#willed healing

[hotpinkrathian]

Thinking about, however sad it may be, if Aang had died earlier (shortly after Tenzin was born) Korra's team avatar could've been Lin, Kya, Tenzin, Bumi and Izumi.

I feel like the Gaang's kids would've made the perfect team avatar in another timeline

[mipexch]

the intricacies of machinery & vulnerability

[caycanteven]

Don Balsam ref I? I think?

Cant believe the mafia version got a “ref” before his actual one LOL.

Balsam has a powerful hand in the medical field in his part of the city and some parts outside it depending on alliances. If an unfamiliar subordinate ends up in one of "his" facilities, it's not uncommon to hear from a another boss or even a Don looking for "cures" for their family who got in a pretty bad tussle. Don Bal doesn't really show himself in public unless it's to visit his favorite diner—or his favorite waitress, and meet for business. People who know his practices well nicknamed him "The Doctor.”

[barrel-crow-n]

Thinking about how Kaz was so possessive and obsessive over Fifth Harbour because that's the place where he crawled out of the sea no longer as Kaz Rietveld, but as Kaz Brekker, and how that place was his start of darkness and the beginning of his hunt for revenge. But then he gifted Inej a ship there. He told her that her berth would also be free for when, if, she decided to come back, because she is under no obligation to. That's where he gave Inej her parents back. He made his place of start of darkness, to the place of his start back to light, and healing.

Thinking about how Kaz always fixates on the smallest details, and no matter how symbolic it is in an analysis, it's more symbolic to him as a person in the story.

[themarsbar]

Princess Wille 💖 for @toffeelemon

support your local swedish lesbians

[saltedbutter0]

solangelo is not "i can fix him." they are "tell me every single terrible thing you have done and let me love you anyway"

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

The racism my beloved Simon had to face….my baby. 🥺💔

Although painful to watch, it felt incredibly validating. It was so annoying watching some people say this show was “only about class” while dismissing the BS that Simon had to go through. The abuse was ten fold because he’s POC and S3 finally exposed that.

That being said, and on a more positive note, it was so incredibly sexy when Simon sang happy birthday to Wille in Spanish (he feels safe with him!) and when Wille admitted to fantasizing about stroking those beautiful curlssss (and then actually did it). 🥹❤️‍🩹

Wilmon forever. 🤎🤍

[perdamian]

thinking about the way i said, out loud, “they should cut the rat grinders heads off and throw them in the lava so it’ll be harder to revive them” mere moments before murph made the same comment… riz gukgak you will always be my most beloved maniac

[evie-doesnt-write]

“Wille has gone through so fucking much from his shitty, neglectful, psychologically abusive parents, the death of Erik, the betrayal of August, his and Simon’s relationship issues, his mother becoming sick, finding out Erik was a homophobe, and so fucking much more, and he’s just a kid whose only support are his one friend and his boyfriend who are facing their own problems and nobody can blame him for not knowing how to deal with his emotions and having breakdowns” and “Wille is extremely flawed (as are everyone in this show) and never having been taught how how to deal with his emotions and problems in a healthy way and having little to no support system doesn’t change or excuse the fact that he constantly projects onto Simon, has internalised the mindset that Simon’s problems are far lesser than him, often behaves inconsiderate towards him and doesn’t listen or listen to Simon when he tries to talk to him and these are things he will need to work on, especially if he wants to keep a relationship with Simon” are not mutually exclusive statements

[vladdyissues]

Still not over the fact that Vlad Masters—the dastardly evil murderous #1 primo villain in Danny Phantom—started crying when Danny said he wanted him to be his new dad.

[zukkaoru]

if you draw femzai without bandages i'm going put all of your internal organs through a paper shredder

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Cooking/Baking

day 5! @youngroyals-events

Kristina finds Wille in the kitchens. rating: G

read below the cut or on ao3.

“Shoot,” Wille mumbled, sweeping together the big pile of flour he’d accidentally dumped on the counter. Who would’ve thought using a scale would’ve been so complicated. He figured he had seen enough Instagram reels of people baking to be able to figure it out. That was maybe not totally the case. Not to mention it was the ass-crack of dawn and he still felt the dregs of sleep in his brain. 

“Wilhelm?”

He jumped, spilling even more flour. Turning around, he found his mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She wore a robe wrapped around her, her hair tied up. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her like this. To any outsider, it would’ve simply looked like a mother checking on her child, rather than the Queen of Sweden staring confusedly at the Crown Prince. 

“Mamma.”

“Why are you awake so early?” 

Thankfully, she sounded more puzzled than upset. He gestured awkwardly to the array of ingredients. “I wanted to– I’m trying to make pancakes.”

“Whatever for?” 

“Um,” Wille fumbled for the words. “I wanted to make breakfast for Simon. Usually when I stay at his, Linda will–” 

He cut himself off and looked down at the dusting of flour on his feet, across the light tile floor. How could he explain this to his mother without offending her? Wille knew, he knew that his family was different, that the Queen didn’t have time to make little breakfast spreads for her child and his boyfriend. (Although, in all fairness to Linda, she worked plenty and still made time, but that was besides the point.) He’d resented it when he was younger. It didn’t seem fair that everyone else seemed to have family dinners so often. The first few times he’d stayed for dinner at Simon’s, sitting around the table with everyone laughing and talking loudly, had nearly made Wille cry. The closest his family had ever come to that was when Erik was still alive and would occasionally come back from Hillerska to visit. As he got older, though, he grew used to it and tried to forgive his mother for all the missed bedtimes and sports games, the stinted dinners and tense breakfasts. Things had grown slightly warmer between them since they’d agreed he would officially step down on his 18th birthday. He didn’t want to do another thing to upset her, to make that rift grow even wider. 

