I have wasted my hours

Well that's just, like, your opinion, man...

A long time ago, Natalia Romanova made me remember what it was to feel human. And they punished us both for that, in different ways.

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Can we just talk about the moment when the Howling Commandos realize that the only reason any of them made it out is because Steve loves Bucky That. Fucking. Much.? That if Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes were just a tiny bit less adorable, they’d all be dead?


It was getting late, that portion of the night where the alcohol was no longer making you forget quite as well as it had been.  The Howling Commandos lingered around the table, none of them ready to test whether the prison bars would still be there when they closed their eyes.

The gal in the red dress had come and gone, but Rogers was still in the back, nursing the same beer he’d had all night and deep in conversation with Barnes.

Dugan, watching them, sighed. “He’s the reason we’re alive, you know.”

Morita gave him an “Are you kidding me?” look. “Rogers? Yeah, I was kind of there for that.”

Dugan shook his head. “No, Barnes.”

Falsworth nodded. “He’s the one Rogers went in there to get.” Dernier did the same, saying something in French that Gabe responded to with a solemn expression.

“Can’t be,” Morita scoffed, taking another drink. “You don’t break into an enemy base just to get one guy.”

“Did you listen to the chatter when we got back?” Gabe asked. “No one, including the general, expected to see us.”

“I heard someone say that Rogers offered himself up for disciplinary action,” Falsworth added. “The general, unsurprisingly, declined the offer.”

“And when he was letting us out, he didn’t ask us a single question about enemy intel or guard placement,” Gabe continued.

Dugan nodded. “The only thing he cared about was knowing where Barnes was.”

Silence fell around the table as everyone’s eyes went to the two men still sitting at the back bar.

“So what we’re saying is that the guy we just promised to follow into battle went on a suicide run for one guy,” Morita said finally.

“And saved all of our asses in the process,” Dugan added.

Morita considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I can live with that.”

Falsworth did the same. “That kind of loyalty is a fine thing.”

Dernier said something again, Gabe leaning close while they held a murmured conversation in French. They both looked almost sad.

 “What did he say?” Morita asked, needing to know.

Gabe turned back to the rest of the group. “He asked what would happen to Rogers if Barnes died.”

The men looked at each other. “Let’s hope we never have to find out,” Falsworth said finally, speaking for all of them.

They all toasted to it.  

Oh god this person took my post and made it wonderfully sad. *sob*

(via theladymonsters)



Nope. But the real story is better. Bolding mine:

The late Ruth Thompson, a cell painter on “Snow White” who later became a multiplane scene planner, recalled: “We tried everything - airbrush, drybrush, even lipstick and rouge, which is perhaps the basis for the legend because we did, in fact, try it. But nothing worked.

The airbrush was difficult to control on such a small area; drybrush was too harsh; lipstick and rouge unwieldy and messy. Everything proved to be impractical and all hope seemed lost to give Snow White her little bit of color when the idea of using a dye was proposed.

Again Ms. Thompson: “Someone suggested a red dye because the blue day we added to give Donald Duck his distinctive sailor-blue never really could be washed off the cell without leaving a bluish stain where the paint had been applied.”

Ever since the mid 30’s when color became the norm for all the cartoons, not just the “Silly Symphonies,” all paints and inks were made at the studio. During this period as well cells were routinely reused for economic reasons, thus the need to wash them off. Apparently Donald’s special blue color was made with a dye added to the usual powdered pigments. “So we tried that.” As the women gathered around in what must have seemed just another dead-end effort, all eyes became fixed on the red dot which soon became a small glow with no perceptible edge. The hushed silence soon gave way to sighs of relief. The method had finally been found. Now the application.

Among the studio’s many inkers (an extremely demanding profession), was one young lady whose training and skill was unique: Helen Ogger. Just being an inker placed one within the elite confines of this most “holy of holies” area of the Nunnery, as the Ink and Paint Department was so called (Walt had strict and quite Victorian views that the sexes not mingle at the workplace, allowing no male personnel save the “gofer” boy and the paymaster “Mr.” Keener to enter this domain of mostly unmarried women ). But Helen was in addition a very fine cartoonist and one of the few women at Disney’s or anywhere else, who could animate.

Such a seemingly insignificant detail (as the cheek colors) might be thought not worthy of special mention (she, as well as the other inkers and painters, was given no screen credit). But when one adds up the number of footage required to be tinted freehand on each individual cell, the hours suddenly turn into weeks and months. In fact, such a treatment was never attempted again on such a scale and even today, the publicity stills from “Snow White,” most of which do not have the added blush, bear witness to how that little touch of extra care adds to the vitality we see on the screen.

