Hello! :)

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

aphony-cree:

sp8b8:

class-isnt-the-only-oppression:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

Happy Pride Month Eleanor Roosevelt was queer, the Little Mermaid is a gay love story, James Dean liked men, Emily Dickinson was a lesbian, Nikola Tesla was asexual, Freddie Mercury was bisexual & British Indian, and black trans women pioneered the gay rights movement.

Florence Nightingale was a lesbian, Leonardo da Vinci was gay, Michelangelo too, Jane Austen liked women, Hatshepsut was not cisgender, and Alexander the Great was a power bottom

Honestly just reblogging for that last one

Probably not historically backed but fuck yes

Eleanor Roosevelt wrote love letters to Lorena Hickok

Love letters Hans Christian Anderson wrote to Edvard Collin contain elements that appeared in The Little Mermaid, which he was writing at the same time

Several people who knew James Dean have talked about his relationships with men 

Letters and poems allude to a romance between Emily Dickinson and at least two women 

Nikola Tesla was adverse to touch. He said he fell in love with one women but never touched her and didn’t want to get married 

Freddie Mercury is well known for his attraction to men but was also linked to several women, including Barbara Valentin whom he lived with shortly before he died. Friends have talked about being invited into their bed and walking in on them having sex (documentary Freddie Mercury: The Great Pretender) 

Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera are two of the best-known activists who fought in the Stonewall riots

Florence Nightingale refused 4 marriage proposals and her letters and memoir suggest a love for women 

Leonardo da Vinci never married or fathered children, was once brought up on sodomy charges, and a sketch in one of his notebooks is 2 penises walking toward a hole labeled with the nickname of his apprentice 

Condivi said that Michelangelo often spoke exclusively of masculine love

Jane Austin never married and wrote about sharing a bed with women (Jane Austen At Home: A Biography by Lucy Worsley)

Hatshepsut took the male title Pharaoh (instead of Queen Regent) and is depicted in art from the time the same way a male Pharaoh would have been

“Alexander was only defeated once…and that was by Hephaestion’s thighs.” is a 2,000 year old quote

I want to hire you to follow me around and defend my honor with meticulous research

(via phektrek)

that-shits-reblogable:

haiku-robot:

vanillalolita:

writing-prompt-s:

You’re a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her.

She is devoid of any scales or fur, this tiny ball of squalling royalty.

The knight that holds her is bleeding out more sluggishly than before, running out of life and time as he begs me to take care of her.

“No revenge.” I murmur to him; that is not my way.

“No.” He agrees softly, kneeling before my bulk and drip-dripping his life onto my floor.

“No revenge. Just want her to live.”

He topples over suddenly, and I let him fall. The ball of swaddling is what I catch in my claws. A paltry offering of gold falls from the blankets, body-warm and forgotten as I lift this princess to observe her more closely.

I see aquamarine glittering in her face, eyes lit up with tears in the rose gold hue of her cheeks. She is snotty and soiled, bloodied and unhappy. And she is mine.

“You will need milk.” I sigh, walking best I can on three legs to the back of the cave to settle her in a cradle of smooth gems. Oddly befitting her status, though it means nothing anymore. I breathe hotly over her, the screaming quieting in the face of warm air and the white noise I make.

“Sleep, princess.” I murmur soothingly. “I will return with food.”

————

“Get down from there.”

I do not need to raise my voice, she knows well enough who I am speaking to and what I speak about. She jumps from the tree branch she had been climbing and lands on my head.

“I want to fly like you do.”

Oh, she is stubborn, with hair like fire and those aquamarine eyes. She pulls at my scales and bares her blunt little teeth in a copy of my own snarl.

“I could gobble you up.” I warn, unable to hide the smile in my voice. It is good she is stubborn; any dragon should be just a little head-strong.

“I would break your teeth with my skull!” She cackles back, scrabbling down to my back to nuzzle the soft leather of my wings.

“When will my wings grow?”

Always so full of questions.

“Maybe never. There are land dragons, sea dragons, dragons of the sky…perhaps you will lose your arms and legs and become a wyrm.”

She laughs her harsh cackle, biting at me playfully.

I love her so.

I cannot even bring myself to tell her she is not a dragon.

i cannot even
bring myself to tell her she
is not a dragon

---

^Haiku^{^bot^8. I detect haikus with 5-7-5 format. Sometimes I make mistakes.}

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