“Would you like some help?” 

Wille’s head snapped back up. “What?” His mother had stepped further into the room and begun moving towards him. 

“Do you have a recipe, or have you just started mixing random ratios together?” 

He felt at a loss for words again, brain too busy trying to comprehend what was happening, so he simply shrugged.

“Let’s see, then.” She picked up his phone from the counter and dusted the coating of flour off the screen. 

For the next half-hour, Wille followed along as his mamma gave him gentle instructions and guided him through the recipe. He beat the eggs in a bowl while she measured and combined the dry ingredients. Later, she pulled blueberries from the fridge and arranged a handful into a smiley face on top of one of the cooking pancakes. Wille just watched on in a daze, feeling a laugh bubble up at the absurdity when he saw Kristina smile down at the silly little smiley-face pancake. He tried to flip one of the pancakes by tossing it in the air and she laughed – laughed – when he missed and it fell face down on the floor. She helped him arrange the food onto a platter and then waved him off. 

“I’ll clean this up,” she said. “You go on.” 

Wille looked at his mom, at the brush of flour on her cheek and the few strands of hair that had come loose from her bun. He rushed forward and pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her neck. 

“Oh, gubben,” she whispered, rubbing his back. 

He mumbled a watery, “Thank you,” and hugged her tighter. 

“You’re very welcome.” 

Stepping back, he wiped at his face and sniffled then nodded. She smiled up at him and Wille felt that rift grow a little smaller. 

Before he stepped out the door with his tray of breakfast, he turned back. “I love you, mamma.”

“I love you, too, älskling. Now, go before they get cold.”

[shalomniscient]

sevchino req!!! wanna see protective arle to the children please,,,,,,father in action raahhhh

you and me BOTH anon 🥺🥺🥺 ......................

protective || sevchino

cw. none (?)

notes. yeah i like bullying pantalone (and not in a fun way like a bully rahu). sue me. also super self indulgent with no consistent pov dshjjdfhk

"My, my. What's a little girl like you doing in a place like this, hm?"

Estelle hugs the little bear closer to her chest. Her father had told her to stay in the office, but she was taking so long, and it was starting to get lonely...

She lifts her eyes up from the ground to look at the man crouched before her. He has long, dark hair that reminds her of her father's with how soft it looks. He has a polite smile on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. And his eyes—something about them made her nervous.

"I'm here with my father," she answers quietly, squeezing her toy. "I was supposed to stay in the office, but..."

The man clicks his tongue. "Tsk. Poor little thing, did your father leave you behind?"

Estelle bites her lip. Should she answer him? Father always told her not to speak with strangers, but it's been so long, and she wants to go home. She knows she'd begged her father to let her tag along, but now, all she wants to do is go home to her mother and Noé.

So she nods, looking back down at the ground. The man sighs, and rises back to his full height. He's tall, towering over her, and the way the lights backlight his form makes Estelle reflexively take a step back. He looks down at her down the bridge of his nose, the silver rim of his glasses glinting.

"Then how about I help you find her, hm?" he asks. "I think I know exactly who your father is."

Despite her apprehension, Estelle brightens. "Really?"

"Really," he nods. His white cloak parts, and he extends a gloved hand to her. But before he can take her smaller hand in his own, an arc of pure, blistering flame snakes around the girls feet, creating a protective, blazing wall. But around the girl, the fires cool, warm and comforting instead of threatening.

Footsteps echo like thunder down the hall, and the man tucks his hand back into his cloak, those dangerous eyes turning sharp, and a venomous grin creeping onto his face.

"We meet again, Knave," he sneers. Estelle turns, and standing behind her, expression twisted into a level of fury she's never seen before, is her father. A blood-red wing pulses over her left shoulder, flickering and shifting in the light. In her father's hand is a mean-looking red scythe, radiating a furious, hungry aura.

"Stay away from my daughter, Regrator," Arlecchino snarls, practically vibrating with rage. She keeps her eyes trained on the other Harbinger as she kneels down, and Estelle runs into her waiting arm. Pantalone watches it all with a deceptively placid smile.

"You know," he hums, "she has her eyes."

Arlecchino glares at him with enough fury to kill a normal man. But as much as she loathes the waste of breath before her, he is still a Harbinger, and Harbingers have always been far from normal.

"Do not speak of my wife," she says lowly, dangerously, cradling Estelle against her chest. Estelle tucks her head beneath her father's chin, one small hand winding tight in her father's jacket and the other clutching her bear plushie. The little thing's fur is slightly singed. Then, her father's gaze shifts from the man and to her, and her eyes soften. "Are you alright, starshine?"

Estelle nods, snuggling closer against her father's warmth. Arlecchino presses a soft kiss to her forehead, then turns back to Pantalone. She dispels her scythe, but it does not make her any less deadly. She considers, briefly, ripping the man before her to shreds; but Estelle takes priority, and she'd hate for her daughter to have to witness such violence, so she turns on her heel and walks away instead.

She will ensure the Regrator understands that her family is off limits in other ways.

[ebonyfirewolf]

Home was never Avalaon. It was Merlin. - Chapter 3 - TheDarkSeaofSecrets - Merlin (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Merlin had never been alone. Not quite. Not with Leon by his side but then....Leon leaves him too and he's all alone in the world until some blond-haired blue-eyed ass gets up him about smoking. Turns out Arthur's still a stubborn prat also turns out. He doesn't know who Merlin is or that He's THE King Arthur, maybe Merlin can do things differently this time. The one thing Arthur does know is that Merlin is broken in more ways than one, and he wants to try and fix him.

[hamburgrr]

Fuck it. If no one’s gonna draw him fat then I’m gonna have to

[makeuphall]