The work was done on all close-ups, most medium shots, and even on some long shots. The Queen was also similarly tinted. Hundreds of hours were needed to complete this task, arduous, repetitive and, of course, hard on the eyes. Ultimately a handful of other girls were needed to assist Helen as the clocked ticked toward the deadline.

Helen had to place several cells together on an animation board, one atop the other, just like in the process of animation, in order to get the ‘registration’ right (the spot of red just right in relation to the preceding and following ones) - all of this without any guide. She would work out her own extremes and then ‘animate’ the blush in inbetweens. Her work deserves admiration and gratitude and it is unfortunate that her contribution has remained unknown and her anonymity unaltered during her lifetime. She was paid, as were the rest of the Inkers, $18 a week, which included a half-day on Saturday and the many, many hours of unpaid overtime “Snow White” would require - all given unstintingly, (by everyone involved, it should be added), to a project whose joy in participating was its own reward.

She eventually became head of Inking and Special Effects and even taught classes in animation at the studio. She left in 1941 (apparently part of the terrible strike that would leave the Disney Studio changed forever), taking her skills with her. She died in Glendale in February of 1980. Perhaps it is safe to say that her departure was critical to the abrupt demise of this now unique effect (it was also used, though on a much smaller scale in both “Pinocchio” and “Fantasia”). None of the other inkers or painters were animators and it is this fact, not just the factor of economy nor the changing tastes, which surely must be considered a reason why such details were never attempted again. The golden age was over.

Also, here’s an interesting article about female cel painters at Disney. I am now fascinated by the idea of writing something with a Depression-era cel painter as a protagonist.

(via lifeandliesoflialamora)




#Repost from @junglebarbiejulia FULL STORY. On the night of August 10 2013 I went to DC for my birthday to go to “Park Place”, an upscale restaurant. Upon my arrival at the entrance, at 11:30pm, before going to stand in the very long line I went to ask a patrolling officer where a nearby restroom was and before I could utter the words, I was met with an elbow and a right punch to my face. I was instantly knock out. My police report (which has changed numerous times this year) say I was arrest and processed at 1:50 am which is 2 hours that I was unaccounted for. I was left on the floor and when I woke up I was bleeding in multiple places with drag marks on my toes, my wrist were cut by the cuffs, the back of my head and arms were lumpy. The officers wouldn’t tell me why I was in jail and I overheard them saying what should we charge her with? We can’t say domestic, we don’t know who she is with. After pleading and begging to go to the hospital, I was met with more hostility before they finally let me go to the hospital the next days upon my release I had a rape kit done because I don’t know any thing that happened to me while knocked out and it came back positive for semen. They sent messages from my phone while I was detained. Internal Affairs came and confiscated my clothing (they never returned them) and they stole my rape kit. As of today I am facing charges for fighting a bouncer outside of the Lima Club, I was never there and its 5 minutes away from Park driving, also 5 officers that responded after I punched the manager to I was apparently Mike Tyson because when I woke up in jail I had the strength and gumption to fight some more officers in there. When the video was requested both clubs said they lost them. They follow me and stalk my home to this day, I have caught DC police trying to get in my home when they thought I had left, even the Baltimore cops help protect them, one in the rape department even asked me out on a date while my face was still battered. I have been trying to tell my story on IG only to find that police officers or this hired by then have been spamming my hashtag #justiceforjulia with blasphemous pictures. Please share her story.



This is the video from the stills posted!!!


Spread this around!!!

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18,370 plays
Imagine Dragons,




sighhhh feminism isn’t about hating all men and wanting to destroy them that’s just my own personal hobby

So in otherwords you are just a bitch? 

can somebody come pick up their crying child?

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let this sink in guys


let this sink in guys

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Asker Anonymous Asks:
Imagine Bucky soon after Steve finds him, getting his first real sleep in decades
shingekinoheartbreak shingekinoheartbreak Said:


Click & Drag to find out what your next bestseller will be!

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Greyhound being read a scary story


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me: hey i’m kinda good at this writing thing
*reads other people’s writing*
me: i am a literary potato


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*goes to bed at 2am instead of 5am* wow, my life is so in order right now.  i’m making such good decisions for myself and my body and my soul and im so in love with myself for doing this

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