Ms. Marvel #5. Preliminary by Marie Severin; Final cover by Ed Hannigan and Joe Sinnott.
DOOM WAGON
DOOM WAGON
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Tom Hiddleston and Thea Sharrock -director of The Hollow Crown: Henry V- talk about how Tom learned his big speeches.
(Source: enchantedbyhiddles)
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Not everyone gets their happy ending. Sometimes it’s just an ending.
Thank you for making me cry.
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Pouty face.
(Source: dryvodkamartini)
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me: where's leonardo dicaprio's oscar
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(Source: whenthesuspenderscomeoff)
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Scarlett Johansson + Red lipstick
My absolute must-have is a really rich and vibrant red lipstick. I always keep red lipstick in my bag because I never know when I might show up to an event and be completely under-dressed. I feel like red lipstick is the cure-all for everything.
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One in a million.
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This is progress, Pepper.
(Source: dryvodkamartini)
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can’t wait for titanic 4D when they actually flood the movie theater and people start drowning and they turn the air conditioning all the way down so it’s really like you’re a part of the movie
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(Source: mishasteaparty)
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Admit it. You need me. We’re connected!
(Source: mishasteaparty)
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Mass Effect/Dragon Age in white ~ requested by anon.
As the sun rises, a hero does. As the sun goes down, a hero does not.
this gif set is awesome but it also makes me see parallels and continuities that insist to me that, one day, as a small group of the very first wardens push into the deep roads, clearing errant darkspawn from ancient, abandoned thaigs
they come across a chamber yet deeper than the dwarf nobles’ ruins of old
there, in that chamber, lie the bones of an enormous beast, close in size to an archdemon—and carvings on unfamiliar, sleek, still half-polished metals indicate the name of this beast: THRESHER MAW
deeper in the chamber, they find the remains of what appears to be a single dwelling. on its side, gilding coated with dust, is a curious message they cannot parse.
NORMANDY.
‘here lies the shepard,’ one warden reads.
‘in war, victory,’ another reads. ’in peace, vigilance.’
and, though she is very far away from the deep, with fresh air upon her sharp cheek, an old woman opens her eyes. they glitter like eezo, like lyrium, magic like dark energy, mirrors all around her like shattered artifacts—in her heart a beacon just waiting to be ignited once more.
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