#so usually we do it sometime before christmas week or like between the 26th and new years

[greyias]

please do the life day party but also. i don't know what day it usually is but i am literally begging you not to do it on the 22nd or 23rd because i'll be like 500 miles away from my computer

Honestly, the day usually varies, because I alwayyyys forget until the last minute 😅 It'll probably be next week some time, because I also cannot do it on the 23rd for very similar reasons!

It's usually at 3 pm central time (or 9pm universal standard time), because that seems to be the happiest medium for everyone in the states and a large portion of Europe (I know, RIP for Aussies/Pacific Ocean time zones), but with the way the calendar falls this year we'd have to do it probably on a weekday.

So far there seems to be an overwhelming "Yes" reply, so I'll probably put another poll together once this one closes out so we can figure out what day works for the majority of peeps.

[wild3flow3r]

Santa Baby // HS

Hey everyone! It’s been a long time since I posted some writing, but this season I was a part of @goldenbluesuit​ Christmas Song Fic Challenge! It was so much fun and I want to give her a huge thanks for allowing me to participate! Make sure to read all of the other fics in this challenge that have been posted + will be posted in the upcoming days. Without further ado, here’s my piece!

word count: 1.4k

cw: none! just tried to make something sweet :)

In my twenty-five years of life, I never, not once, imagined myself falling into bed with a mall Santa. Let alone one I detested with every fiber of my being. But alas, it was Christmas Eve and even stranger things have happened during the holidays. But honestly, this probably isn’t the strangest thing to have ever happened. This cannot be the first time a mall Santa and his most trusted elf have found themselves in this most uncompromising of positions in the Elf’s flat just a quick cab ride away from Santa’s village.

His lips brush over my jawline before moving down to my neck, his teeth catching on some skin. I feel his hands trying to undo all the knots on the front of my shift. At one point he just starts pulling at them in aggravation, a low groan falling past his lips and onto my skin. I can’t help but laugh, which only earns me a hard squeeze on both sides of my hips.

“You’re being rude,” he mutters. Again I laugh.

“I quite vividly remember somebody stealing my lunch out of the fridge today. Now that was rude.”

He lifts his head up so his green eyes can gaze into mine. The shade of them is darker. If it’s from the lack of light, or from annoyance at me and my dress, or just because of what I feel poking against my thigh under his red trousers, I’m not sure.

“Mabel,” he groans. I am very much dancing on his last nerve now.

“Harry,” I sing-song back. “You should be better at those knots by now, honestly. We’ve been going at this for weeks. You’ve had practice.”

“You mess them up like this on purpose. I know it.”

I met Harry Styles one day in the middle of November when Santa’s village opened for business at our city mall. Originally, he was supposed to be an elf just like me. But then the Santa the mall had hired had fallen ill, and Harry was asked to step up in replacement. He very much did not look like Santa, even with the beard and glasses he was forced to wear, but the children, and their parents, loved him so much, for reasons I could never comprehend, even with being with him as I am now. And because he was such a hit, the mall asked him to step in as Santa permanently.

Even from the first moment I met him, I knew no good would come of him. First off, green eyes were my weakness. But then he opened up that big dumb mouth of his and made fun of my (handmade but mall approved) elf costume. Well, now that costume was making fun of him.

“This feels like something that could end you up on the naughty list.”

With a big roll of my eyes, I kick the elf boots off my feet, hearing the bells on them jingle when they hit the ground.

Another check off on why I found him so detestable. He took his job way too seriously. And not as in he actually thought of himself as Santa, but more the power dynamic between Santa and his elf. Often times I was the punchline to a joke he was making to a child and their parent. All harmless, of course, but they wound their ways under my skin until I was ready to burst with annoyance. And the constant references on finding myself on the naughty list, if I hadn’t found myself in bed with him nearly every night since the day we met, I would show him what would actually get me on the naughty list. Also, he likes to steal my lunches, a big fault in his personality.

