for kindness

watch got7 fool us into thinking that this is gonna be a deep and powerful message about their friendship and bond as a group but when they drop the video and the necklaces all connect it turns into a cheesy Power Rangers parody and they’re wearing tacky suits and when they take off their masks they all have their stop stop it era hair


stranger things meme [3/5 characters]: Mike Wheeler

“I don’t know why I just didn’t tell you. Everyone at school knows. I just didn’t want you to think I was such a wasteoid, you know?”

When I was playing Overwatch I had Mercy and Pharah on my team and heard Mercy say the usual “Keep the skies clear for me” and expected Pharah to stay quiet but like 3 seconds later I heard Pharah say “Let’s keep the skies clear together” and it’s the first time I’ve heard it properly since I got the game in November and I’m so happy!

(Also got a potg on death match as Mercy lol)

as free as [his] hair

so @thesschesthair committed the ultimate sin today and removed all of Killian’s hair. (hey @killian-whump, you’re guilty, too ;P )

so I had to fix it: let’s give him MORE HAIR (but not, like, hirsuteness or anything crazy). 1.3k of unbeta’d fluff (almost literally) [title from “Hair” by Lady Gaga]

She didn’t notice it at first—not until the day she was trying to tell her mom about Killian’s elf ears.

“Just look at them!” Emma exclaimed, pointing across Granny’s to where he stood at the counter fetching drinks. But his hair covered up the pointed tips, and that’s when she realized that it was longer than it had been in a long time; probably not since their return from the Underworld.

Her mother told her she believed her, but Emma spent the rest of the meal wondering at Killian’s choice of hairstyle. She’d never tell him how to wear it, of course, but she wondered if it hinted at anything emotionally, though he hadn’t been acting out of the ordinary.

It became something she kept on silent observation, figuring commentary might make him self-conscious. But it was definitely getting longer, and it almost felt thicker whenever her fingers inevitably found their way into it at more intimate times. (And, if she wasn’t wrong, so did his chest hair. There wasn’t more of it, necessarily—it still  decorated his pecs in the same way, trailing down just the center of his stomach—but he just seemed extra…huggable lately. Like a teddy bear. But she’d absolutely NEVER tell him that.)

She did finally have to say something after hearing him huff for the umpteenth time when having to pushing his fringe from his face while prepping dinner.

“You know, I have probably have a headband somewhere you could borrow…or a hair tie,” she suggested, pushing his locks from his face and running her hand back through his coif, to where it ended near the base of his neck.

“Are you suggesting we share hair accessories in addition to the kohl we already both use?” he proposed in reply, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Wait—you’re the reason I keep running out of eyeliner?” His wink was the only answer she received but it was enough to distract her from her initial comment—until a few days later, when he asked for her help in pulling his hair back into a ponytail. (She didn’t say anything, but may have taken to playing with the little nub of hair whenever the opportunity presented itself.)

She figured, at some point, he’d want to get it cut, but still it grew. And she knew it wasn’t the first time he’d worn his hair pulled back—she’d seen the ribbons on his ship—but figured that he might get tired of having to have her put it up every day. Of course, she didn’t mind doing it, seeing as it wasn’t often she got the chance to pamper him when he did so much for her, but still—it was a little surprising.

(Though not as surprising as seeing her dad’s full head of curls that he probably hadn’t sported since he was a kid.)

So she continued to be merely amused by it, until the day she was searching for an extra bottle of body wash in the bathroom cupboard and found an odd, old-fashioned bottle hiding with the shaving cream. It definitely wasn’t hers, and given the nature of liquids in weird vials in this town, she grew worried.

“Killian, is this yours?” she asked him as she went downstairs, interrupting him reading. She didn’t think it was his, but figured she should cover her bases before calling Regina—though her thumb was already hovering over the mayor’s name on her phone.

Killian looked up from his book and then, to her shock, blanched when he saw what she held. He swallowed thickly before replying, “Oh, you found that.”

Keep reading

Circle mages after Divine Victoria has granted them freedom.

Circle mages who don’t know what it’s like to have a real family and aren’t quite sure how to act in one.

Circle mages who have nightmares and unsettling dreams about the Circle, years and even decades after they’ve left.

Circle mages who never learned to cook a meal or barter for one.

Circle mages who wonder every day if they’re messing up something simple, making a fool of themselves because they only know how social interactions work in a highly stratified environment.

Circle mages who instinctively look over their shoulder for templars several times a day.

Circle mages who get to buy their own clothes for the first time in their life (and have no idea what it’s like to wear their own size, because all they wore in the Circle were ill-fitting hand-me-downs.)

Circle mages terrified to fall in love– but ready to try.

Circle mages teaching themselves the trade skills that they were never taught.

Circle mages using their magic for good and getting a little thrill for doing it out in public and not getting in trouble for it.

Circle mages standing outside in the rain or snow or under a tree in a spring breeze.

Circle mages who don’t know how to deal with the real world but are determined to face it head-on anyway, because they’ll be damned if they’re going to waste this gift.


Même si les dieux n’existent pas,

J’les ai confondus avec leur semblables au costard cravate

Ces marchands de sable,

Qui promettent la lune sans connaitre la terre

Qui s’appellent adultes mais si terre-à-terre

Even if gods don’t exist,

I’ve confused them for their look-alikes in suits and ties

These sandmen,

Who promise the moon without knowing the earth,

Who are called adults but are so down-to-earth (in a mundane way)