my nose is not that big!!!

anonymous asked:

Harry in glasses is super super hot can you imagine him in a loose shorts in his waist shirtless with his hair a little messy skin tanned and a baby in his arms and you are in the kitchen and see him there like oh gosh I want Harry to be my husband and walking shirtless with our baby in his arms such a daddy with his glasses on

And he’s just chatting to his little newborn daughter, about anything and everything that comes to mind as he feeds her her bottle, when she steps into the room.

“Yeh know, mummy doesn’t even get me up this early, little love. Yeh had me up at four this morning. Four,” he gasps playfully, staring down at his daughter, through the lenses of his glasses, as she looks back at him with her similar green eyes, a smile on his dry lips. Feeling the pull and swiping his tongue across his pink flesh. His frames slipping down his nose. “Only did it once but we won’t go into detail because daddy’s stomach can’t quite handle the re-telling. Lots of sick because you didn’t make mummy feel so good when you were in her tummy. But, if she did it again, kicked me awake or summink, I wouldn’t mind. You’re the two of the most important ladies in my life. Nana and Auntie Gem are also up there. Surrounded by the most beautiful women, I am, eh? Little bit of all of them in you. Aren’t I lucky?” He chuckles softly and gently dabs his thumb against the corner of her mouth, collecting the milk that had dribbled down her skin. “Little bit of a messer, aren’t yeh? Not just in your nappy.”

The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence as he listens to his surroundings.

The distant sound of cars starting up and crunching the gravel of the neighbours’ driveways as people left for work. The whirring of the fridge in the far corner that was decorated with sonogram photos and magnets that Harry had brought home from his travels during the second leg of his Live On Tour tour that had happened just a few months prior. The constant dripping of the water coming from the faucet by the sink. The rustle of the wind catching in the leaves of the trees in the garden and the gentle tapping of rain hitting the window as it fit the mood of the dreary London weather outside. But his favourite sound, and one that he had started off feeling panicked by, was the snuffles and the delicious sounds that escaped his little girl. The softest grunts coming from within her, her gentle breathing making him feel much more relaxed.

“Are we finished yet? Been eatin’ for twenty minutes, haven’t yeh? Definitely got yeh mummy’s appetite,” he hums softly, and as if on cue, Persephone pulled away from the teat of the bottle and gave hm a grumpy frown upon her features, “oh, now. Don’t you look at daddy like that, little love. That’s not a good face,” he sets the bottle down upon the counter of the breakfast island in the middle of the room, “promise me, you won’t vomit down my back again? I know you find it funny when you do that, you cheeky little thing, but daddy’s not wearing a shirt this time around,” he drapes the spit-up blanket over his shoulder before he stands to his feet, “but, I will tell you what I wish I put on; some socks. S’alright for you. Yours tuck nicely underneath my arm. But, daddy’s feet, well, they could be ice blocks by the time m’done with yeh.”

His hand comes up to cup the back of daughter’s head. Her hair, smelling of baby shampoo and still giving off the new-baby smell that she’d been graced with from birth, soft beneath his touch as his other cupped her bum. Fingers rubbing and patting at her back as he chose to bob up and down and sway his hips with his steps.

“Are we gon’a have a nice cuddle with mummy when she wakes up?”

“Mummy’s already awake,” he hears from behind him, carefully spinning around on his heels as he sends his wife a smile, “it’s hard to fall asleep when my personal heater leaves the bed so early in the morning.”

He chuckles lightly and watches as she steps across the tiles. Warm socks on her feet and stepping upon his cold toes to warm them up.

“Thank you,” he smiles, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead, “think my toes were about to turn into ice.”

“I keep telling you the kitchen gets cold,” she tuts, cupping his cheek in her palm and running her thumb across his upper lip, his stubble catching the pad, “you’re looking for daddy today, aren’t you? Why’ve you cracked these glasses out? Not that I hate them or have anything bad to say,” she snickers, “just, didn’t think you’d be wearing them often.”

She pushes the frame up his nose and sends him a warm grin.

“Fancied a change today,” his lips brush over his daughter’s ear as he hums softly, swaying his hips and patting her back. His eyes widening when he heard the rather loud burp escape her lips, “bleedin’ hell, little love, where’d that come from, huh? Such a big sound for someone so tiny. That was impressive.” xx

anonymous asked:

Your art seems to suffer from a lot of same face, same pose. Have you considered trying to do more dynamic poses, and maybe varying your facial shapes? Everyone seems to have the same shaped nose, the same big round eyes, and the same smile.

If this is in response to the purposefully uniform PeachFuzz portraits, allow me to show you some of my art outside of the comic strip’s style.

/waves arms in a vague *look look look* gesture/

That being said, 

I have medical bills that came up suddenly, and I have created more commission slots should anyone be interested!

Fun fact: I do ink work for different publications and I do a lot of personal budoir/pin-up illustrations, which is what I mostly do outside of writing PeachFuzz. Check out my Instagram if you’re hungry for more stuff like this.

