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April 06 2016



my entire life i was told that boys are violent but girls are worse because we’re “catty.” i was told that a catty girl was my enemy, that they used whip tongues in place of fists to start things i couldn’t erase of out my skin. i saw this cattiness wherever i was told it would live. it was in pretty girls with nice lipstick and it was in the girls who studied too much to ever come to the parties and it was in my own group of friends. when i came home crying about something, i was often reminded that girls are catty bitches and if we were boys we’d just punch each other and be done with it. 

but it was boys who first started making fun of how i looked, of what mess my face was like, of the fat on my thighs. and it was girls who showed me how to apply makeup, patiently waiting with me in the bathroom mirror to show how not to cry while i applied it to the waterline. they agreed to go on diets with me even when they hated salad. they agreed to scoop buckets of ice cream into our bellies at midnight when i was upset about something minor.

it was boys who were snippy about my grades, it was a man who first said that because i was a girl i was bad at math and i’d stay that way. it was boys who started making fun of the one time i got a 34 on a math test when my mother had been in the hospital the night before. it was girls who held my hand during this, who stayed with me through hours of library studies, who explained over and over in gel pens and pretty handwriting exactly what i was missing. it was girls who taught me to color-code and to highlight and how to stay up all night, it was girls who cheered with me when i got nothing lower than a B. 

it was a boy who taught my friend that she could talk down to me like i was trash. it was a boy who started drama between us. it was a boy who wouldn’t listen or talk it out or find a solution. he’d say angry hurtful things and expect us to listen. it was girls who fixed me after this. they taught me how to make good and positive friends. how to stay away from the girls who really are toxic ones. how to be proud of others and not competitive. how to give genuine compliments, how to accept them, how to be comfortable with who i am and what has happened.

i was told all my life that there was a “type” of girl to avoid. she was probably wearing ugg boots and shorts or drinking a latte or picking out lush products or doing literally anything that girls like to do for themselves, she was catty. girls are catty. when they fight, it’s a catfight. (the majority of fights i saw were either physical or two girls sobbing while apologizing. the speaking beforehand was just the standoff because nobody was ready to take the gloves off). 

girls, i find, are defensive. we wear our hands up, waiting for the hit. girls who are sick of getting hit get “bitchy.” they are fierce, they take what they want, they’ll mess you up for saying the wrong thing about their friend. and girls, who are unwilling to simply take insults without lashing back with something: they’re catty. and when boys bully others and spread nasty gossip and start drama: well, they’re just boys. they’ll fight it out, or something. 

how much i regret believing that girls weren’t my safety net. how many friends i was scared to make because i was intimated by them. so many loving people. out of fear of what? of a tongue someone else has tattooed on them? 

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srsly tho this is absolutely a thing that dudes do all the f***ing time

like where if he knows a girl doesn’t necessarily want to give him a hug, he will trap her in this position in front of witnesses where she has 2 options- both of which are undesirable for her, while simultaneously desirable for him

if she doesn’t want to hug him, whatever she does, it will suck for her.

she can 1. say nah and be the fucking asshole in front of other ppl or 2. forsake her corporeal boundaries and allow unwanted intimate contact

it’s a f***ing trap


So I was on the transit bus alone one time. This was my first time riding, and so already I was PETRIFIED. I sit down, pull out my ipod, and begin to play some games. This guy sits down next to me, and begins trying to have a conversation. I don’t really respond, I don’t even look at him, just give half-hearted “mhm”s and “oh”s, as I don’t want to be rude if he was just striking up a friendly conversation. He then asks me on a date.

Now, as I stated before, I already was absolutely petrified. My heart stopped and I didn’t know how to answer. So I just didn’t. He didn’t let up and I could feel his eyes on me. I quietly stammer out a “no thanks” and my stop HAPPENS to be coming up, so I pull the string thing to let the driver know I want to stop there, and once we stop and the doors open I get up and he asks me, “Well, can I at least have a hug before you go if you won’t go on a date with me?” 

This makes me break. There are now people staring, as we are the only people standing up and not getting off… So I just start crying. Hell, I am bawling almost instantly. He looks so fucking freaked out and people are now getting up to come over and comfort me/question him. I don’t stop crying, and he keeps trying to comfort me by touching me, and people are yelling at him for that. 

