Yohji Yamamoto SS2008
Dylan O’brien + incredibly good performance as Stiles Stilinski.
booty vs booty
I’m always amazed how much control Chris has over that shield. When Tom turns it is swinging around uncontrollably, while in Chris’ hand it stays perfectly still.
If you notice, Chris moves his body fluidly. The shield is resting on his arm when he swings around, so when he faces Chris (Thor) he slows his body. Chris has maximum control over the shield. Not to mention that he’s familiar with it. He’s had countless hours playing with it no doubt. Swinging it, throwing it, doing everything he can to make the shield a part of his arm. He’s putting weight to what could possibly be a foam shield with a shiny paint job, even though it should weigh more than that. He’s conscious about that.
Tom, even though the timing is almost the same, swings his body around recklessly. He’s trying to emphasis his lines. He’s acting as Loki who is trying to act like Steve. He’s not conscious about the shield. He’s not familiar with it. Loki is making fun of the man out of time. Its a game that he’s playing, and Tom recognizes that. Loki is just being his mischievous self, and Tom knows that.
Tom is to Loki.
Chris is to Steve.
Each know what they’re suppose to know about their bodies.
Their fine bodies.
The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?
i survived because the fire
burned brighter than the fire a r o u n d me
I’d like to produce. I’d like to come up with ideas and collaborate with people and directors and writers that I like, be a part of movies that have the same idea that the movies that impacted me have. I’d like to be able to do that for people.
Tom Hiddleston visits the Marvel offices. [link]
You all realize this is us in about 20 years.
Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield for Teen Vogue
we’re the freakin’ guardians of the galaxy
'LITTLE BROTHER, WE DO NOT STAB PEOPLE. IT IS IMPOLITE'
BUT THOR. MURDER.
A short story of a college students life
This isn’t going to end with us burying the pieces of his body out in the desert, is it?
And under here, Hedwig”—Harry pulled open a door under the stairs—“is where I used to sleep; You never knew me then— Blimey, it’s small, I’d forgotten… .”
Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas, remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the underside of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before he had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had dogged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once—Uncle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had recounted it—a flying motorbike..