things that 15 year old me did sophomore year that my southern-bred god-fearing conservative christian teachers Did Not Like
- teacher refused to let me sit backwards in chairs. i made a point to sit backwards in chairs until she told me to stop, and then id manspread as much as possible. (semester one.)
- teacher got onto my friend and gave her a panic attack over her newly dyed hair. i told her my friend putting red streaks in her hair was no different than her removing the grey streaks from her hair. got sent outside. (semester one)
- teacher told me my bra strap was showing. took my bra off in class and put it in bag. was sent to principal’s office. mother was called, although she only muffled her laughter over the telephone. (semester two)
- [to homophobic teacher who disliked my mothers] “what language is gaelic from? gayland?” “that’s where my moms are from, ma’am.”
- teacher claimed i was lying about moving to uruguay and tried to force me into sitting in a personal meeting about my future classes and goals. told her to “sign me the fuck up for underwater basket weaving” and got sent outside. (semester two)
- was told by teacher that “ladies should not say they have to pee. try ‘can i use the restroom’ instead” replied with “alright. i gotta piss like a racehorse. can i use the restroom?“ (got sent outside. again. semester two)
- was told to “smile, you’ll look nicer” by a 6′0″ male coach i did not know. when he blocked my entrance out of the classroom until i smiled for him, i said “shove it straight up your ass,” before elbowing him in the ribcage, ducking under his arm, and running for it. skipped class in that building for a week. (semester two)
- hopped a fence to catch my bus and flipped off an ancient male history teacher when he shouted at me to come back. he threatened to find me again. he never found me.
“Teacher told me my bra strap was showing. took my bra off in class and put it in bag.”
Oh my god that sounds amazing!! This is great haha
(via goblinbutch)
So a teacher in my friends’ class told them he had grounded his daughter for wearing make up at school, and turns out that the next day every single girl in class had slapped the brightest blood red lipstick they had and there was a line in the bathroom to apply knife sharp, enormous curves of winged eyeliner on everyone and they looked like a legion of warrior goddesses on their way to avenge their sister, so when the teacher came in the room his face just FELL and he kept avoiding the girls staring at him during class, so they started raising their hands and asking questions about the subject to force him to look at them, and if you don’t think girls are amazing when they get down to battle you are missing out on something glorious
(Source: deactivatedblognumber1, via clockwork-mockingbird)
If Snow White literally had “lips red as a rose, hair black as ebony, and skin white as snow,” she’d look like a walking nightmare.
honestly this sounds like the description of a vampire. Which would also explain how she convinced seven dwarves to let her stay with them. How she could control some animals to do her bidding. How she could sleep for a long time without aging. Why the hunter betrayed the queen for her, and why the queen wanted her heart, so she could be sure she was killed properly.
the first baby is born in may, and dies in his sleep. the second does not make it to term. the third lives for a year before an unknown illness claims him. the queen pricks her finger on a needle: old magic. blood on snow on an ebony windowsill. the wind carries the the contract, and the woods accept.
blood now must be repaid with blood later, but the fourth baby is a girl, and she lives.
*
she grows slowly, and out of order. first her hands, long and bony; then her arms, thin, hollow-looking. she never looks quite like a child: no chubby cheeks, no skinned knees, no missing teeth. her hair is thick and so black it sometimes seems viscous. her skin is so thin you should be able to see the blood running through it.
they name her snow white, for the fairness of her skin. so fair that she cries when left in the light too long.
*
the queen dies when snow white is four, still small, and beloved. she is not beautiful, her mouth too painfully red, her eyes too liquid dark, her teeth too pointedly sharp. but only those who do not live in the castle think this. to know the child is to love her. to know the child is to want to please her. to know the child is to know that she is precious.
that she must be protected. that she must be obeyed.
“it is not your fault,” the king whispers to the child on his lip, petting her head. “she was not strong enough. i will make sure you never go hungry.”
the child presses her tiny hand against his cheek. “i know you will,” snow white says.
*
peasants begin to go missing. young boys are snatched from the fields. women are summoned to the castle and never seen again.
“gifts,” her father calls them. “eat. you are too thin.”
the girls are always silent, and the boys always scream. snow white hates it. she wishes they would stop, but she is hungry. she is so hungry. and doesn’t she have the right to survive? isn’t she a child, too?
but her mother’s blood is the only food that ever made her feel full. now she can eat and eat and eat and never feel like she has taken a single bite.
she grows thin. the sun becomes too strong for her to go outside.
