this is the man i want for christmas

whispers so i had this dream where the muppets were doing yet another christmas special (not sure who the guest star was but the setup was similar to the lady gaga show) and in one scene, piggy was singing ‘all i want for christmas is you’ and rowlf was playing backup and every now and then, she’d glance over at him and she booped him on the nose at one point and it was ridiculously cute and then i woke up like: aww man ;-;

4

Merry (late) Christmas to @haikujitsu!!! I made this comic from this amazing drabble that brought joy into my life. I hope you like it, sorry it’s late! I hope your Christmas was amazing, and I wish you a happy new year!! <3

9

nico you’re the sweetest brother ever

i was watching victorious yesterday and this scene came up (it’s from 03x02) and lazel was the only thing in my head when i saw it - in more of the friendship way, but im totally cool with this ship - i mean this is something leo would do, right? and that would be hazel’s reaction, i’m sure!!

so leo came along with jason to visit camp jupiter before christmas and revealed he’s hazel’s secret santa - cause all of them love playing this on christmas. i believe that leo would give the most creative presents!!

things i wanted to point out: jason’s outfit (which was also inspired by victorious). reyna smiling at leo in the name of my leyna shipper’s days - still on it btw. frank smiling at leo. cause cmon they ARE cute buddies. and nico’s funny outfit. yep. nico is everyone’s candy man

7

A Tennant/Tate Celebration 

Interviewer:  “You can’t stay apart.”
David:  “We can’t, no.”
Catherine:  “No, we tried.”

David:  “We’ve always enjoyed working together… specifically working together as well as hanging out.”

A gif-tastic update of this old post o’ mine

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

summersaltturn  asked:

"Have anyone told you you have the most intimidating nostrils I've ever seen?"

“Yeah, I won an award, junior year,” Derek answers, frowning at his new IKEA (bought and built, all in a soft Henley sweater; Stiles knows, he supervised) book-shelf, like he hasn’t just finished a seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts. A seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts alone.

Derek Hale: epic nerd and assembler of easy-to-build IKEA products. Of course, Stiles thinks, cursing his stupid Professor and DIY kinks. Why not? The worst part is, he doesn’t even think those kinks are sexual. It’s just….a thing. That he has. A Derek thing. The Butterflies That Live In His Stomach were trying so desperately to move on with their lives, too. They’d shopped around. Hired a real-estate agent. They were ready, goddammit!  

Derek settles on a book - Stiles is pretty sure it also has the word ‘artefacts’ in the title - and sighs, all feigned nostalgia, and glances over his shoulder. “It was a golden nose, too. Across the bottom it said,” he pauses, grinning, “Stiles Stilinski needs to get a life.”

Stiles opens his mouth, clutches his chest, because rude much? Is it his fault Derek’s nostrils belong in some kind of anatomy museum? Is it his fault his Saturday nights are spent playing video games in his underwear, when his week days are spent chasing down monsters and researching things like how Scott and Erica managed to contract chicken pox when stabbing them does, like, nothing? (Except get Erica excited because she’s a beautiful, terrifying weirdo.) The moment he tries to tell Derek this, however, a copy of - is that Pride and Prejudice? - is thrown at his head. 

Stiles doesn’t know if he’s more offended when Derek rolls his eyes when it misses him, or the concerned look that crosses his face when the book sails past him and lands in an empty pizza box, like Derek is worried if it’s okay or not. 

And to think, Stiles was going to screw up his courage and finally invite Derek to see a movie this weekend. In an actual theatre. Where people go to be normal. Well, the laugh is on Derek because Stiles is going to buy the big popcorn and he’s going to enjoy it all on his own. 

Yeah, that’ll show him. 

~

“Has anyone ever told you your eyebrows could star in a disturbing kid’s movie about caterpillars?” 

Stiles is drunk. No, he’s wasted. Hammered. Loaded. Completely and utterly shit faced. Which is probably why instead of ending up on his ass on the floor, Derek just pinches the bridge of his nose, tips his head against the back of the couch and says, “what.” Not even a hint of inflection.

This dude, Stiles thinks, and then laughs because, ohmygod, Derek is this dude now. Not that dude or whoa, what are you doing crawling through my window, dude? but this dude. And that’s kind of beautifully heart warming, in its own way. 

Really, Stiles should write into Hallmark. It could be a trilogy. A Gay Trilogy ™. Bisexuals on ice. Except, without the ice because Stiles doesn’t know how to skate. Can Derek skate? Stiles totally bets Derek can skate.   

Speaking of Derek, he’s got this little crinkle on his forehead now, right between his eyebrows, and man, they really are very nice eyebrows. Animated but nice. A little dramatic but nice. Murderous but nice.

