blam49:

paxmachina:

John Fugelsang

Best post ever.

palsatthedal:

"I’m not going anywhere"

(Source: eclecticbanana)

chrissymodi-frost:

I have to reboot this today!

chrissymodi-frost:

I have to reboot this today!

(Source: moveslikecurt)

The sickening sound of flesh hitting concrete is muted by the explosion. Darcy doesn’t think she’s ever felt pain like it in her life. Her very short life, that she’s sure is about to end any second. This isn’t the first time she’s faced down death, but it’s the first time she’s felt it—the impending knowledge that there’s no rescue for it now.

And then he’s there, looming before her. The Winter Soldier, imposing as any Grim Reaper. If he’s here for her soul, she’s not giving it up willingly. Her breath comes in hard pants as she struggles to sit up. She’s not going to cower, not now.

The Winter Soldier studies her, eyes hard and glinting, barely human. There’s no mercy there.

"Aren’t you going to kill me?" she demands. While she doesn’t want to die, the waiting…it’s unbearable.

"Aren’t you going to beg for your life?" he counters. His voice is as cold as his stare and for a moment, she wants to beg, wants to ask him to end her mercifully, but her chin comes up, her shoulders go back. 

"No," she says quietly, and in that moment she’s proud that her voice doesn’t tremble. She makes her voice stronger, impatient, tries to hide her terror. "Well? Aren’t you going to do it?"

She can’t see his mouth, but a frosty smile glints in his eyes. It’s not nice, not merciful, but still he says, “Not today.”

He’s gone before she can blink, and she finds herself shaking, staring after him, unsure of what’s just happened. One thing she is certain of…this isn’t the last she’s seen of him.

(Source: nessismore)

teemosfeet:

Cottonpool

razorsaw:

Elementary’s current storyline: "How you behave and the lines you cross have consequences, other people’s lives aren’t less important and don’t revolve around you and your brilliance, and saying you’re sorry doesn’t mean that relationships will be repaired and you have to learn…

defunctfashion:

Charles James | “Swan” | c. 1953
defunctfashion:

Charles James | “Swan” | c. 1953
defunctfashion:

Charles James | “Swan” | c. 1953

defunctfashion:

Charles James | “Swan” | c. 1953

(Source: metmuseum.org)

"Superman spent his childhood baling hay on a farm, he’s a working class hero and people don’t like that. Whereas Batman is a billionaire who sleeps until three in the afternoon, puts on a rubber suit and beats the shit out of poor people. Now that’s a wish fulfillment fantasy."

Grant Morrison during a panel at the Edinburgh Book Festival (via operationfailure)

(via anartinsorcery)

(via twoxheartedxdream)

forever reblog, especially with those tags

(via whenyourenotsavingtheworld)

Funny because I just argued about this point about Batman only a few short days  with a guy who, otherwise, is intelligent and well spoken.  Yet, this idea that Clark is an “othered” figure was totally lost on him.

This is why it doesn’t just make me angry but actually makes me uncomfortable when dudebros get super excited about Batman beating the shit out of Superman.

The last 3 live action adaptations of Superman—-all of which found huge audiences—-have particularly focused on this idea that Clark Kent grows up feeling othered.  (In one of those adapations, Clark Kent was actually played by an actor who is bi-racial and was abandoned by his father at a young age btw.)

In several of these adapations, Clark Kent learning to accept his body and accept his heritage balanced with his intense love and identification as a human is not only a right of passage but the driving force of his identity and self-discovery.  The fact that a lot of this self-discovery also often includes a human female who accepts him fully and without fear or persecution for his “otherness” is vital and important.   Superman is not supposed to be “wish fufillment” for all of your white, male privileged bullshit, guys.  He’s also not supposed to be wish fufillment for those of you that believe that if you had Superman’s physical power and looks you would obviously use them to bang the hottest girl in the world AKA Wonder Woman.  He’s not supposed to be wish fufillment for your shallow, macho BULLSHIT.  He was wish fufillment for two Jewish men who longed to be accepted in a world torn with bigotry and oppression and longed for the love of a human working woman that worked one desk over.

So when I see people talking about how “awesome” it would be for Batman to come into Superman’s movie and “beat the shit out of him”….I’m not just annoyed with you.  I’m not just angry at you.  You actually make me uncomfortable.   Your thoughts about fictional icons and myths make me uncomfortable.  I’m uncomfortable with you taking a unique and special male icon that actually is meant to challenge oppression and bogging him down with your god forsaken privilege.

(via dytabytes)

1. all of this is wonderful and good and ghostorballoons actually enlightened me to the fact that superman’s original basis was the strong man, who is pretty important in jewish american iconography so even taking away his “stupid underwear” as so many people have wanted to do for so long (and succeeded) is actually an effort to remove superman from his roots as a jewish figure.

