#adding meaning to holidays

[ecscott]

When Silence Speaks Louder Freedom than Fireworks: A Fourth of July Sunday Psalm

One Fourth of July my dad, sister, younger brother, and I stayed in a naturally air-conditioned, gap-log miner’s cabin in Tincup, Colorado. Hiding on the west side of the Continental Divide in a rugged meadow at 10,157ft. Tincup was not your typical holiday destination. Gray Douglas firs, trout pocked beaver ponds, glacial creeks, and Craps with sugar cube dice and matchsticks for money were the…

[fisheito]

... peace on planet bottom, then there's whatever this is

[onesnoopyaday]

I AM AT MY LIMIT

Snoopy #90

30/12/2024

description under the cut

[description: a cartoon-style drawing of Snoopy's head. Snoopy is a white dog with black ears. His eyes are shut and his mouth is a horizontal line. There are two large blue teardrops, one under each eye. The text "I am at my limit" is handwritten across the top of the image.]

[velaraffricate]

worldbuilding can honestly be so slow and exhausting sometimes, i gotta figure out how like 50 interlocking systems work in detail before i can even start to think about writing my story

[therighthandofvengeance]

your faves might be black cat + golden retriever, but mine are orange cat + pitbull

[thedreadvampy]

I'm going to fucking kill someone how FUCKING hard is it to write down basic information??!???

[ceruleanfuckup]

I'm so excited for my D&D campaign

[emberwritesinsight]

International what now day?

[skitskatdacat63]

There's this nearly 4 hour movie I've been meaning to watch for a while and I was like "ah maybe ill watch it tonight hehe 🥰" and then I remember...quali is at 9 🫠

[autistic-harley-quinn]

Y'know given this commentary about "secretly being a Jedi" is very clearly about the whole her repeatedly flagging her own queerness for years on end it would be like if Tay 'lor Spiff kept referencing Jedi works in her music, using the same social cues that the rebellion use to signal to each other that they're part of the rebellion, uses the force onstage while hanging out with obi wan and Mace windu, publicly declared her allegiance to the rebellion, and wore Jedi/rebellion color scheme repeatedly, write several songs about the rebellion will win in the end and she's on their side, had a song making fun of the sith and empire on the setlist of her intergalactic tour, had Jedi friends who publicly hint that she's also a Jedi, and STILL all the people who know being out as a Jedi/Rebellion soldier isn't the safest thing in the world are going

"No clearly she's on the side of the empire and has never once been even a little force sensitive or even a little rebellious. All of those things are coincidences and you're all crazy conspiracy theorists for thinking it's even possible she's a Jedi."

"She's Jedi-baiting you!" Okay then you have to admit that her Jedi friends in the entertainment industry are complicity silent and at times actively participating in the Jedi-baiting, meaning the "real Jedi" you keep telling me to support are helping a sith hint at being a Jedi and hanging out with her like it's fine? That makes more sense to you than maybe she's just not as loud of a Jedi as you've grown used to? I remember when publicly calling yourself a Jedi could get you killed, it still can, we've made great progress in the rebellions acceptance in society but we have not overthrown the empire yet. Do you not remember how in Star wars some rebels were actively fighting out in the daylight as rebels and some were doing other things like gathering supplies, sending aid, political negotiations, corporate dealings? Some may have been force sensitive but never trained in the ways? Some may have become a Jedi but don't say that to everyone they meet?

in my head the star wars equivalent of tswift is some human woman named tay’lor spiff or something and her stans are losing their minds over theories that she’s secretly a jedi singing about the horrors of war, even though she’s from a neutral system that hasn’t seen so much as a moral panic in 50 years

[audiovisualrecall]

Lol I just realized/learned that my mom's passover rolls are pât à choux lolol

[midshipmank]

I really appreciate that you’re trying to raise awareness about when our holidays are!