“What,” Derek says again, looking more confused than annoyed by the second. Stiles really wants to kiss him.

Instead, he stares. Stares and stares and stares.

Shit.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, he begins laughing uncontrollably and before he knows it, he’s clutching his sides and has his face pressed against Derek’s chest, because the hilarity is killing him. 

Because this is them now. Drinking peach-snaps at Derek’s loft, on a couch filled with throw pillows. Throw pillows. One is even soft and pink and frilly and another has a picture of the pack on it. Granted, no one is looking at the camera but Derek, Boyd and Kira and Derek is not so much looking at the camera as yelling at Stiles (holding the camera) for eating his secret stash of cookies, but it’s nice. It’s a nice picture. There is a plain black pillow too, of course. Somewhere. Stiles might be sitting on it, actually. He figures one can only expect so much when it comes to sour-wolves but Erica glued little cat ears on it last week and Derek said nothing. Fuck, he’d even smiled.

It says a lot about what a secret softie Derek is when it comes to vulnerable, drunk-ass people, because he doesn’t push Stiles away; just lets him laugh and laugh until he passes out, drooling on his chest. 

When Stiles wakes up, Derek’s sweater is pretty soaked through but he hasn’t moved an inch. He does, however, tell Stiles he snores like a deranged goose and that he owes him a pastry later.

He doesn’t even ask for a specific kind, Stiles chastises in his head, falling back to sleep. He’s in love with a pastry idiot. 

~

“Do you know when you smile, you brighten up the whole damn room?”

The question clearly catches Derek off guard because he falls head first…into a duck pond. 

Stiles’ first reaction is to jump in after him - he hates to admit it, but he gets a little nervous around water when Derek is with him; there have been several incidents where he’s unconsciously grabbed Derek’s hand in order to drag him away from pools and, one time, a very large puddle - but when Derek emerges, wearing his someone is about to die face, Stiles can’t be held accountable for the way he falls to the ground because, yup, that’s a tiny, outraged duckling perched on top of Derek’s head.   

“Oh my god,” he yells, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs in the air. He feels like a kid, grabbing his stomach, water practically pouring from his eyes. This was, quite possibly, the best day of his life.

Normally, Derek would be yelling threats - several, in fact, some in Spanish because he’s a show off - but he just stands there….in the middle of a fucking pond. The duckling is still sitting on his head, like he or she plans to set up home there and it’s so adorable Stiles thinks he actually coos out loud.

Still, Derek still doesn’t say anything. Not even when Stiles coos again, very, very deliberately. (And Scott said his middle name could never be Danger, pffft.) Stiles can’t actually guess what Derek is going to do but he doesn’t care. He looks a strange cross between wanting to murder someone - namely, Stiles - and a little kid who was told they couldn’t get a puppy only to get one on Christmas day anyway. 

Mostly, he just looks lost. And wet. Very, very wet. Somewhere out there, someone is playing It’s Raining Men and Stiles wants nothing more than to share this glorious moment with them. He’s just in the process of taking out his phone to at least snap a photo to send to the pack when - 

“Did you mean it?” Derek asks, and man, those water droplets just keep on running, don’t they. 

Stiles grins. “Did I mean for you to fall into a pond and adopt a new feathered friend? No but I think we can all agree-” 

Stiles.” 

Derek growls and it would be effective - at least in getting Stiles to help him out of the pond - if it wasn’t for the fact his ears were turning a little pink. A lot pink, actually and - 

Oh.

Sitting up, Stiles drags his butt over to the edge of the pond.

“Yeah,” he says. “I meant it. I mean, smiles can’t literally light up rooms, I know that, but when you smile it’s like…” He sighs and flaps his arms, suddenly nervous, hitting Derek in the process. The duckling practically glares at him and Stiles briefly wonders if he has competition here. 

Right. Better make this good then. He clears his throat. 

“It’s like, everything just makes sense for a little bit, you know? I look at you and it’s not that smiling is rare for you, at least not anymore, but it’s still pretty thrilling to see it and when you do I’m like, that’s some quality shit right there but then I get confused because it’s like, do I wanna punch it? Kiss it? Pet it? Who knows. Usually it depends on what you’re wearing.” 

Derek blinks and Stiles groans because, yeah, he just said that out loud. In real time. To Mr McGrumpy himself. Who is currently not reacting.

Great.

“Uh, I mean,” he attempts to correct himself but it’s too late. Derek is already slowly pulling him in and pressing his lips to his in what is the single most innocent, chaste kiss of Stiles’ life - because, you know, duckling and head movements - but somehow, it still manages to be perfect. 

“Nice,” Stiles whispers, after, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek snorts and kisses him again.

