Excuse-Me-Mr

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No Doubt- Excuse Me Mr.

from Tragic Kingdom (1995)


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“…But, I still don’t get it,” Sherlock says, and John swallows back a laugh at hearing those words come out of his mouth. “What is the point of calling it ‘Boxing Day?’” Sherlock twirls his hands to form dramatic speech marks. “Do people throw boxes at each other? Sleep in cardboard boxes for the night? Whip out their boxing gloves- what?!”

John shakes his head and snorts. “For the last time, Sherlock, I don’t know. My mum always called it ‘Leftovers Day.’”

Sherlock pouts. “We don’t have any leftovers because of you.”

John pretends to look scandalised. “Excuse me, you and Mrs H were bloody piranhas with those roast potatoes.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, my love.”

John’s heart skips a little. Just hearing endearments like that, even if half in jest, means the world.

He reaches across the couch and kisses Sherlock on the mouth, then gives his nose a tiny peck. “I’ll forgive the potato hogging if we watch It’s A Wonderful Life,” he says in his best wheedling tone.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. But, he’s still smiling of course, and John already knows he’s won. “John, it’s not Christmas anymore, it’s Boxing Day.”

“New rule.” John stands to fetch the DVD. “All Christmas films are permitted watching material until we ring in the New Year.”

“If you insist.”

The film is put on, and the eating of any existent or non existent leftovers is temporarily forgotten. Sherlock silently tears up at “George Bailey, I’ll love you until the day I die,” and John pulls him close for a long, soft kiss.

When they break apart, Sherlock lays his head on John’s chest and stretches out. John strokes his hair and Sherlock’s eyelids droop and droop and droop until he slips into sleep.

And John knows this is what Boxing Day is about, as the film continues, and Sherlock sleeps on: these slow, gentle moments.

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No Doubt- “Excuse Me Mr.”- Rockin Rio, Las Vegas 5/8/15

Reasons why the Nordics didn't sleep last night

Denmark: He read every single Creepypasta and he cried.

Sweden: He could hear anime openings through the wall thanks Iceland.

Norway: excuse me but mr lukas bondevik always gets his beauty sleep otherwise he won’t wake up looking flawless

Finland: aLMOST CHRISTMAS BREAK OUT THE HOLLY TIME TO GET FESTIVE

Iceland: He binge watched all of Free!

Why a Hamilton? - Part 1

Character: Jefferson X Reader
Prompt: The witty and quick mouthed reader may be siblings with Alexander Hamilton, but with kindled feelings for Thomas Jefferson become too much, Alex has to put a stop to this.
Word Count: 2,104
W/T: Yelling?
A/N: Fluff turned into a bit angst really works out nicely, hm? I’m not sure how many parts will be to this story, so just keep your eyes peeled. Hope y'all enjoy!
~SJ

———

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Washington, Mr. Hamilton, but if I may, I wish to say something to Jefferson.” You inquire, smoothing out your dress as you rose from your seat, rather heated about the current debate between your brother-Alexander Hamilton-, and Thomas Jefferson. “By all means, go right ahead, Y/N.” Washington replies, a sound of relief in his voice for having someone other than himself break up their argument. “Thank you, sir.” You curtsy, before turning to Thomas and Alex. “Prepare to be put to shame, Jefferson.” Alex smirks, only gaining a glare from the magenta clothed man. Thomas turns back to you, the usual flirtatious smile you see him wearing when he’s around you apparent. “Whatchya need, kitten?” He purrs, leaning towards you, waiting to be amused.

“First off, you keep speaking of equality among the people, but I surely don’t see how you can say that without making women apart of this? For without us, we most certainly wouldn’t have won the war, because so many men’s lives would’ve been lost, all because they didn’t get the right medical attention. Secondarily, you continue to dance around the topic of women as a whole. Is there something about that that is unsettling to you? That we are not a bunch of simple-minded, dress fancyin’ people who can reproduce? That we are as intelligent and well versed and spoken as most any men? Because frankly, my dear, women should have every and all rights that men are given. We have come so far from where started, gender segregation should not still exist with what progress we’ve made. Thirdly, I appreciate your futile attempts at using your devilish looks and sly tongue to persuade people, I really do, because they don’t seem to be working all that well, don’t you think?”

