getting one for christmas

anonymous asked:

I'm so happy that SvtFoE is finally getting a Christmas episode!! This is only the second one after the Halloween episode. I really wish they'd do more, cartoon holiday specials are the best! And Star's Christmas dress already looks cute in the promo and from what I can see she's wearing white horns with a Santa hat...I think? Lol

Yeah she is a horned santa claus.

When I was little I would have given away every single thing I owned to have one of those little trains that go around the bottom of your christmas tree and today I was looking at one and thought “why can’t I have one now” and anyway long story shorter get ready for christmas tree in November feat. sick train set.

rileyloves5  asked:

If I asked Santa for a Peter Parker for Christmas do you think I would get one ?

Do I look like a fat old guy in a red suit? Hahahaha.
Hell if it works let me know! I’ll ask for one next year! Hahahaha.

anonymous asked:

Do you play videogames? ^_^

Sometimes ;w;
i used to play all the time as a kid but growing up i guess i kinda lost interest :/ i still love playing from time to time tho and i really want a nintendo switch haha maybe i’ll get one for christmas :3c

10

Little Hamsters, Big Adventures!

5

the oblivion continues

(and it starts here)

2

behind the sea // panic! at the disco

I keep seeing this cute Dad Might picture in my head – clear as a photograph, I tell you.

Just imagine: It’s winter, and cold, and for some reason, Izuku and Toshinori take the train to get home from wherever they have been. It’s already late, the train almost empty, and Izuku is freezing up. So in search for some warmth, he cuddles against Toshinori’s side. Toshinori, you have to know, is a living, walking heater. So he’s the perfect source of warmth for the freezing, tired boy.

Speaking of tired: Somehow, Izuku manages to fall asleep on Toshinori.

Toshinori startles when he realizes that Izuku is literally using him as a pillow, and spits blood in embarrassment and flustered surprise. But once he sees how content sleeping Izuku looks, he can’t bring himself to move the boy away. Instead he adjusts, making sure that the boy is comfortable leaning against his bony shoulder and not going to slip off, and proceeds to watch the lights passing by at high-speed outside.

(Or at least, he pretends to. He quickly comes to realize that watching Izuku sleeping, breathing evenly and scrunching up his nose and murmuring from time to time, is way more interesting.)

god I hate being forgetful. it’s not just forgetting homework. it’s forgetting group projects. it’s forgetting birthdays. it’s getting shit last minute christmas presents. it’s planning two things at one time and cancelling on someone. it’s leaving people alone. it’s letting people down. it’s letting everyone down and I hate it.

MatPat: *takes a deep breath*

MatPat: i lo-

Jason: yes, you love Stephanie, we know, you love Stephanie so much, she’s the light of your life, you love her so much, you just love Stephanie we KNOW, you love Stephanie you fucking love Stephanie okay we know, we get it, YOU LOVE STEPHANIE FUCKING PATRICK. WE GET IT.

shiv

///


November 14th.
In the coffee shop,
the man in the
Make America Great Again hat
smiles at me, so I take this
as an invitation.


“Pardon me, but I have to ask—
do you think Trump’s
ideologies keep every person
in this country safe?“


He doesn’t hesitate.


“Ma’am, I can’t get wrapped up
in identity politics, all I can
worry about is how
I’m going to feed my girls.”


///


At my 40th birthday party,
an acquaintance asks
why we have “so much
Mexican art in the house.”

“It might be because I’m Mexican,” I say.

“No,” he laughs, “you’re not Mexican.”

“Yes. I am.”

“No,” he continues, reassuringly,
“and if you are, you’re only, maybe, 17%.“

The winter air stiffens between us.
An old, familiar pain.


///


There was a time when I
would have thanked him.


The early years,
when I wanted only to pass,
to rid myself of my last name—
the dead giveaway,
its muddy lineage


crawl out from the burying shame
that held me down every time
my father picked me up
from school in our shitty car,
his bushy mustache
& brown face
magnified by the sun.


///


A local white woman
posts a photo of her new tattoo:
a Mayan god etched eternal
on her flesh. When I point out
the disrespect, she assures me
she speaks Spanish fluently,
spent three years
in South America.


For the next six hours,
I argue with her friends.
They demand I quit being so
divisive. Judgemental. Close-minded.


“We have a racist running for President,
and you’re complaining about a tattoo?”
asks the white boy, who spray paints
murals all over this city
with impunity.


O, to be permitted the luxury
of only worrying about one thing at a time.


O, to be white in America,
to wake up knowing every god is your god.


///


When you never see yourself,
you search for yourself all the time.


You know the white girl
in the sombrero isn’t you.
The bro dude in Calavera makeup
isn’t either, not the ponchos
and glued on mustaches,
not the lowrider Chevy
in the Disney movie
or the hoochie-coochie
sex pot on the Emmy
award-winning television show.


