Monday, April 21, 2014

madoka07:

2014 “Magical Girl” Acrylic paint, Canvas F10 17.91x20.86

exhibition work
"Magical Girl Heroines: Sailor Moon and sailor senshi"
http://www.facebook.com/events/658896564156271

Making video :) / Canvas art “Magical Girl”
http://youtu.be/jNjji8I5VbY

Sunday, April 20, 2014

unforgott3n asked: Honey, I'm Home! (Nick/Moira)

fourteenacross:

"Honey, I’m home!" Nick calls out, because he thinks he’s hilarious, that little shit.

"I can’t move, you’re going to have to feed me and carry me to bed," Moira mutters, mostly into the couch."

She hears him picking across the floor, making noises of disbelief, and eventually the couch sags with his weight and he touches her back.

"Did a Lego bomb explode?" he asks in that way he has where he’s trying to act like it’s a joke, but he’s actually afraid it’s true.

"Yes," she says without looking up, even as he starts to rub her shoulders. "A Lego bomb exploded. The accelerant was something called ‘cabin fever’ and the perpetrators have been brought to justice, sent to bed without dessert."

"Casualties?" he asks.

"My sanity, my self-control, and apparently my muscle movement, since I collapsed here an hour ago and haven’t even changed the channel." Moira feels him shift, and a moment later the television, still playing Cartoon Network, clicks off. "I really have to pee," she adds miserably.

"Sorry, babe," he says, but she can hear him laughing, the traitor.

"I’m not doing this again," she says. "I’ve password locked the DVR. I’m holding your shows hostage in exchange for being allowed to leave this god forsaken place."

He doesn’t even try to hide his laugh this time. Instead, he turns her over onto her back and pushes her hair out of her face.

"I get it, I get it," he says. "I promise, if we have snow day number five tomorrow, I’ll switch shifts to stay home with them and you can go to work instead."

"I’m holding you to that," she says. "I never want to work from home again. You can deal with two kids under six going stir crazy and obsessed with the Lego movie. I’m going to work to deal with terrorists, like a sane person."

"Sorry, babe," Nick says again, and stands, presumably to lean over and kiss her, but instead he curses and jumps, then curses again.

"Yeah, don’t plan on walking around without shoes on until at least April," she adds.

"Motherfucker," Nick hisses, dropping back down onto the couch. "New plan: We drop them at Charles and Erik’s and take the next plane to Barbados."

"Deal," Moira says, and sits up to steal that kiss after all.

wei723:

No Shepard without Vakarian

Youtube(5sec.)

fourteenacross:

lyndraws:

dads snuggling with chubby freckled babbs (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

David won’t sleep when the rest of them are awake.
That’s not entirely true. He tires himself out of course. At three months old, he can’t keep going as long as he’d like, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’s incredibly social for a baby, his wide blue eyes always following them around the room, tracking conversations, trying to be a part of things. It’s sweet, Erik thinks—he even babbles at them while they’re talking, like he’s trying to join in, though he’s reacting to the sound of their voices more than anything, and shrieks with delight when something pleases him. That makes Charles happiest of all. He’d been worried since the start, trying to walk the line between embracing David’s telepathy while nurturing his language skills as well, and Charles doesn’t have to do more than smile for Erik to know what a relief he finds it that David vocalizes with them, even if he’s too little to have any comprehension of what they’re saying or for his baby talk to have any real meaning.
Still, as endearing as it is to watch him watch them, it very quickly leads to a cranky baby or a cranky three year old or cranky parents or, more than likely, all three. They’ve gotten used to stealing naps where they can get them, trading off herding the kids and five minutes of sleep on the couch.
Today, though, Charles has announced that they’re all going to sit together. Quiet time, Charles calls it, and Erik is skeptical, but once Charles moves from the wheelchair to the couch and wedges himself into the corner, Lorna doesn’t hesitate to abandon her toys to join him, scampering up into his lap.
"Are you going to read a story, Dada?" she asks, which is a fair question. This does tend to be where Charles sits when he reads her stories.
"We’re going to listen to someone else read all of us a story," Charles says.
"Daddy and Davey too?" she asks.
"Daddy and Davey too," Charles confirms, and gives Erik a Look. Erik shrugs and does one more circuit around the room with David, who’s struggling to keep his eyes open but refuses to give into his nap, and then sits down on the other side of the couch. Charles reaches across and hooks two fingers into his belt to pull him closer. Erik takes the hint and slides closer until he’s pressed up against Charles’ side. David is still curled up against his chest, blinking sleepily at Lorna and Charles, and Lorna strokes his hair with almost comical gentleness.
"He has so much hair," Charles murmurs.
"Did I have that much hair when I was a baby?" Lorna asks, peering up at Charles.
"You didn’t," Charles says. "You had very, very pale blonde hair. It was almost white and just peachfuzz on your head." He strokes her hair for emphasis, long and green and curling at the ends, an indicator that she carries the x-gene sequences, even if she has yet to manifest any specific abilities or physical alterations. "And then when you started to get older, it started coming in thicker and green."
Lorna yawns loudly, and instead of covering her mouth, presses her whole face into Charles’ shoulder.
"Green is best," she says. "You said there was a story."
Read More

