let me cry somewhere

4

In which little Peggy Carter’s dreams to be a knight rescuing princesses might have become reality. In a way.

(Note: I never imagined Ana Jarvis to be white and I can’t bring myself to start drawing her any different now. So yes, this is Ana.)

maj-cutiepatootie  asked:

me putting two and two together and realizing the 'jaeger' in ur url is from that one weird lookin dude with the messed up face from that fuckin uhhh titan attack or whatever lmao

UM. IM SORRY. WHAT DID U JUST SAY 

Originally posted by spicy-chicken-nuggets

*first of all… 

“titan attack”

Originally posted by levi-ackerman-chan

*second of all… 

MAJ. R U TRYNA FIGHT ME RN BC THATS MY MUHH FUCKEN HUSBAND UR TALKIN BOUT. HIS FACE IS THAT OF AN ANGEL’S. HE FELL FROM HEAVEN AND LANDED SMACK DAB ON MY WEE LIL’ HEART AND NOW LIVES THERE FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER

Originally posted by dithe-r

HE IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING TO HAVE EVER GRACED THIS EARTH. HE IS MY HUSBAND AND THATS WHY ITS JAIMEEJAEGER BC I TOOK HIS LAST NAME BC MARRIAGE, YOU SEE. 
SO HE DOES THIS THING I LIKE TO CALL “wow u hot as fucc” (example placed below) 

Originally posted by snuuie

perfection 

*third of all…

i will fight u 

The thing that upsets me most about the church is how my desire to be a mother was encouraged from an incredibly young age, but now that my kids are likely to have two moms I’m somehow supposed to abandon that dream. I was taught that this is my highest calling, the only way to be exalted and live with God again in the highest degree of the celestial kingdom, but woops, turns out families are only for straight people. I want a family! I want to raise intelligent, brave, kind children! I want to grow closer to God with my future probably-wife. I want to learn love and charity and forgiveness and grace with her. And I hate that I learned to want this in a church that would excommunicate me for making it happen.

anonymous asked:

tokoyami as a parent

This speaks to me on a Spiritual Level™ Let me go cry somewhere now

~

| Tokoyami Fumikage

• As a father, many would see him as a appearingly cool dad, but his kids know what kind of medieval nerd he is. They’ve see his collection of swords, cloaks, and magic books that would make anyone who wasn’t related to him embarrassed. To add onto that, his phrases of “A twisted garden”, “The darkness calls”, “The forbidden fruit”, “What a mad world this truly is.” and other catchphrases leave his kids embarrassed but happy that their father is so unique.

• He spends time with his children and encourage​s them to go after what they want. He will never make fun or tease his children about their interest or make them feel embarrassed for liking a certain thing or fandom - even if he doesn’t understand it he will support his children and their interest, as well as defend them when needed. Tokoyami will support his kids and their interest 1000%.

• When they were toddlers and young children he would coo at them to help them fall asleep when he held them against his chest. He and Dark Shadow will surround them in the darkness and show them that there aren’t any monsters hiding since their father and his quirk will protect them. They’ll have a few memories of his bird like cooing as they slept on him when they were growing up.

• Tokoyami may not be a man of many words, choosing to remain silent when around those who aren’t close friends or family but around his children he opens up but still remains stern. He’s honest with them and teaches them values that will be appreciated if they desired to become a hero themselves. Honesty and cooperation as well as understanding is what he will each them when it comes to befriending others.

• If they have a quirk exactly or similar to his he will comfort them and talk to them if he sees his children becoming distraught over not being able to control of it. When he teaches them how to fight, he teaches them how to strategize, what they did good or their mistakes but he tells them good job. He goes easy on them but leaves enough of a challenge for them. Sometimes he brings in Katsuki, they were on neutral good terms, and forces his kids to strategize and cooperate as well as improve their strength.

• Brutal honesty and a few eccentric words are traits his children have learned from and something his partner teases him for. Sometimes he’ll chuckle and smile when his kids decide to become melodramatic and say one of his famous catch phrases during his teenage years that his partner told them about. They’ve actually teased their father when they saw his Yuuei dorm room photos and the things he liked and he became embarrassed about until they apologized.

