I love it because it just looks like Ki Hong is thinking, “I don’t dance. No amount of whatever it is you’re doing right now is going to change that.”
Especially cause the first one looks like Dylan is trying to seduce him into dancing.
"Brainy’s the new sexy."
You think that you can’t make mistakes, but there’s going to come a moment when you realize you’re wrong about that, and you’re going to get yourself and everyone under your command killed.
I need you to protect me. Can you do that?
Fine, fandom. You don’t want to gif Mako and Stacker? I’ll fucking gif Mako and Stacker, because if there was ever a relationship that carried the emotional impact of a film, it’s fucking this one. Without a doubt, we saw their relationship from start to finish and it was complete with a role reversal. Stacker protected Mako in Tokyo, and now she’s protecting him on Operation Pitfall. And this scene is just my absolute favorite because Stacker’s a soldier from top to bottom, but here we genuinely see the father that he’s become to Mako and the person she looks up to and the one she gets her strength and drive from. And without words, although the words hurt just as much, they managed to destroy me emotionally with this small gesture, a you-blink-and-you-miss-it moment: Stacker saying to Mako, “Hey. [We’ve got a job to do, let’s go do it.]” A subtle tipping of her chin; a quick, inconsequential shrug of his shoulders, and immediately Mako straightens, squares her shoulders, taking his strength as hers and they’re ready. They’re ready to save the world together. In Pacific Rim: Tales From Year Zero, Stacker comments that young Mako reminded him of himself; “Quiet, serious.” Based on this, I feel like their relationship is significantly based on their body language, and how they conduct themselves around each other. There were just volumes that were spoken about their relationship in this one scene and this one moment that it made seeing it in theaters 8 times in theaters worth it.
#oh god #the way they have their own quiet physical language because neither of them use words unless necessary #she’ll gesture to her nose to warn him his is bleeding #and he can square his shoulders and immediately she switches back from private/emotional mode to lady sword soldier mode #private little reminders and ways of speaking to each other #i just #asdfghj
There was an idea called the A v e n g e r s I n i t i a t i v e. The idea was to bring together a group of of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could.
insp. by x
Just a reminder to the world that there is this glorious feminist thing called the Hawkeye Initiative. Where people draw Hawkeye (and possibly other avengers) in various sexual poses that comic artists generally depict women in.
seriously though, i’d give parts of my soul for Stiles and Derek to accidentally kiss and then be like ho shit, i don’t know where that came from I mean— we’re not—
AND THEN THEY SAY SCREW IT AND MAKE OUT FOR TEN HOURS OK YES.
"What…" In a stupor, Stiles reaches up and drags the back of his hand over his lips. They’re still wet.
"I don’t." Derek takes a step back, and slowly disengages his fingers from Stiles’ hair. "I honestly. Um."
“What,” Stiles says again, because it bears repeating.
"Well, I don’t—you jumped at me!”
"You looked at my mouth, though!”
"So what!" Derek clenches his fists. "I look at your mouth all the time!"
"Not that—I don’t mean—" Derek takes a long, heavy breath. "We’re both very tired right now."
"Yes, completely fried." Stiles’ eyes slip down to Derek’s chest, because it’s heaving shallowly. Stiles has never seen it do that before. He can’t look away from the rapid rise-and-fall of Derek’s collarbones.
"Everyone has strange impulses when they’re…"
"Exactly!" Stiles says, pointing at him. "Exactly. Like being drunk!"
"Or drugged," Derek agrees, nodding. He looks wild-eyed and cornered, and is he sweating a bit at his temples?
"Like having a head injury?" Stiles suggests, reaching out to cup Derek’s jaw and brush his thumb against his sideburns, just to check.
"Or like being really fucking attracted to you,” Derek sighs, frustrated.
"Yeah, or like that," Stiles agrees with an angry eye-roll, and Derek groans and pulls him back in by his hoodie strings.
Imagine that at the end of Dumbledore’s speech at the beginning of the year, he asks if there are any questions, and one first year muggleborn kid raises his hand, whips out a smart phone and asks for the wifi password.
And then Dumbledore just casually says “Sherbet lemon, with a capital S”, and commences the feast like it’s no big deal while the non-muggleborns think WIFI is some sort of secret society.