#holiday romances

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🎁 Queer Holiday Book Recs 🎁

✨ Celebrate the season with these queer holiday book recommendations! Thank you to everyone who submitted a suggestion.

❓ What are you hoping to find under the tree this year?

🎀 How to Excavate a Heart - Jake Maia Arlow 🎁 Make My Wish Come True - Alyson Derrick and Rachael Lippincott 🎀 Santa Pageant - Lillian Barry 🎁 Season of Love - Helena Greer 🎀 I'll Be Home for Christmas - Mason Deaver 🎁 This Winter - Alice Oseman 🎀 Make You Mine This Christmas - Lizzie Huxley-Jones 🎁 I'll Be Gone for Christmas - Georgia K. Boone 🎀 A Merry Little Meet Cute - Julie Murphy & Sierra Simone

🎁 Finding My Elf - David Valdes 🎀 Let Your Hearts Be Light - Fae Quin 🎁 Fearless - Shira Glassman 🎀 Snowed in With Summer - Tiana Warner 🎁 In the Event of Love - Courtney Kae 🎀 Let Your Heart Be Light - J.R. Lawrie 🎁 The Holiday Trap - Roan Parrish 🎀 Set the Record Straight - Hannah Bonam-Young 🎁 Christmas In Mistletoe - Clare Lydon

🎁 Mistletoe & Mishigas - MA Wardell 🎀 Merry & Sprite - Dani Lakely 🎁 The Geek Who Saved Christmas - Annabeth Albert 🎀 The Christmas Swap - Talia Samuels 🎁 You're a Mean One, Matthew Prince - Timothy Janovsky 🎀 Make Her Wish Come True - A.L. Brooks 🎁 Make the Season Bright - Ashley Herring Blake 🎀 The Merriest Misters - Timothy Janovsky 🎁 Most Wonderful - Georgia Clark

🎁 Kiss Her Once for Me - Alison Cochrun 🎀 Meet Me in Los Feliz - Kelly Reynolds 🎁 Whiteout - Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon 🎀 Under the Mistletoe with You by Lizzie Huxley-Jones 🎁 The Night Before Kissmas - Sara Raasch 🎀 Written in the Stars - Alexandria Bellefleur 🎁 The Mistletoe Motive - Chloe Liese 🎀 Just Like Christmas - Annabel den Dekker 🎁 I'll Get Back to You - Becca Grischow

[franticvampirereads]

This was a perfect read to kick off the holiday season! It was sweet and funny and just a little bit angsty. And it had all the holiday & Christmasy vibes. I loved getting to see Miles coming out of his shell and Trent finally believing he’s worthy of being loved. And I can’t forget Bubba for setting it all in motion! This was just the sweetest and it’s getting four stars. I can’t wait to read the next one! 😊

Also! This was book #100 for 2024!! 😭❤️

[the-book-queen]

Oooh, I see a new holiday romance from Rebekah!

Grab your copy of A MAN FOR MRS. CLAUS today: https://amzn.to/4gXsju3

[lady-sai]

ɴᴏᴡ .𝟿𝟿ᴄᴇɴᴛs 𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙄𝙣: https://mybook.to/snowed-in #SnowedInAnthology #snowedin #wintersteamyromance #instalove #forcedproximity #winterromancebooks Snowed In - Two attractive people stuck together during a blizzard, what could go wrong...or right?

[dailyflicks]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING (1995) dir. Jon Turteltaub

[hellspawnmotel]

noelle getting a new outfit was the most exciting part of the newsletter for me

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

Make the Season Bright - Ashley Herring Blake

I'll Get Back to You - Becca Grischow

Merry Weihnachten - E.J. Noyes

Wake Up, Nat & Darcy - Kate Cochrane

It's September, which means it's Christmas romance publish date season, so that means it's also time for my annual post asking for help finding all the sapphic ones!

who knows of any sapphic holiday romances being published in 2024?

the only one already on my list is the new Lippincott & Derrick collaboration. bonus points for any recs that aren't fem/fem

[esthesiaart]

Best wishes for a joyous holiday season and a happy New Year to everyone! (You can find it as a print on INPRNT, link in bio)

[comatosebunny09]

merry christmas, mr. sylus [ aftermath ]

— summary: maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought. — cw: fluff, romance, jealousy, feelings of inadequacy, reader is not mc, ceo au, modern au, aged-up characters (sylus is in his mid-30s), mutual pining — notes: a happy ending for the holidays. happy holidays, all! [ part 1 | part 2 ] — now playing: some days - stella jang

It’s been nearly a week since you kissed your boss that fateful night.

