christmas tasks

check yes juliet (4/?)

the people have spoken


don’ t ask me for an update until, like, another year has passed


Part one, part two, part four (part 1, part 2, part 3) (tag)

How much sleep he got turned out to be negligible in the long run: he really couldn’t be expected to focus anyway, because Marinette wore the Chat Noir hoodie to school the next day too.

And the next.

And the next.

In fact, she wore it every day throughout the next week.

Adrien got a crash course in ‘how to pretend you were paying attention when your crush is wearing a sweater with your signature all over it.’

He failed it miserably.

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As we get closer and closer to Christmas, my multi-tasking is in high-gear at the registers. And this is something that I am GOOD at. Most people can recognize that I’m good at this and they’re pretty amazed at it because most people can’t even handle answering the phones. But if you give me enough coffee, I am a fucking wizard, okay?

Anyway. Today was one of the days that I had had enough coffee. 

Old woman walks up and I start ringing her up. Its a mid-sized order, maybe 20 items. I’m breezing through it.

Phone rings in the middle, I answer. They have questions about an item that we have in stock, they want it on hold. I communicate this to someone on the floor via headset. I’m still ringing up this woman’s stuff. Then the phone rings again. They need to be transferred to a different department. Meanwhile, the person I’d talked to over the headset finds what line one is looking for. I tell her to bring it up so I can put it on hold. Then I pick up line one and tell her that we have what she needs and we can put it on hold. 

It was good coffee. I’m on it today. 

As I finish the call, I also finish ringing up the woman in my line- who apparently thought that I was talking to her the whole time I was on the headset. 

“Oh, no. Sorry. I was talking to someone on the floor.”

“Well, you’re supposed to be helping ME! Why aren’t you helping ME?!”

“…I’m sorry, did you have a question?”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, but you’re talking to everyone BUT me.”

“… I have multiple responsibilities, ma’am. Was there something you needed?”


While I was talking to a total of three different people, I managed to ring her up and get to the payment screen. “You just need to run your card, ma’am.”

She squints. “Well no one TOLD ME!”

She pays, she leaves, and then there’s more phone calls. 

Apparently my multitasking isn’t appreciated by everyone. 

Christmas with Harry

Determined wasn’t even what Harry felt anymore. It was far beyond that and there was no word for it. It broke his heart that you felt this way about Christmas. Last Christmas the two of you hadn’t spent it together—you exchanged gifts—but you had only been dating a little while so it wasn’t a big to-do. When he walked into your shared apartment with a Mariah Carey tune falling from his lips ready to begin December with you and the fake smile that fell on your lips he knew something was off.

“Christmas has never really been fun…or great for me,” you shrugged when he asked over dinner. You stared at your plate as you thought of all the bad years of family Christmases that just made you feel so bad and like it was never gonna get any better. “I like it enough, but…I don’t know. I don’t get excited about it much anymore,” you mumbled.

So clearly, Harry’s goal was to get you excited.

Growing up, Harry’s mum always had one of those non-religious Advent calendars in his home with the chocolate for each day. While Harry didn’t have the heart to tell his mother the chocolate tasted terrible, he settled for getting one without chocolate, but instead had a Christmas activity for the two of you to do every day.

One day it was get the tree and decorate it, another day it was go Christmas window shopping (Harry was blessed with that one because he was still totally unsure of what to get you). But the smile on your face still wasn’t as strong as it could be.

You smiled a lot but Harry wanted one that reached your eyes and made his stomach flutter like it would when he made you extra happy. It was just four days till Christmas and Harry was hoping for a miracle—a miracle that you would smile and be happy. He had watched countless Christmas movies with you and you smirked at the sweet parts and smiled at the happy endings. But again, it didn’t touch your eyes and you still were unhappy.

“Kitten?” He asked a bit sleepily.

“Yes?” You replied as you folded the throw blanket on the back of the couch as the two of you walked toward the bedroom for bed.

“Are you happy with me?” He whispered softly. He was at a loss—what else could he do? He was trying so hard to make you happy and he felt like he wasn’t. Stopping short in the hallway and spinning around, he bumped right into you.

“Of course, Har-bear,” you said in absolute awe—how on earth could he think you were unhappy with him? He made you immensely happy just by existing. “Are you happy with me?” You wondered biting your lip nervously.

“Completely,” he sighed with relief. “Are you having a good Christmas?” He asked.

You blinked at him and turned to look at him. The green eyes you adored so much looked a little sad and worried. “Is that what all this is about?” You wondered. The endless Christmas tasks. And while they were all lovely and you were blessed to spend time with Harry, it just seemed so odd.

He stared at you curiously. “What do you mean, all this?” He asked nervously. You hated Christmas even more now, that had to be it.

“Sweetheart, I’m having an amazing holiday,” you promised and cupped his soft cheeks in your hands and rubbed your thumbs beneath his eyes. “The best one I’ve ever had,” you whispered. “You’ve made it so special and you’re so sweet to me,” you told him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me—Christmas or not,” you promised and smiled so big and beautifully that Harry’s heart fluttered in his chest just as he had hoped—but it wasn’t enough. You could say that on any day of the year…and he wanted you to love Christmas.