I hadn’t meant to start sleeping with him. We were five days into our working relationship when it happened. He often liked to turn everything into a game. The staring contest was our most popular, but there was also the quiet game, and sometimes even a race on who could get to the cab first. He loves a competition. I, on the other hand, find them rather aggravating, but that’s probably because I usually lose. But I don’t know. One second we were in the breakroom by ourselves having a tough match at the staring contest, and the next his lips were on mine. It was like all this tension I’d been feeling for him was slowly being released. And that night, with one of his arms wrapped around my shoulder as we both laid on our backs, his breath slow and steady with sleep, it was the calmest I’ve felt in a long time. I wanted to do it again, and I guess so did he. So unless one of us really has plans that they cannot cancel, we find ourselves most nights after work at one of our homes. Usually mine, since Harry has a nosey roommate.

“Oh poor me, I’m so worried.”

“Just help me get it off.” His pout is almost adorable. Focus, Mabel.

“Stop eating my lunches. I don’t make them for you.”

“So you did tangle them on purpose!”

I shrug, a smirk playing across my lips. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson. Only good boys get what they ask for.”

He nuzzles his head back against my shoulder, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “I promise to stop,” he whispers. The smile on his lips gives away his lie.

I hum in response. I push at his shoulders until finally he releases me and falls against the mattress on his back. His fingers brush against the back of my hand before I stand up and head over to the mirror. A knot like this would confuse Harry, but I know the ins and outs of it. It only takes me a few moments to get it free, but Harry still found himself bored waiting. I hear him fiddling around with the radio on my nightstand, landing on a station playing a Christmas Hits countdown. The first few cords of Santa Baby play through the speakers. Kylie Minogue starts to sing just as I turn to face him again.

His eyes grow wide as a shed the dress off my body, now only wearing pale green leggings. No matter how many times he’s seen me naked, he always makes it feel like the first. New. Exciting. Sexy.

He’s been sans his shirt and red coat for a while now, but his red trousers stand at my attention. One moment he’s on the bed, staring, and the next he’s on my like a lion on their prey. He throws me back on the bed before covering my body once more. Now his head travels down from my neck to my chest to my navel, humming along to the song the entire time.

“Been an awful good girl,” he mutters along with Kylie while peppering kisses against my hips as he peels the leggings off.

My fingers brush through his curls. I tug at them lightly before he moves any further down. He looks up at my with a question on his face.

“What’s going to happen after Christmas?” I whisper.

It’s been on my mind this last week. After tomorrow we would no longer be working together. We would no longer be seeing each other. I loate this man in front of me. But also, my heart has grown quite fond of him. And he’s really good with what he does in bed. Like really good. And sometimes he’s funny. Alright, a lot of the time he’s funny. And he really is kind, when he’s not trying to get a rise out of me. But we’d never put a label on this when we first started sleeping together. I don’t know what we are now. I don’t know what we will be. But I’d like to know now, to protect my heart if he decides to leave my life for good in two days.

He comes up again, pressing soft kisses against my lips until I’m smiling. “You don’t think you can get rid of my that easily, do you?”

“We never talked about-”

“I know. “But I’m not going to disappear after tomorrow. You’re too much fun to annoy to do that.”

“Oh shut it,” I mutter.

“With pleasure,” he grins before moving back south.

I don’t know what December 26th will bring, to see whether or not Harry and I have been living in a Christmas induced bubble. I don’t know if we’ll make it to the New Year. Maybe we could make it to Easter. But all I know for certain is right now, with Harry between my legs going as slow and tortuous as he can, and Kylie Minogue asking Santa to hurry down the chimney tonight. Kylie knew what she was talking about.

[antiracistkaren]

For Me, Christmas is Trauma

TW/CW: Death, overdose

I really didn’t want it to be that way, but it wasn’t up to me. Since I was born on Christmas, it’s really all I hear about. From birth, people wanted to really highlight the fact that I was born on Christmas Day. The nurses encouraged my mom to name me “Holly” or “Noel” but she went with something different (thank goodness). I have been asked “Do you get double Presents?” over 1 million times, and counting. I have been asked, “Oh... does it suck?” about 500,000 times.

And I heave a big sigh, every time it is brought up, and say:

If you want to know the truth, it’s complicated. I was born at 8:22 PM, and for some reason, my mom made a big deal out of the fact that it was not my birthday until 8:22 PM, and it was Christmas every minute up to that. As I got older, I really resented this, as even when family members outside of my house hold would wish me happy birthday, my mother could be heard screaming from the hills “....NOT UNTIL 8:22!”