~

“Turn it off,” Derek whines, nuzzling further into Stiles’ neck. “This is why I leave my phone in the kitchen. Like we discussed.

Stiles tries to swat him, ends up kissing his temple. Sue him, he’s tired. “Says the person who can afford to leave their phone in the kitchen. We don’t all have supernatural hearing, asshole.”

Derek whines again. “You also have the worst taste in ringtones.”

Stiles gasps, suddenly sitting up. Well, he tries to. When your boyfriend is made of muscle and is half lying on top of you, it makes moving a lot more difficult. Not that Stiles is really complaining. Much. “I’ll have you know Bushes of Love is a Star Wars parody classic.”    

Derek rolls his eyes, Stiles can feel it, says, “just answer it, sweetums.” 

“Ugh,” Stiles grimaces, “I already told you I’m sorry for the pet-name thing. It was an accident!”

“Calling me your ‘slutty buddy’ in front of your dad was meant as a pet name?”

“It sounded better in my head!”  

Derek groans and wraps an “exasperated” arm around Stiles’ waist. Oh. So. Exasperated. Stiles grins. “Answer. Your. Phone.” 

Stiles finds his phone on the fifth try.

He has fifteen missed calls, all from Erica. Texts too. Every single one is a link to some article online, followed by a string of heart and eggplant emojis.   

Young Love and the Ugly Duckling’,” Stiles reads, clicking on the link. “Uhhh, Derek?” He prods him. 

What.” 

There’s a picture of us in the online Beacon Gazette,” looking into each other’s eyes, like a pair of love sick fools, Stiles wants to add because, wow, is he really that obvious when he looks at Derek? To be fair though, Derek isn’t much better and he is the one with an angry bird on his head.

He prods Derek again and again until he finally gives in, makes him look at the phone. 

“Huh,” he says, blinking at it. “Fred looks pretty pissed that I’m kissing you.” His face breaks out in a smug grin and Stiles rolls his eyes. Hard. 

“You are aware Fred is a duckling, right?” 

“Yes.” Derek grins harder, showing all his teeth, although his cheeks do colour slightly when he catches Stiles’ eye. 

Stiles sighs, totally not fond. “They couldn’t have come up with a better title, though?” he asks, brandishing his phone. “The Ugly Ducking, really?” 

Yeah,” Derek says, frowning. “I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as to call you ugly.” He laughs and Stiles smacks him across the chest with a loud, “hey!”

They both turn back to look at the picture. 

“We look so stupid,” Stiles whispers, shaking his head and biting his thumb. We fit, he thinks. We look like we fit. 

Leaning in, Derek smiles at him. “We do,” he agrees, burying his face back into the warmth of Stiles’ neck, muttering something about home and content and stupid Star Wars parodies.

Stiles snaps a selfie, captions it goals, and sends it to Erica. 

so apparently moffat wanted to leave with season 10 but old chibs didn’t want christmas to be his first episode so the bbc were like ‘aw man guess christmas is cancelled then’ but a very drunk steven moffat said NO GUYS ILL DO IT ITS FINE because its t r a d i t i o n but also because it would have meant doctor who could loose its christmas timeslot for good. 

So he went and asked capaldi to do one more episode and basically wrote yet another episode after having been trying to leave doctor who since at least 2015 like what a life

“I have pulled dead, mangled bodies from cars. I have lied to people as they were dying. I said you are going to be fine as I held their hand and watched the life fade out. I have held dying babies. Bought lunch for people who were mentally ill and haven’t eaten in a while. I have had people try to stab me. Fought with men trying to shoot me. Ben attacked by women who have had the shit kicked out of them by their husband as I was arresting him. I have held towels on bullet wounds. Done CPR when I knew it wouldn’t help just to make family members feel better. I have torn down doors, fought in drug houses. Chased fugitives though the woods. I have been in high speed car chases. Foot chases across an interstate during rush hour traffic. I have been in crashes. Been squeezing the trigger about to kill a man when they came to their senses and stopped. Waded through large angry crowds by myself. Drove like a mad man to help a fellow officer. Let little kids who don’t have much sit in my patrol car and pretend they are a cop for their birthday. I have taken a lot of people to jail. Given many breaks. Prayed for people I don’t even know. Yes and at times I have been violent when I had to be. I have been kind when I could. I admit I have drove to some dark place and cried by myself when I was overwhelmed. I have missed Christmas and other holidays more than I wanted too. Every cop I know has done all these things and more for lousy pay, suckie hours and a short life expectancy. We don’t want your pity, I don’t care for your respect. Just let us do our jobs without killing us.”

the switch

→scenario: You think you’re getting a normal Christmas present from your boyfriend Hoseok, but what he doesn’t tell you is that your gift includes a special power he and the rest of the boys have, enabling them to switch off between one another… during sex.