• His polite attitude is another thing his kids have adopted from him as well as his focused and straight to the point traits. Tokoyami didn’t think that would happen but looking back on his interactions with others outside their family and close friends groups he should’ve expected for it. Though that quickly stops the moment he starts to talk to them and starts to speak “The Forbidden fruit of knowledge” which becomes an inside joke when they spend time together in the family library that was the recreation room.

• No one, not even his partner would know this, but he will have a hidden book in a secret hiding place of the bedroom where he has kept a book of his relationship of him and his partner with precious mementos and writings. In this books, it also contains his childrens’ lives when they were born until they themselves are married with their own kids. He’s kept a history of them and a journal that he passes on to his own children, hoping that they will continue to keep these records. Fumikage loves his partner, his children and his family. This is the proof.

I feel like shit right now. My first day doing an actual job and I’m making it sound like I’m using my health as an excuse. I just want to scream from the rooftops that simply saying I won’t let my anxiety or epilepsy ain’t gonna control isn’t going to magically cure me. It does not work like that

6

It’s like watching porn.

2

“You’ll regret this.”

“Will I.”

“I’ll make certain of it.”

“Oh?” 

“I’m going to wear it,” Michael says. “All the time. The one with the ears, even if we’re smiting cities or destroying temples or anything. I’ll be a lion still, even without my mane.”

Of Brushes and Swords by @suntosirius and @drinkbloodlikewine :)

AKA Michael takes really bad to a haircut but honors his threats because revenge is sweet. I doubt Gabriel was overly happy about it. (Bet Uriel was though.)

My parents are seriously thinking of taking Fennel away and it’s hard for me to think of or draw anything else..

I’m so sorry, baby girl

Ante Meridiem (Vernon)

type: oneshot

genre: crack/fluff

synopsis: You’re not moving and neither is Hansol

a/n: Hope you like this one!! ^^

7:31 a.m.

You squint. Why is it so bright?

Something warm shifts next to you. You stop for a second, slightly panicked, before remembering you slept over at his place. Taking note of the messy bedroom (there’s like clothing everywhere) and the vague sound of a muffled alarm, you decide it’s probably early in the morning. With an empty sigh, you roll over, burying yourself in the covers. 

Your elbow meets someone’s face. You hear the person next to you groan. “Sorry,” you mumble. 


8:00 a.m.

“–ey.”

You shift. Did someone say something?

“What time is it?” The voice vibrates through your body, low and rough with sleep. 

“Too early.”

“Okay.”


8:15 a.m.

“Babe.”

“Stop talking to me.” You can’t describe the ridiculous amount of comfort and warmth you’re feeling in your current position and it makes you want to cry. “Let me sleep, please.”

Somewhere outside, a bird trills a short tune. 

You feel a hand slide over your waist. The heat burns through the blanket and into your skin, but it’s kind of nice. You drift back to sleep as the person next to you scoots closer. 


9:02 a.m.

You hear the shower running in the background and a strong singing voice, amplified by bathroom acoustics.

You moan. “Who–”

“Seungkwan.” Hansol mumbles into your hair. You can smell his shampoo and it’s pleasant. 

You find yourself leaning back into his chest, letting yourself indulge in the surge of heat and green apple. “Make him stop.”

“What, you want me to walk in on him?” He drawls groggily. “That’s kind of rude.”

“Please don’t be sarcastic. It’s too early for that.”

“Okay.”


10:24 a.m.

“So.” 

You feel someone exhale warmly onto your exposed neck. Your shirt slightly slides down your shoulder, exposing more skin to the morning air. Hansol’s hair tickles your heavy eyes. You close them, breathing through your nose as you try to fall asleep again, ignoring the beckoning call of sunshine and the boy next to you.

“Hey. Hello.”

You resist the urge to answer, pursing your lips together.

You feel lips graze your ear. A singsong voice. “Good morning.”

“Hansol.”