“a mother’s blood,” the king muses, and sends his advisors out to find snow white a new one.
*
the kingdom has six queens in six years, but no more peasants go missing. it must be something in the castle, they say. some mold. some terrible illness. something that lingers, and kills you slowly.
but snow white grows healthy regardless. she can be seen, sometimes, on the parapets: in the early years she wears a heavy cloak but as she grows it gets thinner, and then disappears entirely.
she is small, and delicate. her laughter, floating down into the village, is silver and gold and painted in eighth notes. it is said that if you look into her eyes you can see your deepest desire. it is said that she will give it to you. it is said that every time a queen dies it breaks snow white’s gentle heart. she shrinks. she hides away indoors. she becomes frail and cannot leave her bed.
so many queens in so many years. eventually, somebody will notice.
eventually, somebody does.
*
“mirror, mirror, on the wall: who’s the fairest of them all?”
you, my queen.
“there are no others?”
there is one other. but she is young. she was made by the forrest. she doesn’t know what she is.
“another? after all this time? where?”
the kingdom of six queens.
“how strong is her heart?”
she is too young to know for certain. but she when she is hungry, she has always been fed.
*
snow’s new mother arrives on horseback. her lips are red as blood, her hair as black as ebony, her skin as fair as–snow’s.
she marries the king and they spend the night in his chamber. this has never happened before. snow white does not understand. she is hungry. she always gets fed, the very first night. she always gets blood on her gown.
but her father stays in his chamber and does not come out. in the morning, his eyes are hazy and he does nothing but smile. her new mother’s teeth are red.
snow white waits. she isn’t starving yet. surely her father will snap out of it and feed her.
*
“today?” snow white asks, and her father pats her head.
“i will find you a peasant boy,” he says. “a strong one. your favorite kind.”
“that is not my favorite,” snow white tells him. she frowns. he has never told her no before. he, and everyone else, has always done exactly what she wanted. “father, i am hungry. you promised i would never be hungry again.”
she begins to cry, and the hazy look leaves him. he falls to his knees, her face between his hands. “of course,” he murmurs, “of course, tonight, i’ll send her. i don’t know why i didn’t before. i don’t know what i was thinking. tonight.”
snow white kisses his cheek. her red lips leave a print.
*
her new mother does not come. in the morning, her father’s eyes are hazy once again.
*
“father,” snow white begs.
“i promise,” he answers, but he is weak, every night he gives in to weakness because her new mother does not come. snow white is hungry. snow white grows thin. snow white cannot go out into the sun.
*
at last, her new mother comes. she has a plate of food: vegetables, fruit, and a slab of meat.
“eat,” her new mother murmurs. she perches on the edge of the bed.
snow white shuffles away from the sunlight coming through the window. “i’m not hungry,” she says.
“but you must be hungry,” her mother says, smiling. she reaches out to chase the edge of snow’s jaw. “you haven’t eaten in weeks. not even a peasant boy.”
snow white looks up, startled. “they aren’t filling,” snow white says.
“no,” agrees her new mother. “i agree. i prefer kings, when i can get them.”
“i prefer mothers.”
“i am not your mother.”
“then what are you?”
her smile is slow and bitter red. “my mother made the woods a promise, and the promise was me. she did not know that promises must be paid in blood, and sustained in blood, and that the blood was also me. she got what she wanted, and i ate until i was as full as a human could make me.”
“are there others? like you? …. like me?”
“there were,” the queen says. “once, there were many of us, and all of us were starving.”
snow white does not yet understand. “then what happened? where did they go? how did you survive?”
the queen runs a finger along the fabric of snow white’s blanket. her nail rips a line through the thread. “humans are weak, snow white. a thousand of them would not be enough to fill us up. but we are strong. our hearts can sustain a body for a hundred lifetimes.”
her teeth grow long. “i have been hungry for such a long time,” she says.
snow white understands.
she runs.