A heavy silence lingers in the air for a moment as you finish, taking a deep breath, not realizing you had been holding it. A satisfactory smile creeps into your lips as you catch a glimpse of Thomas’ awestruck face. “You… He’s speechless, Y/N.” Alex breathes into your ear, his amazement very apparent in his voice. Washington beams at you for having done what you did. Alex had always told you that Washington sees you two as his own kids, and with the way he was smiling, he look like a proud parent. “I-uh…” Thomas stutters, fumbling with his own tongue. “Oh?” You begin to mock. “Has the high and mighty Thomas Jefferson been knocked off his pedestal he so kindly placed himself on?” Thomas again opens his mouth, but he is quickly stopped by his counterpart, James Madison, who places his own hand over Thomas’ gaping mouth. “Could we take a recess, your excellency?” He calmly asks, a hint of embarrassment laced into his words. Washington nods, rising from his chair at the head of the table. “Yes, I do say a brief recess is in order after that massive onslaught from Hamilton.” He agrees, turning towards the courtyard door. “Everyone meet back in here in ten, that way we can go ahead and finish the meeting for the day.”

The majority of the room files out, leaving you and Alexander together, along with Madison and Jefferson, who sat across the way, Jefferson’s expression still looking pretty lost. “I can’t believe you actually did that, Sis. That takes a lot of guts, especially against that magenta asshat over there.” Alex laughs, scowling as he mentions Thomas. “Oh, it’s nothing, I do that kind of stuff to him all of the time.” You answer, leaning back in your chair. “Wait, what do you mean, ’all of the time`?” Alex questions, his face scrunching together slightly in confusion. “You know, when I’m around him, talking to him, teasing him? That’s the way I talk to him sometimes? That way he will shut up for a little bit?” You offer, your own answers becoming questions at the changing mood on your brother’s face. “You mean to tell me you willing talk to the Francophile?” Alex accuses, his head jerking back in surprise. “Yeah? Why? It’s not like I have any resentment against him.” You answer, careful about the words you pick.

You didn’t want your brother knowing that you had some pretty strong feelings for Thomas. It’s been that way since the first time you two had met. His overly flirtatious greeting to you rewarded him with a very witty comeback, leaving him dazed by the sudden attack. Ever since then, you two would talk for hours about anything and everything after Cabinet Meetings. Alexander would always become suspicious of your lingering, but Washington was always kind enough to get you out of those situations.

“Um, yes you do.” Alex quickly corrects, his tone serious. “I hate him, so there for the Hamilton’s hate him, so therefore you hate him as well.” “Oh lord, you really are the hardheaded one here, aren’t you?” You giggle, leaning back in your chair, the bright magenta color from across the table catching your eye. Your gaze shifts towards its movement, and you are greeted with almost the same sight as before, except Thomas’ look was a little less astonished. “What’s this? The exquisite Thomas Jefferson has been found at a loss for words? Did the cat get your tongue while you let your mouth hang open?” You taunt, his attention quickly turning from James to you. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N here were to replace you in the office, Jefferson. She seems to know what she’s talking about more than you do.” Alex chimes in, seeing as he had a free shot at his nemesis. “Oh, don’t be like that yet, Al.” You interrupt, ready to shut him down. “I have plenty of things to say to you, but I’ll hold my tongue until we depart home.”

Alexander blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in astonishment. “Excuse me?” He asks in a rather offended tone, flabbergasted by your sudden comment to him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you knew that he was going to start going off on everyone at that point. Without hesitating, you reach out and snatch the collar of his coat, pulling him towards you in such an excessive manner, that Alex’s chair scoots forward a bit, the sound echoing around the almost empty board room. You lean in far enough that your mouth is directly next to his ear, and he sits frozen, both startled and confused by your sudden action. “Alex, I’m only going to say this once.” You breathe, your voice almost too quiet to be heard. “You need to shut your mouth for once. You are not the one trying to get Thomas’ attention at the moment.” On the last comment, Alexander’s head jerks backward, a look of horror and disgust scrawled all across his face. “What do you mean by that?!” He mouths, exaggerating his anger by flailing his hands around. You raise your index finger up to keep him silent, now turning your attention back to the curly haired man across the table from you.

