diaz / Terrance Hayes / Jesmyn Ward. Things I Like: Poetry / Hard & Soft Femmes / Butch Queers / Iceland / Intersectional Feminism / Yellow Mustard / Queer Stuff / Nail Polish / Tattoos / Cats / Baking. This is a NSFW blog.

[hardfemmesoftfemme-blog]

aaaah okay, so i don't update anymore and i'm sorry to anyone actually keeping track. hope y'all have a nice time of it out there.

go kiss some faces and eat stuff together.

if you're into that.

[alwaysshopchic]

[funnywildlife]

[paperwhistle]

dance

[fullyclothedifloataway-deactiva]

Visit Original Link

Bonita Applebum by A Tribe Called Quest

[kidsinthe90s]

[tropconnu]

single and ready 2 flamingle

[studsandpeaches]

OMG I WANT IT

[jasonmewes]

[mattfrombusted]

[thinkreese]

Mixing metals. Stackable rings —-> www.reesiiie.com

[hghprkr]

[hardfemmesoftfemme-blog]

basically.

[sugarykittens]

[000000snf]

How to Be Adorable 101

[amajor7-deactivated20210823]

[hardfemmesoftfemme-blog]

#newtattoo.

[bratclub]

[shinji--moon-deactivated2017123]

And this is how we danced: our mothers’ white dresses spilling from our feet, late August turning our hands dark red. And this is how we loved: a fifth of vodka and an afternoon in the attic, your fingers sweeping through my hair—my hair a wildfire. We covered our ears and your father’s tantrum turned to heartbeats. When our lips touched the day closed into a coffin. In the museum of the heart there are two headless people building a burning house. In case of rain, there was always the shotgun above the fireplace. Always another hour to kill—only to beg some god to return the seconds. If not the attic, the car. If not the car, the dream. If not the boy, his clothes. If not alive, put down the phone. Because the year is a distance we’ve traveled in circles. Which is to say: this is how we danced: alone in sleeping bodies. Which is to say: this is how we loved: a knife on the tongue turning into a tongue.

“Home Wrecker,” Ocean Vuong  (via beautyisanillusion)

[weirdwoman83]

[hardfemmesoftfemme-blog]

same.