→pairing: bts | reader

→genre: smut

→word count: 9,085

Keep reading

genuinely good and pure sunny moments
  • “did you hear my song?” “i heard it. i loved it. great song charlie.”
  • mac giving dennis the rocket launcher
  • the entirety of dee gives birth
  • “can i bare my soul to you for a second, man?” “of course buddy.”
  • like…the entire end of the christmas episode??? frank giving everyone the presents they wanted…..everyone throwing rocks at trains together…..wholesome.
  • “hooooooooly shit!! is that the ocean??”
  • “sis, i love you.” 
  • "i think i’m out now. yeah. yeah. i-i’m gay.” 
  • anytime the gang sings.
  • the gang recreating entries in charlie’s dream book and giving him a new rat stick because they think it’s his birthday.
  • “charlie did the elephant drawings. you should keep them.” “i did those for you man.” “i like them.” “you should like them, i put a lot of work into them. and thank you for saying you like them.” 
  • charlie’s valentine’s day song to dee
  • the end of white trash when the gang cools off with the fire hydrant
  • every chardee scene in the gang misses the boat.
  • “let’s go be with the gang.”

Someone mentioned this term in a lower post where I was being harassed for refusing to argue with someone who I think is an obvious alt-right troll. I’d never heard of it before so off to urban dictionary I ran and man… It’s right on.

You do not have to engage with people like this. You don’t owe every person in your path an explanation.

This happened to me around Christmas. A guy messaged me, called me a dumb bitch, etc. I didn’t engaged with him because, why would I? He kept messaging me demanding why I didn’t respond. Citing his language to me I asked why would I want to.

He said he’d apologize if I would debate with him and answer his questions. I tried debating with him on and off for about a day. Finally it was Christmas Eve and I just realized I was getting no where so I told him that we had to agree to disagree. That angered him and said I’d promised I’d answer his questions. I’d felt like I had as best I could.

I told him again I was done.

He immediately took back his apology, resumed his insults, and essentially said that since I wouldn’t endlessly defend my case I was worthless and everything I said was worthless.

I realized then this whole conversation has been a mistake. He was willing to swear at and insult me and only apologize and show respect if I did everything he said no questions.

That was not respect and it was my mistake for not recognizing it earlier.

I’ll say again… You don’t owe everyone in your path an explanation. If you do decide to engage someone it can be on your terms.

Your worth and your beliefs don’t have to be validated by every troll under the bridge.

Curious Man - (Sherlock x reader)

Imagine: Meeting Sherlock at a store while he waits for Watson to buy a gift for Mary.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 579

Warnings: None.

A/N: I wanted to write this for the longest time and now I finally did it. It’s just a small drabble because I’m still not in shape to write a proper Sherlock fanfiction. Yet, I hope you like it.

Originally posted by dracomafloy

“Beautiful choice, very fashionable if I may say so.” A male voice interrupted you.

You were doing your early Christmas shopping, a tradition you had started the first year you moved out of your parent’s house. Basically, you would buy all kinds of gifts for yourself before the prices got up.

“Thank you, sir.” You replied with a smile as you looked to the man that had spoken.

He was tall and slim, dark locks framing his pale face and deep blue eyes analysing you.

“I’m sure your fiancé will like it.” He continued. You furrowed your eyebrows.

It was common for people to inquire that you had a boyfriend, but this man was being too specific.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a fiancé.” You giggled. The man let out a breathy sigh.

“Then why are you wearing an engagement ring?” He asked. You looked down to your hand, which in fact had an engagement ring. “Don’t be ashamed of him. It is in fact an old engagement ring, probably his mother’s ring. I can see that it looks quite unused in spite of the age of it, so I’m guessing you got recently engaged.”

You smiled in amusement. The man seemed to be a pretty smart guy, yet he was wrong.

“I’ve told you: I’m not engaged.” The blue-eyed man furrowed, not willing to believe your words.

“Come again?” He asked.

“I said: you’re wrong.” You replied. The man looked too dumbfounded not to be funny, and hell, it took you an eye and half of the other not to laugh at his face.

“How can I be wrong? It is an engagement ring, and it is on your hand in the right finger. It’s old, and yet it looks clean because you haven’t worn it much.” You nodded.

“It is in fact an engagement ring, and I am in fact wearing it correctly. It is old, true, but it looks clean because I only wear it on occasions.” The man was truly messed up.

“So you only wear it on occasions because…” Before he could make a suggestion of you being a cheater to your fiancé or a single lady wearing a fake ring to keep men away, you interrupted.

