#the classic 'why are your hands so cold here let me help' and 'dap me up seven-million times until it makes a clean enough sound'

[tismeandmylife]

wow just wow

also

When did I become a side character in my everyone's romance novels???

literally I feel like that single bestie that's in every rom-com or romance book just there for comforting the main character and being like "oh my gosh he loves you" and "go after her"

really

[violettelueur]

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || PLEASE COME OVER HERE

| featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1579

| published : 30 december

| request : If this is where requests are taken from I would like to request a fushiguroXreader(female). This time I'll be a sick fushiguro who tries to hide it but gets caught when the fever gets worse. It's could be a fever or a migraine(or both) caused but too much work.

| barista’s notes : hi hi guys~ this is the last of the remaining request that i needed to complete ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ meaning all the request that i had when i closed the cafe (request box) ARE DONE! however, like i had mentioned before, i will be writing a few of my own imagines that i had planned before i open my cafe back again ʕ·ᴥ·　ʔ also i didn’t know if it was the reader that was suppose to be sick or fushiguro, so i do apologies if i got the request wrong ʕ º ᴥ ºʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

‘Now this is extremely irritating to look at’

At this current moment in time, you were intensely staring at the brightly lit screen that was in front of you with the image of your text message being read but never replied to - which irritated you more than ever since this was your boyfriend you were talking about. Even though you knew Fushiguro wasn’t the type to express his emotions forwardly like Itadori or Kugisaki, you understood that he was trying since the both of you got together which you appreciated deeply.

From what you could recall from yesterday, Fushiguro was struggling to keep up with your daily training session you would both have together, leading you to call if off pretty early so he could have time to rest to which, of course, he declined at first saying that he could go on. However, you forced him to go regardless of what he said. Going on further from what you could remember, the second you had helped him up, you felt that his hands were a little warmer than what they usually were causing a gradual feeling of worry to grow in your stomach to which the shikigami user quickly dismissed the second he saw the concerned look expressed on your face - but that didn’t even help at all.

Without taking another look at your phone, you instantly started to make your way around the school to Fushiguro’s dorm, knowing that was the only place he could be since everyone had an off day today. Quickly making your way through the corridors, you were finally arrived at the front door of his door causing you to look at the wooden plank in complete annoyance before deciding it was time to make your presence known.

“Hey Megumi, I know you’re in there, open the door now,” you stated loudly to make sure he heard your command, only to be greeted with silence leading to your annoyance to evolve into complete irritation. “Hey Fushiguro Megumi, don’t make me kick this door down. You not only have the audacity read my text message but had the confidence to decide to not even reply to it!” you mentioned to him, before grabbing hold on the doorknob, only to find that his door was unlocked.

Confused at this discovery, you slowly began to twist the handle to then carefully invite yourself into his room only to find that it was nearly completely dark with the only light source that was available was the warm sunlight coming from the small gap that the curtains failed to cover. From your quick inspection of the room, nothing was really out of the ordinary, everything was neat and organised just how he usually left his room. The plates were washed and leisurely drying on the dish rack, the books he was currently reading were towered on the coffee table as well as his shoes being smartly placed that side of the front door. The only thing that was not in the ordinary was the person in bed right now.

Usually, at this time of day, Fushiguro would be up and moving yet here he was laying in bed with his back turned to you. Taking a few steps closer, you reached to the foot of his bed before peeking over slight to see if anything was up, only to be surprised at the amount of sweat you could see from his face as well as the slightly pained expression on his face causing you to quickly place your hand on top of his forehead while using the back of your other hand to compare your temperature to his.

‘This stupid idiot’

Quickly, you opened the curtains slightly to get more decent lighting in before you made your way to his kitchen to fetch a large plastic bowl you could find, as you then quickly made your way to his bathroom to fill it up with water before grabbing the closest face towel you could find and dip it into the cold water that was now filling up the bowl. Turning off the tap, you carefully made your way back to his bedside and placed the water bowl on this side table before gently turning his body so he could lay on his back.

‘That was the reason why he couldn’t keep up with training yesterday, he has a fever’

“Hey Mimi, is it okay that I take off your shirt? I need to wipe off the sweat to cool you down,” you asked in a gentle tone, knowing that being mad at him for not telling you wasn’t the best time right now, only for him to groan at your request leading you to assume that was good permission enough for you to do so. Cautiously, you gripped the bottom of his shirt before gently pulling it up to reveal his bare chest to which then you carefully pulled it over his head and placed it in the washing basket only to then immediately grabbed the towel from the bowl and twist it to remove the excess water before lightly dapping his body to help wipe away the sweat as well as help cool him down.