However, in 2023:

Rosh Hashanah begins at sundown on Friday, September 15th, and ends at sundown on Sunday, September 17th. Friday is “Erev Rosh Hashanah” (Rosh Hashanah Eve), Saturday is Rosh Hashanah proper, and Sunday is Rosh Hashanah II. The extra day was added in ancient times for people living in the diaspora, for reasons (it would take a bit to explain).

Yom Kippur begins at sundown on Sunday, September 24th, and ends at sundown on Monday, September 25th. Unlike Rosh Hashanah (among other holidays), no additional day is ever added to Yom Kippur because it is a full fast day. It was also easy to figure out when Yom Kippur was, even for people of the ancient diaspora, because it’s always 10 days after Rosh Hashanah.

Hey. Gentiles. Listen up for a sec.

When September and October are nearing and you’re planning an event: google “Rosh Hashanah *year*” and *Yom Kippur *year*” and then, and I cannot stress this enough, don’t plan your event on those days. In fact, don’t plan any events starting sundown the night before. Those are the three most important days of the Jewish calendar, and, once again, I cannot stress enough how much this little bit of forethought and kindness will make every Jew you know cry tears of joy.

[eggy-tea]

shout out to my girl paprika recipe manager. thirteen years together and i still love her just as much as the day we first met.

[yanderedrabbles]

A Very Yandere Valentine

In your desperation to make a man fall in love with you, you try a love spell. The results are...debatable.

February was your least favourite month for a reason. You were broke from Christmas, still single, and your resolution to go to the gym every week was coming along horribly. It was blistering cold, but without the holiday cheer and shopping sales to make the weather bearable.

And if all that wasn't enough, you were stuck seeing happy couples everywhere you looked. The Valentine themed ads were everywhere - you couldn't even watch YouTube without some company reminding you exactly how lonely you were.

But things were going to be different this year.

This year, you finally had a crush on someone. You finally had some chemistry to keep you from feeling like the most unlovable single in existence. This year, you were going to have your romantic, picture perfect Valentine’s Day.

Just one little issue. Your Valentine had a girlfriend.

Who he loved. Or at least claimed to. You were skeptical. Would a man in love follow you like a puppy? Would he open doors for you and bring you coffee every morning?

If he did that for everyone in the office, maybe you wouldn't be kneeling in a circle of candles at midnight. But no. He went out of his way everyday just for you. He wasn't a very talkative person, but when he followed you into the break room, you'd end up yapping for much longer than your HR would approve of.

He was different with you. You were special to him, you knew it in your heart.

You didn't realise he had a girlfriend until one of your other coworkers told you. And oh boy, wasn't that a fun revelation. At first you were hurt. Why was he leading you on if he had a partner? Were you reading too much into this whole situation? What if he was just being nice to you and you totally misinterpreted it?

You tried to put distance between you and him. Tried to respect that someone else had a claim to him, even if he might have been flirting with you.

It didn't work.

He would look at you with those liquid brown eyes and you'd feel your resolve and your morals just melting.

As you lit the last few candles for the ritual, you reminded yourself that at least you tried to be the better person. If this was a moral failing, it wasn't one that you gave into easily.

And maybe this was for the best. If he was comfortable enough to flirt with you, didn't that mean he wasn't happy in his relationship? If your silly little spell worked, it might give him the courage to finally break things off. It would be kinder to both him and his partner.

"It's fine if I'm doing it for love," you told yourself.

You lit the final candle and sat back on your heels. There was a shallow bowl in front of you, filled with milky white water. It certainly looked mystical with the candlight flickering across the surface. Now if it would just be mystical...

You picked up the first of your twelve roses - one for each month of the year. You plucked off the petals one by one and dropped them into the water. Like a more wiccan version of he-loves-me he-loves-me-not. With each petal, you tried to picture what you wanted from the relationship. Kindness. Loyalty. Consideration. Love.

It was easy to do. Your man was an easy man to love. You could already picture him in your home - making late morning pancakes in nothing but his sweats, sprawled on your couch reading one of your beat up paperbacks, in your bed. He was meant be yours, you could feel it. Why else-

"Ow! Shit, that hurt!" You looked down at your finger and the rose thorn embedded deep in your skin. Blood was already welling up around it.