Excuse my face, and my eyebrows, and my crusty lips, but I’m insanely Thankful for 2 years with this equally bigheaded, blue eyed wiener of a boyfriend! And since I won’t be on tomorrow(probably) I JUST WANTED TO WISH EVERYONE A HAPPY HOLIDAYS/THANKSGIVING!

Panic Cord (Chap.5)

Panic Cord - Reader is a blind person living in New York, when one day she’s saved by a mysterious man with a metal arm who shows her that seeing isn’t always believing. (Catch up on previous chapters here.)

A/N: So this is one of many updates I’m going to be doing before the year ends! I’m trying to update everything before New Years, so this is just one of many you’ll see from now on! This one is major feels, y’all. Things between you and Bucky get hella personal. :’)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Blind!Reader

Warnings: Fluffiest thing I’ve ever wrote. Mentions of deceased family. (If you’re uncomfy with any of these, keep scrolling.)

Keep reading

Darksword Part II - Teaser #2

“Darksword - A Kagehina Fantasy” Part II will be posted Saturday (11/25), don’t miss it!

“Oi, boy, what are your tears for?”

Kageyama scrambled to his feet. In the stream, a man stood to his ankles in the water, trousers rolled up. He was big and muscular, with a bone-white scar on his left cheek and dark, close-cropped hair. His upper body was naked. He was washing his shirt in the water, looking up at Kageyama on the road. How had Kageyama not noticed him?

Then he saw the whitewood staff leaning on a tree by the bank of the stream, and he shivered.

A wizard.

“My tears are for me,” Kageyama said, sniffling. He rubbed his sleeve under his nose. “They aren’t for you to ask of, wizard.” He tried his best to sound imperiously aloof.

The man smiled. “Ay, young master, that is true. But I see a poor boy crying alone in the woods, and I can’t help but think some harm has come to him.” He shook out the shirt. “I worry is all, young master.”

Kageyama seethed. “I am not some lost wretch,” he said sternly. “I am the Ninth Prince of Kitaga. And I don’t need anyone to worry about me!”

The man bowed his head. He wrung out the water from his shirt into the stream. “Course you don’t, young master. Never thought you did. But I know a run when I see one, and you were running from something, for sure.” He slapped the shirt on a large rock to sun it dry. He stepped out of the stream, picking his way carefully over the bank, and sat near the rock. “You ought to go back now, young Prince of Kitaga, or you won’t be able to face the city Nibo.”

Kageyama narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean wizard?”

The man chuckled. “You call me wizard, but ask what I mean? Ay, I mean what I say, young master, and what I say is meant. I speak, and so it is done. What is done becomes speech, and what is spoken becomes real. There is no difference between you or I, or the rock here, or the water. Nor between you and the fear waiting for you back along this road. If you can’t face that, young Prince, you will never walk the streets of the Floating City. You will be caught in your own trap of doubt. Do not doubt yourself, young master. Feel the fear. Become it. Then let it drift through you like the silt in this stream. Pass, young master, pass through.”

He looked up, above the trees, to the east, where the sun, now later in the morning, climbed higher into the sky. “The light rises, and magic is an art where we always look up,” the man said, and Kageyama was suddenly filled with a wave of absolute warmth and joy that rolled from the man’s very being. He felt like crying all over again, but for a different reason, a better reason: one of joy, one of hope. The wizard turned to face Kageyama, his eyes piercing, his mouth smiling. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

Read Part 1 Here

jeynehopper  asked:

i just woke up covered in blood, because apparently you broke my nose in your sleep for Kali/Steve (if you want)

Steve stirred, his peaceful sleep interrupted by the fact that he felt oddly crusty. That didn’t seem right.

Rubbing under his nose, he pulled his hand away and in the dark of his room he found a dark smudge across it. “Oh, shit!”

Kali rolled over beside him, her eyes opening. She fumbled for the lamp and yelped. “Oh, god!”


“Your nose!”

He rubbed it again and saw the rusty smudges on his hand. “Shit, what the –?”

Kali got out of bed, still wearing Steve’s t-shirt and a pair of shorts and nothing else. It had been a fluke, hooking up with Jane’s big sister from the city, but it had still be a lot of fun. Well, until now.

“I must have hit you in my sleep, I’m sorry, I toss a little,” she said, though she didn’t sound particularly apologetic as she cleaned the blood away from his nose and chin.

“Worth it, really. You’re cute when you sleep.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t tell anyone.”

this is my version of prince haru from the great mission to save princess peach i really like him even though i haven’t watched it yet i wanted him to look a little like his Dogy form as a human so i gave him the big nose and eyebrow things and hair sticky outies also he’s gay now thanks for looking at my picture

no use

Because I am 100% Broppy trash and this movie has destroyed me and because I am a master at procrastinating.

Anyway, have some nose-booping Broppy! (because i couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to make them kiss without it being awkward.)

Also, totally not inspired by a certain scene in dragonNMR’s amazing fic “A Troll Epic”.