“You idiot, why didn’t you tell me that you were sick? I was really worried you know,” you muttered as you continued to dap the towel on his body before placing it back in the bowl to repeat the whole process with his face next.

After some time, you were able to somehow get Fushiguro in a clean shirt with the now folded cold face towel placed on his forehead while you were planted on the floor next to his bed with one hand holding your phone, scrolling through whatever app you were trying to find interesting with the other being occupied with holding the shikigami user’s hand in a sort of way to comfort him during these unfortunate times as you waited for the soup you had prepared earlier to heat up.

From what you could get yourself busy with while waiting for him to wake up from his nap, you found out that Fushiguro was going to text you back when you found his phone on the floor on the other side of the bed while you were cleaning up the minimal mess you could find with a half typed text on the message box.

“Please come ov-”

Looking over to the dark-haired shaman, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you didn’t come over sooner than you should, leading you to hold his hand tighter in a way to comfort you now. Realising that you needed to turn off the stove, you quickly got up only for you to be pulled back leading you to fall back on a soft mattress with the arm that pulled you down now placed on your shoulders.

“Stay,” you heard someone whisper, causing you to look up only to find a pair of ocean eyes looking back at you. “Mimi, I need to turn off the stove, is it okay that I do that first? I’ll come back I promise,” you softly asked him, trying to convince him that you were coming back due to the feeling of his hold tightening around your shoulders. “I promise,” you repeated to Fushiguro, leading him to finally slowly lift up his arm to let you go, causing you to quickly get up and turn off the stove since you knew if you didn’t go back to him soon, he would start to whine.

After turning off the stove and somehow managed to prepare a bowl of soup for the sick boy without hearing a noise of complaining, you slowly made your way to his bed with a tray in hand, only to find the sick boy in question instantly staring at you with a pout as the towel somehow managing to stay on his head.

‘How long has he been staring that way?’

“I promised, didn’t I?” you said with a smile as you lifted up the tray to show him what you were doing for him to wait longer than he wanted. However, this time Fushiguro didn’t give you a verbal reply but rather a physical one as he raised up his hand, causing you to look at him in confusion as you walked over to the bed to place the small tray down, slightly pushing the bowl aside - but to too much that it would fall over. Realising that his hand was still somewhat raised up, you gently took it in your grasp causing Fushiguro to put a small smile on his face.

“Please come over here,” Fushiguro then stated, causing you to look at him with a surprised expression before quickly taking the towel off his forehead and into the bowl to which then you quickly settle yourself onto the bed leading to Fushiguro to quickly wrap his arms around your body while using his hand to pull your head on to the crook of his neck.

From what you could feel right now, Fushiguro’s body temperature was cooler than what it once was when you last checked, which was quite surprising and somewhat impressive since he hadn’t had any medicine yet. However, before you could even tell him that he needed to take his medication, you were disturbed by the sound of his breathing becoming steady leaving you to figure out that he had fallen back to sleep.

“I’m right here, Mimi”

[breakingsomething]

french toast

basic summary: jameson makes breakfast.

trigger warnings: read the tags! i was worried putting the warnings here would spoil the fic, so look in the tags if you want to know :)

the sun came up the same every morning. five am exactly, jameson knew. time was something he was intimately familiar with in a way he couldn't explain. it ran through his veins with his blood. it rang in his ears every second of the day. it burned in his fingers and warmed every tear that he spilled. he owned it. there wasn't another man living who was as powerful as he was.

and nobody knew it but him.

it was far too cold in the bed. jameson couldn't feel anti beside him. that wasn't unusual, or normally wouldn't be, except for the fact that it was very early and he knew anti hadn't gone to bed until just past two. he'd heard him having a nightmare at twenty past three. after that he'd gone silent, and jameson had properly slept. now, he sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the empty, slowly lightening room. he wished they has curtains, but he supposed beggars couldn't be choosers when it came to a situation like theirs.

looking around, it made him wonder what the creator's boys were doing right now. probably all still sleeping, maybe eating food that they hadn't stolen or fought tooth and nail for. maybe when they woke, they'd take a shower without worrying about the hot water bill for a house not registered under their name. maybe they'd dress in clothes they picked out themselves. maybe they'd spend the day thinking of pastries and youtube videos and magic and jewelry and whatever else people thought of. not a thought to be spared for anyone else. jameson almost snorted at the thought.