He hums in response, a triumphant smile spreading on his lips as he stares at your profile, happy you’re finally responding.

“It’s too early to get up.” 

“You do realize it’s around ten in the morning right?”

Dang. You blink at the white ceiling of Hansol’s room before gripping the blankets and hastily rolling over, your elbow knocking into someone’s sharp jaw. You hear a yell and you hold back a laugh as Hansol smacks your shoulder. “What was that for?”

“For not letting me sleep.” You smile into your pillow.

It’s silent. After a while, drowsiness replaces your earlier ecstasy. You can see a peek of golden sunlight from the corner of your eye. Your ears pick up the quiet but insistent ticking of your leather watch on the nightstand, the sound crisp against the still air. It’s actually a really nice morning to wake up to, but your body refuses to move. The warmth of the covers and Hansol’s body heat has you trapped.

With a sigh, you turn around. You jump back, surprised at the close proximity of Hansol’s honey eyes and fluttering lashes. He’s been staring at your back for the longest time until you turned around. 

“Jeez, don’t do that.” You breathe, closing your eyes and snuggling deeper in your blankets. 

Vaguely, you feel Hansol’s gaze on you, inspecting every detail, every line, on your face. A finger is brushing against your cheek, causing you to tense at the contact. You think he’s smiling. 

“Hansol.”

“Hm?”

“Are you gonna get up?”

“Are you gonna get up?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You open your eyes. He’s laying next to you, his pupils unbelievably deep. Gleaming, swirling blackholes. Your heart starts to do that thing it does everytime you’re around him. You can’t really breathe. 


11:06 a.m.

“So.” 

“So.” You breathe out. 

“Are we just gonna stay in bed all day?”

“What if we get hungry?”

Hansol blinks once before reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. Thumbs move quickly across a glowing screen before he locks his phone and places it back on the nightstand. “We got a servant now.” 

He smiles. You’re confused.

Then you hear someone walking up the hallway, clothed footsteps increasing in volume. Someone’s at the door and pushing it open. Seungkwan’s hair is still damp from his shower, but he’s already dressed for the day. He looks between the two of you before focusing on Hansol, a scarily calm smile on his face. 

“Hansol.” Seungkwan starts, raising his phone up. “What the heck is this text?”

“I’m just asking for breakfast.”

“Hansol, you called me your bit–” He stops. He can’t even say it. “Your servant.

“Please? For me?” Hansol presses his palms together. “Just this once?”

Hansol smiles. Seungkwan furrows his eyebrows and throws up his hands before closing (read: slamming) the door. You look over your shoulder at Hansol, who looks back at you. 

“Guess we’re gonna die of starvation.” You say, patting his cheek with your right hand. 

He shakes his head before throwing the covers, effectively cocooning you before wrapping himself around your clothed frame. “Hansol!” You scream, voice muffled. You can hear the timbre of his laugh through the thick comforter, the sound crawling up your spine. When you start to get a little too warm, you kick and thrash until he lets go. 

“Your hair is so messy.” He giggles, pointing at your bedhead.

“Thanks. Thank you.”

There’s a nice moment where his laugh settles and turns into a softened smile, with the sunlight filtering through his irises and lighting them into a honey glow. You watch as his long lashes flutter as he blinks slowly, rubbing his sleepy eyes. 

“Hansol.” You say lowly, leaning in.

He stops, transfixed on you as you shuffle closer. Your faces are really close and you can see the smooth surface of his pale skin, the tender curl of his eyelashes, the cock of his eyebrow. His hand reaches to graze your forearm.

“Hard to resist me?” He whispers lowly.

You throw a pillow at him. 


12:12 p.m.

“We’re not getting up, are we?”

Your grip tightens around his torso. You can hear his heartbeat in your ear, a constant thrum that echoes through your head. After the intense pillow fight between the two of you, you literally had no energy left to do anything but lay in bed and cuddle. Hansol has an arm thrown around you, his fingers lightly grazing your forearm. You wish you could stay like this forever, glued to a bed and attached to him. 

“Never planned to, anyway.” You mumble.

You can hear him smile. “Okay.”