be still my heart <3

fourteenacross:

lyndraws:

dads snuggling with chubby freckled babbs (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

David won’t sleep when the rest of them are awake.

That’s not entirely true. He tires himself out of course. At three months old, he can’t keep going as long as he’d like, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’s incredibly social for a baby, his wide blue eyes always following them around the room, tracking conversations, trying to be a part of things. It’s sweet, Erik thinks—he even babbles at them while they’re talking, like he’s trying to join in, though he’s reacting to the sound of their voices more than anything, and shrieks with delight when something pleases him. That makes Charles happiest of all. He’d been worried since the start, trying to walk the line between embracing David’s telepathy while nurturing his language skills as well, and Charles doesn’t have to do more than smile for Erik to know what a relief he finds it that David vocalizes with them, even if he’s too little to have any comprehension of what they’re saying or for his baby talk to have any real meaning.

Still, as endearing as it is to watch him watch them, it very quickly leads to a cranky baby or a cranky three year old or cranky parents or, more than likely, all three. They’ve gotten used to stealing naps where they can get them, trading off herding the kids and five minutes of sleep on the couch.

Today, though, Charles has announced that they’re all going to sit together. Quiet time, Charles calls it, and Erik is skeptical, but once Charles moves from the wheelchair to the couch and wedges himself into the corner, Lorna doesn’t hesitate to abandon her toys to join him, scampering up into his lap.

"Are you going to read a story, Dada?" she asks, which is a fair question. This does tend to be where Charles sits when he reads her stories.

"We’re going to listen to someone else read all of us a story," Charles says.

"Daddy and Davey too?" she asks.

"Daddy and Davey too," Charles confirms, and gives Erik a Look. Erik shrugs and does one more circuit around the room with David, who’s struggling to keep his eyes open but refuses to give into his nap, and then sits down on the other side of the couch. Charles reaches across and hooks two fingers into his belt to pull him closer. Erik takes the hint and slides closer until he’s pressed up against Charles’ side. David is still curled up against his chest, blinking sleepily at Lorna and Charles, and Lorna strokes his hair with almost comical gentleness.

"He has so much hair," Charles murmurs.

"Did I have that much hair when I was a baby?" Lorna asks, peering up at Charles.

"You didn’t," Charles says. "You had very, very pale blonde hair. It was almost white and just peachfuzz on your head." He strokes her hair for emphasis, long and green and curling at the ends, an indicator that she carries the x-gene sequences, even if she has yet to manifest any specific abilities or physical alterations. "And then when you started to get older, it started coming in thicker and green."

Lorna yawns loudly, and instead of covering her mouth, presses her whole face into Charles’ shoulder.

"Green is best," she says. "You said there was a story."

Read More

be still my heart <3

concernedresidentofbakerstreet:

fuckyeahvintage-retro:

Blouse Collars, 1940s-50s - By Charlotte Dymock.

there was a lot of bullshit in the forties and fifties but the style was not part of it

nicegoaleh:

huffingtonpost:

You’ve been cutting tomatoes wrong, learn how to cut like a ninja here.

QUICK! Someone send this to Benedict!!

nbchannibal:

travalicious:

me after every episode of hannibal

image

us after every episode of hannibal

image

lyndraws:

dads snuggling with chubby freckled babbs (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

lyndraws:

dads snuggling with chubby freckled babbs (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

Saturday, April 19, 2014

nicolasanddavid:

X-Kittens

Friday, April 18, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
brilcrist:

Based on the latest trailer 
sorry i’m not sorry~

brilcrist:

Based on the latest trailer

sorry i’m not sorry~

petite-madame:

Jared Padalecki as The Winter Soldier and Jensen Ackles as Captain America. My contribution to this month’s Spn art challenge and the theme “Poster Movie Crossover”.