By January there will people who can binge watch the entire Yuri on Ice episode from 1-12 in less than a day and these people wouldn’t feel the agony of thinking how gay the next episode will be for an entire week.
It was lying in the bottom of the box, after all the other baubles and detritus of a former life were cleared away. Some binned, some carefully repackaged and placed in places of honor around Baker Street, and some hidden away under carefully indexed socks never to again see the light of day.
It took Sherlock a moment to recognize the non-descript paper. After all there was nothing really outstanding about it: folded three times, slightly yellowed around the edges with time, crumpled like the owner had held it tightly in their fist before giving it up. When he did realize what it was he was seeing, it was with a slight tremor that he reached into the box to retrieve it, lifting it with a care usually reserved for handling dangerous corrosive chemicals. Unfurling the paper he slowly scanned the contents, taking note of the sloppy scrawl, a child’s writing only later maturing into the slightly-less sloppy block printing that would be used to comment on everything from tobacco ash to shopping lists. Backward S’s making him smile, he traced each one carefully as he remembered the events that led him to write this letter.
Another fight. Could one really call it a fight if It were one-sided? But another split lip, skinned knees, ripped hem. Other children it seemed would never understand him. He always vowed to try to be more like those he spied running and playing and jumping, but something always gave him away. Some trace of “wrongness” that either came from his manner, or most often, his mouth.
It was Mycroft who found him that time. Home from School for Winter Holiday, he dusted him off and asked him why he cared so about what they thought.
“I’m lonely,” Sherlock remarked. “I want a friend. Just one friend who will never leave. Even you left.”
Mycroft looked stricken for one moment before gathering Sherlock to him in an awkward hug, “I’m sorry Little Bee.”
“Myc, do you think if I ask Father Christmas for a friend, he’ll bring me one?”
Mycroft hid his watery smile behind his hand, “It’s worth a try, William. I’ll help you write a letter.”
And so Sherlock had sat down at his writing desk and with Mycroft’s help composed a letter to Father Christmas asking for someone to watch over him, a friend to play pirates with, who would listen to his stories and never leave. He folded it three times and grasping it tightly to his chest, asked if Mycroft would please post it the next day.
Sherlock had no doubt Mycroft had held his word, for there on Christmas morning was a beautiful Irish Setter puppy, whom Sherlock promptly named Redbeard. And when Mycroft left again for school, Sherlock had Redbeard to whisper his secrets to, and cuddle during storms. And it didn’t matter that no one else wanted to play pirates with him because Redbeard was his first mate.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. The day Sherlock lost his only friend, he decided that friends were silly anyway, and no one would ever hold his heart again. Friends were for stupid boys named William, and Sherlock was going to face the world alone.
Sherlock looked down again at the letter in his hands. Mycroft had kept it all these years, tucked away with his important files and papers, the only box that contained any family information. Why this letter? He’d dearly love to ask him. It seemed now he’d give anything for Mycroft to sweep into 221 with his arrogant manner when for so long it was a annoying imposition. But that was as unlikely to happen as Redbeard to come bounding in the flat so best to stop that train of thought immediately.
“Sherlock, you finish that last box - what’s wrong?”
“Just old ghosts, John, something I’d forgotten.”
“Sherlock?” John kneeled down by Sherlock’s side, hands reaching out to rest on Sherlock’s knee. Strong hands, used to defend, to protect, to treat, and to love. Sherlock smiled as he watched the firelight play off the band on John’s hand, the same glint that matched his own.
“Something you want to talk about, love?”
“It’s nothing John,” Sherlock replied as he leant down to brush their lips together tenderly. Once twice, a kiss for his husband, his lover, his friend. “It’s just that I realize Father Christmas really does exist.”
Genji: very over-the-top affection but with a very thoughtful twist; think a messily hand-sewn teddy bear that looks like his s/o, and gifted in a box that substitutes normal stuffing paper with hundreds of tiny slips of affectionate phrases on them
McCree: the classic romantic sop, just as you’d expect. Huge teddy bear, three colors of rose bouquets (red, pink, and white), petals strewn all over the floor. He cooks a nice candlelit dinner and puts the most romantic, soft country music he can find on the record player.