his bare feet padded to the door, the silence almost deafening. his heart raced in his ears. a-n-t-i? he knocked on the doorframe, to which he got no response. probably for the best. definitely for the best. gave jameson a bit more time.

he went over to the cupboard and quickly pulled on some proper clothes, a blue hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms with mismatched socks that had holes at the top. drank some water that he'd left on his bedside. then he pulled out something that he'd hidden in between his sketchbook pages and slipped it in his pocket, along with something else that he'd hidden in his shoes. just as precautions. eventually, he went to the bathroom and quickly brushed his hair with his fingers before slowly making his way downstairs.

anti was sitting at the kitchen table. he didn't look up when jameson came in, though; he was slumped over with his face in his arms, whistling softly in his sleep. jameson wasn't used to seeing him in just a t-shirt, and for a moment he just stared at his ink black tattoos, marred by raised pink scars from an event jameson hadn't been around to witness, which he was grateful for. anti's hair was getting long too, falling in curls around his freckled face. right now, it was almost hard to look at him and see him as a manipulative murderer, a torturer, an actor and a kidnapper and a liar and a thief. but jameson knew he was. he always had been.

he wished he could have seen it earlier.

he made breakfast. he'd managed to convince anti that he wanted to try his hand at cooking, and his brother had relented after just a few days of begging for ingredients. eggs, vanilla extract, yoghurt and berries - french toast was on the menu this morning. by the time anti had slowly begun to stir, the scent had filled the warm kitchen, making the house that wasn't theirs feel so much more cosy. anti yawned, shaking his arms out and wincing. jameson watched him with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile, waiting for his brother to notice him.

it took a moment before he did. "oh - morning, dap," anti mumbled, scrubbing sleep from his eyes. "what the fuck're you… it's, like, six am, shouldn't even you still be asleep?"

jameson grinned, holding up the two plates he'd already set up and placing the left one proudly in front of anti. "toast," he signed as soon as he had both hands free. "french toast. also, i'm an early bird. figured i'd use my time well."

he sat at the table and slid a fork across the table to a surprised anti, who caught it and stared down at his plate in amazement. "you absolute mad lad, dapper," he grinned, brown eyes flashing. "i knew it was a good idea to let you buy all that shit."

that was bullshit. anti hadn't wanted to buy it at all, and jameson had had to behave perfectly to his older brother's standards in order to get it. like a dog being rewarded with a treat. jameson bit his lip hard and didn't respond, forcing a smile onto his face.

they dug in, the two of them eating in relative silence as a conversation was difficult to have when one party couldn't speak without their hands. jameson tapped the edge of his plate with his fork, the sound ringing out in the quiet. his hoodie pocket felt suddenly very heavy, despite it now being lighter than before.

"doing anything today?" he asked once he'd eaten a few bites, setting the fork down at the side. he didn't feel very hungry. anti bobbed his head and held up a hand while he swallowed, coughing into his hand immediately after.

"i have to go shopping soon, actually," he said, drumming his fingers on the table to a tune jameson didn't recognize. "do we need anything specific? i can definitely get more of this shit if we need any, ha. i know we need, uhh… fuck, my head hurts and i don't remember shit." he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. "d'you know, dap? anything important?"

jameson waited for anti to remember that he wouldn't be able to hear his brother's reply and sheepishly open his eyes before responding. "i don't think we'll need anything. as far as i'm aware, it's all taken care of."

anti furrowed his brows, frowning. "i'm sure we… needed something. i dunno what it was." he yawned again, shivering. "christ, it's gotten dead cold in here. and for some reason, i'm still tired as shit."

"why'd you sleep down here?" jameson asked. might as well ask. anti did love to talk about himself.

it took the man a moment to respond, and when he did, his voice was slightly slurred. "had a weird fuckin' dream, didn't wanna be 'round you. was gonna sleep on the couch, but i came in here for water 'n i fell 'sleep…" he suddenly coughed again, doubling over and covering his face. when he sat up again, he had gone very pale, hair sticking to his face with sweat. "shit, i don't… don't feel well, what th'fuck…"

this time when he coughed, his hands came away from his mouth red. "fuck!" he swore, trying to stagger to his feet. but his legs gave out beneath him and he crumpled to the floor, gasping and wheezing. "fuck, fuck, i'm - dap, help me up, shit!"

