dimensionsinprobability:

You would think that maybe Tony would be genre-savvy with the whole renegade-destruction-robot-apocalypse thing, but no

POSTED July 23, 2014 @ 23:15 WITH 15,450 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: iwantcupcakes (SOURCE: dimensionsinprobability)

"I am a woman, a mutant, a thief, an X-Men, a lover, a wife, a queen. I am all these things. I am Storm, and for me, there are no such things as limits."

"I am a woman, a mutant, a thief, an X-Men, a lover, a wife, a queen. I am all these things. I am Storm, and for me, there are no such things as limits."

POSTED July 03, 2014 @ 02:11 WITH 5,368 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: gideons (SOURCE: women-of-marvel)
emma-monsta:

Hiccstrid hug~

emma-monsta:

Hiccstrid hug~

POSTED July 02, 2014 @ 09:06 WITH 20,405 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: viria (SOURCE: emma-monsta)
mmcoconut:

"Dammit Steve, hold still"
pose

mmcoconut:

"Dammit Steve, hold still"

pose

POSTED June 30, 2014 @ 00:20 WITH 33,597 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: falulatonks (SOURCE: mmcoconut)
nymre:

READY TO GET WRECKED CHILDREN 

nymre:

READY TO GET WRECKED CHILDREN 

POSTED June 29, 2014 @ 22:08 WITH 4,434 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: letseyx (SOURCE: nymre)
when-it-rains-it-snows:

I would love to tell you that I spent even a full minute resisting the urge to paint this classic coffee joke with Hawkeyes, but I did no such thing: you just know they’d be assholes about coffee.
(if you love me at all, click it to see it bigger)

when-it-rains-it-snows:

I would love to tell you that I spent even a full minute resisting the urge to paint this classic coffee joke with Hawkeyes, but I did no such thing: you just know they’d be assholes about coffee.

(if you love me at all, click it to see it bigger)

POSTED June 26, 2014 @ 10:32 WITH 6,575 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: falulatonks (SOURCE: when-it-rains-it-snows)
themarysue:

philnoto:

Sarah Manning

All the Phil Noto appreciation.

themarysue:

philnoto:

Sarah Manning

All the Phil Noto appreciation.

POSTED June 26, 2014 @ 02:08 WITH 12,841 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: ironspy (SOURCE: philnoto)
peppercrow:

get them out of here sam

peppercrow:

get them out of here sam

POSTED June 16, 2014 @ 20:20 WITH 49,367 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: letseyx (SOURCE: peppercrow)

theminttu:

The King beneath the mountains
The King of carven stone
The lord of silver fountains
Shall come into his own

POSTED June 15, 2014 @ 21:20 WITH 8,272 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: eros-turannos (SOURCE: theminttu)
maskedfangirl:

I made printedsoot Calvin and Hobbes style Leverage OT3 fanart for Christmas. Tiny, grumpy, upside-down Eliot Spencer might be one of my favorite things I’ve drawn all year.

maskedfangirl:

I made printedsoot Calvin and Hobbes style Leverage OT3 fanart for Christmas. Tiny, grumpy, upside-down Eliot Spencer might be one of my favorite things I’ve drawn all year.

POSTED June 13, 2014 @ 00:46 WITH 1,961 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: falulatonks (SOURCE: maskedfangirl)
gyzym:

crowthis:

keep the cushions and the couch too, ok pal?

In sleep is the only time Bucky doesn’t have to look at Steve through his lashes; he does it anyway. Always has. There’s too much of him otherwise, he hurts to look at, he’s too bright for Bucky’s uncovered eyes and Bucky wonders, some days, if that isn’t why he’s always finding trouble. Moths are drawn to flame and Steve burns, in sleep and out of it, with passion on some days and fever on others but always, always, with hope — even now, grief etched along the defeated curl of his body, he sips in every breath like he believes wholly in what he’ll do with it. It makes Bucky struggle with his own inhalations because he’s the moth, he’s been the moth as long as he can remember and it’s all he wants: to be stupid, to be young, to spread his wings and burn alive in Steve’s fire. 
Steve shudders, shifts; his arm escapes from where it’s been huddled trapped beneath his chest and drops down towards the floor. His fingers curl loose around the tender flesh beneath Bucky’s elbow and Bucky opens his eyes wide for once — to prove it to himself. To see. Maybe he’s less a moth than that guy from the stories Steve liked in school, wax wings and a dangerous flight pattern; Steve’s circulation is for shit and still Bucky can feel himself melting beneath his chill-fingered touch, dripping through the cracks in the floorboards. His eyes ache, and his chest, and his pulse speeds up because it’s harder labor than he’s ever done, to look at Steve here in the darkness. He lets slip a small sound and Steve’s face shifts just from that, a soft frown appearing in the lines along his forehead. The back of Bucky’s throat itches from him, from all the jagged want he’s swallowed. 
Please, Bucky thinks. Bucky thinks: please. 

gyzym:

crowthis:

keep the cushions and the couch too, ok pal?

In sleep is the only time Bucky doesn’t have to look at Steve through his lashes; he does it anyway. Always has. There’s too much of him otherwise, he hurts to look at, he’s too bright for Bucky’s uncovered eyes and Bucky wonders, some days, if that isn’t why he’s always finding trouble. Moths are drawn to flame and Steve burns, in sleep and out of it, with passion on some days and fever on others but always, always, with hope — even now, grief etched along the defeated curl of his body, he sips in every breath like he believes wholly in what he’ll do with it. It makes Bucky struggle with his own inhalations because he’s the moth, he’s been the moth as long as he can remember and it’s all he wants: to be stupid, to be young, to spread his wings and burn alive in Steve’s fire. 

Steve shudders, shifts; his arm escapes from where it’s been huddled trapped beneath his chest and drops down towards the floor. His fingers curl loose around the tender flesh beneath Bucky’s elbow and Bucky opens his eyes wide for once — to prove it to himself. To see. Maybe he’s less a moth than that guy from the stories Steve liked in school, wax wings and a dangerous flight pattern; Steve’s circulation is for shit and still Bucky can feel himself melting beneath his chill-fingered touch, dripping through the cracks in the floorboards. His eyes ache, and his chest, and his pulse speeds up because it’s harder labor than he’s ever done, to look at Steve here in the darkness. He lets slip a small sound and Steve’s face shifts just from that, a soft frown appearing in the lines along his forehead. The back of Bucky’s throat itches from him, from all the jagged want he’s swallowed. 

Please, Bucky thinks. Bucky thinks: please

POSTED June 02, 2014 @ 20:50 WITH 7,197 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: gyzym (SOURCE: crowthis)
stereowire:

and maybe i’m too blind to see, the line was always crossed in me

stereowire:

and maybe i’m too blind to see, the line was always crossed in me

POSTED May 10, 2014 @ 07:59 WITH 11,366 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: roboclaws (SOURCE: stereowire)
meekobits:

As you can see, I’m being very productive….

meekobits:

As you can see, I’m being very productive….

POSTED May 05, 2014 @ 23:10 WITH 21,994 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: soyonscruels (SOURCE: meekobits)

mechinaries:

whatever you say bucky

POSTED May 03, 2014 @ 05:27 WITH 102,043 notes
REBLOGGED FROM: loki-dokey (SOURCE: mechinaries)