"Goddamit. Why now?"

A single drop rolled off your finger and plinked into the bowl. It sunk past the rose petals and turned a small part of the water a sickly pinkish colour.

You carefully pulled the thorn out and stuck your finger in your mouth. It must have went in far deeper than you thought, because your whole finger throbbed. You looked down at the last rose left unplucked. So close to finishing...

You sighed and stood up, stepping carefully out of the circle. You were too worried about the chance of infection to finish your ritual. And besides, whatever daydreams you had weren't going to come back while you were still dripping blood all over the place.

In the bowl, the rose petals drifted until they covered the entire surface. When you emptied the bowl, you were too tired to wonder if the blood poisoned your spell. To tired to notice the petals curling up and wilting long before their time.

You woke up with a wine hangover and a throbbing pain all through your finger. Usually you'd power through it and go to work, but you didn't want to see your crush. Didn't want to be reminded that you were once again alone on Valentine's.

You called in sick to work, took some antibiotics for your finger and curled up under your duvet. As if the universe was sympathising with your mood, the low grey clouds that hung around all week finally burst. Cold February rain drummed on your windows while you picked out your favourite comfort movie.

Yet another romantic Valentine's all on your own. Lucky you.

You were just about drifting off when the knocking started. Loud and impatient at your front door, aggressive enough that you jerked out of bed with a yelp.

"Coming!"

You didn't have any parcels being delivered today, did you? And you certainly weren't expecting guests. Not in the middle of the week, and certainly not when it was so miserable outside.

You opened the door half expecting the person to be long gone. They couldn't have been here for you.

Your co-worker was standing on your threshold, still in his suit with his tie damp and askew.

"Y/n! Thank God, I was so worried about you."

You could only blink at him. How the hell did he know your address? You certainly never mentioned it. And what was he doing here in the middle of the work day?

"Aren't you going to let me in?"

You jumped. "Shit, sorry. Please come in."

You stood aside, self consciously trying to smooth down your hair. He was carrying a packet of some kind. He set it down on your kitchen table before shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it across the back of your chair. He was so oddly at ease in your apartment, like a man coming home after a long day rather than a guest in a new place.

You followed him, still feeling like this whole interaction was a fever dream. Maybe the rose thorn from last night really was poisonous and you were somehow hallucinating your office crush unpacking a whole slew of takeout onto your kitchen counter.

"Um..." You decided to abandon any ideas of tact. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come into work today. Didn't even call me." He looked up at you. "I was worried about you."

"Oh." Despite the strangeness of this whole encounter, butterflies were fluttering in your belly. "You noticed I wasn't there?"

He shrugged and went back to arranging the stuff he brought. "I always notice you."

There were about half a dozen takeout containers, all from your favourite places. He continued, "I figured the weather must be getting to you, so I decided to check on you. Really y/n, you've got to tell me if you're not going to be around. I was frantic when you didn't show up."

It was so like him to turn a nice gesture into a lecture. So strict all the time, so proper. You couldn't help but smile - it was all part of what made you like him so much. All prickly on the outside, all care within.

He pulled out a chair and nodded at you to sit. His hair was slightly damp from the rain and falling loose from its carefully gelled back style. This was the most out of sorts you'd ever seen him. And all of it over you? Come on, how was a girl just supposed to ignore that?

He pushed your chair in behind you and leaned forward to pull a container closer to you, his arm right next to your ear and his cologne thick in your nose. Your heart leapt. He did the same thing at work all the time, one hand right by your shoulder as he pointed out your mistakes on the monitor. Maybe you were delusional, but would a guy who treasured his personal space - who stepped back whenever anyone else was within half a foot of him - really get so close to you if he didn't like you?

"Here, eat up. I got them to make it special." He was so close that his voice felt like a rumble more than anything else. You could almost feel it in your bones.

"Aren't you going to join me?" you asked.

"Nope. It's all yours."

He stayed behind you while you ate, his forearms crossed on the backrest. You were acutely aware of him watching you.