jameson watched calmly from his place at the table. anti looked up with desperate eyes that widened as he saw his brother's blank expression, pupils dilating to pinpricks. "dap?" he rasped, retching with a hand clamped over his mouth. "wh-what the fuck did you -"

"a-r-s-e-n-i-c," jameson signed with a smile. his movements were smooth and deliberate in comparison to anti's pained thrashing. "i went classic. there was enough in there to kill a man in half an hour, i'd say. i'm surprised you didn't taste it. you may be experiencing nausea and vomiting, muscle cramps, dizziness, abnormal heart rhythm, sudden convulsions…"

he trailed off, smirking as anti clawed at his throat, gasping for breath and gagging. jameson wasn't even sure the man could see his signs anymore. "y-you fucking - you poisoned me?" anti stammered, wrapping his arms round his stomach and paling even further. "christ, well, that's a first -"

jameson grimaced in disgust as anti threw up without warning, still coughing afterwards. "gross," the time traveler signed, screwing up his face. "die with a little dignity, anti."

anti looked up in time to catch the last few words, although by this point jameson supposed his vision had blurred enough that he couldn't see very well. nevertheless, he managed to sit himself up, wiping spit off his chin. "you want me - why the fuck d'you want me dead?" he managed. his arm twitched wildly, and he gasped in pain. jameson watched him clutch at the counter, trying to pull himself up. "i g-gave you everything, you unappreciative shit, what is wrong with - you f-fucking -"

he suddenly spasmed, and jameson sighed. "oh dear," he signed, despite anti not being able to see him. "it appears you've reached the stage of convulsing and seizures. that's not good, especially with your epilepsy, is it?"

anti choked, and jameson laughed without noise, pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly typing into the text to speech box. he wanted anti to hear what he had to say. "you say you gave me everything," the monotone male voice spoke. "then why am i always in pain? why are you always hurting me, one way or another? why do you treat me like i'm less than you?"

"i - love you, you b-b-bastard," anti gasped, stopping to cry out in pain as he convulsed. "i do, tha-that's nottalie, swear, swear, stop it, stop -"

jameson had finished typing his next lines by that point. "you always say you love me but you don't fucking show it. buying me sketchbooks and ingredients for meals doesn't count as love." his fingers flew across the keyboard. "love is not hurting someone just because you want to. love is not demeaning someone and making them feel small and worthless. love is not stepping on someone to elevate yourself. love is not hurt. love is not you."

"no, no, no," anti mumbled, curling up on the floor, hissing through his teeth. "i - i - you don't underst-t-tand - protect, trying to protect, ah, ah, nngh, i'm - dap -"

"and there's another thing," the voice said cooly. "my name isn't dapper. it's jameson jackson. you don't notice anything, do you, anti? this wasn't a sudden rebellion."

"a li'l p-poison isn't gonna kill me," anti laughed hoarsely.

jameson stood. "no," he signed. "but this will."

he pulled the other item from his pocket, slowly, so anti could take it in. he smirked as his brother's breath hitched at the sight of the silver kitchen knife, reflecting the light from the window above the counter. the reaction was so satisfying to watch.

"y-you're gonna stab m-me, eh?" anti tried to laugh again, but it came out more like a weak whimper. he retched again, head slamming against the wall as he twitched. "f-feels like it's f-fitting that you'd b-be - be the one to kill me. if anyone did, you-you're not - the worst choice."

jameson rolled his eyes. "sure." then he leaned down and pressed his knife to anti's bandaged throat. "anything else to say?"

anti was still shaking, blood dribbling from his mouth. but his eyes, flickering from colour to colour and eventually coming to rest on grey to match his brothers, were full of an emotion that jameson didn't understand. "didn't mean to - you - i -" he threw his head back, whimpering with pain. "b-b-bastard, i - fuck -"

jameson didn't let him get any further.

once it was over, jameson slumped back against the kitchen cupboards, staring off into the living room with unfocused eyes. he'd done it. why didn't he feel happier, more free? why did he feel more trapped than ever?

his hands were red.

he washed them. ten times over. then he took a shower and changed his clothes. he stared at his reflection for a full half hour, lost in thought, hands shaking as his nails dug into his palm.

anti was still on the floor when he went back downstairs. fuck, best get rid of him. jameson crouched down next to him and pressed a hand to his brother's chest. with closed eyes, he let the magic channel through him, burning his skin, burning anti's skin, crushing him under the weight of time itself. several minutes passed, and by the end of it, anti's body was gone. eaten away, dissolved.