2. who played superman that was biracial? 

(via alienswithankhs)

Dean Cain.  His background looks mostly flavors of White, but his paternal grandfather is Japanese.  He was born in 1966 as Dean George Tanaka, but his wikipedia page says his mother married film director Christopher Cain in 1969, so… (Also Christopher Cain adopted Dean and his brother)

Also Superman himself is adopted and an illegal alien.  Let’s not forget that.  He accepts both his birth family and his adopted family as family and doesn’t make one family more important or “real” than the other.  He has both parents and they love each other and their son very much.  It’s not the typical adoption story that we tell, where the birth family is called the “real parents” and either the child or the adopted family is vilified. 

(via buttphantasmic)

I’m a closet Superman fan and people give me shit for it all the time.

(via the-siege-perilous)

the dean cain superman was awesome

(via glintglimmergleam)

desert-neon:

snooziep:

four
his jewellery

My apologies to Coco Chanel. The bunnies made me do it.
_________
“Where’s all your adornment, Barton?” Clint loves his man jewelry, and Tony loves to tease him about it. In truth, the guy does have decent taste, even if he doesn’t seem to follow that rule about taking one thing off before leaving the house. Pepper loves that rule, lives by that rule. Tony has caught her literally following that rule, leaving one accessory on a table or counter, or even in the car.
But Barton loves his silver rings, his leather wrist wraps, his punk watches. He has necklaces and charms he wears in pairs and groups of three, he has beads and baubles and chains, he even has some handmade woven bracelets from fans. Anytime he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he’s fairly certain they won’t be called to action and he’s required to dress up a little, he wears at least six pieces of jewelry. At least. It’s usually at an event, like the annual Stark Industries gala, or Tony’s personal New Year’s party. That one time Coulson made him attend the super secret spy fundraiser. (Tony still isn’t sure how funds are raised when no one is supposed to know why they’re there or who’s hosting. But apparently it’s a yearly thing, so it must work somehow.) At Hill’s wedding, and when they’d managed to attend Coulson’s reunion thing. (Clint actually had been called to work then, but it wasn’t as if he could have planned for Coulson’s old sergeant to have some kind of mental implant, and for that implant to have made him go on a rampage when it short-circuited.) So to see Clint now, all dressed up in a suit (no tie, shirt casually unbuttoned at the top) but sans silver is just fucking weird. 
“Seriously. No bracelets or necklaces, even?”
But Barton just shakes his head, slaps Natasha’s hand away as she tugs on the hem of his jacket, and takes a breath. “Text Pepper,” he says. “Ask her if it’s time.”
Tony obeys, though he bitches about it as he does so. “See, this is why you should at least be wearing a watch. I am not your message service, Katniss. I am not Western Union. I have better things to do than— Oh. Pepper says to come on down.”
Clint laughs, a little high and manic. “Clint Barton, come on down!”
“Yeah,” Tony adds. “I’m not Bob Barker either.”
“You ready?” Natasha asks, ignoring the both of them in favor of the mission objective.
Clint nods and squares his shoulders before moving to the door. Tony would think that the man was marching to his doom but for the smile he gets as they board the elevator. He’s not meeting his fate (or maybe he is, to the romantically inclined. Tony is not one of those people), he’s just meeting Coulson. Coulson and their friends and teammates.
And a justice of the peace. Can’t forget that.
Tony looks at Barton’s left hand, at the bare fingers, and absolutely does not smile.
desert-neon:

snooziep:

four
his jewellery

My apologies to Coco Chanel. The bunnies made me do it.
_________
“Where’s all your adornment, Barton?” Clint loves his man jewelry, and Tony loves to tease him about it. In truth, the guy does have decent taste, even if he doesn’t seem to follow that rule about taking one thing off before leaving the house. Pepper loves that rule, lives by that rule. Tony has caught her literally following that rule, leaving one accessory on a table or counter, or even in the car.
But Barton loves his silver rings, his leather wrist wraps, his punk watches. He has necklaces and charms he wears in pairs and groups of three, he has beads and baubles and chains, he even has some handmade woven bracelets from fans. Anytime he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he’s fairly certain they won’t be called to action and he’s required to dress up a little, he wears at least six pieces of jewelry. At least. It’s usually at an event, like the annual Stark Industries gala, or Tony’s personal New Year’s party. That one time Coulson made him attend the super secret spy fundraiser. (Tony still isn’t sure how funds are raised when no one is supposed to know why they’re there or who’s hosting. But apparently it’s a yearly thing, so it must work somehow.) At Hill’s wedding, and when they’d managed to attend Coulson’s reunion thing. (Clint actually had been called to work then, but it wasn’t as if he could have planned for Coulson’s old sergeant to have some kind of mental implant, and for that implant to have made him go on a rampage when it short-circuited.) So to see Clint now, all dressed up in a suit (no tie, shirt casually unbuttoned at the top) but sans silver is just fucking weird. 
“Seriously. No bracelets or necklaces, even?”
But Barton just shakes his head, slaps Natasha’s hand away as she tugs on the hem of his jacket, and takes a breath. “Text Pepper,” he says. “Ask her if it’s time.”
Tony obeys, though he bitches about it as he does so. “See, this is why you should at least be wearing a watch. I am not your message service, Katniss. I am not Western Union. I have better things to do than— Oh. Pepper says to come on down.”
Clint laughs, a little high and manic. “Clint Barton, come on down!”
“Yeah,” Tony adds. “I’m not Bob Barker either.”
“You ready?” Natasha asks, ignoring the both of them in favor of the mission objective.
Clint nods and squares his shoulders before moving to the door. Tony would think that the man was marching to his doom but for the smile he gets as they board the elevator. He’s not meeting his fate (or maybe he is, to the romantically inclined. Tony is not one of those people), he’s just meeting Coulson. Coulson and their friends and teammates.
And a justice of the peace. Can’t forget that.
Tony looks at Barton’s left hand, at the bare fingers, and absolutely does not smile.
desert-neon:

snooziep:

four
his jewellery

My apologies to Coco Chanel. The bunnies made me do it.
_________
“Where’s all your adornment, Barton?” Clint loves his man jewelry, and Tony loves to tease him about it. In truth, the guy does have decent taste, even if he doesn’t seem to follow that rule about taking one thing off before leaving the house. Pepper loves that rule, lives by that rule. Tony has caught her literally following that rule, leaving one accessory on a table or counter, or even in the car.
But Barton loves his silver rings, his leather wrist wraps, his punk watches. He has necklaces and charms he wears in pairs and groups of three, he has beads and baubles and chains, he even has some handmade woven bracelets from fans. Anytime he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he’s fairly certain they won’t be called to action and he’s required to dress up a little, he wears at least six pieces of jewelry. At least. It’s usually at an event, like the annual Stark Industries gala, or Tony’s personal New Year’s party. That one time Coulson made him attend the super secret spy fundraiser. (Tony still isn’t sure how funds are raised when no one is supposed to know why they’re there or who’s hosting. But apparently it’s a yearly thing, so it must work somehow.) At Hill’s wedding, and when they’d managed to attend Coulson’s reunion thing. (Clint actually had been called to work then, but it wasn’t as if he could have planned for Coulson’s old sergeant to have some kind of mental implant, and for that implant to have made him go on a rampage when it short-circuited.) So to see Clint now, all dressed up in a suit (no tie, shirt casually unbuttoned at the top) but sans silver is just fucking weird. 
“Seriously. No bracelets or necklaces, even?”
But Barton just shakes his head, slaps Natasha’s hand away as she tugs on the hem of his jacket, and takes a breath. “Text Pepper,” he says. “Ask her if it’s time.”
Tony obeys, though he bitches about it as he does so. “See, this is why you should at least be wearing a watch. I am not your message service, Katniss. I am not Western Union. I have better things to do than— Oh. Pepper says to come on down.”
Clint laughs, a little high and manic. “Clint Barton, come on down!”
“Yeah,” Tony adds. “I’m not Bob Barker either.”
“You ready?” Natasha asks, ignoring the both of them in favor of the mission objective.
Clint nods and squares his shoulders before moving to the door. Tony would think that the man was marching to his doom but for the smile he gets as they board the elevator. He’s not meeting his fate (or maybe he is, to the romantically inclined. Tony is not one of those people), he’s just meeting Coulson. Coulson and their friends and teammates.
And a justice of the peace. Can’t forget that.
Tony looks at Barton’s left hand, at the bare fingers, and absolutely does not smile.
desert-neon:

snooziep:

four
his jewellery

My apologies to Coco Chanel. The bunnies made me do it.
_________
“Where’s all your adornment, Barton?” Clint loves his man jewelry, and Tony loves to tease him about it. In truth, the guy does have decent taste, even if he doesn’t seem to follow that rule about taking one thing off before leaving the house. Pepper loves that rule, lives by that rule. Tony has caught her literally following that rule, leaving one accessory on a table or counter, or even in the car.
But Barton loves his silver rings, his leather wrist wraps, his punk watches. He has necklaces and charms he wears in pairs and groups of three, he has beads and baubles and chains, he even has some handmade woven bracelets from fans. Anytime he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he’s fairly certain they won’t be called to action and he’s required to dress up a little, he wears at least six pieces of jewelry. At least. It’s usually at an event, like the annual Stark Industries gala, or Tony’s personal New Year’s party. That one time Coulson made him attend the super secret spy fundraiser. (Tony still isn’t sure how funds are raised when no one is supposed to know why they’re there or who’s hosting. But apparently it’s a yearly thing, so it must work somehow.) At Hill’s wedding, and when they’d managed to attend Coulson’s reunion thing. (Clint actually had been called to work then, but it wasn’t as if he could have planned for Coulson’s old sergeant to have some kind of mental implant, and for that implant to have made him go on a rampage when it short-circuited.) So to see Clint now, all dressed up in a suit (no tie, shirt casually unbuttoned at the top) but sans silver is just fucking weird. 
“Seriously. No bracelets or necklaces, even?”
But Barton just shakes his head, slaps Natasha’s hand away as she tugs on the hem of his jacket, and takes a breath. “Text Pepper,” he says. “Ask her if it’s time.”
Tony obeys, though he bitches about it as he does so. “See, this is why you should at least be wearing a watch. I am not your message service, Katniss. I am not Western Union. I have better things to do than— Oh. Pepper says to come on down.”
Clint laughs, a little high and manic. “Clint Barton, come on down!”
“Yeah,” Tony adds. “I’m not Bob Barker either.”
“You ready?” Natasha asks, ignoring the both of them in favor of the mission objective.
Clint nods and squares his shoulders before moving to the door. Tony would think that the man was marching to his doom but for the smile he gets as they board the elevator. He’s not meeting his fate (or maybe he is, to the romantically inclined. Tony is not one of those people), he’s just meeting Coulson. Coulson and their friends and teammates.
And a justice of the peace. Can’t forget that.
Tony looks at Barton’s left hand, at the bare fingers, and absolutely does not smile.

desert-neon:

snooziep:

four

his jewellery

My apologies to Coco Chanel. The bunnies made me do it.

_________

“Where’s all your adornment, Barton?” Clint loves his man jewelry, and Tony loves to tease him about it. In truth, the guy does have decent taste, even if he doesn’t seem to follow that rule about taking one thing off before leaving the house. Pepper loves that rule, lives by that rule. Tony has caught her literally following that rule, leaving one accessory on a table or counter, or even in the car.

But Barton loves his silver rings, his leather wrist wraps, his punk watches. He has necklaces and charms he wears in pairs and groups of three, he has beads and baubles and chains, he even has some handmade woven bracelets from fans. Anytime he thinks he can get away with it, whenever he’s fairly certain they won’t be called to action and he’s required to dress up a little, he wears at least six pieces of jewelry. At least. It’s usually at an event, like the annual Stark Industries gala, or Tony’s personal New Year’s party. That one time Coulson made him attend the super secret spy fundraiser. (Tony still isn’t sure how funds are raised when no one is supposed to know why they’re there or who’s hosting. But apparently it’s a yearly thing, so it must work somehow.) At Hill’s wedding, and when they’d managed to attend Coulson’s reunion thing. (Clint actually had been called to work then, but it wasn’t as if he could have planned for Coulson’s old sergeant to have some kind of mental implant, and for that implant to have made him go on a rampage when it short-circuited.) So to see Clint now, all dressed up in a suit (no tie, shirt casually unbuttoned at the top) but sans silver is just fucking weird. 

“Seriously. No bracelets or necklaces, even?”

But Barton just shakes his head, slaps Natasha’s hand away as she tugs on the hem of his jacket, and takes a breath. “Text Pepper,” he says. “Ask her if it’s time.”

Tony obeys, though he bitches about it as he does so. “See, this is why you should at least be wearing a watch. I am not your message service, Katniss. I am not Western Union. I have better things to do than— Oh. Pepper says to come on down.”

Clint laughs, a little high and manic. “Clint Barton, come on down!”

“Yeah,” Tony adds. “I’m not Bob Barker either.”

“You ready?” Natasha asks, ignoring the both of them in favor of the mission objective.

Clint nods and squares his shoulders before moving to the door. Tony would think that the man was marching to his doom but for the smile he gets as they board the elevator. He’s not meeting his fate (or maybe he is, to the romantically inclined. Tony is not one of those people), he’s just meeting Coulson. Coulson and their friends and teammates.

And a justice of the peace. Can’t forget that.

Tony looks at Barton’s left hand, at the bare fingers, and absolutely does not smile.

fuckyesdeadpool:

God bless America

fuckyesdeadpool:

God bless America

(Source: bulimiccokehead)

fuckyeahtattoos:

What is your favourite band???

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  1. Camera: iPhone 4S
  2. Aperture: f/2.4
  3. Exposure: 1/20th
  4. Focal Length: 4mm