Ace People Are Queer As Hell And Must Always Be Welcome In The Community.

Aragorn and Thranduil meeting each other [Part II]

Aragorn: *whispering to Legolas* Whats your fathers NAME???

Legolas: wai-what? you dont know-

Thranduil who has just seen his son : Legolas, Ion-nin! It has been long...

Thranduil hugging Legolas: *whispering in his ear* WHAT IS YOUR FRIENDS NAME????

Legolas:*tries not crack up*

worship me, ya’ll

if you ever seen someone with "any pronouns" in their bio, you might think that means they go by any pronouns, but you're wrong!! that actually means that they're god

NYC Data Stories: Allyship

I just realized...

T’Challa’s protection spell is in the shape of his panther suit even when he is Star Lord....

Plus, comic accurate headwings for Thor....

NOOOO

STOP

NO.

“The sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price we pay to have had them in our lives.” – Rob Liano

MCU + SIBLINGS

Diya Circle Format

                                  🪔      🪔

                         🪔                         🪔

                   🪔                                    🪔

                 🪔                                         🪔

                🪔                                          🪔

                       🪔                              🪔

                                  🪔        🪔

Ok I never noticed that they were holding hands this entire time-

I stan one (1)  power couple-

if it was GUARANTEED that u would survive would u rather

A. explore a black hole

B. explore the entire ocean 

THIS. OMFG. GEM. VIBRANIUM.

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND- 

I AM NOT OK.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Black Panther (2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shuri & T'Chaka (Marvel), Shuri & Ramonda Summary:

Shuri skids to a stop in front of the bedroom’s door, suddenly hesitant to enter. A terrible revelation lies behind the wooden panel, and she doesn’t think she’s ready to hear it. Not now. Not ever.

She bends slightly and presses her ear against the door, palms leaning flat against the carved patterns. The wood is thick, but not thick enough to conceal her mother’s sobs. They echo faintly in the hallway, each cry breaking Shuri’s heart bit by bit.

She has never seen or heard her Mama cry.

Dread twisting her guts, she pushes the door open with a shaking hand. Please, Bast, please, she prays fervently. She doesn’t articulate what exactly she fears, despite it weighing on her chest like a boulder, but she knows that Bast can read her heart.