Well, more like since he kissed you. 

And it’s strange because even though he was the one to initiate it, he’s been avoiding you like a sickness. His curt good mornings have felt glacial, where they were once warm enough to light the torch of your day. Your daily briefs have felt rigid, and the car rides together have made you want to tuck and roll out the door. Worst off, he hasn’t maintained consistent eye contact with you since Christmas Eve, his gaze often fleeting away, studying the floor or the blurred space over your shoulder.

It really pisses you off. It’s bad enough that the night replays in your mind like a warped record, bringing with it warring feelings of relief and hurt. Relief because, maybe, he didn’t push you away as much as you initially thought. Hurt because the look on his face when he booked it to the elevator, leaving you to nurse bittersweet emotions and a broken smile, is permanently ingrained in your memory. 

The pain overshadows all because he won’t even look at you now. 

Were your lips chapped? Is it because you didn’t know what to do with your hands? Did you smell offensive? Were you just shit at kissing? Said thoughts hover in your mind like a nebulous cloud stretched across the galaxy, even as you sift through documents and folders, trying your best to distract yourself. 

Mr. Sylus is tucked safe in his office behind you. Over the past few days, he’s made a point to arrive earlier than you—which is alarming considering you’re usually the night heron, showing up to fix his coffee, line up his daily schedule, and greet him with an unbridled smile. 

You slam the folder you were working with shut, garnering a few perturbed looks from the staff scuttling about on the tenth floor. Sighing, you pitch yourself back in your chair, a pout inhabiting your features. If he wants to be childish about it, sure. But you’ve rarely been one to let sleeping dogs lie, and the awkwardness between you affects your at-home life as well. 

Your gaze flits to the lower drawer of your desk. You scrutinize the lacquered cherry wood, contemplating barging into your boss’ office and giving him your makeup present. You figured maybe, just maybe, he was partially upset because he’d been expecting something more practical for Christmas. And perhaps that’s why he rushed out that night, all stone-faced and covering his lips with spindly fingers. 

You still remember their taste—their feel. Your lips still tingle, and your face bleeds bashfulness whenever you recollect. They were slightly chapped but warm as they moved against yours. And, through the union, it felt like he poured something molten into the chasm of your belly. Something that set your heart rate into overdrive, the gears in your head whirring until steam billowed from your ears.

A swift hand covers where your heart thrums, and you shake your head to dispel your memories. Was kissing him really worth it if it meant your working relationship would suffer? Obviously not if you’re mulling over it so hard. But with determination bleeding over your countenance, you bend to throw open your bottom drawer. An oblong, matte black box peers back at you from within, intricately dressed with a scarlet bow. Scarlet, like the irises burned into your memory, looking at you with utter mortification.

Banishing your thoughts, you snatch the present from inside. Kick your drawer shut, standing so quickly that the front wheels of your chair bounce against the floor. You turn towards the heavy oakwood door of his office, the embossed letters of his name challenging you, and you steel your resolve.

But fate has been the most fickle bitch as of late, intervening when she sees fit, burning your efforts to mere soot.

A familiar, mellifluous voice calls you from behind. And just your luck, it would be her. You swivel, greeting Ms. Hunter with all the rehearsed ease of someone in your field. 

She’s all bright-eyed and youthful with a thousand-watt smile. Gorgeous despite being in uniform, her hair windswept and cheeks mottled pink. A part of you would love to hate her, but you’ve truly no reason to. She’s never disrespected you, never called you out of your name. She’s been sickeningly cordial since you met her.

“Hey! Sylus in?” she asks, and your heart plummets into your stomach. Why else would she be here?

You nod rigidly, dropping back into your seat with the finesse of a bowling ball. And you take up the handset of your desk phone, dreading the familiar drawl of a particular voice on the other end. 

“Speak,” he answers, the curl of his voice making your stomach do somersaults. Despite its flatness, this is perhaps the most emotion you’ve heard from him in the last few days.

“Ms. Hunter is here to see you, sir.”

A part of you hopes he turns her away–tells you he doesn’t want to see anyone, even if it’s his darling lady friend. And you feel you might get your wish when he’s silent for a beat, the crinkly static being your only company. Instead of answering your prayers, he simply answers, “Let her in.”

Your stomach freefalls to your feet. Your mask of a smile twitches, your disappointment sluggishly leaking through the fissures. “Of course, sir.” And you hang up, standing once more to lead Ms. Hunter into the place you haven’t been allowed into for days yourself.  