AND THEN. AND. FUCKING. THEN. THE GOD DAMN BUS DRIVER. A VERY EASILY 6 FOOT BURLY MAN. COMES OVER TO US. PULLS THE GUY AWAY. AND KNEELS DOWN. HE THEN ASKS, IN THE MOST CALM VOICE, “Did you request the stop?” I very slowly and shakily nod, as I am still crying my eyes out. He then asks, “Do you want to get off?” I give a quiet “mhm” and nod once again, and he offers me his hand. I take it, he stands up, and he escorts me off the bus. He asks me questions such as where I was going next, if I was going to meet someone shortly, if I was going to transfer buses from there. He was very polite and waited for me to answer the entire time, and my friend (who I was going to be meeting there) showed up. He asked me if this was someone I knew, I said yes, and he said alright, have a good day. He then told me- and this is something stuck in my mind forever, so it is word for word-

“If some guy EVER starts harassing you like that again, do exactly what you did there. Cry. Cry and scream and have a temper tantrum. Not only will it throw him off, but it will get others to notice. They might not interfere, they might, but you will have gotten their attention and if you happen to go missing the next day the search for you will be a hell of a lot easier because everyone in that location will have seen you screaming and crying with a guy now very awkward with his actions. They will know. That is what my daughter did, and three days after she went missing she was back in my arms. I pray for you and every other person like you who has this done. You stay safe now, okay?” And after I began blubbering again, I nodded and he left.

So this is the second lesson for yall. If you can not have the courage to say no or make an excuse, cry. Let out those sobs and tears and cry your heart out. Because it is going to make people notice and make people aware.

Reblogging for that second story. This might save a life.

I just wanna note that bus drivers can be really amazing and good ones do look out for their riders.

Also, as an additional tip (in case you cannot cry on command or such), you can say, “No, because you’re creepy/creeping me out” and if he persists or tries to laugh it off, say “I do not want to be touched” and look at one of the strangers/persons that is watching.

1. Gives them a sense of urgency in the situation, as the eye contact is a way to make them feel as though you are personally asking for their help and it is now their obligation to help.
2. Contains words so that if you’re in a public place but people aren’t necessarily watching, then they (as natural evesdroppers) can overhear the attention-grabbing words and then notice the situation. Note, this does NOT mean that they will come for help, but you might be able to look someone in the eye (as previously mentioned) or just get some people’s attention.
3. It shows that you have fight in you. As with rapists, those who are physically aggressive (ie. these huggers) choose women they see as an easy target. The moment you show them you are going/willing to fight them, they are less likely to continue. Sadly, this is not always the case, but every little bit helps.

Hopes this also helps, guys, and I’m so sad that this has to even be a post we need.

Dudes who follow me: 1) reblog this 2) don’t be the creepy guy who asks random women for hugs 3) be aware of your friends or random creepy dudes and call them out if they act gross towards girls/womem


Neechi Rides founder says it's too dangerous to take cabs in Winnipeg



It’s a one-man ride service for indigenous people in Winnipeg, and while Pernell Flett isn’t asking for money, he is collecting passengers’ stories.

“Some of them tell how cab drivers try to touch them, feel them up and take them places they don’t want to be,” Flett said of the indigenous people he drives around the city.

“A lot of them won’t speak out about it; they’re too scared to say anything about it.”

Flett started Neechi Rides on Dec. 15. It’s a ride service that he offers for free, and it is run out of his own pocket.

“When I watch the news at nighttime and see all the problems … I told my girlfriend, ‘You know what? I’m going to do something about this.’”

Continue Reading.

His gofundme only has 30$ right now!

This man needs help in order to ensure the safety of our Native Women living in Winnipeg, and yet, just because he’s offering a safe ride for our Native people, he’s been the target of harassment and threats. We need to support our people who are doing the best they can!

Please reblog and share! 

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Tony: Don’t get us wrong, helping people is the name of the game. We do this for a good reason and we know the consequences. But when the earthquakes over, we’re the ones that have to deal with the aftershock.


happy two year anniversary to the true love of my life


captain america: the winter soldier

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It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, I’m not dead.

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April 05 2016

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Lily Evans leads a simple life of making pies and waking the dead. She doesn’t wake them for good, mind – only for a minute, until she and Sirius can find out who killed them. Their latest case: James Potter, moneyed heir, messy haired, and recent murder victim. Keeping him alive is a terrible idea. Too bad Lily’s always been a bit reckless.

Dead Men Rise Up Sometimes by cgner


March 31 2016

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Alexandra Khitrova
raspberry dragon
blueberry dragon
cherry dragon
grape dragon
cloudberry dragon

more by Alexandra Khitrova




S/O to people who be lowkey just blogging not getting into no bullshit on this website

I’m fucking trying


Sebastian Stan on his nicknames


STAN: I think why my mom named me Sebastian was after Sebastian Bach…she was a pianist, and then she was like, “I don’t know what else could go with Stan,” which is such a funny name to me: Stan. It just makes me think of, um, like Newman from Seinfeld. … Stan was a very awkward name for me in high school. …I still get a little, like when I get to a hotel and someone’s like, “Mr. Stan,” and I’m like, I dunno, that sounds weird. … I would not change my name, I’m happy with it.

INTERVIEWER: asks about nicknames listed on IMDb

STAN: None of them are true, by the way. I’m not sure how that made it over there, but…

INTERVIEWER: Let’s see…Sebs? Has anyone ever called you that that you have any affection for?