jameson didn't feel lighter. really, he felt so much heavier. like he'd gone swimming in a full denim outfit. like he'd gone swimming with rocks in his pockets. like he'd - like he'd just killed his brother. there was no sugarcoating it.

it had felt good. jameson had never been more disgusted with himself.

what would he do now? there was no where else to turn. no one else to go to. except - jameson narrowed his eyes. no one else but the creator's boys. the one's who'd called themselves his brothers. the one's who'd left him with anti. they'd left him with anti, they'd left him with - they'd left him here. they'd been too fucking cowardly to come save him.

jameson picked up the knife from the place anti's body had been. maybe he had something he could do after all. loose ends to tie up. more brothers to put in their places.

his hands weren't red anymore. they felt red.

jameson's french toast had gone cold.

[ithacamafia]

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out, III.

Another year, another holiday playlist from Matt and Kevin!  Just like seasons past, when we brought you tidings on the original “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out” -- or the cleverly-titled sequel, “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out, Part II” -- we close out 2017 with another 20-tracks of sleighbells, snow, and cool yules.  

Without further ado, I’ll let Matthew take us away: “Kevin.  I think I may have told you this before, but I've always considered the first time I saw this Corona Christmas commercial as the unofficial beginning of the Holiday Season. Don't know why - but it's true. This year marks the first time that was in the other room, here sitting at my desk, and just hearing it activated that thing within me that launches my spirit into holiday mode. That lone whistling of Oh Tannenbaum... it just triggers something in me - like when Reggie Jackson has to kill the queen in The Naked Gun. 

‘I. Must. Be. Jolly.’ ‘I. Must. Be. Jolly.’

I know that we've been down this road a few times before - and that many of the standard voices (and perhaps all of the standard songs) have been heard. On top of that, you're busy with a bi-coastal lifestyle that I'm sure is pulling you in all the different directions a guy can be pulled in. So, I propose to you a NO PRESSURE holiday music update mix. No need to be clever in your presentation - like you can help it, I know - we just make sure that each other are aware of any songs/versions we may have missed in the past iterations of this mix. 

So here: Yule Shoot Your Eye Out, A Holiday Mix: Part III. 

I've decided to start this mix with the same song that kicked off our first one. When you picked it then, I challenged that anyone not named Bing who chose to sing this song had to have some kind of chutzpah - you know, a brashness, an audacity... guts to take on a classic. You want brashness, audacity and guts? I give you Sharon Jones and The Dap-Kings and their take on White Christmas. 

Hee-haw and Merry Christmas, buddy.”

(Liner notes continued after the break...)

Matthew, 

Nothing could make my time out west go better/faster/stronger than hitting the mix links with you.  HOLIDAY mix links, at that.  Ho.  Ho!  Ho.  When I left the house at 4am this morning on the way to the airport, rest assured that the “Holiday Traditions” station on SiriusXM was playing.  And you damn well know it was probably Wayne Newton or Bing or one of the many, many, many Christmas songs that we've heard ten thousand times before (yet always enjoy that 10,001st listen when it comes on the radio).  

That's part of what makes The Holiday Song so indelible.  Whether it's an old rendition, whether it's a breathless Sharon Jones version -- or whether it's a new song that still sounds like an old song -- it feels familiar.  It feels like home.  It feels like Christmas.  All over again.

Which makes this selection hit all the harder: "Christmas All Over Again" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

Kev,

Sharon Jones into Tom Petty had me initially scrambling to find a song from another recently departed artist... I quickly realized though, that is not a road that we need to go down. After all, Christmas is a time to focus on more positive things. I'm not saying that we can all take December off and pretend that our country isn't going to hell. I'm just saying that Christmastime is a time where we can all say, "Man, there are so many things to feel badly about, I sure as shit am going to make sure that I appreciate the things I have to feel good about. The President might be leading us all down a dark hole, but at least I have my family... and this fireplace... and a candy cane... You know? At least I have Ms. Kelly Clarkson."

I have never made excuses for my Kelly Clarkson affection and I'm sure as hell not about to start now. She's alive and well and she's bringing all kinds of joy with this little number. Here's "Christmas Eve" by Kelly Clarkson.

Kelly Clarkson is not someone you ever need to make excuses for, Mack.  Definitely not with me.  To this day, I maintain that "Since U Been Gone" is one of the greatest pop songs ever written.  The sashaying, swaying rhythm of this tune is tops.  Solid pick.

