Odd Romeo and Juliet Tumblr Posts
Quick tip for those who may not know, Kamala Khan’s first name is pronounced ‘Kam-La’ as opposed to ‘Ka-Ma-La’
Might not seem like a big deal, but she’s the first (and thus far only) South Asian superhero to have her own title, and the closest thing some of us have to representation in comics, so I really hope people get her name right :)
Anyway, can’t wait for issue #7!
Gabriel’s oboe (from “Mission” OST) - Stjepan Hauser
I WAS THERE YOU GUYS
AND FOR TWO MINUTES AND FIFTY EIGHT SECONDS WE WERE ALL IN HEAVEN
HAVE YOU HEARD Sara Bareilles’s cover of Sia’s Chandelier, because it is goddamn AMAZING.
true friendship is making up headcanons together and crying
ron, harry & hermione!
i like to imagine that after the war ends & everything gets cleaned up, the three of them get a flat together while they recuperate & try to figure out where to go from there. and they all have a tough time of it at first, but eventually they create someplace all of them can call home.
I love when people randomly follow me because I assume they’ve just seen something I said and went “ah yes. This nerd seems particularly strange. Let’s see what else it does”
“The movie is about…as he struggles to find an identity in the modern world, his old life is slipping away - is hanging on by a thread. Peggy doesn’t remember him… and she’ll be dead soon. She’s the last remnant of his past. And Sam happens to find his way into his life, so now he’s slowly meeting a new friend, he’s gaining a trust with Widow…so the movie is about a journey for him as he finds new elements in the modern world to emotionally attach himself to. The cruel twist is that, the Winter Soldier shows up…and it’s like the past punching him in the face.” — Joe Russo [x]
darling, everything’s on fire, pg, title from Taylor Swift’s Safe and Sound
The reek of smoke and metal floods the car despite the best efforts of the A/C, soaking everything in the scent of destruction, of death; under the tires autumn leaves skitter across yellow lines as they fly past, rolling away the miles between the decimation of the mafia boss’ mansion and the safety of evergreen-lined roads, small towns and anonymous places. He looks away from the highway to check on her, huddled in the passenger seat with his jacket pulled tight by white-knuckled fingers, and puts his arm around her hunched shoulders.
She closes her eyes, leaning into his touch, and tucks her nose into the jacket collar to breathe in Old Spice and sweat instead of her past burning away.