In my teenage years, this began to truly grate on my nerves, since I had a niece and nephew who took center stage on Christmas. I loved being with them on Christmas Day, and I loved wrapping their toys, but what I didn’t love was that I couldn’t mix my birthday in and celebrate alongside them.

I asked my mom a few times about moving my birthday to my half-birthday (this is the solution that someone usually arrives at when I explain the above situation), June 25th. Mom would say, “But Dawn’s birthday is June 26th.”

Dawn. My sister was 14 years older than me. She was the mother of my niece and nephew. We had a tumultuous relationship, to say the least: when I was a kid she was fond of pinching me until I was screaming, or tickling me until I couldn’t breathe, or body slamming me on the couch, or trying to make me say something ugly to my mother (”tell mom she’s stupid!” she would whisper, and I would yell, “MOM! Dawn wants me to tell you you’re stupid.”)

To me, she was always pretty cool, although she would blow my spot up and tattle to my mother about anything. She would encourage me to drink at her house (in 6th grade), and then tell on me for it. She would allow a boy to come over and then would go out on dates, and then lied to my mother about it. That lie in particular broke our relationship: my mother hit me mercilessly and called me a liar over and over when the truth contradicted my older sister’s lie. But I can’t lie, really, especially not in emotional distress, because I am autistic. So no matter how hard I was hit, I wouldn’t change my story, which enraged my mother beyond rational capacity.

When she started doing drugs, though, she was not at all cool anymore. She had confessed to me trying oxy and saying they “felt really good,” but not liking pot because “it makes me paranoid.” She overdosed on December 26th, 2005, five years into an addiction that started with that first moment in 2000. For me, it was a moment where I kept a secret that I should have told, and for me it is a long line between this statement and the one where I was screaming “NO!” into the telephone to my mother choking out the words “Dawn’s dead.” 

You can see the issue here. My sister, who was in so much pain as a single mother she turned to drugs, died a horrific and sudden death on the day after my birthday.

And now, should I try to have a half-birthday, I am haunted on both ends. My birthday and her death juxtaposed, and a half-birthday and her birth, juxtaposed. She will forever be 36, and I will forever look back over my shoulder at her, instead of ahead of me where she should be.

Holidays during college, during the worst of her drug use, were full-on masking charades to me. I would have knots in my stomach, driving home, often having to pull over and breathe, or find a bathroom, I felt so sick. Dawn would be there, often high, with her kids looking hollow and wide-eyed. I would play with them and take them upstairs, or outside. We would make walks around the neighborhood together, and play Wii. Dawn would sometimes say something excoriating and then proceed to pass out on the couch. She would wake up and remember nothing she had said and done, cheerful and rested, a completely different than the sharp-tongued woman who had hurt me.

The Christmas Day before she died, I was so angry with her for living with another addict, for getting married again, and skipping visitation, that I refused to speak with her. I crossed my arms, shook my head no, and would not take the phone from my mother when it was my turn. Unfortunately, it was my last opportunity to say anything to her good or bad. Unfortunately, I cannot remember when I saw her before that... was it the spring before? I don’t know. It was inconsequential at that point, overshadowed by the guilt of what could have been done on Christmas Day, what I could have said to keep her alive.

So every year I mark time on a day that has never ever been about me. Another year older. Another year closer to the age when she died. And now, I move past her life. I go on without her, but I am so broken and hurt from this last year. I understand how much pain she was in, and how she died trying to numb herself from it. I understand that my passing the phone might have been the last jab she could take. I understand that it is not solely on me.

But I think about it.

So I am not really a big fan of Christmas. Having to put up decorations to the day that your sister overdosed feels fake. Celebrating and decorating are complete masks for me. If I had my way, I would take a week off from the world to think and ponder over the past year, to love on my sister’s memory in some way, and to honor the fact that I am still going. I am still fighting. And I know with confidence that I will Keep Going. Much like, even under pain, I could not lie. Even under extreme emotional distress, I cannot stop moving forward. I must move through this trauma every single year and try so hard to find the joy in it.

