Well I totally cried

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Peter Solarz
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AnasAbdin

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Not today Justin
we're not kids anymore.
noise dept.
DEAR READER

Andulka
Mike Driver

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@sex-libris
Well I totally cried
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.
*
part two
THREE MONTHS UNTIL LOKI IS BACK ON THE BIG SCREEN!!!
Just the thought is hotter than any porn I could post.
Omg…yesssssssss
It's not easy, but it is definitely not hard.
People occasionally ask me how I can handle being in a long distance relationship. How it must be so difficult and how coping with the miles between us must be nearly impossible.
I have been in all sorts of relationships in my 36 years. This is not the first time I have been in love. I’ve slept beside people every night that make me feel content and safe. I’ve laid awake staring at a clock alone. I’ve laid beside someone feeling like there is a continent between us, even though it is only a queen size bed. Do I wish every night when I close my eyes that I was sharing his bed and not in another country? Absolutely. Every single night. But he is there for me like no one else ever has been.
About a month ago, I got really sick and had a really rough week or two. A box showed up on my door with medicine, tissues, cough drops and lots of other gifts. I couldn’t begin to count the amount of times in a day I hear my phone go off with his specific ringtone and I know I’m on his mind. He laughs with me on the other line while he grocery shops. I have been endlessly searching for a hard to find birthday gift for someone I adore and it showed up on my doorstep today from him. He checks in on me if I’m quiet. He FaceTime’s me when he wants to watch me squirm while he shows me the new item he bought to torture me with. He contacted my hair dresser and arranged for me to get my hair done for a special occasion. He books me a flight when he can tell it’s time for me to come home to him. Not everytime I want to, because that would be every day. But he can tell when it has become a need. Right now he knows my masochist side is aching for my Sadist and a package showed up filled with things I could use to inflict pain on myself. Things that he constructed and something he used to make me cry the last time I saw him. I wake up to his voice every morning. I haven’t set an alarm clock since we met. He misses me just as much as I miss him, and that comforts me so much. He made me his a long time ago, but he reminds me of it a hundred times a day in dozens of different ways.
He understands every layer of me. I do not ever feel disconnected from him. Yes we are in almost constant contact, but it’s more than that. A bunch of you may be sitting on a couch with your significant other, scrolling through Tumblr and reading this and feeling miles away from someone who is only a few feet from you. I’ve been in those relationships. The one I have found now is the most connected I have ever felt, despite the miles. Perhaps even because of the miles. The communication in a long distance relationship becomes the foundation. When I see him, he turns me a thousands shades of black and blue. We laugh. We talk. He leads, and I follow. Do I miss the smell of his skin when we do that with a large amount of distance between us everyday? Of course. But I wouldn’t trade it to sit on a couch or sit and eat meals every night beside someone who doesn’t make me feel nearly as fulfilled or peaceful just for the sake of physical contact.
Did either of us plan for this? No. Is the distance looked at as a positive? Obviously no. But is our dynamic better than I ever thought I would find and getting stronger every single day? Yes. No question.
He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has, whether I am chained to his bed, or a few thousand miles away.
And maybe one day, distance will just be a thing of the past.
This is how I feel a lot of the time. Happy and innocent and giraffe loving. Then bad men come and spoil it.
I live in the best neighborhood ever.
*“Only in a collar can a woman be truly free.” The paradox of the collar. (Tribesmen of Gor, p.75)
Watch: Samantha Bee takes on untested rape kits and the cops and politicians who want to destroy them.
Because not all rough sex is fun for everyone. :(
Imagine how you might feel if your wildest and most wonderful fantasies were brought to life. That’s probably how a child would feel if their drawings of strange and wondrous characters were turned into real-life plush toys, which is exactly what Budsies does.
Budsies takes children’s drawings and reinterprets them as 16-inch-tall hypoallergenic plush toys – but they’ll take playful adults’ drawings, too.
NO DON’T GIVE THIS TO TUMBLR USERS THIS IS A GRAVE MISTAKE
CAN PEOPLE OF ALL AGES DO THIS
BECAUSE IMAGINE IF AN ARTIST WANTED A PLUSH OF THEIR OC
THEY’D HAVE THEIR OWN PLUSH OF THEIR OC
THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME
YES!
via their facebook
welp i know what i want for my birthday oops
I wonder how much Daddy loves me...
@lamb-chopped ’s first week….
That skull… Is not a good day sticker…
Ahhhh, this is perf.
I want Daddy rules. :(
this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!
ehh what the hell
OH MY GOD SO NO FUCKIN BULLSHIT I SWEAR To GOD. I reblogged this an hour ago and IM NOT Lying My Tax Refund which I did in late march popped into my Bank Account, and it was a Decent sized amount……
WHAT THE FUCK Is THIS MAGIC!??!?!?! Im trying this again IM NOT BSing hahahaha thats actually pretty cool xD
yooooo
yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
FUCKIN YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
no BULLSHIT I KID YOU NOT! Look what I found while walking Home…..
OH MY GOD
OH MY F*CKIN GOD
THIS POST FUCKIN WORKS?!?!?! THIS IS PAST A COINCIDENCE NO WAY!??! NO FRIGGIN WAY!!!
Im Going to reblog this every day to test this, its MAGIC ITS FRIGGIN MAGIC
I need to believe in the heart of the post…
Oh? Well… *reblag*
i reblogged this and now my uncle is giving me 250 to dye my hair nani the fucko
Munny schmunny. Look how cute the dog is.
I wish Loki could use his magic to make a little girl feel good about herself
I want Loki to change himself into a woman for me so that I can have a taste of bisexuality