#when christmas was young

[tvdversepoc]

Karen David in When Christmas Was Young

[eastasiansonwesternscreen]

List of holiday movies from capeusa

[roadtogalavant]

From Karen David’s Instastory

[christadeguchi]

j… jesus oppa ;____;

[undeadchestnut]

I was inspired by @thedivinelights' art to draw my own version of 2022 Scrooge and Marley where they're the same age.

AKA the au where they've been married for decades and Marley is forever fussing over Scrooge's appearance.

[nxcro97]

happy sawlidays everyone i read this carol/saw au fic by @helloitsbees and im thinkin bout it this christmas mornings

[apologeticallyfat]

[jtl-fics]

Words cannot express how tempted I am to write a side piece to FF that details GS’ POV from finding out her grandson got stabbed to the reveal.

I want to show her full commitment to the bit. Getting Paul to assist her, listening in as Andrew and Neil talked in the car, her thoughts regarding all of this, Wymack having texted her exactly where she needed to go beforehand, her going up to the receptionist and pretending she doesn’t know English to sell the bit further, the stroke of luck that is dear sweet Nicholas, Squeezing the SHIT out of Wymack’s hand so he doesn’t rat her out because he KNOWS she’s speaks English, and the realization that is “Aw shit, they’re good kids Sara and you’ve already lied to this extent already. Time for the Smith family tradition of ‘COMMIT.’”

[bibleofficial]

wallpaper is insane like u find a product w an ugly print ? wallpaper it. just multiple uncoordinated things put together ? wallpaper it. ugly door ? wallpaper it. ugly wall ? landlord won’t let me wallpaper it

[tuesdayscanons]

Do you think Arcus is flustered because:

A) he has a crush on Gale

or

B) Arcus is upset that Gale is tagging along because he wanted to be alone with Maud, even if it'd mean leaving Gale completely alone on Christmas

I think you can already guess the answer.

[wanderingchaos]

The worst part about writing in your own world, with your own characters (and not being a very good artist) is when you write a novella of Christmas stories, you don’t really have a place to put it. Like, I could set it up for self publishing, but it’s not a romance or an established world or a thing that has a place, and I have some other options, but none of them are great if I want to do much with the whole thing.

But it’s good. And the piece as a whole is a ‘4 times Christmas was terrible, and one time it wasn’t’ but with people you don’t have reason to know yet.

However, this year has been terrible and I wanted to finished a larger chapter on ‘We’re in a Room Without a Door’ but life got in the way, and I finished other things I can’t share, but then I was talking with some friends about how weird white elephant is and I thought I’d put this snippet out there. This is the first little bit of this section of this chapter of the novella. Feel free to let me know what you think. Maybe this is my Christmas gift to me. Posting this in a spirit of something unnamed.

—

Arvid walked across the courtyard, not for the first time cursing how god damn cold it was. Thank god classes were just about over, and he could hide in a warm room for a couple of days and defrost.

He was going to have to find said warm room, since the janitors had found his last bolt-hole, but there were worse things. Almost everyone was going home for a couple of weeks, so it should be easy to find a room to crash in. Hell, someone might even pay him for it, if they are looking for a ‘house sitter.’ No one really thinks about why he’d be happy to stay at their place and let his stay empty, but he’s happy to let them be comforted.

One person did try and break into an apartment while he was there, too. Bad luck for that guy all around. But seeing as the other guy had been armed for killing and not stealing, Arvid hadn’t felt too bad about putting him in the ground. You don’t bring serial killer kit to a break in unless you’re trying to send a message, and sometimes that message is ‘I’ve made my final mistake.’

“Arvid!”

From down the sidewalk, a shock of red hair came peeking out from a dark hat. Alexandr Petrovich Kalshnakov, better known to everyone but Arvid’s mental filing system as Sasha, came bouncing down the way, his smile like a ray of sunshine behind a dark cloud. Arvid couldn’t help but find himself smiling in return, a little core of warmth in his cold core heating up.

“I’m so glad I caught you!” Sasha grabbed Arvid in a big hug, burying his face in Arvid’s long, white hair. He broke apart, holding Arvid’s hands with soft, besotted eyes.

“Daria and her roommates are having a party tonight, before everyone escapes for break, and I wanted to make sure you came!”

“Oh, am I invited? I wasn’t sure I would know a lot of people there.” Arvid made a half-hearted attempt to break away from Sasha holding his hands, but it was nice, weirdly, to have Sasha holding them. Warm if nothing else.

“You know me, silly! You can just stick with me all night, I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

“Ok, fine.” Arvid felt his face flush with Sasha’s smile focused on him so long. “Is there anything I need to bring?”

“Just yourself.” Sasha thought for a moment, then lightly hit his forehead with the base of his hand. “Oh! And a white elephant gift!”

“What’s a white elephant gift?”

[groenendaelfic]

Snippet #6 - Muggle-born Prince Wilhelm’s first accidental magic

Crown Princess Kristina is informed about the existence of magic the week after she turns eighteen.

It’s a bit of a shock, but she’s always been rather pragmatic and so she simply nods and familiarizes herself with this new aspect of her duties as best she can. She visits the Ministry of Magic, meets with the Magical Council, learns what she needs to know, and gets on with business.

Thirty years later she returns home from a long day of meetings and royal engagements to find her sons’ nanny wringing her hands and insisting that Kristina needs to come see her youngest right now, but unwilling to explain why.

