beause of you

How to play Mercy

So you think you got what it takes to be a Mercy main? Ok, let’s see, here are the basics:

  1. Before you start your game, make sure you have at least one bottle of Vodka beause oh my god you are going to need it.
  2. As soon as you enter your game say ‘Hello’ and wave in an effort to make the team care about you. If they don’t say ‘Hello’ back then ignore them for the rest of the game - they are on your naughty list.
  3. If there is a friendly Pharah who said ‘Hello’ back then you are basically married. Make sure to keep her alive at all costs. She flies into an ulting Reaper? Follow her. You fly and die together.
  4. Mercys pistol does a surprising amount of damage! Use it. Be the Battle Mercy you always wanted to be and bathe in the blood of your enemies and of your own team mates that are screaming for healing all over the place.
  5. Make sure to teabag when your entire team dies and you have your ult ready. Bonus points if you sit on the ground, let the camera linger, spray, resurrect, and then teabag. Everyone will love your POTG especially the Genji whose quintuple kill you just negated.
  6. As Mercy you are the center of the univese. When someone isn’t close enough for Guardian Angel let them die. You are the ruler over life and death and they have to learn their place. Establish dominance.
  7. The sooner you accept that people are not going to vote for you even if you heal 62%  of the overall damage, the better off you will be. Accept that the Roadhog’s 40% Hook-Accuracy is more important. 
  8. Shove your staff up the tanks ass and let your ult charge on them. Ignore the dying flankers, there are health packs for them. Ignore the Mei that is currently freezing your co-healer, Ressurect has priority over everything.
  9. You will scream a lot. Prepare in advance and get Ricola^TM for the maximum swiss feel.
  10. Ignore the Genjis. They have the blood of your sisters on their hands - they don’t deserve healing.

“I shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you
so, why do I want to?”

skumringkatt  asked:

I keep wondering about Greg - did he know Mary was the one who shot Sherlock? As I recall, he wasn`t told at the time, probably because it would put him in a difficult position, even if Sherlock didn`t press charges. As a DI, he can`t just ignore Mary having a gun without licence and a fake identity. So my guess is he never learned about it. Yet, when Mary dies in TST, she mentions shooting Sherlock with Greg standing right there and he doesn`t look surprised at all ! What do you make of that ?

Well, and John tells Greg that Sherlock shot Magnussen, even as this should have been kept to secret. And Sherlock at least hints at something being wrong with Mary after he faced Ajey at the pool when Greg is present at 221b in TST…

IDK. Perhaps Mofftiss just forgot  what and what not Greg knows? Or didn’t care anymore? Beause you are right, as a policeman Greg would have been liable to act against Mary had he known. And against Sherlock…

But then, he never does anything about John shooting the cabbie. Doesn’t he even suspect?

Perhaps it’s a sign for nothing being real, at least after HLV? But right now I’ll attribute it more likely to sloppy writing

I love Rupert’s Lestrade so much that I’m rather sad they didn’t make more of his character. For example, give him either Molly or Mycroft as a romantic interest in the end. *sighs*

!!!!!APRIL FOLLOW TRAIN!!!!
🏃🏃🏃🏃💁

You guys know the rules… Do I really need to explain them?

Ok, fineeeee I will

In a nutshell:

Reblog this post and follow as many people who reblogged it as you can, follow all Swiftie blogs back and watch your followers and friends multiply!!

REMEMBER TO EAT LOTS ICE CREAM BEAUSE YOU DESERVE IT.

- Love Alice

Belladonna

Carver/Merrill, for Rae, beause I know you’re fond of these two. 

There’s some kind of irony in it – him falling for a mage.

His father was a mage, and both his sisters. But though he doesn’t possess the ability, Carver has a fairly good understanding of magic. He knows the dangers; flames lapping at small fingers, growing out of control, and Marian’s shriek before Father’s larger hands come to close around hers, stifling the fire. Bethany refusing to sleep, for fear of the Fade. She’d crawl into his bunk, and he’d try to keep her awake, talking of nothing and everything into the long hours. He’d fail, more often than not, and feel ashamed at feeling relief when she’d finally drift off. Then he would be the one to spend the night sleepless, worrying if he should have done more to keep her awake; if she will wake if he shakes her, and if he should call for Father or not. 

No, Carver is no stranger to the dangers of magic, but he knows the good things, too. ‘Household magic’, Malcolm had called it, with the charming smile his eldest sister inherited upon her birth. A calm flame used for cooking, and cold to keep food lasting longer. And other little tricks to keep pests away and the crops good and growing. Carver does not fear magic; it’s hard to, growing up with three apostates and ample lectures about responsible use. 