His attitude has changed drastically, the small “o” shape his mouth made earlier was now replaced with his trademarked and ever elusive smirk, and his chin was resting on his folded hands, his eyes clearly displaying how amused he was by the sibling argument. “My my,” Thomas chuckles, tilting his head slightly, “ it’s funny how easy it is to see the resemblance between you two when you act like that with each other.” “Yes, it is quite easy isn’t it?” You laugh, a load of responses flying about your mind. “I mean, with your well groomed hair and out of control temper, it could only be assumed that I, the witty and collected Y/N Hamilton, was related to Alexander, who happens to share very similar qualities.” Alex turns to you, his face utterly distorted by confusion. He again opens his mouth to say something, but you simply push your index finger into his cheek, forcing his head to turn the other way. “Now now, Y/N, don’t get to ahead of yourself here. Would it help that clever mind of yours to remind you that you’re not of Washington’s office?” Jefferson counters, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Oh? You think you have me wrapped around your finger, Thomas? Well, you’re going to have to do better than that, especially if you’re messing with a Hamilton. I’ll have you know that I have Alexander under my th- hey!” You gasp angrily, your brother quickly grabbing ahold of your arm and tugging you along with him to the opposite side of the room.

“Pardon my French, but what the fuck was that, Y/N?” Alex practically yells at you, his right foot tapping vigorously against the wooden floor, his eyes bearing down on you. “What do you mean, ‘what the fuck was that’ Alex? I was just poking fun at Jefferson. Isn’t that what you want me to do?” You reply, your voice now just as angry sounding than your brother’s. “No, no, no. That was not just ‘poking fun’ at Jefferson, Y/N. There was something more in it than that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s like there was-” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lie, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to know about what goes on between you and Thomas. That’s not his right to know. Alex’s eyes shoot open, narrowing themselves at you.

“Do you have feelings for Jefferson?”

You open your mouth to object, but nothing comes out. Not a word, not a sound, nothing. You’ve never once been found at a loss for words with your brother. Your cheeks start to flush with heat, and you automatically cast your eyes away from Alex, which was definitely not the answer he was looking for. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” He groans in realization, pressing a hand to his forehead and shoving the other one into a pant pocket. “It’s not what you think!” You manage to squeak out, your throat closing up on itself. “Not what I think? Not. What. I. Think?” Alex emphasizes, his face getting closer and closer to yours, making the warmth of your cheeks only steadily worse. “Y/N M/N Hamilton. You did not answer me when I asked you about your opinion on Jefferson, and man we’ve both despised since the beginning. Your face has grown red at the very mention of his name, and you refused to make eye contact with me!” Alexander spits, his voice furious and hot with hatred. “I didn’t despise him from the beginning, thank you very much.” You hiss back, almost immediately regretting your decision and quick tongue. “I’m sorry Al, I didn-” “Courtyard. Now. You are not allowed back here so long as Jefferson still holds office.” Alexander commands, his hand now pointing towards the door, stiff and rigid. “But-” “Y/N.” He says once more, cutting you off. You knew there was no chance at winning when Alexander gets this way. Hell, you’ve only seen him like this one other time, and that was during the war when his best friend Laurens refused to do as his general said, and ultimately got into a duel.

Tears sting the back of your eyes as you hang your head, bundle your dress up in your hands a bit, and slowly trudge towards the courtyard. You refuse to let Alex see that he’s made you cry. He doesn’t need to know. But instead, a glint of magenta catches your eye once again, bringing your attention back to Thomas for a moment. He sits the exact same he has been, the familiar smile with dazzling white teeth that you knew you had fallen for flashing at you. You muster enough strength to return a weak smile, not wanting to break down.

But this only makes it worse.

Thomas’s face falls, his expression melting from collected to concerned. He abruptly stands up, his chair creating the same screeching noise that Alex’s did earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, a strangled gasp escaping you for a moment before you duck your head back down and continue on your path, with a much faster pace. “Y/N?” Thomas calls out, his voice sounding hurt, confused. You bite your lip to keep yourself from sobbing, and squeeze your eyes shut, tears gushing from them. Thomas calls your name again, but it’s joined with Alexander’s voice now, each progressively getting louder.

Why did you have to be a Hamilton?

anonymous asked:

Lucio main (120ish hrs). I almost n e v e r get upvotes on my healing cards because "Lucio just exists." Excuse me, Mr., next time I won't speed boost you out of a Pharah ult and then hide near you to heal you while you spam the need heals button. We'll see whether or not you appreciate my existence then!

Lucio is actually pretty hard to play right imho. I have a few hours with him and timing healing vs speed boosts is crucial, especially towards endgame, same with ult timing.

A well played Lucio can change the entire direction of the game

Excuse me, Mr. Jeon Jungkook... Every TaeKook/VKook shipper is patiently waiting for your tweet regarding Tae’s birthday

Don’t disappoint us, boy.

Originally posted by sehuns-bubblebum