#i can't draw hair okay

[fearandhatred]

mesopotamia crowley mesopotamia crowley mesopotamia crowley

the fic post

[majubengel]

Parents and children~

extra:

[yeisiko]

All the flowers turn to look at you

[sioneve]

Today marks the 10th anniversary of Nicomaki duet song "ずるいよMagnetic today" release! 🩷❤️

At this point I treat the song’s release date like nicomaki couple anniversary 💀 i mean!! a duet song!! WITH VERY PERSONALIZED LYRICS ABOUT THEM TOO….. pls let me have a long life so i can make it every year 😇🙏

the last time i made anniversary art for zurui yo magnetic today was in 2019! It’s getting the biggest number i’ve ever posted on tumblr lol (but that is definitely cuz of the wild almost-to-kiss-tension-pose lol)

enjoy the meal for every nkmk shipper if you’re still breathing?? nicomaki will be forever my top, it surpasses all my ships across the universe. I love you both my dumbass magnet 🩷❤️

imagine applying physics reference to your art

process (lots of skipped parts i forgot to save)

[bread-is-my-life]

@tekitothemagpie I hope you will have a great day and everything will be awesome!!! I don't have any finished drawings rn so have those doodles lol xD ILY DUDE PLS GO HAVE A BREAK :3

[keeps-ache]

happy pride !! <3

[chaoticvictorianspirit]

here have a little golgotha crowley this fine afternoon

[omaano]

“Hello then, to an Upright cousin.” The child (...) grabs his jacket boldly, pointing back to the door through which Mird brought it. “Is what you seek through there?” “Eh,” it grunts in frustration, waving even more vigorously through the door.

Mereel & Family Booksellers chapter 2 by @sidhebeingbrand  and @toughbreaks

Just a cleaned up sketch WIP for now, because I don't deal too well with green stuff, and this one would require quite a bit - but I'd been itching to take a crack at this scene for a while now, so here I am! I'm willing to trade this drawing (made for the "fantasy" square of my @bobadinweek AU bingo card, because fae children count there, right?) for the other one made for this very same story on the technicality that Jaster actually very much lives in this one. Technically speaking. I tried my best!

[maahtigor]

(continuation of last post? sort of???)

I also found some random scrap paper and decided to draw on it with that ballpoint pen too 😁😁😁🎉 (lowkey crappy asf but I wanna share it with y'all)

Highlights of some doodles on the back/parts I really liked:

and of course marmelade doodles because she follows me on every paper i touch

[griseldabanks]

For the Let Me Count the Ways ask game, would you do 31. "I wish..." for Legolas and Gimli, please?

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

The westering sun glimmered through the golden leaves of Caras Galadhon, casting its dappled light upon the grass. The breeze that filtered through the branches blew in from the south, carrying with it the first fresh hints of spring. The song of water splashing from beautiful fountains and trickling through a thousand tiny streams between the great roots of the mallorn trees echoed through the quiet evening air.

Blind to these beauties, Legolas passed like a shadow between the trees, head bowed, eyes upon his feet. At any other time, he would have been overjoyed to see this glorious city with his own eyes, to walk its paths and breathe in the scents of niphredil and elanor.

Yet there was a heaviness in the air, a weight in his chest that would not abate, and every sight and sound of beauty only pierced him deeper. The others spoke of their loss—Sam had even composed a poem—but Legolas found that he could not. Something stopped his lips, a sorrow and a fear that defied all speech. He could not even translate the Elven songs he heard for the others.

He had not wandered far when he became aware of a new scent, one that brought him up short. Smoke.

For a moment, he saw a fearsome being of smoke and flame, rising from the shadows to tower above the trees...but no. No, this was a small fire of underbrush and twigs—innocuous, if unexpected.

Stepping around the trunk of a large tree, Legolas found the source of the smoke in a small fire, built on the ground in the tree's shadow. All vegetation had been carefully scraped away in a circle around the fire.

Gimli sat tending the fire, bareheaded and with only a small axe hanging from his belt. Reddish hair spilled over his shoulders in braids, freed from the bands that normally held the braids together at the nape of his neck. He sat silently as Legolas watched, staring unblinking into the flames.