Kristina is tired and has little patience for vagueness or a toddler’s antics, especially when Birgit is much better at calming little Wilhelm down than she herself is, but the other woman was chosen for her unflappable nature and no-nonsense attitude as much as she was for her qualifications and German skills, and so Kristina sighs and acquiesces. She knows Birgit wouldn’t bother her unless it’s really necessary and no one else can help.

"Is he having one of his crying episodes again?" Kristina asks, hoping for the answer to be no.

Wilhelm has always been a fussy baby, clingy and quick to upset, nothing like Erik, who smiles every time she comes to see him and never has any trouble entertaining himself or playing with others.

"It is best if Her Majesty comes and sees for herself," Birgit says, her accent stronger than usual.

Kristina sighs and makes her way to what is decidedly not the nursery.

A member of staff is waiting at the door, as if they’re guarding it, and Kristina has no idea how to take this. Birgit is not supposed to leave her charges unattended, or at least not Wilhelm, who is still young and has trouble sitting still and staying put when told to, and most certainly not when something is wrong.

The door is opened only as much as is necessary for them to walk through, and the sight which greets Kristina is most unexpected.

There are butterflies flying in the air, almost dancing around little Wilhelm, who is sitting on the carpet, his back towards the door.

He is not paying them any attention, does not come running up to her asking for a hug, and that, too, is most unusual. Instead he is busy cuddling a vaguely familiar looking dog—the small and yappy kind—and making gleeful happy noises.

Kristina blinks and turns to Birgit, waiting for an explanation.

Losing ones temper is never helpful, doubly so when one is the Queen and has a reputation to uphold, but she’s tired and it’s been a long day and she’d really like to know how a dog—if that’s what the long haired squirming carpet can even be called—got into the Royal Family’s private wing at Drottningholm and why it hasn’t long since been removed.

It can’t be because Birgit fears Wilhelm throwing a tantrum. Birgit is very good at handling those.

Birgit doesn’t immediately speak, as if she expects the presence of the dog to be explanation enough.

It most certainly is not.

"It … it jumped out of the painting," she says, waving at the life-sized painting, the one which prominently features a white Phalène sitting on the lap of one of her ancestors, its dark head and floppy ears adoringly staring up at its mistress.

Or rather it featured, because right now the lap is empty and said dog—because it is the same dog—is licking her youngest’s cheek and Wilhelm giggles, his small hands buried in its fur as it wriggles around, very much alive and three-dimensional.

She wants to tell Wilhelm to stop, because that’s unhygienic, but doesn’t. She can’t handle a hysterical Wilhelm on top of this, and maybe magical dogs—because that’s what it has to be, right? Accidental magic?—don’t have germs and have ideally no need to be house trained.

She really hopes it’s not. The idea of an adult member of the Royal Family having magic and strengthening the ties to the mostly independent and separate magical world might not be unwelcome, especially one with such close ties to the future King, but the thought of having a magical toddler at home, one as overly emotional as Wilhelm, precious as he otherwise is, is very much not.

She’ll have to notify the Magical Council, have someone from the Royal Swedish Academy of Magic come over both to test Wilhelm and to check if there isn’t something or someone else who might be the cause for this.

Maybe the paining was enchanted and Wilhelm somehow activated it … or something. One can always hope.

"The, ah, the butterflies were there first. I don’t know where they came from," Birgit adds, now back to helplessly wringing her hands.

Right, the butterflies. Which were definitely not in the painting before.

"Or rather … His Royal Highness was clapping his hands and then suddenly they were there, and they haven’t left him since."

Kristina swallows. This does not decrease the likelihood of her son having magic, quite the opposite.

She looks at him again, cooing and babbling at the dog in his lap, as if it were a person and not a … not a …

Well, it’s all a bit of a shock is what it is, but she’s always been rather pragmatic and so she swallows again and nods, already drafting messages to the Magical Council and the Head of the Academy in her head. So Wilhelm will take a seat on the Magical Council instead of having a career in the military. The public will have questions when the time comes, but as long as he still fulfills his duties as a working royal she can live with that. Maybe it'll even prove useful.

"Doggie," Wilhelm squeals, while the dog runs circles around her son, tail wagging and a new butterfly appearing with every clap of his hands. "Doggie, doggie, doggie."

They better be able to come immediately.

[skitskatdacat63]

post 10 of your favourite comfort movies & tag 10 people

Thank you both @suzuki-ecstar and @renaulonso for the tags!!! I don't rewatch movies very often so I feel like these are moreso movies I've actually watched several times more than they are comfort movies lmao, also in no particular order!!

Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse

Ford v. Ferrari

Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Arc

Star Wars: A New Hope

Casino Royale

Young Frankenstein

Inglorious Basterds

Interstellar(not comforting, makes me sob every single time)

Ocean's Eleven

Blazing Saddles

I tag: @sweatyflytrap @antimonyandthyme @ayceeofspades @sewellove @schumigrace @ellearts @huginn01 @hungriestheidi @skeleton-gluvs @sebbuh (sorry if you've been tagged already!!!)

[dontwanderoff]

so like, i think my nana has definitely forgotten me now. like, mum said she couldn't remember us grandkids on a phonecall once, but also she's said that nana had later asked about us and her memory has been really inconsistent the whole year, but even knowing all that it was just weird sitting next to her at lunch today when she was so distant and just, different with me

[roastedsoup]

just downloaded happiest nuclear winter and got jumpscared by brobecks version of a letter

[funerals]

think I might be a bad person