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sockleton:

some danimals

sockleton:

some danimals

tbdressfashion:

day dress

theirtinywings:

samjohnssonvt:

gryphonrhi:

thezhenger:

chris control your goddamn face you have just gone through an extremely painful super-serum transformation you did not just have the diddly doo orgasm

…actually, at this point, Steve’s just now experiencing the sudden absence of both recent extreme pain and long-term low level pain.  He’s probably so high on endorphins that the expression is completely accurate.

Also, he was asthmatic. This is the first time in twenty years that his lungs work. Ever had an oxygen high?

Might not be an O-face folks, but homeboys high as a kite.

absentlyabbie:

shinykari:

legete:

haipollai:

ok, idk how easy this is to read but since everyone is discussing dates, i went to the movie to check. this is steve’s rejection from the beginning, his birthday is in the upper right corner and there’s ANOTHEr date in the lower left which I think is supposed to be a today’s date kind of thing and it looks to be June 14 1943
so there we go, steve enlists in mid 1943

#this feels late for bucky to be enlisting #but that isn’t the issue
How interesting that you would mention this, because I’ve recently been thinking he didn’t enlist. His serial number, which he’s heard muttering when Steve comes to rescue him, starts “32557.”
According to this fabulous WWII serial number generator, an enlisted man from New York should have a serial number starting with the numbers “12.”
A New York man with a serial number starting with “32”? Drafted. What we may be dealing with here is a Bucky who didn’t choose to go to war but was instead compelled to do so versus a Steve who is desperate to get in. I think it opens up a lot of different and interesting storylines for the two of them.

There’s been some great meta/discussion about this in the last couple days, which I think is great.

Makes you wonder if Bucky got the draft, and then, knowing how Steve felt about things, told his best buddy he was “enlisting.” Because how do you face this skinny, brave idiot who just won’t stop trying to volunteer that you wouldn’t be going if you didn’t have to?

absentlyabbie:

shinykari:

legete:

haipollai:

ok, idk how easy this is to read but since everyone is discussing dates, i went to the movie to check. this is steve’s rejection from the beginning, his birthday is in the upper right corner and there’s ANOTHEr date in the lower left which I think is supposed to be a today’s date kind of thing and it looks to be June 14 1943

so there we go, steve enlists in mid 1943

#this feels late for bucky to be enlisting #but that isn’t the issue

How interesting that you would mention this, because I’ve recently been thinking he didn’t enlist. His serial number, which he’s heard muttering when Steve comes to rescue him, starts “32557.”

According to this fabulous WWII serial number generator, an enlisted man from New York should have a serial number starting with the numbers “12.”

A New York man with a serial number starting with “32”? Drafted. What we may be dealing with here is a Bucky who didn’t choose to go to war but was instead compelled to do so versus a Steve who is desperate to get in. I think it opens up a lot of different and interesting storylines for the two of them.

There’s been some great meta/discussion about this in the last couple days, which I think is great.

Makes you wonder if Bucky got the draft, and then, knowing how Steve felt about things, told his best buddy he was “enlisting.” Because how do you face this skinny, brave idiot who just won’t stop trying to volunteer that you wouldn’t be going if you didn’t have to?

straightwhitelucci:

Otohime and baby shirahoshi will be my first one piece paper craft

straightwhitelucci:

Otohime and baby shirahoshi will be my first one piece paper craft

dewitts:

sodomywithsaddam:

okayyy can everybody stop talking shit about ppl who give their dogs and cats all-vegan diets, i fed my cat all raw vegan food since he was a kitten and he lived a very happy four years :)

image

"The Winter Soldier’s relationship with Alexander Pierce is a direct parallel to Steve’s relationship with Nick Fury. Steve is able to doubt Fury’s trustworthiness because he has a solid bedrock of moral certainty, but Bucky never had that luxury, even back when he was fully himself. Now, Bucky’s mind is a quicksand, and Pierce may be the only vaguely familiar face he knows. Having imprinted onto Pierce like a baby duckling, why not believe him when he says the Winter Soldier “shaped the century”? (Yet another parallel between Steve and Bucky, by the way: Captain America shaping the world as a heroic icon and comicbook character, while the Winter Soldier shapes things from the shadows, carrying out anonymous assassinations on behalf of HYDRA.)

The Winter Soldier’s facial expressions are almost childlike in the lab scene, and the way he passively accepts that mouth guard tells you everything you need to know. He could probably kill everyone in the room within seconds, but instead he just lies back and lets them torture his brain to mush for the hundredth time. Before now he seemed like such an intimidating figure, but this scene shows the Winter Soldier as what he really is: a little kid or a blank slate into which people insert their own goals and missions, fully-formed.

"But I knew him," he says in miserable confusion, sure that he recognises Steve’s face. But Pierce, the voice of God, refuses to explain any further. Sebastian Stan’s entire acting career of weeping while being emotionally abused by unpleasant father figures has all been leading up to this role, and I for one am not amused."

CATWS: The Tragedy of Bucky Barnes

aphnederlands:

source
Why Children's Cartoons Should Be Taken Seriously
Danny Phantom: A 14-year-old boy with an already sucky life gets half-killed by his parents' stupidity, and has to try to keep up with his own life.
American Dragon: A 13-year-old boy discovers that he is actually a beast hated by most and has to deal with the same shit as Danny Phantom, only double as much because his awful teacher knows.
Fairly OddParents: A depressed 10-year-old is given a pair of magic fairies to help relieve him of all different forms of child abuse.
The Last Airbender: A 12-year-old boy is given the responsibility of saving the entire world by mastering a decade's worth of mystic skills in under a year.
ultrafacts:

For more posts like this, follow Ultrafacts (Source)

ultrafacts:

For more posts like this, follow Ultrafacts (Source)

thegill-man:

Retro-style posters that were given out to the cast and crew of the Captain America films. I absolutely love these, and really wish they’d been the official one-sheets. The First Avenger poster is absolutely beautiful.

hetaliacentral:

~***~
holyfuckface:

purple-eagle6:

maths-is-sexy:

damnthosewinchesterboys:

found the twelve year old

this is almost as fun as ‘find the vegan’

we are not entertainment clowns. we simply eat healthy. go back to burger king.

i found the vegan

holyfuckface:

purple-eagle6:

maths-is-sexy:

damnthosewinchesterboys:

found the twelve year old

this is almost as fun as ‘find the vegan’

we are not entertainment clowns. we simply eat healthy. go back to burger king.

i found the vegan

thalensis:

[Image description: Helen Keller sits by a radio, with her hand over it, in order to feel the vibrations of the music playing]
Helen Keller wrote the following letter to the New York Symphony Orchestra in 1924, describing listening to the “Ninth Symphony” composed by Beethoven - who was also deaf - over the radio: 

“Dear Friends:
I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibration, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roil of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.
As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.” 

thalensis:

[Image description: Helen Keller sits by a radio, with her hand over it, in order to feel the vibrations of the music playing]

Helen Keller wrote the following letter to the New York Symphony Orchestra in 1924, describing listening to the “Ninth Symphony” composed by Beethoven - who was also deaf - over the radio: 

“Dear Friends:

I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibration, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roil of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.

Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.

As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.”