Pharah: she’s a little less good at being showy, but Mercy gives her hints both romantiac and plantonic, depending on how you ship them. (personally, PHARMERCY FTW!) She’s probably going to dress up in a suit and insist a bit more aggressively that she pays for dinner. The real fun begins when they return home ;)
Reaper: He’s the one who taught McCree all that soppy crap, so you’d expect him to be even showier, right? Actually, he’s more heartfelt than anything- minimalist, but with meaning. He’ll take off his mask over dinner (their favorite dishes, no matter how bland he may find them) and raises a glass of lamb’s blood a fine red, saying, “There will be no single day that I love you more than another, cariño, but today we can remember some of the best moments.” There will definitely be slow dancing afterward, and very soft cuddling. If they want to take it further, he will do anything they please tonight.
Soldier76: There will be no going out- all his suits are from his golden days, so someone would be bound to recognize him. Not that anyone would ever complain about his food- it’ll be hard getting to the couch after he;s done serving all four courses. He takes his time getting all done up in a suit and shaving his stubble for the dinner, but what will probably end up happening is him changing into sweats and cuddling with them immediately afterward. His presents are always a little extra to make up for his tiredness, stuff along the lines of Genji’s, but with neater stitching.
Sombra: She get’s some good tricks up her sleeve for this one; imagine having almost every singer, band, composer and producer at your disposal (literally, with the amount of blackmail she has on literally every and any celebrity.) She has somehow found a way to collect a handful of every single flower on this side of the ocean decorating the restaurant she’s reserved- and probably bought out- for the night. It’s undoubtedly some penthouse-suite, 3-Michelin Star type of restaurant, with a menu she has personally customized to fit the tastes of her boo.
Tracer: She zips all around King’s Row trying to book a reservation at a fancy restaurant before Valentine’s Day. But let’s be real, she’s probably doing this at 5:00 on Valentine’s Day, so there probably won’t be a reservation open until 12 am. Exasperated, she throws on a suit and video-calls Winston, begging him to guide her through a basic dinner to make before her S/O gets home. By the time they’re home, Winston is in tears on the other end of the line, and Lena’s suit is covered in flour and soy sauce and Gods know what else- but it’s still a sweet gesture. Who knew that she could steal a rose that fast?
Hanzo: He lays out a simple, elegant display. Red and white roses, a silken tablecloth, one of his old well-tailored numbers in a red that accents his new gold nose bar. He lays out a red carpet- where does he even get these things? It astounds everyone- and is thankful that takeout from fancy restaurants is now a thing. He’s awkward during dinner, but makes up for it by giving an even more awkward speech professing his love and dedication for his S/O after his hastily made dessert (which was probably vanilla ice cream with Hershey’s syrup drizzled elegantly on top.) It’s the thought taht counts, right?
Junkrat: Have you seen those photos of a thousand dominos falling down to form a huge heart and the words “I Love You” in some ridiculous calligraphy font that can only be seen from and airplane? yeah, he does that, but with gunpowder somehow. And the plane is just his Concussion Mine, but he ‘s holding his S/O when it goes off so they see it together.
Mei: She painstakingly carves an ice sculpture of something basic, like two swans with their heads dipped in a heart. That’s all she does. It takes up all of her time, and honestly, she cares more about the swans than she does her S/O’s reaction to them at the end of the night.
Torbjorn: What is love? Love isn;t real. Not for this goblin.
Widowmaker: She doesn’t even notice taht it’s Valentine’s day until her S/O brings it up. When they do, all she really does is shrug and mumble, “It is not a real holiday, anyway. Just an advertisement.” However, she betrays her own aloofness by immediately grabbing for and kissing them after she says this, which will (as usual) lead to very sensual things happening ;))))))))
D.Va: SHE IS ONLY 19, SHE WILL GAME WILL HER BOO ALL DAY. The mech will be programmed to do the heart emote over and over until it self-destructs.
Reinhardt: He likes to say that going to Valentine’s Day dinner at some fancy restaurant would attract too much attention since he’s a living legend, but he’s really more hesitant because he’s always tired lately. What’ll probably happen is him dressed up nice and kicking Torbjorn out of his own house as a romantic, homey setting.
Roadhog: He cooks a five-course meal that somehow has meat in every single one of the dishes… even the dessert. Nothing unusual, except that he’s cleaned up a little bit (nicer clothes, maybe a suit if he really has that much energy) and might keep his mask off for longer than usual whilst eating. I headcanon Roadie as being the kind of like baths and bedttime right after dinner, so perhaps he has stolen a bath bomb from Widowmaker to make the bath tonight a bit more luxurious for his boo. As an extra course, he stole some top-quality chocolates for them during his daily escapades with Junkrat, and will probably nudge them to share during the bath as well.
