it looks like his hand is on my head im laughing

  • aight so who’s willing to bet that if genji still has hair he dyes it neon fucking green 
  • one night zenyatta just just goes to see genji because no one’s seen him all day and he just finds him with his head covered in tinfoil
  • zenyatta’s really confused for a minute before he remembers that some humans think tinfoil keeps aliens away
  • genji, meanwhile, still hasn’t said anything
  • zenyatta’s just “are you attempting to ward off the aliens?” 
  • genji looks appropriately alarmed for a minute before he just starts laughing
  • “something like that”
  • the next day genji’s hair is just neon green
  • hanzo smiles a little bit and even if he’ll never admit it he has to stop himself from reaching out and ruffling it
  • his hair gets caught in his visor and it matches and it’s hilarious 
  • MEANWHILE zenyatta thinks this is perfectly normal and one day he just paints his head green because of course that’s a natural hair color 
  • he goes to talk to genji and of course he’s totally chill because this is normal and genji just fucking wheezes 
  • zenyatta’s a little worried he’s going to overheat 
  • they let him float around like that for four fucking days 
  • in short they’re all assholes except zenyatta 
  • he just wanted hair guys

do you believe in love at first sight?

my dearest—

maybe you have to define love for yourself first. when your heart sighs, when you think about it and warmth blooms in your chest, when you connect and it’s like a piece of a puzzle you’ve been looking for has finally clicked into place.

love at first sight. is it a person? do you think love sparks in you the moment you meet, or when you hear them laugh for the first time, or when they catch your eyes and you see something in them?

or perhaps it’s not a person. it might be a piece of art, the colors and the harmony in the piece striking a chord in you. it might be when you glance out the window and catch the last rays of the setting sun, golden on the window pane, every day a little different and beautiful. today, my cat purred into my hand, rubbed his head against my palm. soft and warm and filling an empty space in my chest. i think maybe i loved him when i first saw him, loved his bright eyes, loved the way he danced around, searching for a toy. maybe he was searching for a home, too, and i gave him one.

or maybe love at first sight doesn’t exist. there’s a lot of maybe’s, aren’t there? maybe. i think maybe we can fall in love with potential. maybe love stems from the memories that are waiting for you, the aftermath of seeing something, meeting someone, the might and the maybe.

that’s me. you— you will have to decide for yourself. unsent, 8:58 pm


ADDICTED15: day 6 » child(ren) you love so much; tom & eliot cobalt, luna hale

Five-year-old Tom exits the car first, his golden brown hair combed back. My muscles frost, my body solidifying like ice. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
A word is written on his forehead in black marker.
He sets his black duffel on the ground while his older brother jumps out of the car. “Thanks for driving us, Mom!” Six-year-old Eliot calls out and spins around, the same word on his forehead.
For my daughter to have that. Christ. I internally shake my head, whiplashed. We speak of moving mountains, but sometimes people can completely rotate the world, just so someone else can land upright on their feet.
Luna is laughing. “Why’d you go and do that?” She points at Tom’s forehead.
Tom sticks his hands in his coat pockets. “Because if they’re gonna call you a weirdo, then that means we’re weirdos.”
“Definitely,” Eliot agrees.

