#holiday thoughts

[theresawritesstuff]

We had our first snow of the season the other day and now that Halloween is behind us I got to thinking about some of the songs that are definitely not holiday songs but have sort of become synonymous by association in my brain because of the mix cd my mother put together and dubbed "Christmas, etc" many years ago.

This opening bass always feels like the kick off to the holidays. It's the day after Thanksgiving. Decorations have been hauled up from the basement. It's probably snowing. I don't know how Mom found this version because I cannot find it among Harry Connick Jr.'s discography on Spotify but it's the only one that will do.

I dunno, just rambling. I enjoy holiday associations.

[quarble]

Ok, so I am not a writer. The adhd wins every time, and I cannot finish anything I start. But. I have an idea that I can’t shake so I’m putting out into The World (of my 7 mutuals):

Steve’s favorite nanny growing up loved The Carpenters. Her name was Pam, and she took care of Steve 5 days a week after school and every summer vacation until he was in 6th grade. She was more of a mother to him than his real mother ever was, and she could do no wrong in his eyes. Every December, they would decorate Steve’s room together, putting up all the handmade paper chains and snowflakes and drawings of Santa that Mrs. Harrington said would not match the rest of the expensive decor of the rest of the house. They would bake cookies and crafts and tell stories, and they would do it all to the album “Christmas Portrait” by The Carpenters.

After Pam got married and moved away, Steve had a hard time around the holidays. He missed her, and he never got to experience that warm and cozy feeling of maternal love combined with childhood traditions again. His mom was busy and uninterested in making kiddie crafts, his dad was working and barely around. Sure, he got presents, and his mom would pick up some cookies from the grocery store, but it was never the same again.

And then, sometimes, he would be punched in the gut by nostalgia. It usually happened in public, at the worst possible time, too. He’d be at Melvald’s, just buying some damn toothpaste, and the warm, deep tones of Karen Carpenter’s voice would get in his ears, singing the lamest and sappiest lyrics imaginable, and he would start to tear up. It was a goddam Pavlovian response that he couldn’t control no matter how hard he tried. The Carpenters were NOT cool, and he was a 19 year old man, for fucks sake! He should not be crying in public to goddamn “Merry Christmas Darling” like a menopausal mom. But his feelings about Christmas were all tied up with his abandonment issues and his mommy issues and this fucking song just made him so painfully nostalgic for the one good thing in his childhood and he just…stood there, sniffling, half smiling at a tube of Colgate, dabbing his eyes on his coat sleeve.

Unbeknownst to Steve, Eddie Munson is there, half way down the same aisle holding a bottle of Pert Plus. He is absolutely smitten, just wants to squeeze Steve until he pops for being so adorable and sappy.

But then he goes and ruins the moment by laughing at Karen Carpenter singing “logs on the fire fill me with desire”, because he is a filthy gremlin with his mind in the gutter, and Steve is both embarrassed at being caught by his crush crying to cheesy Christmas music in Melvald’s, and mad at Eddie for laughing at said cheesy Christmas music. Admittedly, that line is totally ridiculous, but that is not the point and Eddie is not allowed to ruin it for him.

Cue the unloading of emotional baggage and healing and making out. And making cookies. The end.

[the-panicked-eel]

Obligatory, hey look pretty blue skies do exist in the UK, post!

I'm looking forward to summer weather soo much!

While I'm not much of a, chill by the pool kinda person and prefer theme park holidays, the weather has been so dreadful I'd honestly welcome a holiday where I just get to enjoy the sunshine with a book, and breath in that wonderful warm holiday air tinged with chlorine, as the water gently laps against the pool's tiled walls 💙

[girl-who-writes-stuff]

I haven’t written anything this year and I feel so sad about it 😔 It’s been a tough year work wise, I moved to a new city, and I started to read again which was the main reason I didn’t have free time hehe.

I finally started all SJM sagas (and finished them) and I’ve fallen in love with books once again💛 I’m feeling super hopeful and inspired to start writing again, especially about new ships and fandoms (acotar, Fourth wing…)

I want to write more in 2024 and I’m adding it to my New Years resolution list 💪🏼

[saurotitan]

On the Matter of Santa Claus

r

It’s officially December, and due to a lack of other ideas I’ve decided to go straight for a Christmas-related topic. Obviously I feel like a bit of a hack for resorting to such low-hanging fruit this early in the month, but if the trees and decorations my mother’s had up since mid-November are any indication you’re all craving this kind of content already. There might still be some non-Christmas…

[sanaefum0]

NOEEYYYYY <333

[yi5h]

Map of distant lands

[bonniepop]

atsumu opens the door to his house and is greeted by silence and a dark first floor. it’s to be expected; it’s nearly midnight, and he got stuck in traffic on the way back home from practice.

toeing off his shoes by the door, he leaves the keys to his car on the console table and uses the flashlight on his phone to help him navigate in the darkness. he climbs up the stars and hears muffled voices. it sounds like a movie.

the upstairs hallway is fairly lit, so he uses the sound to guide him to his child’s door. gently, he turns on the knob and pokes his head in. there’s a laptop playing a children’s movie on the desk, a flurry of toys on the floor, and a mother and child snuggled on the bed.