Legolas finally spoke when Gimli merely continued to sit there, unmoving. “If you are cold, would it not be wiser to ask for more blankets?”

With a start, Gimli turned and looked up at him.

“Such a small fire cannot bring much warmth,” Legolas continued. But then, he was continually surprised by what his mortal companions considered to be comfortable. Some of them chose to inhale smoke, yet complained when the smoke from their cookfire blew into their eyes. The halflings walked about barefoot in all weather, yet shivered and complained about the cold when it snowed. Perhaps this small of a fire was adequate for a Dwarf.

“I do not tend this fire for warmth, Master Elf,” Gimli grunted. “But fear not. I will see that the flames do not burn any of your precious trees.”

“I did not insinuate that—“ Legolas bit his tongue and took a deep breath. Now was not the time. Striving to keep his tone more neutral, he began again. “Then why do you tend this fire, Master Dwarf?”

Gimli shifted a little so his back was turned to Legolas, an obvious dismissal. “It is a Dwarven custom,” he said stiffly. “I would not expect you to understand.”

For a moment, Legolas thought of turning on his heel and leaving Gimli to whatever it was that had drawn him away from the others. After all, he clearly did not want Legolas there.

And yet...Legolas had just come from the others. They all rested, finding solace for their griefs and comfort for their weariness. Legolas had tried to rest. He had tried to seek out his own people and the comfort of their familiar customs. He had tried wandering alone.

The ache remained.

“No,” he admitted in a soft voice. “I do not understand. But I should like to learn.” He strode closer, sitting with his legs folded underneath him, on the other side of the little fire. “May I watch?”

Gimli's brows bristled, his eyes glinting with the reflection of the flames. But after a long moment of glaring through the heat shimmers, he merely grunted, “Do as you please.”

When he returned his attention to the fire, the anger seeped out of his face, leaving behind nothing but a weary sadness. He sat still for a moment, then with a sigh, he reached into his boot and pulled out a small, sharp knife that he held in one hand. With the other hand, he pulled one of his reddish braids over his shoulder.

A flash of steel, and the braid lay in the palm of his rough hand. Closing his eyes, Gimli murmured, “Balin.” Then he dropped the length of hair into his little fire. The flames crackled hungrily about it, devouring the hair in seconds and adding to the smoke curling into the air above their heads.

Gimli selected another braid, a narrower one just over his temple. One stroke of the blade, and it joined the first, cast into the fire. “Ori.”

As Gimli continued, Legolas realized he was reciting the names of the fallen Dwarves they had found in Moria. His kin...his friends. Legolas remembered how Gimli had boasted of the comforts they would enjoy when they reached the underground city. Easily he recalled the cry of anguish from Gimli when they found Balin's tomb at last.

Again and again, Gimli cut the long braids from his head and cast them into the flames. So many had fallen. So many lives lost to darkness and fear and cruel death. And then, with one final slice, Gimli tossed the thickest braid yet into the fire and sighed, “Gandalf.”

The ache rose up in Legolas' chest, growing tighter and tighter, more painful than Legolas thought he could stand. His hand fell to his belt and pulled out his own knife, a long, slender blade with an ivory hilt. Then, reaching up to the narrow braid that hung behind his ear, he sliced through the strand of hair.

There it lay, pale in the palm of his hand, so different from the thick reddish tresses Gimli had cut. “Mithrandir,” he murmured, then tossed it into the flames.

The fire roared up around it just as it had with Gimli's braids, turning it to ash within seconds. The fire knew no difference between Elf and Dwarf.

And as the scent of his own burning hair reached his nostrils, Legolas felt the ache begin to recede as if the flames consumed his pain as well. Perhaps not even his grief could withstand the fire.

Together, they sat staring at the heart of the fire, where together the remains of their hair crumbled away into ash. An Elf and a Dwarf, sitting in complete silence under the boughs of a tree, watching as their tiny fire burnt away to nothing.

By the time the last embers winked out, night had fallen upon Caras Galadhon. Now starlight and moonlight streamed through the branches of the trees, and a chill hung in the air that made Legolas even more aware of the absence of the fire's warmth. But still he waited, watching Gimli in silence.

At last, Gimli rose, stooping to make sure the fire was fully extinguished and then brushing off his hands. Legolas slowly got to his feet as well, unsure whether he should speak or not.