College au drabble

Alexander paces across the campus grounds, determinedly avoiding anyone and everyone he encounters. His head is down and he stares at the sidewalk or the faded design on his hoodie. There’s a tight knot in his stomach- the idea, the fear that somehow he’s going to fuck this all up and go back home empty handed.
Alexander’s nervous. Oh my god, is he nervous- it feels like he’s going to throw up and he really does not want to–
Papers go flying as he slams into someone, and instinctively Alex grasps his bags close to him as he slams into the ground. He hears a startled laugh and looks up at the still standing- of course he’s still standing, why did Alexander have to be so damn tiny-
“Sorry,” Alex blurts, looking almost bewildered as he sat in the sea of papers. “Shit, sorry- here, let me help-“
“You’re good,” the stranger says warmly, and Alex looks up to send them a grateful look and holy shit, freckles. The guy is cute, and that makes Alex even more embarrassed.
It’s been five minutes on campus and already he’s fucked up. Nice.
“I’m Alexander Hamilton,” Alex says, hastily handing back the papers. A quick glance shows they’re anatomy sketches, so he asks, “You wanna be in the medical field?”
“John Laurens,” the cute stranger– John greets. John grimaces and adds in an almost hesitant tone “I’m studying law,” and the words come out like he tastes something foul.
“Me too!” Alex beams. They stand there for a moment, awkwardly. Alex coughs. “So, John-“
“All my friends call me Laurens,” John– Laurens interrupts, and while usually it bothers Alex to be cut off, he’s too distracted by the word choice. Friends.
Alex class his throat. “Laurens, then,” he smiles, “do you know where the dorms are? I need to meet my roommate,” he stuffs a hand into his pocket and searches for the crumpled slip of paper with directions. Finally finding it, he shows it to Laurens with a flourish, beaming.
Laurens looks over the paper slip with squinting eyes- Alex feels embarrassed by his chicken scratch- before Laurens chuckles. Laurens hands back the paper and jabs his thumb towards his chest. “Found your roommate,” he announces proudly.
Fuck, Alex panics, I’m going to have to live with a cute guy. Fuck. Okay, Alex, act cool, act calm-
“Fuck,” is what comes out of his mouth. Eloquent. Fucking nailed it, Alex.
Laurens’ smile slips, and Alex rushes to figuratively put it back in place. “No, what I meant was, I can’t believe you’re my roommate- wait, that still sounds rude, sorry- I’m just. I’m glad. You seem nice, Laurens, I like you a lot.”
Laurens beams, and surprises Alex by grabbing his wrist. “C’mon,” Laurens says, “I’ll show you the dorm.”

anonymous asked:


OK JUST IMAGINE ME TYPING THIS WITH A LOT OF PAIN!!! (for things abt my meetup with dan and phil check this tag nicE)

-dan saying “beautiful” after we all took the selfiE

-phil saying “let’s do it!!” before the picture and dan lAUGHING at what phil said

-my first hug with phil was SO GOOD like i collided with him and he SQUEEZED me like he was so warm

-after the picture phil kind of like Tilted his head and looked down at me with this FACE and his hand still on my back like :))))) Let me LIVE p leas

-DAN HAD KIND OF GRABBY HANDS WHEN I HANDED HIM MY PHONE idk how to describe but if u watch the vid and look closely his hands do a grabby motion like he did in the video with the electric shocking pEN 

-right when i finished hugging phil for the 2nd time dan already has his arms outstretched :’))))


“You have to hold still,” Will laughed. His hands were braced on each of Hannibal’s antlers and he was trying desperately and unsuccessfully to bottle the giggle fit bubbling in his chest.

“I am,” Hannibal protested very softly, though again he tried to strain forward and pop his rack free from the door frame. The man looked so agitated, so horribly hurt by this moment of indignity. His bony features sagged in pathetic sadness.

This was, admittedly, Will’s fault. He had told Hannibal that the back door was plenty big enough for him to squeeze through; he had just replaced the door a few years back, he said, so that he’d have an easier time bringing loads of bulk food and other household supplies into the mudroom. He wasn’t quite sure why Hannibal had chosen to believe him and try to enter the house without twisting his head a bit like he normally did. Will tried to muster up a lick of sympathy, a twinge of guilt, but found that he could only conjure saccharine amusement, much to the wendigo’s displeasure.

“You’re going to break a hole in my house if you keep doing that,” Will chided as Hannibal pushed forward again. Roughly he tried to twist the black prongs and dislodge them from the frame, to no avail. “Let me get something to lube them up.” He thought about running upstairs and grabbing his bottle of lube from the bedside table, though decided that any extra indignity might cause Hannibal to burst a vein. Instead, Will padded into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of olive oil from his counter. Hannibal eyed the container sadly when he returned.

“Is that what you use to cook?”

“Maybe I should leave you stuck there.”

“Please, no.” Will smiled and cocked his hips before unscrewing the cap of the oil. He poured a generous amount on each of the points where Hannibal was stuck, using his fingers to try and rub it into the wood a little. When he was satisfied that the area was properly coated, he set the bottle down and grasped the wendigo’s antlers again.

“Alright. On three. One–”


“Three.” With a tremendous tug, Will pulled Hannibal’s antlers free, twin chips of wood flying across the room when he did so and clattering to the floor somewhere. The wendigo stumbled forward before gracefully righting himself again, his chin held high as if he had not just been stuck in a doorway. With a grin, Will wiped his oily fingers on his pants. “You certainly are the scourge of mankind. I should’ve taken a picture.”


