#he's trying SO hard

[takethispotion]

Harry here is such a bishonen, i can't even...

Next page is here

The bicep girth.

Tbh this wasn't meant to be a comic... i just wanted to draw a "healthy" Harry or even AuSwap!Harry - but he came out like he's out of shower... and i wanted to draw Kim getting all over his head bc of him for a change.

I imagine that Kim would slowly fall for Harry with time, as Harry gets his life together bit by bit. And would try to suppress it so much :"")

...Idk if i draw something more to that, we will see ><

I definitely want to paint BISHONEN Harry with watercolors <3

[threadroseart]

I love all of the "Essek respectfully inspects Ashton's brain" takes. But I would like to offer an alternative.

"Morally dubious disaster wizards trying their best when presented with temptation."

[spookytoziers]

my favourite genre of glenn howerton pics is these carpet ones because why does he look like he has the whole empire state building shoved up his ass and he's trying to play it cool

[ace-lemonade]

the way he slides down the wall perfectly still-

[thesummerestsolstice]

Elrond was never really Noldor. That was a given. Earendil was half-human and half-Vanyar for all intents and purposes, and Elwing? Please. She barely tolerated the Gondolindrim as it was. And it's not like Elrond looked Noldor– no, his face might as well have been carved in likeness of Luthien. In any case, as the other Noldor were quick to stress, the Feanorians hardly counted as kin to them, anymore. The kinslayers had their own strange ways, and neither their culture nor their actions could be taken as truly Noldor.

Elrond wasn't really Sindar, either. Sindar didn't speak with that accent, or do their hair like that, or dress that way. There were things that Sindar grew up knowing; rites of passage, dances, history. And the longer Elrond spent around the Sindar, the more it became clear that he simply wasn't one of them. And if they sometimes looked nervous or uncomfortable around him, if they avoided his songs or cringed at his swordsmanship. Well. Who could blame them?

It doesn't help that he isn't like the elves; that he needs more sleep and more food, that he gets ill, has to shave. It doesn't help that Elros spends almost all his time with the humans, makes it clear he isn't one of the elves and doesn't care what they think of him. It doesn't help that some of the strange things Elrond does– things that no elf or man could– lead the Maiar to fawn over him, to teach him how to harness his power. He's happy for it until he realizes that it's started to make some of the elves scared of him.

Things only start to get better when he drops any pretense of being Sindar or Noldor, to having a claim to any particular heritage. To learn a new accent that reveals nothing, to cut his hair short enough that he can't do the braids he's put in all his life, to dress like the elves around him. To bend his form into something elvish. Something more familiar.

It doesn't feel good, or honest, and it doesn't really bring him acceptance either. It's still better than the alternative

(This is kind of the dark counterpart to another one of my Elrond posts. Normally I think the elves are less cruel and more curious about Elrond's general incomprehensibility, but this feels like a very real possibility. There's a lot of pain there.)

[arthursfuckinghat]

"I guess he thinks he's the king around here.."

[probssomethingorother]

a man on a mission

source vids [x] & [x]

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Have more of LLH's POV from my MLC longfic, in which LLH panics about what's wrong with a-Fei, and DFS resorts to desperate measures to reassure him.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

His meridians were unharmed. But his qi–

The great, howling tempest of level eight Beifeng Baiyang had been pinioned, reduced to a sluggish draft.

“How?” Li Lianhua managed, gripping a-Fei’s wrist as though the force could rile it up to its former glory.

A-Fei shook his head and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” Li Lianhua yelled. “You–a-Fei, this shouldn’t be possible! Not with the rate your qi replenishes. What did you do?”

A-Fei’s jaw clenched and he pulled his hand free. “What I had to.”

Li Lianhua gripped the bedding, his mind reeling. Even when he’d blocked a-Fei’s meridians with asura grass, a-Fei had meditated daily, refusing to let his qi become depleted even when he couldn’t possibly use it. And now A-Fei was too depleted to use qinggong. Or to defend himself. What could have possessed him to–

Oh. Oh Gods, no. “A-Fei,” Li Lianhua said, trying to force his voice to be steady, “tell me this isn’t from healing me. Tell me this isn’t from that procedure that you promised was safe for both of you.”

“It’s not from the procedure,” a-Fei said, still staring straight ahead and refusing to look at him.

“He’s telling the truth,” Xiaobao interrupted. “The procedure really is safe. There were just a lot of emergencies today that needed extra qi to address! And he brought you up a mountain with qinggong. Of course he’s running a little low.”

Li Lianhua couldn’t stop the almost hysterical laugh that burst free. “A little low? Having only ten percent of his neili left is not a little!”

“Wh-what?” Xiaobao asked, more breath than sound.

A-Fei’s arm twitched and his hand tightened around his dao.

 So a-Fei had lied to Xiaobao about how dangerous it was. “That’s it. You can forget about trying it again.”

“Xiaohua’er!” Xiaobao cried.

A-Fei whipped around to face him. “It wasn’t the procedure, Xiangyi. I give you my word.”

“Then what else was it, a-Fei? Unless you spent the last three months single-handedly fighting the entire jianghu or living off qi alone? Because nothing else makes sense.” 

A-Fei stared at him, unmoving, his too-regular breaths the only evidence of whatever war he waged with himself. At last, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the movement, and closed his eyes. “I wasn’t fighting the jianghu,” he said quietly, as though there were something wrong with that.