STAN: Sebs? I don’t think so…no, I don’t, not that I remember.


STAN: Definitely not. I mean I’m not sure where that came from.


STAN: My mom did call me that, yeah. Yeah. In high school I had that.

INTERVIEWER: Your mom apparently is updating your IMDb page.

STAN: She is online a lot, let me tell you.

INTERVIEWER: And this is my personal favorite: the Wiener Soldier.

STAN: The Wiener Soldier is actually…I actually think…uh, I didn’t come up with it, but um…my costumer on set came up with it and made me a t-shirt one time as a thank-you gift, and it had, you know, a hot dog and instead of the wiener it was like, the metal arm.

Sometimes we would have like this alter ego which was on set, you know, cause like he was always like (growling voice) “Winter Soldier”  and then it was like (squeaky voice) “Wiener Soldier!”  would come out, you know, like once in a while. You know, you do what you can to get through long hours sometimes, especially when you’re dealing with heavy, dramatic, like, serious material.


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The Very Hungry Rust Monster is a mini-comic I made a few years back. I’ve seen it floating around Tumblr without attribution recently, so I’ve uploaded a higher-resolution version, properly credited.

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i’m not sorry


Just because you are [ethnicity]-American doesn’t mean you get to speak for everyone in the ethnicity and definitely not people from that country


Last summer I had the luck to go to India with my former boyfriend and visit his family. I didn’t get to do anything that white people think it’s cool to go to India for, and I still don’t really know what’s fun in India, but it was a great experience to get to know more about urban middle class Indian life. I ate so much Indian food, got to go to the mall to watch movies and escape the 140 degree temperatures, and I got to spend A LOT of time in Delhi traffic.

Of course since it was in India, I decided to get some henna done (one time at a tourist trap with Indians from other part of the country, and one time at the mall). My boyfriend’s mom also took me shopping to get some Indian clothes (which are lovely) and we went out to get some bindis. They were sold as stickers and were pretty cheap.

Apparently though, indulging in all of this was SUPER RACIST. Apparently Indian clothes, bindis, and henna are SUPER SPECIAL not to be touched by dirty outsiders like me. For Desis only. (Except the vast majority of Indian people would never refer to themselves as Desi, and my ex actually didn’t like the word very much) And apparently my ex’s lovely mom must’ve been super “whitewashed” to take me shopping. (Even though I’m not white at all)

But guess what? Just because you are of a certain ethnicity doesn’t mean you suddenly know the beliefs of everyone else in that ethnicity. I am Chinese American, and while I love my heritage a lot (mostly the food, lol), I actually know very little about what people in China actually think. I don’t think I know anyone Chinese except for international students at school and my relatives. 

To be honest, I don’t know as much about Chinese politics or pop culture as I’d like. Meanwhile American-born Indians not knowing about the BJP (and their pogroms), not knowing about regional/cultural differences in the country, and not knowing about how Hinduism is actually practiced, can still run around claiming to be 100% Indian and even knowing better about the culture than the people who live it.

I think as minorities in the US, we often do get burned for having “strange” customs. I don’t think I’ve personally experienced too much of it, but I can see how it can make someone bitter. But I think it’s also a case of “I found something special first, normal people shouldn’t be allowed to have it either!!!!”

So my ex’s family might have thought I ate rats or that I did kung fu. But, surprise, they didn’t care when I wore henna or when I went to a Hindu religious service. And neither should anyone else.

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I just snorted so hard in the middle of a restaurant

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I love Calvin’s mom’s reaction in the last panel

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Hi, Clair. I’d like to come in and talk with you. Would that be all right?

This is the Batman we need to see more often. The one who remembers what it was like to be a scared child, one who knows how to handle situations delicately.

One of the reason why I love batman so much. He is portrayed as a very careful and guarded man. But he is probably the most human out of anyone. It’s why he is the knight that gotham deserves. 

Re: that last panel - 


Batman, when he’s written correctly, is an extremely compassionate person. 

I always feel the need to reblog this because it’s definitely something I feel was lost in the Nolan films. 

The thing about Bruce is he believes he is not a good man, but he is.

More than just being instinctively compassionate, the Batman in the photoset, at least, knows (and was probably trained in, i.e. actively sought out the knowledge) how to handle a person who’s been traumatised and their sense of self threatened without further trampling all over their boundaries. he asks for permission to talk to her, he warns her he’s coming closer instead of just imposing his presence on her. That is not something you know instinctively even if you know what it’s like to be scared or went through trauma yourself, it takes awareness because it means not acting as one usually would.

This Batman is compassionate, self-aware and sensitive, so I’m not even surprised the machismo fest that was Nolan’s version did away with all that.


Batman: War on Crime by Paul Dini and Alex Ross

It is always so IMPORTANT to me when I see Batman interact with kids; he knows what it is like to be a kid who is upset, angry, sad, afraid, and hurt.

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I support her



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