I'm slowing down a bit and handing things off to a gentleman who I've recently come to have a much deeper appreciation of.  I always knew he was a talent, and an unrivaled humanitarian -- but aside from a few catchy tunes, I didn't listen to much of his musical catalog.  Thankfully, Spotify allowed me to remedy that situation.  So let's bundle up by the fire, turn the light low, and relax to the hopeful, heartful stylings of Harry Belafonte.  "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day."   

=====

Well bud, you know I’m fine with slowing it down a bit. I’ve long voiced an appreciation for those more pensive Yuletide moments, where only the perfect fireside song can be your soundtrack. Of course, Harry Belafonte hits all the right emotional and melodic notes. Nice pick. 

I’m going to stay in this same groove, and I’ll keep the artist classic too. Like Belafonte’s I Heard the Bells, this one doesn’t go out of its way to hit you with anything too big. Nope, we’re happy at this point to just have classic voices delivering careful interpretations of songs to light our way. 

Here’s Rosemary Clooney doing her best Charlie Brown with “Christmas Time is Here”. 

Sigh.

Being stuck out here in the west and having skies literally filled with flames instead of snowflakes (although the ash is a fairly convincing simulacrum), makes the season tough.  I know Rosemary presents a convincing case for why Christmas time is here... but, honestly? 

I just haven't been feeling it.  

Then a friend of mine reminded me that Christmas is something different to everyone.  It's this whole collection of little things all smushed together, each part forming the heart of "Christmas" for each person.  You know, like Voltron.

Am I wearing short sleeves and sweating in December, Matty?  Sure.  Am I resigned to catching those tiny little ash-flakes on my tongue, and stuck making angel shapes in the charred remains of the Los Angeles hillsides?  Yes.  

But hey, maybe that's What Christmas Means To Me now.  

Just like Stevie Wonder said. 

Phenomenal choice... that song is so great. Simple. Classic. 

And I hear what you're saying, about how a lot of little things together form what Christmas means to each of us. It's like the thing that I was saying about the Corona commercial... or how I just know that some night this month I will stay up late watching It's A Wonderful Life and end up crying unashamedly on my couch. Or how for some reason my family always has a Creme de Menthe pie on Christmas. All those little things. And each year, the things from before mean more and there are a few new things that get added. 

I don't know how many Decembers in your lifetime are going to feature ashy snowflakes, but I'm quite sure that there will be some things that stick with you after your December in LA. (Please note my refusal to reference this month as your first December in LA.) California has a lot to offer, I'm sure. And for nine months out of the year, the weather there is head and shoulders above anything we see up here. The late Fall in the northeast though? This is Christmas Country, my man. The crisp air. The occasional snowflake. A proper sweater. Ain't nothing like it. 

I'm sure you miss it. Still though... this is all part of your Christmas evolution, right? So as you continue to develop what Christmas means to you,  please (oh please), won't consider the benefits of a Holiday in LA (Band of Merrymakers).

Confession time: I miss sweaters the most.  

Here, it's all short sleeves for outside then sling on a sweatshirt for inside because the buildings are as iced cold as Frosty.  I yearn to wear a sweater soooooo badly, but a good sweater is not something you can just throw on and off willy-nilly.  Unless you’re an animal.  

So yeah, I guess you're right.  I'm just going to have to be resigned to the fact that this December -- this HOLIDAY in LA -- is an experience that I must learn to embrace.  I mean, they've got the decorations, they've got the lights, and they've even got the Santas... Hell, I'm going to a Christmas Cookie Decorating Party tomorrow -- that's how into the season everyone out here is... 

But I'll be damned if I don't miss seeing my breath.  Or sitting by a fire.

And until I can go home for the holiday proper and stick my slippered feet underneath the tree to hand out presents, I'll just have to make sure I do everything within my power to simply have a Wonderful Christmastime (The Shins).

You can do it, bud. I mean - think of how many great Christmas movies were shot right there in California. You've got Nakatomi Plaza right there! Bedford Falls is Encino! 