"What are you doing for Valentine's tonight?"

Were you sleep deprived or was there a hard edge to his voice when he asked you that?

"I might have a date later," you lied.

You didn't see it, but his grip on your chair tightened.

"Really? With who?"

"Just some friend from the gym."

You cringed internally. That was such a bad lie. You didn't even know anyone at the gym. You tried to change the topic.

"You? I'm sure you've got something planned with your girlfriend."

He was quiet for a moment, and then, "What girlfriend?"

Huh? You turned in your chair to look up at him. His expression was entirely serious.

"Your girlfriend? I asked Jenny from marketing and she said you were dating someone. That it was serious."

He raised a brow. "You were asking about my dating life?"

Crap. Too late to back down now.

"Mm-hmm. I was just curious. And you never really mentioned anything, so..."

"So you asked Jenny from marketing?"

Could the ground just do you a favour and swallow you now? That would be much lessless painful than admitting to your office crush that you were kind of, sort of stalking him.

"...yes? Look, I know it wasn't my place. And that I was totally invading your privacy. I'm really sorry. I can't imagine how uncomfortable I'm making you and honestly -"

"Y/n," he cut you off, "I don't have a girlfriend."

Huh?!

"But Jenny said -"

"Jenny is annoying and flirtatious. I just said that so she'd leave me alone."

"So I didn't have to do the love spell?"

You smacked a hand over your mouth. Too late. He tilted his head, smiling.

"The what?"

You turned away from him, your face on fire. Stupid love spell. Stupid brain. Stupid mouth that doesn't know when to shut up.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. You sure you don't want some of this soup? It's great. Really robust flavour."

He leaned down and grabbed your hand before you could pick up your spoon. His face was right next to yours but you'd rather swallow a cactus than face him after what you just admitted.

"Let me get this straight," he said, sounding unfairly amused. "You asked Jenny if I was dating someone. She said yes, and your solution to that problem - instead of just, y'know, asking me about it - was to do a love spell?"

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Lord in heaven, please have mercy and send a meteor right at my apartment. Just a little one, doesn't even have to be bigger than a car.

"I was really drunk, okay? And I just... I just didn't want to be alone on Valentine's. It's the same every year, and it sucks. I'm sorry. It was dumb and stupid and naive."

"Definitely all those things, yes."

You flinched. He ignored you and continued.

"Not to mention selfish, dangerous and honestly a little bit toxic."

"Yeah, I get it." And to think you called the lonely Valentine's the worst ones. You sighed, looked down at your lap. This day couldn't possibly get worse.

"Y/n."

He didn't wait for you to answer. He just kissed you. One hand pulling your jaw up towards him, the other still resting on the back of your chair and tangling itself in your hair.

You gasped, too shocked to either pull away or kiss him back. Was this really happening?

Slowly, you brought your hand up and ran it through his hair. And oh, he practically purred.

"Silly thing. Never needed a love spell to make me like you."

He pulled you to your feet, hands coming to your waist and thumbs tracing over your ribs. You felt electric, every little movement making you buzz.

"Been wanting to do this since the first day I saw you." Another kiss, deeper, longer, somehow even hungrier. "How couldn't you notice?"

You leaned against his chest, lightheaded. "I thought you were being nice."

He laughed and you could feel it rumbling through his chest. He dropped one hand to your mid thigh, squeezed.

"I'm never nice. If you knew all the things I was thinking whenever we were next to each other, you'd run for the hills."

You met his eyes, feeling brave. "What sort of things?"

He smiled, but his eyes were dark. For a second, it scared you.

"I could show you."

Was he offering what you thought he was? You could have been modest, could have simpered and pulled away and played the blushing coquette. But you'd be a liar if you said you didn't want this, that you hadn't wanted to be in this exact scenario for weeks.

"Please," you said, looping your arms around his neck. "Show me."

He picked you up by your thighs and sat you down on the counter, your legs around his waist. His palms came to rest on your hips, heat bleeding through the thin cotton of your pyjama pants.