“Why didn’t you just shift back, anyways?”

Hannibal snarled and Will laughed, the sound soft and bright, and full of love for this strange, strange beast.

But I'll Always Remember You

“Harry, your zipper is open.” She observed, giggling right after.

He looked at her with an incredulous face, his vision a bit blurred by the wet strands of his hair covering his eyes. He pushed them aside, and looked at her. She had her dress and her heels on, her purse in hand, hair and makeup done and beautiful as if it had taken her three hours only to apply lipstick. “You’re ready? What the hell, Y/N?”

She laughed, and he noticed, just like he did everyday, how incredibly beautiful she was. “It’s probably because of your hair. You spend too much time on it. It’s almost longer than mine, you know.”

He shook his head, pulling his zipper up. “I can’t believe I’m taking longer than you to get ready. I don’t even know where my phone is. Have you seen it? I might have dropped it in the toilet.”

She strode towards him, and took his face in between her hands. “Relax. It’s on the kitchen counter.”

“And my keys?”

“I put them in my purse.”

“My tie?”

“Hanging behind the door. I didn’t want it to get wrinkled.”

“My brain?” He joked, and Y/N laughed again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Right here.” She tapped the side of her own head, and he rolled his eyes playfully as she giggled.

They were both so different, and yet got along so well. She was in her third year at Harvard, he was playing guitar and singing at some gigs in random bars. She read a million books, he wrote a million songs. She spoke fluent french, he played the piano as if it were his first language. She loved the countryside, he loved the beach. She wanted to visit Greece, he wanted to visit California. She always wore heels, he always tripped on his own feet. He always forgot everything, she was always the one who reminded him. She always had too much on her mind, he was always the one to relax her.

“We should probably get going, or we’ll be late.” She said, and Harry hurried to make his hair look presentable.

He glanced at the mirror. “Well, this will have to do.” He patted his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

Y/N shook her head with a smirk on her face. “Kitchen counter.”

“Right. Yeah. Let’s go, then.”

imagine they’re starting a new anime

and as the title sequence starts dan shushes phil and leans his ear nearer to the tv in order to hear it, because its important to him that he listens to it uninterrupted to figure out how he feels about it.

then a couple of episodes in dans enjoying the song and he hears this tiny voice from the other end of the sofa, then he looks round to see phil trying to sing along to the words. he just looks at phil like hes made a tunnel of friendship hand gesture, then phil catches dans eye and tries to hit a high note whilst attempting to sing in ‘japanese’, but they just burst out laughing and they have to rewind the next couple minutes of the episode.

then another time theres a really tense bit pre-theme song and phil looks over to dan when the song starts as if to go ‘wow thats inteNSe’ but he finds dan moving (just) his head from side to side in time with the song. phil simply starts laughing. dan looks over with a completely serious face still, and his hands join in: clicking fingers and waving with his head. phil cant stop laughing and dan starts to sing along (in english). phil joins in in ‘japanese’ and they both jam until the episode resumes when they giggle and carry on watching.

and its these moments that remind them that whilst the world may see ‘dan and phil’ they are able to see each other. and no matter what labels they’re expected to identify with, they love each other, in so many ways, for moments like this, when they are themselves with each other. because i think a lot of people forget that these two men are actually best friends, and that tends to make them forget themselves, but moments like this, are reminders.

yus i was hoping someone would pick 38…

also sorry not sorry i took a break to see the new pixar movie w/some friends…it was cute af and it mentioned Minnesota a lot so ref

“Aw, look who finally decided to grace me with her wonderful presence…”

“Gah!” Juvia jumped upwards, her hand colliding with Gray’s  face roughly.

“Ouch, what the fuck is wrong with you!?!” He cried in anguish, rolling off the couch unceremoniously.

“Oh…sorry, I thought you were Hannibal Lecter…or something…” She mumbled, rubbing her head anxiously.

“You will let me know when the lambs stop screaming, won’t you?” He asked, creepily running a hand through her hair and sniffing it.

“Get away,” she pushed his face away and studied her surroundings. “A I…in your apartment? How did I get here?”

He laughed happily, like this was a story he had been waiting a lifetime to tell.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” He added an extra bout of laughter to the end and Juvia blushed profusely.

“No I didn’t! You’re lying!” She said hotly.