Li Lianhua let a-Fei’s answer unravel and re-knit itself in his mind, then took a moment to breathe until the urge to pick up a-Fei’s dao and hit him in the head with it had passed. “I see. And why, exactly, did the great Di-mengzhu decide to forgo sleeping and try to live off qi alone? Is this some new strategy to reach a hitherto unknown ninth level of Beifeng Baiyang?” 

For a moment, a-Fei was so still Li Lianhua thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he squared his shoulders, opened his eyes, and stared straight into Li Lianhua’s. “I was looking for you,” he said, each word a promise.

Li Lianhua closed his eyes to force back yet more tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The letter should have prevented this. A-Fei was supposed to accept Li Xiangyi’s death and his own martial arts supremacy, and fight Xiaobao when he found himself missing their rivalry. Instead, a-Fei had run himself into the ground, relinquished the strength he had tried so hard to gain, all to chase after a ghost. A ghost who had selfishly abandoned him, who was harming him still by his inability to stay gone, hurting him just as much as if he had poisoned him with Bicha. “What were you thinking?” he asked, losing the battle against the ocean of tears as they crashed against his lashes.

There was a quiet rustle of clothes and sheets. Then warm, callused fingers cradled his face as though he mattered, with a hesitance and gentleness that spoke a language he didn’t want to understand. “My qi is replaceable,” a-Fei said, his thumb caressing Li Lianhua’s cheekbone with a touch too feather-light to wipe the tears away, succeeding only in brushing a faint wet streak from his nose to his ear. “You are not.” 

 Li Lianhua swallowed and shook his head, the words stabbing him harder than a-Fei’s dao ever could. A selfish part of him wished it were true, that a-Fei truly wanted him, not the ghost of Li Xiangyi a-Fei saw when he looked at him. But as much as it hurt to hear, as much as he hurt a-Fei by not making him face the truth, as much as he ought to brush off the declaration the way a-Fei had brushed off the tears, to say he was being ridiculous, sentimental, absurd, he couldn’t. Not when he knew what it had cost a-Fei to say that out loud, and with an audience: a sacrifice almost as great as the wangchuan flower had been. He couldn’t throw this gift away. Not now, at least. 

They’d discuss a-Fei’s destroying himself for a dead man later.

[zetterbabe]

05.24.24

[estro-gem]

No brain

What's between those ears~🎶

It's a doodle of our boi, Kaufmo :3

But also, this is kinda how I feel after writing half a story, only to realize that I actually want it from someone else's perspective and I need to rewrite EVERYTHING ALL OVER AGAIN💀

[laputaskies]

[shaniacsboogara]

zach stone trying so desperately to be famous to get the validation he craves, but in the process hurting the people who care about him the most, people who don't care whether or not he's famous.

zach stone nearly ruining his relationship with his parents, his brother, his best friend, and the girl he's in love with because he wants to make them proud of him.

zach constantly trying to find different ways to make himself matter to the most people possible. he needs to be famous because then he'll be important.

[whittywhitty]

All-Father!Kratos headcanons because im obsessed.

* kratos attempts to be everywhere at once, constantly trying to broker peace independently. he feels as if he's doing a terrible job at being a mediator for fair discussion when in reality he's trying his best.

* kratos travels around the nine realms DAILY. it's to the point he has a home or a place of rest in each place.

* he once passed out from exhaustion because he's not used to talking to that many people, considering it's been YEARS since he was a spartan general leading thousands. thrúd had to drag him to his bed because she's the only one strong enough to even move him.

* tyr gifted kratos the bifröst eyes after seeing how much effort he's putting into healing the realms. he knew kratos from his youthful days of anger, but seeing him grow? it warranted something more meaningful. kratos accepted the gift. tyr also did the process of inserting the eyes. kratos had to get hammered.

* kratos is a caring parent to huginn and muninn. he cares a great deal about his animals and makes sure they're all fed. he hopes his example spreads to others (COUGH, RAIDERS)

* kratos does have a primary home. it's located in the realm between realms (not sindri's house) - it has a bedroom, kitchen and study but the real kicker is that there's a mini interpretation of the yggdrasil tree in a seperate room, in which there are doors to the each of the nine realms. kratos uses his new bifröst eyes to travel with these rooms.

* kratos has a golden shoulder guard that he slots mimir in during diplomatic meetings. its removed when kratos knows he is going to battle and is primarily used for special occasions.

* like most kind gods, kratos tries to read every prayer and see every offering addressed to him. he attempts to make such prayer come true via blessing, but he isn't used to turing the tides to favour when it comes to peace. he does try, however.

* kratos with glasses? more likely than you think.

* when atreus returns, he sees the progress his father has made and can't help but shed a tear.

* speaking of atreus, kratos always has a room for atreus in his multiple makeshift homes. he misses his little boy :-(

[applbottmjeens]

Sleepover (again)

ft. @liamthemailman's Lt. Ace

in which a pregnant Anna gets her hair braided while dishing more hot goss with her buddy.

(he is very focused on getting this braid right!!)

[lucy-moderatz]

[dangerousstrawberrypie]

Here in the year of our Cat 2023, this scene is still one of the best things to come out of cartoon cinema. I will never be over someone calling Soundwave an uncharismatic boor.