I know that I’m not alone in this. Trauma doesn’t care what time of year it is. The over-excited, everything-must-be-perfect, and isn’t-this-time-of-year-wonderful types of sentiments aren’t working for me. My Christmases past are morbid, tense affairs, and are mostly solemn to me. I put up the tree because custom demands that I do so for my children. 

To me, every year, it feels like I am putting sharp objects all around my house, poking at me with their bright lights and tinny sounds. Christmas is living breathing trauma for me, and I survive every year... but it feels like trauma the whole time.

[agriculturestudies]

Summer studying challenge

Second week review

From tomorrow I’m going to post more consistently. 

20th July - Do you usually go on vacation during the summer?

It depends, for the last three years we went to tourist resorts for a week or two. Sometimes we go to the shared houses we have in my extended family, but for the last five-ish years, because we renovated the countryside house, we go there (to the delight of my sisters (I’m kidding, they don’t like going there)).

21st July - What is the best vacation you have ever been on? (note: does not have to have been during summer)

In Christmas 2016 me and my father went to visit my aunt and cousin in Sydney. It was a cultural shock, Santa Clauses surfing? We don’t get that over here. I really enjoyed that and I nearly had the opportunity to go back there for my birthday this year because my cousin was getting married, but we had to postpone it.

22nd July -  What is your dream vacation?

Either going somewhere in North Europe or Asia, or Edinburgh because when I went there it was with a summer camp and I spent most of the time studying in a college.

23rd July - What is the worst vacation you have ever been on?

In summer 2018 I had the State Exam for my high school diploma (at the time a beautiful four days experience in a three weeks period) and in the midst of that sadly my father passed away. Because I felt like I hadn’t had the time to properly mourn, I was feeling slightly depressed, so my mother decided to have a change of scenery. I don’t know what was worse, the place, the people. Long story short, don’t let my sister choose where we have to spend the time.

24th July - What is your favourite vacation memory?

Form the Sydney vacation, we visited the aquarium. The closest I have ever been to a dugong. Loved it. Or that time when my father had to meet with friends from when he was a cadet, and the two of us with my mother spent the whole day going to Taranto and other places nearby. Don’t worry, my sisters were with entertainers from the tourist resort, we didn’t abandon them.

25th July - What was/is your favourite event or day in the summer? Are you a ‘summer person’ or do you prefer it when it is colder?

It’s not a specific day, but from the 10th/15th of August onward, the nights get progressively chillier and I like laying on the ground with a blanket watching the sky. (Never seen a shooting star on the 10th, but I like doing it nevertheless). I’m more of an autumn/winter person, mostly because when it’s hot I don’t feel very energized, hence why you can find me sometimes doing yard work at sunrise.

26th July - What is your typical daily routine in the summer?

If the night before was too hot, you won’t see me awake until 10/11 a.m. because I couldn’t sleep. Either in the morning or the afternoon I take my dog on a walk that is between 30mins to 2 hours long. I read. Since I can remember I always have to study during summer, so at least a chapter scattered along the day is done. If there’s a planned visit to a swimming place, I’m usually standing somewhere with water to my shoulders because I can’t swim and I’m terrified of deep waters.

[marriedandttc]

Here is a fun fact for you: 60% of our income for the past two years has gone directly into our infertility journey.

That’s far more money than we spend on food, utilities, clothing, prescription medications, and any other need.

For the past 51 months we have done nothing other than plan for, and do everything in our power, to start our family.

Every penny that we saved during our two year engagement and newlywed years was blown within two months of testing with our OB, back before IVF was even a thought.

During our marriage we have been lucky enough to have a lot of travels: Detroit, Chicago, Boston, Orlando! While all of those experiences are incredible memories they were only possible thanks to family vacations and birthday/Christmas gifts.

We haven’t invested in our happiness, relationship, or passions in over four years.

And that is changing in 2019.

We just finalized our reservation to return to Universal Studios - Orlando for my 26th birthday. 🎂 🎁 🍰

As we clicked “finalize booking” I was moved to tears, I can’t begin to explain how excited we are! For the next five/six months we are going to focus on planning our trip, saving for fun and different experiences there, and being together.

While our journey to expand our family won’t be ending I am allowing myself a few months to be happy, appreciate what I have, and not worry about fundraising.

I haven’t had a day without agonizing over OPK tests, blood work, and “baby making loans” since 2014.