“Ha – I wish I was lying. If I didn’t have to take your lazy-ass home, I would’ve made it to home base with that hot blonde at the bar, damn did she ever have-“

“Oh, shut up, I don’t care about your bar tramp.” She brushed her shirt off and frowned. “Did I…actually…”

“Yup. You looked kinda sick so I went to ask you what was wrong, and boom – you went down like the Hindenburg.” He recalled.

“Huh. Don’t remember that at all.” Juvia said dizzily.

“So…” Gray started, looking anywhere but at her. “How’ve you been…doing?”

Fine. Absolutely fine.” She answered with a signature scowl.

“Really? You seemed a little…pissed…after the break-up…”

“Yeah well no shit.” She snapped, looking sourly out the window and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“Well, I guess we can still be fri-“

“Don’t belittle me,” she sniffed, “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Right, right.” Gray corrected himself smoothly. “Do you…uh…need anything?”

“Water, please.” She requested without making eye contact.

“Ok,” he stood up and walked away. Satisfied, Juvia got to work on her plan of action.

When Gray got back to his living room, he was just in time to see Juvia shirtless.

“Gah, what the fuck?! Warn a guy next time!” He chivalrously slapped a hand over his eyes and blindly handed her a cup of water.

“Do you have a sweatshirt I can borrow? I think somebody spilt beer on my shirt…thank you.” She took the water gratefully.

“Uh…I’ll go grab you one. And was stripping really necessary?” He asked uncomfortably. It wasn’t like she was ugly or anything, far from it in fact, but Juvia was rather vicious when it came to guys being pervs.

“Why does it matter, we aren’t dating anymore…” she said slyly.

Baffled by her logic, Gray teetered into his bedroom, hand still over his eyes, to retrieve a shirt for his guest.

“What color do you want?” He asked, mind foggy as he dug through a drawer full of crumpled sweatshirts.

“Doesn’t matter,” she called. Gray mentally slapped himself. Stupid devil woman messing with his mind.

He tiptoed back into the living room, giving it a quick once-over to make sure Juvia wasn’t naked or anything drastic. Luckily, she was only shirtless.

“Nice bra,” he managed to say as he threw the shirt at her.

“Thanks. Hey, it’s kinda tight – would you mind adjusting the strap?”

Gray froze. “You want me to…touch the…those…”

“God Gray, just help me out, would you?” She asked in annoyance.

“I mean…if you’re comfortable-“

“I’m fine, don’t be a pussy.” She berated. “Fix my boulder holder.”

Gray edged over to the side of the couch and testily touched her bra. It was lime green.

“Just move the clip down a bit.” She instructed, her hand grazing his as she pointed to the strappy-thingy.

“Uh-uh…this thing?” He asked, tugging at a strap experimentally.

Yes, god.” She groaned.

“Ok, don’t get nippy.” He griped, “you want me to loosen it, right?”

She sighed. “No Gray, tighten the shit out of it, I want my boobs to suffocate.”

He gaped. “That can happen?”

“Of course not, you idiot! Loosen it up.” She demanded.

“Oh-ok. But you gotta admit, this is a lil weird, the most I’ve done with your bra is take it off.” He remembered.

“Just loosen it before I loose my patience.” She warned.

Gray fiddled with the clip a bit. Nothing happened. Frustrated, he yanked at it and almost had a heart attack when the clip popped off.

-shit.” He mumbled, scanning the floor for the out-of-commission piece.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

“Uh…I think I broke your bra…” He admitted guiltily.

“Damn. I guess I’ll just go without.” And before Gray could react positively, she unhooked her bra and discarded it onto the ground. Gray got a good, nice look at her cream colored back and the small divets of her spine. He suddenly felt a strong urge to run his hands up and down it, to feel if it was as soft as he remembered-

Juvia grabbed the sweatshirt and threw it over her head effortlessly, covering up her back and front successfully leaving a confused, and somewhat disappointed, Gray in the dust.

“Hm…this is comfy, I think I’ll keep it…” she commented, whipping the sleeves around like squid tentacles. “Bye Gray! Thanks for catching me!” And…she was gone.

Gray, with a twisted expression on his face, sat on the couch for another fifteen minutes.

…And he was beginning to think that she fainted on purpose…

there will be a day when i stop making references to the silence of the lambs. today is not that day.