She nods curtly, brushing past you, her hair wispy and the scent of stale Jasmine staining her clothes. When the door clicks shut behind her, you melt into your seat until your shoulders touch your ears, and you kick your excuse for a peace offering under the shadowy abyss of your desk. 

And to think you’d worked so hard to muster the courage to confront your boss, too.

—

It’s nearing lunch, and you’re shoving things into your bag as your stomach reminds you that you skipped breakfast. You sling your pack over your shoulder, pushing your chair under your desk, preparing to hit the cafe in the city’s heart for something quick. You barely make it two steps before you’re summoned for the second time, though there is no high and light voice curling around your name this time.

This one is low and even, velvet-smooth, furling in your chest like smoke, sticking to your lungs like ash. You whip your head around to meet a familiar sheen of white hair. 

He stands in his doorframe, a pensive look on his face, scarlet eyes smoldering with something you can’t quite place. Has his hands stuffed in his pockets, and he’s looking between you and your bag, wordlessly inquiring where you’re off to.

With a nervous laugh in your throat, you turn to face him fully. “Was just about to grab some lunch. You want anything, sir?”

He shakes his head, the barest cant to his lips. It’s gone before you’ve time to appreciate it.

You don’t know whether to laugh or scream as you fiddle with your fingers. At least he’s trying to approach you first, no matter how uncomfortable the exchange. You wonder if Ms. Hunter had something to do with this. Maybe he told her what happened six nights ago, and she gave him a pep talk to put him back into good spirits. But you know that’s just wishful thinking. In fact, she seemed uncharacteristically somber when she left his office earlier, barely acknowledging your goodbye. 

“Can I speak to you before you leave?” he asks, brows slightly furrowed, head tilted, lips set in a stiff line. 

Something cold drips through you. You grab the strap of your bag, grip white-knuckled, and the leather squeaks. Despite the dread turning your limbs to lead, you plaster on a smile and nod. He motions into his office, stepping aside to let you in. And you try to ignore how your heart threatens to leap from your rib cage because this is the part where he fires you, isn’t it?

Oh well. The job was good while it lasted—something to fatten up your résumé and harden your heart.

It’s warm inside his office. Of course, it always is. And you’ve missed this, not having been amid these softened, gray, accent molded walls all week. It smells of cracked cinnamon sticks and vanilla beans with something inherently Sylus snuck in between. The city stretches like a yawning beast against the horizon, peering through the ceiling-high windows behind his desk. 

Strangling the strap of your pack, you ease into a red, tufted armchair, your legs bouncing and your throat growing dry. You jolt when the door shuts and admonish yourself for being so jittery. If Mr. Sylus intends to fire you, you’ll face it head-on with a smile on your face. 

So you muster one as he moves to inhabit the space mere inches away from you, leaning against the edge of his heavy, cherry wood desk, arms crossing over a broad chest. He’s as devastating a sight as ever, his blazer slung over the back of his rolling chair, his forearms bleeding from cuffed sleeves. And the sight of his veins, branching like a roadmap beneath his skin, still makes your tongue feel heavy in your mouth.

You’re going to miss this. 

He looks contemplative as you toy with your bag’s zipper. And your cheeks ache from smiling so hard. Wonder how long you’ll have to keep up this act before he drops a bomb on you. 

“How are you doing today?” he queries. And you blink rapidly, not expecting him to open the floor with small talk. Regardless, you’re grateful he’s offering you more than curt grunts, even if it’ll be the last time you hear them.

“Um…I’m doing alright, I guess.” 

Your stomach growls, disrupting the tension that brews between you. You rub your stomach placatingly, and Sylus snorts, perching virile hands on the edge of his desk, leaning back. He seems a little more open. A little lighter, and you find your lips twitching with a genuine smile this time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal you away from your lunch break. I promise to be brief.”

You nod as a knot of nerves forms in your gut, warring with your hunger. Straightening your back, you cross your ankles, hands flattened in your lap. Here it comes—

“Do you…have any plans for New Year’s?”

You blink again, brows pinching. “Wh-wha?”

He sheepishly rubs the scruff of his neck, and you can’t recall a time you’ve ever seen him so at odds with himself. He reminds you of an adolescent, rallying the courage to ask out their crush. 

“A friend of mine owns a cabin up in the woods.” He looks at you, wetting his lips. You nod, cautiously encouraging him to continue. “He usually hosts this whole weekend extravaganza there every New Year’s. Bringing a plus one is a bit of an unspoken rule. I was wondering if you didn’t already have plans—”

You unconsciously lean forward, brows lifting. 