“It was my mother’s engagement ring,” you spoke, “She gave it to me a few years ago. I’m not engaged and I only wear it every now and then because I don’t want people to think I’m already taken.”

“There’s always something…” The man whispered to himself.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Nothing, never mind.” He shook the thought away with a hand gesture. “So, mind telling me why you don’t want people to think you’re taken?”

“You are a very curious man, aren’t you?” You laughed, not answering to his question.

“I am, in fact.” He responded, puffing his chest out and coking his eyebrow proudly.

“May I ask why you are so concerned about my relationship status?” You asked, smirking.

“I happen to find you very pleasing to the eye and, now, I also find you very interesting.” He answered, taking good care of his words; he sounded like he was afraid to say something wrong, yet somehow he also sounded confident.

“My name’s…”

“(Y/N).” He finished. You gasped what kind of man was he?

“How…?”

“You’re wearing a bracelet with your name on it.” He simply replied.

“What a strange man you are, Mr…” He smirked at your words.

“Holmes,” He spoke, “Sherlock Holmes.”

Mistletoe (Various Drabbles)

A/N: Happy holidays my friends! I hope you enjoy~ I know it’s not all the characters, but I only did the characters that I could think of at the top of my head. Sorry if these suck;;;


McCree:

The Overwatch Christmas party was loud like you had expected but it wasn’t bad. You were feeling a bit parched so you decided to go the kitchen for a drink. You bumped into something hard, making you stumble back a bit. You looked to see who you had bumped into and it was none other Jesse McCree, the famous cowboy.

“Woah there darlin’. You gotta watch where your going.” He chuckled with a small shake of his head.

“Oh sorry, McCree.” You say with embarrassment. Jesse has been your long term crush and you could already feel a blush rise from coming in contact with him. “I was just going to the kitchen. If you’ll excuse me-”

“Yeah, I was just goin’ to talk to Ana-”

“Now, now both of you! You can’t leave just yet!” Reinhardt’s booming voice rang over to us.

“Why not?” You ask. He simply laughed and pointed above your head. Both McCree and you slowly look up and there it was hangning above you, the devious little plant; mistletoe. You look back at Jesse with wide eyes. “O-Oh my!”

“Well, it’s just my lucky day ain’t it?” He smirked and wrapped his arm around your waist. “You don’t mind do you?”

“N-No! Not at all.” McCree slowly leaned in, closing his brown eyes like hot cocoa closed as his soft lips met yours. Your hands found their way on his shoulders, deepening the kiss. It was like a dream came true.

“Alright!” Reinhardt laughed loudly, breaking you two apart. “Not in front of the wee children.” You blush and stare up at McCree who was still holding his signature smirk.

“Well I’ll be damned! That’s the best Christmas present I have ever received.”

“Same here.” You giggled.

Soldier 76

You and Jack were both leaning on a wall while watching the rest of the team partied it up, mugs of hot chocolate (which totally didn’t have a small dash of alcohol-) in each of their hands. Neither you or 76 were really the ‘party type’ so instead you both decided to watch and talk. You were starting to feel a bit stuffy due to all the people in the room, so you look to the man on your right.

“Hey Jack, it’s starting to get a little too warm in here. Want to go into one of the less crowded ones?”  

“Yeah.” He grunted and pushed himself from the wall, walking to the next room over. You walked next to him while taking a quick swig of your hot chocolate.  

Right as you both stepped foot into the large doorway, Hana jumped in front of you with her arms crossed.

“Not so fast! You two have to kiss!” She grinned and pointed upwards. Above you was the green plant with white berries, hung with a red velvet ribbon. The room seemed to get hotter at the thought of kissing Soldier 76. You turn and look at the man next to you whose face you couldn’t read. You weren’t sure if he was happy, uncomfortable or angry.

“We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to, Jack.” You look down to the ground, flustered beyond belief.

“Nonsense.” His hand gripped your chin, bringing your face to his before his scarred lips met your soft ones. The kiss seemed to last forever until Hana made a noise of disgust.

“I said kiss not make out!” She walked between you two, joining the rest of Overwatch during the party. Jack chuckled and gave you one of those rare smiles.

“Merry Christmas soldier.”

“Merry Christmas Jack.” You smiled back and kissed him again.

Junkrat

“Oi! (Y/N)!” Jamison called you over to him and Roadhog. You managed to get through your teammates and over to the two Australians.

“Yeah Jamison?”

“Roadie and I wanted to show you somethin’!” He took your hand and pulled you towards whatever it was. He stopped abruptly, his hand still holding yours, in front of a doorway with a mistletoe hanging above it. “I was hopin’ you could explain that thing. I seen it in other places too.” You heard Roadhog grunt behind you.