Zarya: She and her S/O spend the day out helping others in her hometown, which is what Zarya spends most of her time doing on a regular day. Today, she insists on spending a bit more on food for the homeless couples they encounter, as well as on chocolates for the children. However, due to the help of certain old compatriots, no matter how late they arrive home together, the apartment will be decorated at least half-decently. The roses will be half wilted and the dinner cold, but it won’t matter. She’ll style her hair up a little and slap on some formalwear for a dinner they’ll dine on half asleep together.
Ana: She writes Fareeha and sends some cheesy card she ordered off of whatever version Etsy of the Overwatch era has. If she has a S/O, they’ll probably get about the same treatment, along with a simple dinner. She’s not one to go all-out, and she’ll probably have a S/O who understands her not needing to. She doesn;t need to be flashy in order to make her affections known.
Lucio: He’ll go around the same route as Zarya, but on epic high-speed skates instead. And he’ll definitely have enough energy to quite literally zi[ them around to some high-tech new restaurant at the end of the night, so they can try something new together. That will also carry on into later hours….
Mercy: She will make time for her S/O on Valentine’s Day even if she’s half a world away from them on call. There will be some awkward videocall dinner, at the very least. However, if they’re together, she pulls a Tracer and rushes some presents, probably even running to Genji for a messy teddy bear commission.
Symmetra: Let’s talk about the kind of fancy, over-the-top arrangements she’ll make with her tech, while completely disregarding the actual dinner bit of the day. Presents are no problem, arrangements are barely worth a second of concern, but she completely forgets that food can;t be made with hard-light technology. Guess it’s a takeout kinda night.
Honestly I don’t like the ‘science as vocation’ idea that is so pervasive in how we talk about science. Like it’s completely cool if you view it as your vocation but think that the idea that it’s a vocation for everyone is somewhat harmful.
Because it helps to justify and support the exploitation of non tenured workers (particularly grad students and postdocs). The idea being that we love science so much that we’ll put up with horrible working conditions just to get to do it. If science is more than just our job, if it’s our calling, than who cares if we work 80 hours and week and have no work/life balance? We are grateful to just be able to do what we love.
Science isn’t my vocation. It’s not my calling. It’s my job. It’s a job that I enjoy, sure, but it’s a job. And I want to be able to have hobbies outside of it. And not feel guilty for not working 12 hour days all the time. And I don’t think that’s so unreasonable to ask.
I also think that presenting science as just another job, exactly as important and demanding as all jobs, with it’s particular requirements sure, but not inherently different or better than, say, being a tax accountant, will help people outside of science understand it better. Because it makes us regular people and not academic elites so removed from the public that we’re not part of it.
Anyways I’m tired of the idea that science is somehow inherently ~~~special~~~ and so much better than everything else and that we should sacrifice ourselves at it’s altar just to be given the chance to purse it.
This is a challenge hosted by @waywardlullabies
! I was given 12 prompts, one for each of the 12 days of Christmas. I
have taken the prompts and turned them into a fluffy, smutty, feels-y
love story about Sam Winchester and Jody Mills, and I hope you love them
as much as I do! (Also, shout out to my loves @unadulteratedstorycollector and @littlegreenplasticsoldier for their general wonderfulness.)
AU – Mike’s out celebrating making junior partner, and Harvey’s out celebrating being his awesome self. He hasn’t seen Mike around before, because he’d certainly remember him. But Mike knows who he is, of course. Who doesn’t know who Harvey Specter is in the legal world?
Day two of my 12 days of Christmas fic series! Hope you enjoy!
You’re feeling a little lonely this Christmas, it seems like everywhere you turn there are happy couples and families enjoying the holidays. Unbeknownst to you, Steve feels the same way, alone. Your friends can clearly see that you have feelings for each other and try to convince you both to ask the other out. Tony throws his annual Christmas party and he is more determined than ever to get the two of you to admit your feelings for one another. So, he fills the rest of the team in on his plan and they agree. It was guaranteed to be an interesting night.
Ups, downs, ups, downs
I’m thankful for the days where I feel like myself, even if I know they will pass. It is nice to touch base with who I am, it helps me remember not to abandon myself on days where my disorder is front and center and my face is swollen with wounds. I’m still me, I gotta grasp that. I have to keep that with me.
I hope you’re having a nice night:)