Maybe you are only this:


the scorched bird pulled
from the chimney,
covered in soot.
Not the actual bird,
its velvet sack
of jigsaw’d bones,
but the feeling
of recognition.


The ash of knowing.


///


A white comedian tells this joke:
“I used to date Hispanics,
but now I prefer consensual.”


The audience laughs.
And you do, too.
Until the punchline hardens,
translates into a stone
in your throat.


You swallow it, like you always do.


You don’t change the channel,
but you also can’t remember
a single joke she tells after that.


A few months later, the comedian’s career
blows up. She’s so real. So edgy.
Such a hardcore feminist.
When someone writes an essay on
her old stand-up routines—
noting her blindspot when it comes to race,


her response is:


“It is a joke and it is funny.
I know that because people laugh at it.”


///


If two Mexicans are in a car, who is driving?
A police officer.


How do you starve a Mexican?
Put their food stamps in their work boots.


What’s the difference between a Mexican and an elevator?
One can raise a child.


What do you call a Mexican baptism?
Bean dip


How do you stop a Mexican from robbing your house?
Put a help wanted sign in the window.


What do you call a Mexican driving a BMW?
Grand theft auto


What do you call a Mexican without a lawnmower?
Unemployed


What do you call a building full of Mexicans?
Jail


How do you keep Mexicans from stealing?
Put everything of value on the top shelf.


What do you call a bunch of Mexicans running downhill?
A mudslide.


Why don’t Mexicans play Hide ’n Seek?
No one will look for them.


What does a Mexican get for Christmas?
Your TV.


What do you call the Arizona man shot to death
by his white neighbor, screaming, “Go back to Mexico!”
Juan Varela


///


November 29th.
For weeks, I’ve avoided
eye contact with strangers.
My face is a closed curtain.
My mouth, the most
decorated knife.
I pay for groceries,
grab the receipt &
let my half-hearted
thank yous trail like smoke.
I no longer want to see
who refuses to see me.


Anyone is everyone.


///


December 1st.
I keep waking up.
There isn’t anyone
white enough to stop me.


Pantomime the living until
the body remembers:
wicked bitch. Bloodwhirl.
Patron Saint of the Grab Back.


Still. Still. Still. Still. Still. Still here.


///


I etch my own face upon my wicked flesh.
I am my own devastating god.

 


Rachel McKibbens, Dec. 2016

ok so i was gonna fic this but it’s been sitting in my drafts half-written for months, so take this bullet point fic instead:

  • the foxes try to have a reunion of sorts every year or so
  • they don’t always make it but everyone puts in some type of effort to come
  • they all get together for real after the US Court announcements go out bc goddamn we need to celebrate this right??
  • everyone is just catching up, sharing news
  • dan and matt are married
  • nicky and eric are married
  • aaron and katelyn are married and expecting a kid
  • dan starts joking around bc ‘looks like everyone’s married except neil and andrew’
  • except it’s not really a joke bc to be honest, no one is quite sure if they are still, in fact dating. bc no paparazzi has caught them together yet which is like. unheard of in the exy world. if two professional players are fucking everyone knows like, instantly
  • and it’s been literally years
  • so there’s no way theyre still dating right?
  • (only Renee knows the truth bc they needed a witness)
  • (she’s the only one who gets a christmas card from them
    • (it’s a phone picture of andrew holding Sir and neil holding King. the cats are trying to escape. no one is smiling. it’s the background on her phone.)
  • anyway, neil when dan says that neil gets a Look in his eye
  • “hey andrew” he says. 
  • “what”
  • “want to get married?”
  • “nah”
  • everyone else: wait, you’re actually still dating?
  • neil internally: oh now we can Really fuck with them now
  • neil externally: no we’re not dating. haven’t been for years
  • nicky freaks out bc “I KNEW IT, IT WAS HATE SEX EVERYONE HERE OWES ME $200″
  • things calm down eventually and the topic moves on
  • that’s when neil goes in for the kill
  • “andrew, sweetheart, get me a beer?”
  • andrew, who knows exactly what’s going on: “sure thing babe” and kisses him on the way out
  • it’s mass chaos
  • as the rest of the foxes are screaming, nicky manages to say “wait you said you weren’t dating!”
  • “we aren’t”
  • andrew returns, handing neil his beer and planting a kiss on his head
  • “we’re married”
  • fin
  • epilogue: rip in peace to nicky who had to give back all that money and live on forever Renee who took all that money + $700 more
8

I know it’s Christmas and I don’t want to be posting this first thing but…

I couldn’t sleep and I go on Twitter and I see this shit.

And I’m really sad now.

. @thisiseverydayracism @thisiswhiteculture @mixedgirlrants