Nov. 21st, 2016

athousanderrors: from 'Spirited Away' - soot sprites, clutching confetti stars, running about excitedly. (Default)
via http://ift.tt/2gc43ap:Oh shit! The what should I do before January guide:
stele3:

bimuslimheaux:

bimuslimheaux:

Here’s a resource for what you needa try to get done before January when Trump starts changing shit and how to get that shit done. It includes things like name changes for Trans folks and healthcare resources. It might be helpful for someone even if it’s not helpful to you so please pass it on. Help marginalized people stay healthy and safe!

IF YOU’RE A CISHET WHITE YOU NEED TO BE REBLOGGING THIS SHIT SO MARGINALIZED LGBTQ+ POC KNOW THEIR OPTIONS. THIS IS HELPFUL FOR YALL ASSES TOO!!!

Due to high demand the guide has turned into a wiki: http://ift.tt/2g8UviZ
athousanderrors: from 'Spirited Away' - soot sprites, clutching confetti stars, running about excitedly. (Default)
via http://ift.tt/2fKuzcs:
when-it-rains-it-snows:

about two minutes prior to this is when Kate learned that you become an Avenger For Real ™ the first time you get to be the person that tells Clint what magic has happened to him this time.  ‘ordinarily we’d draw straws or something,’ they say, and man with friends like this? ‘but he lets you get away with everything, so.’

go get ‘em, tiger (Nat)

I’d take his bow away while he’s still kinda stunned if I were you (Jess)

no no, leave the bow. he looks like he can’t figure out why he’s holding it,  like he signed up to be a part-time cupid and only looked at what it pays and didn’t actually read the manual (Bobbi)

katie is this wings?  this is fucking wings oh my god I HATE MAGIC
athousanderrors: from 'Spirited Away' - soot sprites, clutching confetti stars, running about excitedly. (Default)
via http://ift.tt/2fL2xOe:
writing-prompt-s:

firemageking:

nerdygayholtz:

prismatic-bell:

writing-prompt-s:

Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!

Oh my god, this is beautiful.

A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was “hiding from an alcoholic father.” Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the child’s pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.

He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. “Here,” he says, “you will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.”

The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says “nobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and I’ll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.”

————

A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?

Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. “A day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,” Odin tells him. “To request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.”

———-

A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. She’s very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.

Odin asks.

And asks again.

And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldn’t tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of “we found a tumor in your lymph nodes. I’m so sorry.” And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?

Odin raises his flagon high. “What is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.“

In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hall–no demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.

The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.

“All-Father!” the feasting multitudes cry. “What brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?”

He waves them off with a hand.

“This woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,” he says, his voice rolling across the hall. “She has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.”

And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a lute–which, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a man’s face in that great final fight.

Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.

And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.

I’M NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING

THIS IS GLORIOUS

Beautiful.
athousanderrors: from 'Spirited Away' - soot sprites, clutching confetti stars, running about excitedly. (Default)
via http://ift.tt/2gf12G4:
gokuma:

yo-tori:

wocinsolidarity:

toushindai:

janel-moloney:

@HamiltonMusical: Tonight, VP-Elect Mike Pence attended #HamiltonBway. After the show, @BrandonVDixon delivered the following statement on behalf of the show.

Captions:

“We have a message for you, sir. And we hope that you will hear us out. I encourage everyone to pull out your phones and tweet and post, because this message needs to be spread far and wide.

“Vice President Elect Pence, we welcome you, and we truly welcome you for joining us here at Hamilton: An American Musical. We really do.

“We are the diverse America who are alarmed and anxious that your administration will not protect us,

“our planet, our children, our parents, or defend us, or uphold our inalienable rights, sir.

“But we truly hope that this show has inspired you to uphold our American values, and to work on behalf of all of us.

“All. Of. Us.

“Again, we truly thank you for sharing this show. This wonderful American story told by a diverse group of men and women of different colors, creeds, and orientations.”

Y’all, take notes, this is the perfect example of why tone policing and respectability politics is B.S.:

Hamilton Cast: *literally thanks Pence for showing up, asks that the administration treats marginalized people like human beings*

Donald Trump: Our wonderful future V.P. Mike Pence was harassed last night at the theater by the cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing.This should not happen! [X] The Theater must always be a safe and special place.The cast of Hamilton was very rude last night to a very good man, Mike Pence. Apologize! [X]

Trump supporters: #BoycottHamilton !!!!1!!!!

Wow, I was honestly expecting the actors to rip Mike Pence a new asshole with all the uproar I was hearing about. Instead, I get this. An incredibly nice “Thank you for coming” and politely asking him to treat us like humans. Almost too fucking nice if you ask me cause he doesn’t deserve it.

Instead, they’re still made out to be these assholes that somehow attacked Pence. Wow.

they were so nice. 

I would love to be ‘harassed’ like that. 

Arguably it was the audience that was ‘rude’ by booing; but it doesn’t make nearly as nice a soundbite to say “public disapproves of elected official and makes voice heard,” now, does it?
athousanderrors: from 'Spirited Away' - soot sprites, clutching confetti stars, running about excitedly. (Default)
via http://ift.tt/2fiXn8e:
cartersreese:

Because even though this year still has seven weeks left, I’m calling it early. 2016 has been the fucking worst. (bonus:)

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