*
it hurts: her skin is so hot it is nearly on fire. her feet blister as she runs. she has never been outside of the castle grounds, but the woods are dark and shaded. the shade is like jumping into a pool of water. the red bleeds from her skin, leaving her fair and white once more.
she hides inside the hollow of a tree (the woods created her and the woods will keep her safe until her mother’s debt is paid). she sleeps while the hunting parties pass her by, all but one. he is a huntsman. he knows the woods. he knows the woods have favorites, and protect them; but the woods are old and can be tricked.
he waits.
when she emerges, it is dark. her skin is so white he almost wants to drink it. she is small, her hair so black he thinks she has woven the night sky into it. as he notches his bow he thinks it seems a shame to kill something so beautiful, something so beloved by the woods. the huntsman is loved by the woods, too. he knows how its favorites suffer.
she turns to look at him. when their eyes meet he sees his deepest desires. her eyes promise to give it to him. we are the chosen, her eyes promise, as she approaches and he does not shoot. cannot shoot. cannot look away.
“i am so hungry,” she whispers, reaching out to touch his face. “my father hasn’t fed me.”
“she wants your heart,” the huntsman confesses.
snow white knows that already. snow white is beginning to understand the bargain that her mother made.
“she cannot have it,” snow white says, and her teeth get long, and she eats.
*
“mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
you, my queen. but not for long.
*
(via yea-lets-do-this-shit)
Anonymous asked: Raaaadiiiii, your MCU/Hamilton thing is killing me with how awesome it is, I am so sold on everything about this, my life is so much better with this in it. Do you have any more to say on the matter?
OF COURSE I DO. btw i am taking tremendous liberties with mcu canon because i don’t read the comics. i don’t know how infinity stones work.
- Alright, alright: not the last ever showing of Hamilton but the actors are going their separate ways and it won’t be the same after this night, and oh how bright the lights are and Lin Manuel Miranda’s eyes wet with tears and history has its eyes on you and eleven Tony awards and history made, history in the making, an audience singing along in their hearts and minds, hands tight in laps as if in prayer, thoughts tangled along the same lines: if only there was time –
- Here’s the thing: there is an infinity stone in New York. Left behind by the Chitauri invasion: waiting, waiting, waiting. It pulses red and violet and gold, all the colours from the heart of the universe, shaped from the very stuff of creation, carried in the claws of one of Thanos’s finest warriors, cast aside in panic as the Hulk attacked. And there it has waited – I am not biding my time; I am lying in wait – for something, for an awakening, for the sort of mad passion and love and song that created it in the first place –
- have I done enough? have I told your story?
- Infinity stones are alive – for a given definition of alive. Think insectoid levels of sentience. They don’t understand morality but they understand this: what they need to survive. And beneath New York, buried first under rubble and then under construction, the stone senses the hungry pulse of humanity. It stirs. It vanishes, leaving a nebula of colours that defy human description. And it reappears beneath a Broadway stage. And as the music fades away and the emotion infuses it with heat and life it dissolves into a reaching, grasping thing and – if you only had time –
- Alexander Hamilton dies. This is written; it cannot be unwritten. But the belief, the tremendous desperate cry from an audience in 2016, coupled with the energy of a dying infinity stone, coupled with a patch of reality thinned by invasion from an other world –
- He wakes up in a dumpster, somehow twenty again. If I only had time –
- Are you telling me, says Lin Manuel Miranda, wet-eyed and disbelieving, that I resurrected Hamilton through the power of song – and Stark starts saying something about transdimensional reach and wormholes and Thor laughs mightily, claps a hard hand on his shoulder and says yes great one, that is what you have done.
can we please talk about how t'challa, a very masculine, badass, powerful character, admits he was wrong as soon as he realizes it?? he was really, tremendously wrong and he admits it and changes his behavior with like… no problem or ego or bullshit whatsoever? he doesn’t hang on to that masculine “i must be right all the time” thing. he doesn’t. that’s just so magical and pure. t'challa for president 2k16
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
My grandma sent me this video on the trans bathroom controversy. His name is the Liberal Redneck and he is now my best friend.
BOI IM #LIVIN FOR THIS GUY
(Source: wqsnijkfgefdjhklfvedjhknflvd, via princehal9000)
a good omens AU where everything is the same but the bentley turns everything into taylor swift
#but imagine the demons trying to contact crowley in TAYLOR SWIFTS VOICE
FUCKING CHRIST
you’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess it’s a love story baby Y O U C A N H O P E F O R N O T H I N G B U T T H E M E R C Y O F H E L L
“Bebop,” sniffed Aziraphale.
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