"This." He kissed your neck.

"And this." He ran his hand down your thigh, his thumb just barely brushing the edge of your panties.

"And very much this." He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you, tongue darting past your teeth and filling your mouth with the taste of him.

He was still slightly chilly from being outside, but you were boiling up and the contrast was a relief. You kissed him back, not quite as bold but just as wanting.

Did your drunken love spell actually work? Or were you just the luckiest girl in the city?

He loosened his tie. "I've got all day. How about I give you the best Valentine's day you've ever had?"

"Where do you want to start?"

He smirked, toying with the hem of your shirt.

"Oh, I think you know exactly where I want to start."

You takeout grew cold on the counter and the rain stopped and the sun dipped below the skyline before he was done with you.

You were still panting underneath him, your hands tied to the headboard with his tie when he finally decided he was satisfied.

"Wow... I didn't realise you had it in you," you breathed.

He wiped his mouth on his forearm, a glistening trail of spit and spunk.

"Oh yeah? Thought I was too tight buttoned to have fun?"

It was silly to be embarrassed after all the things he'd heard you say, but still...

"I honestly thought you'd be a lot more vanilla."

He laughed and crawled up your body, until his hands were on either side of your head. He leaned down and pecked your nose.

"And now?"

"And now I'm wondering what I did to get so damn lucky. My karma must be amazing."

He undid your hands, deft fingers moving through a complicated set of knots and pulls. You smiled. Oh, he was definitely a boy scout at some point.

"You should eat something. You've lost a lot of...fluids."

That made you giggle.

"And whose fault is that?"

There were slight marks on your wrists and he careful rubbed them.

"Mine. Terribly sorry about it beautiful." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

You were wobbly when you stood up, and it was only his arm around your waist that kept you from falling straight back into bed.

"I'm staying over tonight, by the way."

It was so like him to just decide he was invited. Still, you were absolutely not complaining. It was exactly what you wanted too. Strange, how he almost always seemed to know exactly what you wanted.

You fell asleep tucked against his side, sore and aching in the best possible way. In the rational part of your mind, you assumed that your love spell was just a silly lapse in judgement brought on by too much wine and far too many rom-coms. But if you could see the way he watched you when you slept, you might have started to question that assumption.

He brushed your hair away from your forehead, half frowning.

"Silly thing. I've been in love with you for so long."

He glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table. Hopefully you wouldn't notice it, but he'd slipped a tiny camera behind the clock face. Same with your TV, bathroom mirror and the top of your fridge. There were at least half a dozen cameras hidden throughout your apartment.

Having you tied to the bed and distracted helped. You didn't notice him slipping off for just a bit longer than getting a glass of water or using the bathroom would warrant.

Unethical, yes. A total invasion of privacy. And if you ever found them, you'd be totally justified in getting a restraining order. But still...

"It's fine if I'm doing it for love," he told himself.

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory is considered a Christmas movie???

[esveon]

mha reactions to their kid being disrespectful towards their mom ?

mom! reader, girl dads! tdbkdk, inspired by the newest scenes i had to witness of my little cousin this holiday season. i can't use my childhood because i met 'mr belt' and i never misbehaved since.

IZUKU MIDORIYA as . . . the nice cop.

— izuku would probably be gentle with his parenting, and that's why he's in this situation in the first place. he's the type of parent that tries to reason with his child with a very nice voice, which ends up accidentally raising a manipulative child. even so, he'll never raise his voice towards his child, but he'll definitely get more serious. especially if she's being disrespectful towards his wife.

it was a tranquil sunday afternoon, where you and your family had visited izuku's mother for lunch. excited for the community pool, your daughter went dressed in her green sundress and her little mermaid swimsuit underneath. her smile dropped when she heard the news.

"i'm sorry, sweetie, the pool is closed!" you frowned, to which your daughter started crying. trying to comfort her, you guided her towards the bathroom to change clothes. what you weren't expecting though, was...