My pick is a song that we've heard before. I'm on the record with it being one of my faves. I'm picking it here because this version always feels very cinematic to me. It feels like the beginning of some holiday in New York, romcom. You know, the opening credits scene... the one where Tom Hanks or somebody is walking home through the city with a bunch of oversized bags and packages? There's a dusting of snow so he's bound to slip and drop something and then drop something else when he picks up the first thing. Sure the song has a few lulls in it, but that just opens up space for him to chat with the friendly newsman who will later provide him useful information on the whereabouts of the woman. You know the woman! The one who he heretofore has had a very adversarial relationship with but has just realized that she's been shielding a heart of gold behind that hard as nails exterior? It's the beginning of that movie. 

It's got two voices that, for me, are what Christmas is all about. It's got it all. Christ, this song even has some bona fide Pennsylvanians!

It's Go Tell It On The Mountain by Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby with Fred Waring and his Pannsylvanians.

I love that flick!  

Especially the part 2/3rds of the way through when he makes some sort of romantic/charming gesture that goes completely tits up, and now she's wicked angry and/or upset with him.  So there they sit -- in their respective apartments -- trying not to think about one another.  Him, curled up with a blanket and eating a pint of ice cream while losing his sorrows in a comforting Christmas flick.  Her, on a fifth bottle of beer (judging from the empties littering the floor around her), just bounding a rubber ball off the wall as her trusty dog watches with a forlorn look on that shaggy face.

A classic.  How will they ever get together?  How will they get past this seemingly insurmountable gulf between them?  They're like oil and water... and what sort of future could oil and water ever have together???

Might as well just stay in, listening to Ray Charles and Betty Carter, because Baby, It's Cold Outside.

Kev, Ray Charles sounds great. Betty Carter sounds great. The arrangement sounds great. But it's 2017, bro. And while I hate to double up on a song... I feel like a more appropriate version may be called for here. 

Let's give Lydia Liza and Josiah Lemanski's update a listen. Here's Baby It's Cold Outside.

Matty.  

Gotta come clean here: I was 50/50 on whether I should just turn the rest of this jam into a dueling "Baby It's Cold Outside" mix -- but then I couldn't stop smiling by the end of this new version and lost my train of thought.  

And then I just surfed the internet for a while, trying to figure out stuff to put on my Christmas list.  As a grown man, naturally, I have everything I could ever want in life (health, family, yadda yadda yadda)... but I've still gotta scrounge up Santa some suggestions for my stocking.  And while socks and a few little nip bottles of booze would be grand -- maybe this year I could give into one of my greater desires.  Maybe a life-long Christmas wish (I mean, Mr. Johnson already got my unrealized childhood Star Wars dream gift).  

So maybe just put it up there on the list this season.  

I mean, sure, it won’t come true.  I know that.  It can’t happen.  It’s not “realistic” or “feasible” or “legal.”  But hey... Christmas is for wishes, homie.

Gotta try.

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas.  As told by Lake Street Drive.

If anyone can make this dream come true for you, bud, it's Santa. That guy works miracles. Me? I don't have to make any Christmas wishes this year, because mine just came true. A Christmas carol by Lake Street Drive? That was the only thing on my list. Great pick. 

Honestly, if I had a Christmas wish, here's what it would be: everybody in the world would be happy just like me. And Taj Mahal. And The Blind Boys of Alabama. Merry Christmas!

Someday At Christmas, everyone will be happy.  

There’ll be no war.  All our dreams will come to be in a world where all men are free.  No hungry children.  No empty hands.  No tears.  No fears.  

One shining moment where all our dreams will come to be -- hate will be gone, love will prevail.  A new world, (sung by Melvin "Blue" Franklin, the incomparable bass voice of The Temptations).

Someday.

Maybe not in time for you and me, brother - but someday... at Christmastime. I mean... it's possible. Totally possible. 

I'm determined to make this a very Charlie Brown Christmas mix. My next pick makes it so. I don't know what it is about this one that appeals to me. I like the stripped down, bare vocal. I'm definitely a fan of the sweepy strings. There's also this lingering sadness in it that lends itself to any holiday where I spend time with my wife's extended family... Dammit, I'm not being authentic. These are not truthful statements... I know exactly what it is that I like about this version of this song. It's the start, the choral, "Oh my God! Here he is!" It's the musical version of the Jesus is coming, look busy joke. I mean, it still gives you all that other stuff I mentioned - but it's the prologue that touches my heart. 

Here's Hark! the Herald Angels Sing by Penny and Sparrow.   

Matt, you know darn well that the Charlie Brown Christmas album is something I could listen to on repeat 24-hours a day for the entire month of December.  And November.  And January.  I love it like no other.  