“Why?” Gimli's voice was hoarse, and full of an emotion Legolas could not decipher. He did not look up. “Why not...sing your songs? As the rest of your people do?”

“Because the songs bring me no comfort.”

Gimli did look up at him then, his eyes keen even in the darkness. But of course, he was a Dwarf. “And so you sought out me, of all people, for comfort?” Skepticism dripped from every word.

“Not...I did not expect....” Legolas fumbled over his words, and he did not know why. He felt none of the anger or outrage he might have, once. It seemed to have burnt away in the fire as well. “I...I wish....”

He hesitated. He did not know how Gimli would react to the thoughts slowly solidifying in his mind, and suddenly Legolas realized he wanted to avoid angering the Dwarf. Not out of fear or a simple desire to keep the peace, but...out of respect. Gimli had shared with him a small piece of his grief, and quarreling in this moment felt the same as if Legolas had stamped out Gimli's fire with his foot.

“Yes?” Gimli asked, crossing his arms. “What do you wish?”

“I wish I could have seen Khazad-dûm in the days of its glory,” Legolas said in a rush, stumbling slightly over sounds so unfamiliar to his tongue. “I wish I could have seen those great halls filled not with darkness, but with light and life and...everything else you spoke of. Not overrun with Orcs and...other evils.”

Gimli shuddered. “Let us not speak of that.”

Fingers of fear clenched around Legolas' own heart as his thoughts strayed to the end of their journey through Moria. “Then let us speak of wonder and beauty,” he murmured. “Will you not tell me of the days when mithril was mined, or the beauties that were wrought from it? Or perhaps you could tell me of your kin, if you would.”

Gimli cocked his head to one side, looking Legolas up and down as if seeing him for the first time. “Why would you want to hear about that?”

“There is much I do not know about this world.” He drew a deep breath. “And much I was told that I begin to think was wrong. Or at the very least, not the entire truth.” He met Gimli's eyes unwaveringly. “Long has there been strife between our peoples, Master Dwarf. But it need not be so between us. Mithrandir would not wish it so.”

Bowing his head in sorrow, Gimli murmured, “No, he would not.” When he looked up at Legolas again, a small smile twitched underneath his beard. “And it's Gimli, lad. No need to be formal.”

Legolas blinked in surprise. Never before had he been called 'lad' by someone a mere fraction of his own age. Recalling his manners, he bowed deeply, hand upon his heart. “Very well, Gimli.”

“So, you wish to hear about mithril, do you?” Gimli asked, as they turned to leave the little clearing. “I never saw Moria while the mines were in use, but my father told me the tale of when it was first discovered....”

They walked side-by-side through the trees in the starlight, Legolas shortening his stride to match Gimli's as they spoke of days long past. The silvery rays of the moon illuminated shorn locks on each of their heads, the fraying ends of braids in red and gold blowing free in the wind.

A strange sight to others, but to those two, it brought peace.

[sysig]

Looking his very best, as much as he can anyhow (Patreon)

[thatstupidlozfanacrossthestreet2]

FELLAS. GUYS. GALS AND PALS. I FINALLY DID IT. A FULL BODY DRAWING OF MY VERSION OF CADENCE

her

literally her

i love her sm you have no idea

i literally just got done practicing drawing MEN and i decided 'y'know what. let's draw cadence!!' so i did and it turned out great actually

edit - click ont the photo for better quality bc i dont draw blurry i swear T-T

(i dont have emoji keyboard so you have to deal with emoticons im sorry)

[nervouswreckhere]

hi, long time no see

[rogue-pierogi]

I wanna redesign my oc Mark but HIS FUCKING HAIR. HIS SHITTY ASS HAIR.

[nightfal1n]

Pretty sure I used to be so normal about Narumi until this week's B-side last two panels

[beastblade69]

impulsively dyed my hair yesterday, ran out of bleach completely, but good 4 me that it didn't run out halfway through my head. so I was lucky to bleach my hair completely. originally I wanted a green + pink combo cuz I'M MADLY IN LOVE W THIS COLOUR COMBINATION, but the base colour ended up being too pink-ish, so I decided not to put green on it. and I now realize that green & pink in the technique I did this time wouldn't work out properly. still tho love the result