"don't touch me! leave me alone, you witch!"

izuku had never sprinted towards you faster in his life, eyes widened in disbelief. he lowered down to his daughter's height, as he called her attention. "hey kiddo, you didn't really mean that, right?"

your daughter nodded, "mommy won't let me go to the pool" she cried. "she's mean and a witch!"

izuku sighed as he patted his daughter's head, ruffling her hair. "the pool is closed, baby. we can come back tomorrow when it opens, okay? but never call mommy that again, yeah? you hurt her and my feelings that way. now, apologize to your mom."

"'m sorry mommy."

"and you'll never go to the pool again" you whispered to your husband, to which he nodded. "and then, maybe, we won't take you to the pool because you weren't nice to mommy. you have to love your mommy and treat her well" he added.

your daughter cried some more because she would never go to the pool again.

KATSUKI BAKUGO as . . . the restrained cop.

— katsuki would try to be gentle, but with his tone of voice, it would come out horribly. and if. his daughter is an exact copy of him? he would be pissed off and would probably ask you to reason with her first, because fighting fire with fire is horrible. when he finds out your daughter is disrespectful to you, though, he has to control himself not to scream at his child.

trying to teach your daughter to eat different foods was hard. and during the holidays? it was a nightmare.

when you sat beside her trying to spoon-feed her a small piece of turkey, she gagged. "gross! i'm not hungry. mommy made gross food! ew, ew, ew!"

katsuki's head quickly turned to the table where you sat, trying to reason with your daughter. as you fed her the food, she chewed it, and then opened her mouth. she spit. the food. on her hand.

katsuki had a face that read 'i know damn well she didn't, as he stepped closer. when you asked your daughter to please eat and to not waste any food, she snapped.

"shut up mommy!"

"who do ya think yer talking to, kid? huh? that's your mom" katsuki snaps, which earned a sob from his daughter. he realized he should've used a softer tone, but tough love, right? he was raised like that and he turned out fine.

"kid, do you know that mommy's hurt by the way you talked to her? see how ya started cryin' when i yelled? momma feels that way when ya don't treat her well. apologize."

your kid had never apologized quicker.

muttering a soft 'thank you', you turned to your daughter and helped her clean up her hand. katsuki, in the meantime, started wondering.

was the turkey he baked really that gross?

SHOTO TODOROKI as . . . the traumatized cop?

— shoto would try to do everything he can to not resemble his father. and if he ended up with a troubled kid, he would be very patient. if his daughter is disrespectful to his wife, he'd definitely be upset. he would also try to reason with her. he would pull the 'you wanna know how i got this scar' if things get really serious.

when you and your daughter were arguing upstairs, as you tried to dress her up for another todoroki family reunion. when she didn't want to get dressed, she cried.

"i'm going to tell daddy you hit me."

"sweetheart, please listen to me—"

bang.

your daughter threw herself onto the desk to her right, and started weeping more tears as she wailed, "daddy, mommy hit me!"

shoto ran up the stairs to find your weeping daughter and you with the most distressed look on your face. "did you?" he asked, to which you scoffed. "do you really think—"

"—i know you'd never" shoto cut you off, "but i had to ask. she needs to learn about trust, and not to lie."

your husband turned to her daughter, picking her up and cradling her on his arms. "where does it hurt?" he asked, as your daughter pointed at her forehead. his lips placed quick, caring kisses on your daughter's forehead as his expression turned more serious. "i want you to tell me the truth, (daughter's name). did mommy really hit you?"

your daughter looked around, her gaze finally fixating on the ground as she muttered a quiet 'no'.

"then why did you say that?"

she cried some more as she muttered nonsense into your husband's shoulders. shoto's hand cupped her cheek so she would look at him. "do you know how i got this scar?", he asked, to which she shook her head.

"my family was not very nice, and i ended up hurt" he stated, "and mommy is doing everything she can for you to feel loved. is this how we should be with mommy?"

your daughter shook her head.

"your mommy is very caring and nice with you, and we should be the same way with her. now, what do we say to her?"

"...sorry mommy."

"that's much better, my love. let's not do this again."