“Oh well that’s Mistletoe, Jamie.”

“Mistletoe? If it was a mistletoe wouldn’t it be a foot with a rocket for a toe?”

“No silly, it’s a Christmas tradition. People hang this up and when two people walk under it, they are supposed to kiss.” You giggled at his confused face before he dragged you under the plant.

“Kiss me then sheila!” He laughed.

“W-Well okay.” You blushed and pecked him on the lips.

“No a real kiss!” His bare arms wrapped themselves around your frame, pulling you close to his exposed chest. With another giggle, his lips met yours. It was a breathtaking kiss and you were going to deepen it until a flash of light blinked.

“Mako!” You gasped. He was holding a camera while giving Junkrat a thumbs. You looked back at the Aussie still holding on to you. “You planned this didn’t you?”

“Guilty!” He giggled loudly, his head thrown back. “You enjoyed it though didn’t ya?”

“Heh ya, I did.” You smile and looked into his eyes. “Merry Christmas ya filthy animal.”

“Oi!” He shouted but laughed, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, love.”

Mercy

You and Angela were laughing, arms linked while listening to one of Reinhardt’s adventurous tales he was telling to Hana and Lucio. You were about to say something to your girlfriend before McCree jumped from behind you.

“Mistletoe!” He shouted while holding the plant over your heads.

“Sometimes I think you just enjoy watching us kiss, Jesse.” You laughed.

“Guilty as charge.”

“What do you say, Angela? Want to kiss under the mistletoe?”

“Of course, Liebling.” She smiled angelically with a cute blush on her face. You smile and place your hand on her cheek, giving her a sweet loving kiss.

Widowmaker

It wasn’t everyday Talon through a Christmas party. You were standing with your crush Widowmaker and Reaper, chitchatting about whatever.

“Have any of you seen Sombra?” You suddenly ask, knowing she was up to something to get you and Amélie together somehow. Just as Reaper was about to speak, the little devil herself came out of invisibility with a smirk. You were going to question her until you saw the green and white plant pinched between her gloved fingers between you and Amélie.

“You both know what this means.~” She smirked, looking between the both of you. Widow glared at Sombra which made you gulp nervously.

“Y-You know w-we don’t have to-” But Amélie cut you off but crashing her dark lips against yours. You gasp against her some-what cold lips, but nonetheless you enjoyed the short, messy kiss.

“Amélie…”

“I,” She searched for the right words.“ I seem to posses feelings for you.”

“Well I seem to have feelings for you too.” You giggled at her flustered face.

Reaper

Parties were never really Reapers thing but he went to the Talon Christmas party because you were going to be there. Despite most of his feelings of hatred and emptiness, he still held some love to his heart that was reserved for you. The only problem was that you didn’t know he loved you.

It was the moment where he felt honestly terrified when you both met under the dastardly plant. On the outside, due to his mask, he seemed calm and collected but on the inside he was freaking out like he might of when he still was 'human’. Sombra laughed loudly, pointing at the two of you while Widowmaker tried hiding her chuckle.

“Well… it can be a simple peck to the mask if you’d like.” You smiled up at him, making his heart flutter, but he didn’t move. You rose on your tiptoes and let your lips touch his white mask. With a small wave and a blush, you started walking away. But that small kiss to his mask wasn’t enough for him. His hand gripped your forearm, spinning you around and pulling you close to his firm body. With his free hand, he moved his mask half way off his face. You gasp and blush at his face, despite the scars and slight, black smoke radiating from him, he was quiet handsome.

“…I want more.” He confessed before his rough lips met yours. It was slightly aggressive but you enjoyed it. His one arm tightened around you as he nibbled on your bottom lip.

“Cheese!” Sombra suddenly shouted as the flash of her camera went off. Both of you were completely flustered as you pulled apart. Gabriel growled and slid his mask back on fully before chasing after Sombra, shouting threats and insults.

You stood next to Widow, sharing a laugh with her as you both watched Gabriel and Sombra run around yelling and laughing.

Pharah

“Well.” The mistletoe hung above your heads, seemingly taunting you both.

“It looks like we have to kiss.” Fareeha Amari smirked as she looked down at you, her significant lover. “Who’s gonna kiss first?” You both stare at each other before you sigh.

“Time to put on the big pants then.” You pulled up imaginary pants high with a funny face. Fareeha stared at you before bursting out laughing, slightly hunched over. After her quick laugh she brushed some of your (h/c) hair away from your face. You giggled and did the same with her, your hand finding its place on her soft cheek.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Fareeha.” You both closed your eyes and your lips met in a peppermint tasting kiss.