This is long overdue.

It’s time we take some time to just be Mr. & Mrs. Russell and allow the “infertile” part of our marriage to be a minuscule part of our identity.

As I’ve alluded to this last IVF cycle failing has done a real toll on my well-being.

I’ve been seeing the same therapist since I was 18 years old, before I ever met my husband. We began diving into what I enjoy, what I care about, and what makes me tick. It took all of three minutes for me to realize... I don’t know anymore.

If it doesn’t have anything to do with our fertility journey, advocating personally and publicly, or fundraising I don’t have space for it in my heart. Sometime between “I do” in 2014 and today I lost every aspect of my personality.

I had widdled myself down to an infertile person and nothing more.

So I was tasked with thinking back: what last made me feel like me again?

And I instantly knew it was the moment I walked into Diagon Alley in Universal. For a few days I wasn’t infertile, I wasn’t distraught, I was a mother fucking wizard.

I told Stephen about this epiphany and we decided we needed a break. We needed to do something solely for us. We needed to be selfish with our love and fall hopelessly into each other.

So instead of putting our tax return on our IVF loan we booked a one week vacation. While we will “try” as we usually do, I’m not going to plan fundraisers or hunt down scholarships. During this time I’m going to relearn who I am and fall hopelessly in love with myself as a woman - not a hopeful mother.

I am excited. I am relieved.

I. Am. Free.

[morsmordrehasbeensaved]

CONGRATULATIONS JESSIE, YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AS FABIAN PREWETT WITH THE FACECLAIM OF KJ APA!

Your application was just pure perfection, Jessie! It ticked absolutely every box on what we’d imagined for our Fabian and added even more, his personality fit in so well with what you described in his biography, and his relationship with Gideon is already making me (his mun) super excited to start plotting with you! We are incredibly excited to have you here and can not wait to start writing with you. 

Check out our acceptance checklist right here on what to do next!

♔ OUT OF CHARACTER INFO ♔

NAME/ALIAS:  Jessie

AGE:  22

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/her

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY: EST. I would say my activity of course depends on what else is going on in my life, but I would say I am usually active for 2-3 days a week meaning that I am online for plotting and active responses and then I try to maintain replies throughout the week, getting to them when I can. (6/10)

TRIGGERS: REMOVED.

ANYTHING ELSE: REMOVED.

♔ IN CHARACTER INFO ♔

FULL NAME: Fabian Prewett

BIRTHDAY AND AGE: November 26th, 17 years old.

PRONOUNS: He/him

SEXUALITY/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heterosexual/Heteroromantic - He can be charming, but he isn’t a flirt like his brother. He doesn’t move very quickly in relationships and takes them very seriously.

EXTRACURRICULARS: Quidditch: Gryffindor Beater, Charms Club, Chess Club - All of these are wonderful and exactly where I would have placed him!

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ Determined: Despite spending his childhood incredibly ill, and combating his illness for most of his life, Fabian is not one to resign himself to fate. He has a can-do attitude with a make-it-happen mentality. Whether that’s in class, a Quidditch game, or through days where he doesn’t feel well, Fabian isn’t likely to let life push him around.

+ Motivated: His parents may have coddled and accommodated their youngest child who was suffering from illness, but Fabian had always been a highly motivated child. While he had no control over his physical health, Fabian refused to let it define him. He turned to books and games, such as chess, ready to learn all that he could so that someday, when he felt better, he’d be ready for anything.

+ Focused: When Fabian has his nose in a book, it is difficult to draw his attention away. In Quidditch the crowd rarely has an affect on his performance. He gives all of his attention on what is before him, scrutinizing every minute detail. Once he knows what he wants, all of his energy is devoted toward achieving it.

+/- Competitive: Growing up a step behind his twin brother who seems to have it all has pushed Fabian to work as hard as he can to match him. It’s not that Fabian wants to compare himself to his brother, it’s that he knows everyone else will and he refuses to be pitied or seen as inferior to his brother.

- Stubborn: As long as he can remember everyone has told him he couldn’t, wouldn’t, or shouldn’t do something due to his illness. Eventually he grew weary of everyone ordering him around and began fighting back. Sometimes he is too focused, without seeing the bigger picture, or too determined that he won’t let go of something that he really should.