So it's saying something when I suggest that a new version like this can affect my coal-sized heart in a way that comes even anywhere close to how the Vince Guaraldi Trio does.  

So, hell, I'm gonna double-down on the CharBrowChris portion of the night, and drop a variant of Linus and Lucy by Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.

Kev,

In a world that gives us so few real honest-to-God sure things to count on, there's a part of me that really relishes the fact that I can always know - beyond the shadow of any doubt - that I am going to get tense about the end of these mixes. My worrying about the songs that will ultimately be left off is like an old friend who stops by to visit at Christmastime. You know, the one who always brings a plate of cookies to your parents' house because they started bringing plates of cookies around to their pals in 1982 and now they don't know how to stop. My concern for songs left off is like that. It's at the point now that not only do I feel it, but I think I end up writing some variation of this email every time. Fa la la la la.

There's a lot about this pick that gives me pause. The fact that their Spotify bio touts the artist as "...one of the brightest lights on the Contemporary Christian Music scene..." is enough for me to start running in the other direction. And there are other worthy songs... Songs by beloved artists... Songs that I really like... I could pick those - probably should pick those. I mean, these guys are from Florida. It's gross.

But this song... it feels right. I don't want to like it. I resent all of its wannabe Big Bad Voodoo Daddy earnest energy... But then again, I mean, look at my toes. Those little bastards are tapping like a sumbitch. I can't control it. And honestly, in my heart of hearts, the 1990s in me knows that I don't really want to control it. I want to submit and swing dance with Heather Graham while wearing a Santa hat. Go daddy-o, I guess.

Here's O Come All Ye Faithful by Tenth Avenue North. 

You've got two picks left. I've got one. Let's try not to screw this up any more than I (probably) just have. 

Cripes.  This all went waytoofast.  

No time to overthink things.  Just gotta go with the flow.  And sure, you might’ve tossed me a curveball (sending me spiraling back into a late-90′s Swingers mindset, with their retro-hip cule yules).  

That said, newsflash: I’m a pro.  I can handle it.

Everything's jake.  Nothin' around here to snap your cap at.  But mark my words, chrome dome: if we're gonna swing, then we best start cookin' with gas. 

So do yerself a favor and grab your stompers before you head out on that dance floor... because this next tune -- this actual, genuine, bonafide swing -- is the real deal.  

Time for Swingin' Them Jingle Bells with Fats Waller.

Stompers? Chrome dome? Who's Jake? I'm Jake? I don't think so. I'm Matt. 

Bud, I have no clue what you're talking about, but if you mean to imply that Swinging' With Them Jingle Bells is a likable tune that we can dance to as Christmas approaches, then I am with you. You've done well by yourself on this mix. 

I've been thinking about it and I feel that my anxiety around my previous pick was because in my heart of hearts I always knew what my final pick would be. That second to last one was the one that had question marks around it. This one, this last one, was predetermined by the stars... and this is the time for stars, pal. Now yes, this song has caused a bit of strife among my immediate family. They think it's strange. They're put off by all the talking. They don't like that nothing jingles. Me? I like the groove. I like the idea of superimposing a toast about friendship being the wine of life. This one feels to me like the end of Christmas. When everything starts to settle down but there is still that distant buzzing feeling you get after a jam-packed day of family/food/fun. 

Here it is. Here's Chasing Christmas by The Superimposers. 

Merry Christmas, all you shining stars. Merry Christmas, World.

What's... superimposed?

Definitely see how that one might unlock strife within your family (I’m sure it’ll elicit the same reaction from my own fam, too).  But I have found myself picking up what you’re putting down on this song.  There's something ethereal and odd about it, but at the same time... reassuring?  Comforting?  Like the great big "Dad" of the universe is reclining in a cosmic lay-z-boy and waxing poetic by the crackling fireside at the end of a long day.  

I'm a little worried they'll say a bit too much -- go a bit too far -- if he keeps talking, but I can't help but enjoy the sound of their voice.

And if that track was the end of Christmas, this next one is simply the retrospective.  The encore.  Once you're flipping through the photos and taking down the decorations and putting all the new toys away, melancholy begins mixing with the joy.  

Next year seems so far away, everyone will be that much older.  Honestly, how many more Christmases will we all have together?  Who can say?  So, we can't help but savor what we've had here this year.  Who we've given our hearts to.

We keep looking back at Last Christmas.

And if there's someone who gives their heart in everything they do, it's Frank Turner.

Ho ho ho, everyone.  See you next season.