“hey, sweetheart,” he greets softly, grinning when he catches his daughter’s attention and she perks up.

“mommy,” she says, tiny hands tapping her dozing mother’s cheek. “mommy, daddy’s here.”

—

“mommy,” your daughter calls again, and your eyes blearily blink open. “mommy, it’s daddy!”

you twist your head and smile sleepily when your gaze lands on your husband. “hi, tsum.”

“hi, baby,” he greets, slipping inside and dropping his gym bag by the door. he moves to sit but his daughter stops him.

“no, daddy,” she whines. “you can’t go on my bed. you’re dirty!”

you snort while he blinks, and you push yourself up to sit.

it takes him a while to process what she just said. “i’m not dirty!” atsumu protests, placing his hands on his hips. “i’m clean! i changed clothes before i left the gym—”

“no,” she says, wrinkling her nose and pointing to his bag by the door. “you have to shower.”

“these clothes are clean—”

“nooooo,” she whines, slapping the cushion in frustration. “shower!”

“but mommy’s on the bed and i wanna be on the bed, too—”

“but mommy’s clean!” she whines again. “shower, daddy!” she extends the r of the word shower, baring her teeth in a scowl.

his jaw drops, then he turns to gape at you. “you’re not gonna say anything?”

you tamp down your smile and shrug. “it’s easier if you just do as she says. i had to shower before i even entered her room.”

“where did you learn this?” he asks, turning back to his daughter with disbelief. “i bet it was from your grandma, ‘cause your mom ain’t as much of a neat fre—”

“okay!” you interrupt him, climbing off the bed before your daughter could expand her vocabulary. “i’ll make sure your dad bathes, sweetheart.” you lean down to kiss your daughter’s forehead.

“thank you, mommy,” she says sweetly, kissing your cheek.

“what about my kiss?” atsumu asks, shouldering his bag and frowning.

“shower first,” his daughter says resolutely.

“jesus,” atsumu mumbles under his breath, low enough that his daughter can’t make it out, and you herd him to step outside the door.

you laugh when it clicks shut behind you. “it’s your bag, you know,” you mention, walking alongside him. “whenever she sees it, that’s when she thinks you’re dirty.”

“why? i spray this thing all the time with the little—” he makes a spritzing-like motion with his fingers. “what’s it called? the thing you gave me.”

“deodorizer?”

“yeah!”

“smelling deodorized and smelling clean are different,” you point out, then point to your bedroom. “go. shower.”

he sighs in dismay, but true to himself, he's not down for long. he wiggles his eyebrows in your direction. “care to join me?”

you roll your eyes. “nice try. i’m gonna put your gross clothes in the laundry room.”

he brightens. “i can do that! after we shower together, that is.”

you sour. “and let the stink simmer? no way.” you reach out your hand. “give it to me; i’ll do it.”

he pouts a little. “but it’ll be more fun if we shower together!”

“no.”

“come on! for me?”

it's almost emasculating, seeing him beg like this, but your gaze is stone cold serious. “no.”

he grumbles in defeat and hands his bag over. “fine. but just so you know, i’m not a happy husband right now and you’ll need to make up for the lack of love and commitment at some point.”

“i give you plenty,” you say with finality before turning on your heel and heading down the stairs.

“you promised for better or for worse and i am going to collect!” he calls after you.

"shower first, then we'll discuss my marital commitments."

[chubbidust]

it's hard being 2

[fromgoy2joy]

Yesterday-

My very nice wonderful friend - hey!! I got you a cinnamon roll in because Passover ends tonight! (Hands me a Tupperware box). Just like you did for me and Iftar!

Me- thank you!! I love you!!! (Grips her shoulder.) you own this cinnamon roll until sundown tonight. Do you understand?

Friend- what?

Me- this cinnamon roll, in all technicalities, is in your possession until then. Then, I’ll Venmo you a penny to buy them. Are we in agreement ?

Friend- of course

Me- thankyouiloveyousomuch.

[mangohcake]

Old deltarune doodles

[stargirl230]

Happy holidays! Have some frogs 🐸

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[justanothermaddieblog]

I kept you in my heart

Because you have been in my soul

But all this time I’ve held on to a fantasy

Disguised as a possibility

Because you will never be mine again

You cut the hope away

And tried to sew into someone else

Just hoping it would fit the same

Now I only pity you

You can’t make the broken fly

You cannot replace my kindred spirit

Nor will you ever hold a heart like mine

You traded love for wearing chains

And now I let you go forever

Chase your happiness in the emptiness

But don’t dare to covet mine.

-m.c.m

[linterteatime]

Noelle in some holiday Barbie's fit's

[2aceofspades]

Just a little tradition

[em7raen]

i started this ages ago when the newsletter came out , but i never finished it and i dont think i ever will . SO INSTEAD OF EVER TRYING TO FINISH IT , ILL JUST POST IT AS IS a whole month later + some doodles :3