Hanzo

You both looked at each other in embarrassment as Genji cackled loudly. Above you and Hanzo was mistletoe. Hanzo sent his cyborg brother a glare which made Genji laugh more, luckily Lucio was able to get him to leave you and Hanzo alone. You looked to the older Shimada brother who seemed more flustered than.

“If… If you don’t want to, we don’t have to kiss.” You said with hurt evident in your voice. You prepared yourself for rejection from the Archer before you felt a calloused hand on your cheek.

“I would love to.” Hazo leaned and gave you a sweet kiss, his beard tickled against your chin. Your hands gripped his jacket, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was short lived but enjoyable for the both of you.

“(Y/N), I just wanted to say…” He spoke quietly while briefly looking to the side before his eyes met yours. “I wanted to say I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too.” You smile and hug him, resting your head on his chest while he rested his head on yours.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” He kissed the top of your head and you both contently stayed in each others embrace.

The Losers Club as My Favourite Game Grumps Quotes

Eddie Kaspbrak

- “It’s so gay and I love it. No one can be in a bad mood when they’re watching something that amazingly gay.”

- “This is like math! And nothing makes me softer than math!”

- “I’m in the process of believing in you.”

- “Actually they’re called jants- they’re jorts for your whole entire legs.”

Stanley Uris

- “My inevitable death and disintegration make me fucking chill.”

- “Shalom, and happy Hanukkah!…you must die.”

- “Life is conflict and pain.”

- “The special is the go fuck yourself.”

Ben Hanscom

- “I’m gonna fear barf…as a self defence mechanism.”

- “Dude, just… just pity laugh, at least!”

- “A group of poodles is called a sproodle.”

- “It smells like knowledge, shut up!”

Richie Tozier

- “My entire life has just been one spicy tit after another.”

- “Suck my nuts you dickless crawdad.”

- “There’s gotta be some way to fuck it.”

- “Shit man, I didn’t know we were supposed to pay attention.”

Beverly Marsh

- “I’ll light whoever the fuck I want on fire.”

- “I’m a snake slithering bitch.”

- “AY YO WHERE THE PUSSY PRODUCTS AT?”

- “You are not garbage you are a person.”

Bill Denbrough

- “I’ve got bananas on my side.”

- “Jennifer dumped me.”

- “The ghost of Christmas disappointed parents”

- “I get horny when you get confused.”

Mike Hanlon

- “At age 6 I was born without a face.”

- “Welcome to Walmart! You must die.”

- “I misunderstood how touching works.”

- “Well I guess I’m such a fuckin’ dad then. I can’t even pick up on dad jokes.”

What Sherlock Doesn't Say to Molly

In light of Sherlock finally saying those three little words to Molly, I’ve been going back and tracing the progression of his feelings for Molly.  And one of the things that stood out to me started with that often analyzed Sherlolly question… “Was Sherlock really oblivious about the coffee invite?"  Because there is one thing that Sherlock has never said to Molly despite having ample opportunity to do so.

We’ve noted for ages that for all his supposed obliviousness Sherlock is socially perceptive enough to realize that John’s questions about Sherlock’s dating status could denote a romantic interest, and Sherlock immediately and politely shuts that down lest it create some misunderstanding or trouble with his new roommate.  Not that John meant it in that way, anyhow, but an ounce of prevention… 

So if Sherlock can recognize those social cues, how does he miss Molly’s date invitation?  One could argue that Molly’s invite was more subtle and at a time when he was rather distracted by the experiment that he was conducting at the time… except for one rather large fly in the ointment. 

For someone who is supposed to be oblivious to Molly, Sherlock is awfully damned observant.  His reaction to Molly’s explanation is equally problematic if we are supposed to believe that Sherlock is completely oblivious. 

That is not the face of a man who is just going with the easy explanation.  Even as Sherlock starts to turn back to his notes, his eyes are warily fixed on Molly and his expression and body language seems quite suspicious and nervous, rather like a man who has just discovered a large cobra that looks ready to strike.  He knows there’s more to this and that Molly is about to make a move.  This would be the perfect time to lay things on the line, as he later does with John, but instead he feigns complete ignorance. 

We’ve thrown out plenty of theories about his actions here before, but I think that in light of the progression between Sherlock and Molly it’s worth a few new thoughts.  I am honestly not sure if Sherlock knows why he plays dumb at this moment.   As Mrs. Hudson points out in S4, Sherlock is actually all emotion… however in S1 Sherlock is firmly denying his emotions to the point that you have to wonder if he’s even convinced himself.  

For as concerned as Sherlock was about his observation that Molly had put on lipstick for him, he’s equally concerned when he observes that she has taken it off after her failed invitation.  And it is not at all inconceivable after all we’ve seen between them that a primal part of Sherlock actually enjoyed the fact that Molly was putting on that lipstick for his benefit. 


