roxyrnorton
are you happy?
callie. bi. she/her. slightly cool, only slightly.
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Last Seen Blogs
nasmocopati
Untitled
jeancharlesmbottimalolo
Jean-Charles Mbotti Malolo
losjibaros-blog
Los Jíbaros
magmnoir
🔗☾︎ƝΏȋƬƎ☽︎🔗
outcastcd
wisdom.
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There is a chance that your kid will be gay or trans. If you’re not willing to accept them and love them unconditionally, then you shouldn’t have kids. It’s irresponsible to compromise the happiness and mental health of your child just because you’re not willing to overcome your fears and preconceived notions of what a queer person is.
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Zendaya at ‘The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon’
NBC Studios, Rockefeller Center; New York, NY
June 20, 2017
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Gal + that thing she does with short women
(source: @mswyrr, @wonderswoman)
On a related note, give Diana a short girlfriend in the DCEU so we can see Diana do this.
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Cast her in the Black Widow film.
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dusky pink or mustard yellow? bean bag or hammock? seaside towns or neon cities? milkshake or smoothie? misty forest mornings or warm pool-side evenings? violin or acoustic guitar? fairground or fireworks show? stripes or florals? ladybugs or butterflies? maple syrup or honey?
#dusky pink#hammock#seaside towns#milkshake#misty forest mornings#violin#fireworks show#florals#butterflies#honey I guess?
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write in the tags the lyrics of the song currently stuck in your head
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are you a biology or chemistry person, star wars or star trek, hugs or kisses, rock music or pop music, cheese or bread
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big wlw mood: when you remember another woman who you just “””””””””admired””””””””” a lot as a kid for “””””””””some reason”””””””””
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you deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable.
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Tears fill my eyes as I read the words on my screen. The world seems to stop spinning for the slightest second as I re-read the anonymous message over and over again, gripping on to the hope that the words will magically disappear. But they didn’t. Anon had done it; they’d figured out that the only way to make me take off my hijab was to call my hair ugly. My one weakness.
A tear streams down my left cheek.
Eight years of academy hijab training…wasted. I had to prove this extremely relevant and good-looking anonymous person wrong, I cared too much about what they thought. How could I live my life knowing that there is one person out there who thinks probably my hair is ugly maybe? How could I look myself in the mirror? How could I face my family? My shoulders shook as I cried silently, and my chair squeaked ever so slightly at the vibrations; as if it, too, was crying in sorrow.
It wasn’t until that moment that the second part of the message dawned on me… how would I prove them wrong without breaking the rules? Was it really against the rules? I reach into my hijab and pull out a scroll. At the very top, in cursive jet-black inked letters, the word ‘Rules’ stares back at me. My heart is racing as my eyes frantically read the scroll.
‘Rule #1: no killing people,’ it reads. I let out a whimper. There go my evening plans.
Suddenly, my eye catches the next words. The scroll is rustling in my trembling hands as I turn my face away, tears spraying out of my eyes like the spit of a white person as they try to justify racism. The cursive words felt more like a curse of words, vivid and refusing to disappear as if I were still staring at them even through my closed eyes.
Rule #2: don’t show ur hair girl it’s ugly lmaooooo
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Conversation
Child at the museum: I brought my stuffed eagle today!
Me, volunteer at the museum: Hey, that's awesome! Did you know that birds like your eagle are actually dinosaurs, just like these guys?
Child: Really!?!?
Me: Yes, really!
Child: *gasps* I HAD NO IDEA THAT EAGLES WERE BIRDS!
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