- Reserved: Combating an illness for most of his life has meant spending days in bed. He is accustomed to spending time by himself, or with his family members. While his brother has no qualms about making new friends, Fabian isn’t always sure how to go about making his own. He’d rather let other’s make the first move.

- Jealous: Fabian is no stranger to his limitations, in fact he confronts them daily. He does his best to work through his condition and is jealous of those that everything seems to come easily for them when he has to work so much harder to achieve the same. While he wouldn’t wish his condition on anyone, he is often jealous of their good fortune.

BIOGRAPHY:

Poor, sick, little Fabian Prewett. The youngest of the Prewett twins and the smaller of the two at birth, it was known right away that something was wrong. A blood malediction, they discovered, had been dormant in his family for generations but somehow had affected him. He had his good days, some where he could even go outside and play with his twin brother Gideon and their sister Molly. And then there were his bad days, of which their were many, where he would find himself making yet another trip to St. Mungo’s where the doctors couldn’t fix him, they could only ease the pain.

His days were normally spent in bed, with no one but his family for company and even they couldn’t be with him all the time. Rather than resign himself to his boredom, or force Gideon to stay inside with him (he knew it was torture for his brother to sit still for very long) Fabian read anything and everything he could get his hands on. He was naturally clever and found he rather enjoyed games as well. His mother would play cards with Fabian for hours at a time, especially on the days he found himself in St. Mungo’s. His father was the one to teach him chess, and the set his parents gifted him for Christmas one year remains one of his most prized possessions.

When Molly first started attending Hogwarts it dawned on Fabian that soon his brother would leave for school as well. He knew if his condition didn’t improve, his parents might not let him go with Gideon. This was absolutely unacceptable. He agreed to start a new treatment at St. Mungo’s, desperate to find a cure so he wouldn’t be left behind. It took a few years to start seeing an improvement, and his parents were reluctant to let him go away to school in his condition. He had begged and pleaded to the point where they agreed to let him try, so long as he continued his treatments. Anticipating the amount of time he would miss at school, Fabian studied Molly’s old textbooks to make sure he wouldn’t fall behind.

His studying hadn’t been in vain. He missed quite a bit of classes, often winding up in the hospital wing or even back at St. Mungo’s on a few occasions. When this happened, however, he made sure to keep up with his studies so when he was back on his feet he could enjoy all Hogwarts had to offer. He joined the charms club, and had a knack for potions. It was a given he would join the chess club, but he surprised everyone when he tried out for Quidditch and even made the team.

The physical exercise did well for his health, and his competitive nature pushed him to compete even when he wasn’t feeling his best. He performed well, though to his dismay, not as well as Gideon. His brother still remained a step ahead of Fabian, despite all of his hard work to keep up. There were days at Hogwarts where Fabian couldn’t stand to be around his brother, but despite his jealousy, he’d never wish his curse on his brother.

Then, the summer before his final year at Hogwarts there had been a breakthrough. They had found a cure. It wasn’t some miracle fix that permanently eradicated the curse he carried in his blood, but it eased his pain and made it so he had more good days than bad. As soon as he began the new treatments, he felt as if weights had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never felt so wonderfully strong in his life. Of course, he had to remember to take his potion every morning, and even then it was possible to have a bad day, but it was the best he had ever felt.

Over the years, and especially with the discovery of a cure for his blood malediction, Fabian felt his jealousy toward his brother fade away and the two grew closer than ever. Gideon had always been Fabian’s best friend, he didn’t have very many after all, but he knew his illness had been hard on his twin brother. For Fabian, there was no hesitation in joining the Order with his brother and sister, but his newfound strength makes him ready to take on the world singlehandedly. Even so, Fabian’s cleverness and history of illness makes him more reserved and calculating than his impulsive twin.

ADDITIONAL INFO:

I really don’t have too much to add here. I just have to say how much I would love to explore the dynamic between Gideon and Fabian. As a multiple myself (I’m a triplet) I’d absolutely love to explore the unique relationship between the two brothers. It is so easy for multiples to feel overshadowed by, compared to, and tied to one another. But in the end, there’s a special relationship between them that is unlike any other.