He doesn’t want her to push for something he thinks is beyond his capabilities, but he doesn’t want her to completely lose interest in him either.  Sherlock knows how to give Molly a compliment to get in her good graces, as he does in the very next episode, but he doesn’t do that here either.  A compliment this soon after her invite could provoke another invite.  So he needles her instead, trying to provoke her into continuing to wear lipstick around him. 

At heart I really don’t think that Sherlock is behaving this way because he’s a cold bastard who’s merely trying to use Molly at the beginning of the series.  I think that would have been his way of rationalizing his behavior in the first two episode, but I also think that from the beginning Sherlock at least subconsciously wants Molly’s romantic attention.  There could even be a conscious recognition of this desire on his part that he is internally at war with himself over, because there is a pattern of behavior here that continues even as their relationship escalates. 

Let’s skip ahead to the next big development in their relationship.  The Christmas party where Sherlock discovers that Molly’s regard for him is deeper than just a little meaningless flirting… after he humiliates both of them in front of their friends by trying to deduce her.  She’s dressed to the nines, she’s carrying one specially wrapped present, and she’s wearing that sexy red lipstick for someone–and Sherlock’s deductions make it crystal clear that he does understand the psychology behind a woman trying to draw a man’s attention to her lips.  The "Jim” incident made it clear that Molly wasn’t just sitting around and pining for Sherlock, and he might even have reason to believe that Molly has moved on after that particular scene in the lab.  It’s only after he has behaved like a complete bellend that Sherlock realizes that he was the object of her affection all along. 


Sherlock giving his first ever apology in the series to Molly was a beautiful and important moment.  Sherlock goes beyond that though by giving Molly a Christmas present in return. 

After all the horrible things he’d said, Sherlock gives her a tender kiss on the cheek while wishing her a Merry Christmas.  Leaving Molly (and the rest of the world) to wonder what to make of his actions.  Was he so cruel before because he was jealous?  Was he overcompensating for having just been a total jerk to her?  It’s not like Sherlock bothers to clarify with something like, “I’m flattered Molly, but I’m married to my work."  Is that because he’s trying to spare her more pain, or because he, himself, is confused especially with how Irene has been trying to stir his libido? 

Between the kiss, Sherlock’s lewd ringtone, and Sherlock identifying Irene at the morgue by "not her face”… Sherlock is definitely not giving Molly the impression that he is a man who is married to his work.  No wonder she’s looking for a little clarification on the subject while they are working alone in the lab. 

And this was Sherlock’s golden opportunity to tell her if he didn’t want her affections, because he didn’t have to make the answer about Molly.  There is nobody around to make the situation humiliating.  He could have simply answered, “Molly, I think you should know I consider myself married to my work, etc." 

Because at this point Sherlock knows how Molly feels about him.  All the Christmas deductions plus the "three x’s… sign of romantic attachment."  And yet again, Sherlock doesn’t say it. 

For someone who had zero trouble saying those words to John when he thought John might have a romantic interest, Sherlock goes out of his way to never say those words to Molly, even after he knows she is romantically interested in him.  Even when Molly thinks that he is in love with Irene, Molly is still that helpful and loyal soul he can rely on.  He’s not going to lose her help in the lab or on his cases, so none of his potential earlier rationalizations for not telling her would apply anymore. 

Instead, Sherlock goes on to tell her things like, "You can see me.” “You do count.  You’ve always counted, and I’ve always trusted you."   "If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?"  And let’s not forget his answer to "What do you need?"  Obviously the only way to answer that was, ”You.“  ;)

So Molly helps fake his death (and keep it secret for two years) and lets him use her bedroom for a bolthole, so I think we’ve reached a pretty high level of trust between them by the beginning of season 3, where Sherlock gets yet another scene where he could have said those words. 

Yeah, so if Molly considers "have dinner” a viable ending to that sentence, Sherlock has obviously still never mentioned his “no dating” policy to her.  They have a day filled with crime solving, meaningful looks, Sherlock’s heartfelt thanks, declarations of Molly being “the one person who mattered most”, another kiss from Sherlock, and an offer to take her to dinner after all… until Sherlock and Molly finally have to acknowledge that she’s currently engaged to another man. 

And do you know when else Sherlock would have had an opportunity to tell Molly that he was married to his work and not interested in romantic entanglements?  During whatever off-screen conversation that had about saying “I love you” to each other during the whole bomb threat scene.  Of course, with the way that Molly was beaming the world’s biggest smile and rushing towards Sherlock’s favorite spot in the ending montage, I think it’s safe to say that Sherlock never said those words to her then either.