Kirkwall changes things. Malcolm and Bethany are gone, and the only one to keep him up at night is himself, visiting old ghosts. It’s harder to hide magic in Kirkwall, but his sister keeps busy, thriving in the underbelly of the city as she’d thrive anywhere, and he follows, ever wary of passing templars and scowling Chantry sisters. Another danger of magic is being caught using it, something Hawke appears cheerfully unconcerned about, and so Carver begins to fear for her. It’s not so much a fear of magic as it is a fear of the fate that awaits reckless apostates, but his concerns are not shared by Marian, nor the two mages that find their way into their midsts. The Warden renegade keeps an illegal clinic under the Circle’s nose, and the Dalish elf hoards a magic mirror in her house, and Carver begins to wonder if he shouldn’t begin fearing for himself instead. 

He doesn’t, of course, but then good sense has never been a very Hawke-like trait. 

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Because of you

NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED AND ALL RIGHTS OF THE MUSIC GO TO THE ONE AND ONLY TAYLOR SWIFT) the song is FAB

taylorswift

TAYLOR! Some of us in the UK have put together a little video for you, titled ‘beause of you’. In this video we go through what you’ve helped us with personally and why we’re better people because of you!! I really hope you enjoy it! I love you!!!



included in this video, in order of appearance! are kaleidoscopeofenchantingthings 2paperairplanesswift till-the-gravitys-too-much music-in-my-mind-swiftie taylorswiftt1989 nashvilleandswift swiftsdreaming mandiieeswiftie1989 theswiftieone dancing-in-a-snowglobe-1989 badblood1989 helbigandswift tillyyswift sugarswifft thebesttay13 memoriesofswift we-dont-remember-the-rain alltootay13 screaming-color-swift micaa15 ap0laroidofus treacherous02 sawalightinyouswift laraheaven13 taylorswiftunicornsandrainbows wispaswift sineadmurray

Darcy was up early the next morning, which wasn’t uncommon for her. She woke Eleanor up as soon as she decided she wanted out of her crib. Eleanor let out a groan, turning down the monitor that Darcy was clearly holding the other end to and talking through. “I have got to take those bars off.” Eleanor groaned as she rolled out of her own bed. She shuffled to Darcy’s room and walked over to her bed. “Do you mind hanging out in bed for another ten minutes baby? I have to shower quick.” Eleanor asked, running a hand through her blond curls. Darcy nodded and so Eleanor handed her a book and turned on the CD on her shelve. It played a CD that Sebastian had burned of musical showstoppers. 

Eleanor retreated to her room, grabbed the baby monitor and a towel and jumped into the shower quickly. It was six AM, she had hardly slept all night, waiting for Riley to return. After an hour or waiting, she cleaned up the cups and climbed into bed. 

“Mama, are you done yet?” Darcy called through the monitor, the faint sounds of a song from The Lion King playing in the background. Eleanor shut off the water, climbed out of the shower and wrapped herself with a towel. She returned to her bedroom and grabbed an outfit. They had breakfast in two hours and shopping around lunch. Eleanor let Darcy out and turned on the Christmas music in the kitchen as she made up a lunch for them for their day out. Hemlock, their little pug, who had slept soundly in the bedroom all night, hadn’t been affected by their fighting the night before, but he was anxious to be out and about. Eleanor grabbed him while Darcy played. It was going to a long and very uncomfortable day. She couldn’t even start to think about their conversation the night before.

“but my testicles being between my thighs isn’t comfortable!” NEITHER IS BEING SQUISHED INTO A TINY BOX BEAUSE THE DUDE NEXT TO YOU IS SPREAD OUT. why is YOUR comfort more important than MINE?

I promise you

I promise you, one day things will change. The guy who left goosebumps on every inch of your skin after touching you, will leave and it’ll burn. You’ll find yourself drunk texting him that you miss him six months later, and he won’t reply.

But you shouldn’t worry about him. The guy you should worry about is your father. At 16, he’ll ask you if you want to go get breakfast somewhere and you’ll say “No!” beause you want that lay in and extra time to spend in bed, doing nothing, wasting the day away.

I know it doesn’t seem like much, but when you’re 80 remembering your childhood and thinking of your parents, you’ll look back and realise those little things were actually the big things. I challenge you, to spend as much time with your parents whilst you still can.

Cherish what time you have, because one day, it will run out.