Install Theme

Your web-browser is very outdated, and as such, this website may not display properly. Please consider upgrading to a modern, faster and more secure browser. Click here to do so.

A Different Kind Of Soldier

Deviant Art
Y! Gallery
Art Tag
Ask Box
Frequently Used Tags
Life Ruining Sterek ficrec
Archive
Likes

Cris. 23. Multi-fandom blog. (very very multi-fandom) So pretty much anything I like really. I really really REALLY love bears ok you don't understand. I also love Elementary, One Piece, Hannibal, Sherlock Holmes, Free! and Shingeki no Kyojin, Doctor Who, Marvel, Transformers, Teen Wolf, Supernatural. Gay things. Many many gay things.

Safe harbor for any and all ships.
Apr 18 '14

ssjdebusk:

Mark Ruffalo and Matt Bomer in The Normal Heart

Trailer and Info

(Source: moonchild30)

Apr 18 '14

digitalfriend:

english is a language where “buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo” and “james while john had had had had had had had had had had had a better effect on the teacher” are grammatically correct, so who the fuck even cares if someone uses ‘they’ as a personal pronoun.

Apr 18 '14

piasora:

so i realized my bedhead w/ short hair may actually be a good ref for really curly messy hair and i was thinking of making a character with messy messy messy curly hair s o???  uploading i guess it’s not perfect i’m closer and farther in some but w/e

Apr 18 '14

erizo1404:

by Wesley Burt

Apr 18 '14
Apr 18 '14

templar-descendant:

huntingjaeger:

nudityandnerdery:

2percentmelk:

(Source: http://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/21xynj/this_is_daniel_handler_aka_lemony_snicket_trapped/)

That is fantastic life advice.

Lemony Snicket doesn’t give a damn fuck

lemony snicket is my favorite 

(Source: twopercentmelk)

Apr 18 '14
"

When I was seventeen and preparing to leave for university, my mother’s only brother saw fit to give me some advice.
“Just don’t be an idiot, kid,” he told me, “and don’t ever forget that boys and girls can never just be friends.”
I laughed and answered, “I’m not too worried. And I don’t really think all guys are like that.”

When I was eighteen and the third annual advent of the common cold was rolling through residence like a pestilent fog, a friend texted me asking if there was anything he could do to help.
I told him that if he could bring me up some vitamin water that would be great, if it wasn’t too much trouble.
That semester I learned that human skin cells replace themselves every three to five weeks. I hoped that in a month, maybe I’d stop feeling the echoes of his touch; maybe my new skin would feel cleaner.
It didn’t. But I stood by what I said. Not all guys are like that.

When I was nineteen and my roommate decided the only way to celebrate the end of midterms was to get wasted at a club, I humoured her.
Four drinks, countless leers and five hands up my skirt later, I informed her I was ready to leave.
“I get why you’re upset,” she told me on the walk home, “but you have to tolerate that sort of thing if you want to have any fun. And really, not all guys are like that.”

(Age nineteen also saw me propositioned for casual sex by no fewer than three different male friends, and while I still believe that guys and girls can indeed be just friends, I was beginning to see my uncle’s point.)

When I was twenty and a stranger that started chatting to me in my usual cafe asked if he could walk with me (since we were going the same way and all), I accepted.
Before we’d even made it three blocks he was pulling me into an alleyway and trying to put his hands up my shirt. “You were staring,” he laughed when I asked what the fuck he was doing (I wasn’t), “I’m just taking pity.”
But not all guys are like that.

I am twenty one and a few days ago a friend and I were walking down the street. A car drove by with the windows down, and a young man stuck his head out and whistled as they passed. I ignored it, carrying on with the conversation.
My friend did not. “Did you know those people?” He asked.
“Not at all,” I answered.
Later when we sat down to eat he got this thoughtful look on his face. When I asked what was wrong he said, “You know not all guys do that kind of thing, right? We’re not all like that.”
As if he were imparting some great profound truth I’d never realized before. My entire life has been turned around, because now I’ve been enlightened: not all guys are like that.

No. Not all guys are. But enough are. Enough that I am uncomfortable when a man sits next to me on the bus. Enough that I will cross to the other side of the street if I see a pack of guys coming my way. Enough that even fleeting eye contact with a male stranger makes my insides crawl with unease. Enough that I cannot feel safe alone in a room with some of my male friends, even ones I’ve known for years. Enough that when I go out past dark for chips or milk or toilet paper, I carry a knife, I wear a coat that obscures my figure, I mimic a man’s gait. Enough that three years later I keep the story of that day to myself, when the only thing that saved me from being raped was a right hook to the jaw and a threat to scream in a crowded dorm, because I know what the response will be.

I live my life with the everburning anxiety that someone is going to put their hands on me regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I’m not going to be able to stop them. I live with the knowledge that statistically one in three women have experienced a sexual assault, but even a number like that can’t be trusted when we are harassed into silence. I live with the learned instinct, the ingrained compulsion to keep my mouth shut to jeers and catcalls, to swallow my anger at lewd suggestions and crude gestures, to put up my walls against insults and threats. I live in an environment that necessitates armouring myself against it just to get through a day peacefully, and I now view that as normal. I have adapted to extreme circumstances and am told to treat it as baseline. I carry this fear close to my heart, rooted into my bones, and I do so to keep myself unharmed.

So you can tell me that not all guys are like that, and you’d even be right, but that isn’t the issue anymore. My problem is not that I’m unaware of the fact that some guys are perfectly civil, decent, kind—my problem is simply this:

In a world where this cynical overcaution is the only thing that ensures my safety, I’m no longer willing to take the risk.

"
r.d. (via vonmoire)

(Source: elferinge)

Apr 18 '14
Apr 18 '14

slothmunster:

friend describing their oc: a dramatic backstory, flaws, personality and everything about oc is well written and deep

me describing my oc: “uh… he likes cats.”

Apr 18 '14

nibit:

420 is so close I can almost taste all the bad jokes I’ll have to weed through

Apr 18 '14

Quite possibly the best/worst fortune cookie fortune ever.

Quite possibly the best/worst fortune cookie fortune ever.

(Source: funnyorwtf)

Apr 17 '14
"who is going to write the starter"
Apr 17 '14

adventuresintimeandspace:

Here are some scientific facts about blood loss for all you psychopaths writers out there.

Apr 17 '14

nicolasdelort:

theartofanimation:

Nicolas Delort

Thanks for the feature :))!!!

Website

Apr 17 '14

(Source: catleecious)