“—if you would like to accompany me?”

Well, that took a left turn. A hand placed over your heart, you laugh, the knot of your nerves slowly unraveling. So, does this mean your boss doesn’t hate you?

“I would love to!” you say with a little too much enthusiasm. And he smiles in turn, stuffing his hands in his pockets, chuckle infectious. 

The load of the air a little lighter, you exchange small talk, and it feels as if nothing’s changed between you. Like that fateful Christmas Eve night, you didn’t make an ass of yourself, and he didn’t regret kissing you.

Sylus walks you to the door, twin smiles donning your faces. You turn to him on your way out, awkwardly running into the hardened planes of his chest. He steadies you with tender fingers wrapped around your arms, and the gleam in his eyes siphons the air from your lungs. You find your gaze falling to his lips, his mirroring yours. And had there not been people still milling about, you would’ve kissed him.

“W-would you like to grab lunch together, sir?” you ask instead, caught up in the alluring stir of his eyes—the wispy dance of darkened lashes, the tremor of pink lips.

“Of course,” he answers, his warm breath fanning over your mouth. He sweeps some errant hair behind your ear, the glide of his knuckle against your cheek reminiscent of pill bugs rolling over your skin. 

You nod, pulling yourself from the spell the moment cast. And you lead the way, trying vainly to stifle the grin splitting your face in twain, Mr. Sylus a warm and homely presence at your back as the pair of you make your way to the elevator.  

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

What, you didn't think I'd get rid of all of the bats, did you?

[teahmugs01]

A job well done ~ ^^

By the Peach Tree is now available on Webtoon!

[human-rocket]

The Holiday AU! Been listening to the soundtrack all month and got all the Obikin feels ☃️

So. Newly-single Obi-Wan leaves his home in England and travels to the US for the holidays hoping to forget about his breakup. (He was with Satine but they grew apart.)

After he arrives he does some brooding in his Airbnb, then goes out to a bar where he meets Anakin. They have what was supposed to be a one-night-stand but caaaant seem to stay away from each other. Later, Obi-Wan finds out about little Luke and Leia. (This was always one of my favorite parts of the movie 😭 The kids are so cuuute) Turns out Anakin is a widowed DILF (sorry Padme). Obi-Wan is a hit with the twins but oh nooo he must return to England and go back to his super successful job. (Doing what? Idk publishing or something) On his way to the airport he’s like, hmm oh wait, I love that DILF. Queue rom-com goodness with Obi-Wan dramatically going back and they reunite and smooch. They then spend NYE together and boom let the credits roll.

The movie’s ending isn’t actually clear on how they work out the distance thing, but in this version I think Obi-Wan eventually moves to be with Anakin and the twins ❤️

[novelbear]

happy little holiday scenarios for your otp 🎄

prompt list by @novelbear

late night drives to see all the christmas lights in the neighborhood

"do we want sugar cookies or chocolate chip?"

lifting one up so that they can place the decorations up on the wall

christmas movie date nights.

"ho ho holy shit you look good." lmao im so sorry

their first date being at a tree lighting celebration

jokingly going up to the santas at the mall and embarrassing the other one

one not knowing how to wrap a gift and the other just laughing at them out of endearment

^ but of course they help them out + walk them through it <3

sharing a warm kiss during the first snow of the season

"you know you didn't have to get me anything.."

putting a gingerbread house together

^ think about it: one is trying to hold the walls up and the other one walks over and gently places their own hands over theirs to help and :((

meeting each other's family for the first time over the holidays

"oh don't be such a scrooge" "i knew you were going to say that."

sweetly singing christmas songs to one another

when it's cold outside so they hold hands together inside someone's coat pocket.

"there is tinsel. everywhere." [laughing] "i think you got more of it on yourself than the tree"

holiday shopping dates!

sharing a candy cane <3

bickering over which christmas movie is superior

[timethehobo]

Half asleep so a quick scribble. He’s too cute I can’t help it. 😔

[dailyflicks]

WHITE CHRISTMAS dir. Michael Curtiz, 1954

[torpublishinggroup]

Cover art: @lilithsaur

Designer: Lesley Worrell

In The Nightmare Before Kissmas by New York Times bestselling author Sara Raasch, the prince of Christmas is a chaotic bisexual with a big problem: the hot goth guy he drunkenly made out with at a bar is actually the Prince of Halloween—and they’re both supposed to be romantic rivals in a holiday media stunt. The only thing left to do in this steamy rom com full of tricks and treats is to make the yuletide…gay. 🏳️‍🌈