“Do you like Christmas?”

“I don’t hate it any more than I did,” you said comfortingly. He smirked sadly.

“I wanted you to love it,” he said softly and almost sadly.

You shook your head. “Harry, it would take a miracle for me to love something that hurt me so badly,” you whispered. “But you’ve done a tremendous job of making it more special than I could ever imagine and I love you, so very much,” you whispered. “Please don’t stress about it, you’re perfect,” you promised.

He smiled gently and then followed behind you so he could watch your bum as you went to bed.


There were more gifts for the family and friends coming over to your home when the two of you woke up Christmas morning. Harry had made you a heaping and steaming plate of chocolate chip waffles in bed and a kiss that made your toes curl snuggly under the comforter.

He tugged you to the living room and you almost fainted at the sight of the fake snow decorating the floor, more twinkly lights than he had hung around the entire rest of the flat, and mistletoe hung just under the alcove the two of you had put your small tree.

“Harry,” you whispered breathlessly as you examined the room and the small tiny present sitting perfectly perched under the mistletoe. You looked at him, dressed in just plaid flannel bottoms and his hair pulled back in a bun with only one sock that made it through the night’s sleep. “What’s—”

“You should open that,” he said simply.

Complying, you carefully unwrapped the velvet box. When you opened it, your heart fluttering violently in your chest, you found it empty. “Harry it’s—”

“I want more tries,” he said. “I want you to love Christmas. I want to be your miracle,” he whispered to you as he knelt behind you holding the missing ring between his fingers. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore,” he told you.

You swallowed thickly, tears filling your eyes, but you kept them from spilling. “Oh my goodness, Harry,” you whispered as he continued to speak.

“I love you, so, so much, my kitten,” he promised. “Please marry me,” he asked sweetly.

To say you loved Christmas, now, was an understatement.

three words

excerpt: They pretend not to know, but oddly, he doesn’t mind her borrowing his shirts, and she certainly doesn’t mind taking them. She’ll be over and he’ll duck into the bathroom for a while just before she leaves. After he’s walked her home, he’ll take inventory of his neatly arranged wardrobe, and surreptitiously note what’s missing, or what’s returned. One day, when Simon nicks a scarf from her, she says they’ll call it even, and he gives her a knowing smirk.

summary: a collection of little things that simon loves about isabelle and isabelle loves about simon.

word count: 1.1k words

A/N: I wanted to write some Sizzy fluff and this is the result because who doesn’t like imagining their otp doing cute otp things?

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Hello! In this little event I would like to invite other askblogs to help me decorate my Christmas tree!

The task is simple: send me via the submit box a Christmas ornament that you’d like me to put in the tree. You can design it yourself, which will make it more special and unique. Be as creative as you want!

Then, we’ll see how the tree looks on December 25th; everyone who collaborates will be mentioned.

I can’t wait to see your ornaments!

“We arrived in Switzerland on December 20. The next few days were spent organizing her care and trying to put together a last minute Christmas. We were told that getting home health-care assistance in Switzerland over the holidays was going to be difficult. So we asked Betty, a wonderful nurse who had cared for my mother during her stay at Cedars, to come back with us and help get us through the holidays. This was a hard decision for Betty and her family. I remember her husband coming to meet us at the hospital. He wanted to look us in the eyes as he told us they had decided that she would come with us. This was our first Christmas gift: they were giving us their Christmas.

She remembered feeling butterflies in her stomach and felt she had come home. How often I have thanked those butterflies for flying around in her body for those few moments of perfect expectation.

Christmas had always been the time when our family would get together, and this year, more than ever, it was going to be just that, maybe for the last time. She always asked us not get her expensive presents. Sometimes she would ask for pencils, erasers, and other office sundries to last her the whole year. Other times, a scented candle or a particular kind of shampoo that came from America. She always wanted practical presents rather than what she felt were the useless silly things that seem to fill the stores at this time of year. Shopping that Christmas was a difficult task for all of us. We didn’t want to be away from the house, yet we didn’t want to hurt the spirit of the holidays and our time together.

She told us that what she disliked most about her condition was the fact that she felt that is was going to be a burden on all of us.

After Christmas dinner my mother came downstairs. We all gathered around and shared in the gifts we had for each other. Since she couldn’t leave the house to go shopping, she had chosen things she owned to give to each of us: a scarf, a sweater, a candle. This made it so touching and all the more valuable. Afterward, she read a short text that she was using in one of her speeches for UNICEF. It had been written by Sam Levenson, a humorist and TV and radio personality, to her granddaughter on the day she was born. Worried that due to his age, he might not be able to be there when she became a young lady, it was his way to pass on some of his wisdom. My mother had edited it into a poem and entitled it, ‘Time Tested Beauty Tips’.”

From Sean Hepburn Ferrer’s, An Elegant Spirit.

Mistletoe And Wine

to my dear gutterflower @mayquita: Teresa, I think you may have guessed already it was me, anyway - yes, I’m your gf csss! Here’s some holiday smut for you, I don’t even know how this happened. Merry Christmas again and enjoy!

(also on and ao3)

“No. No no no no no, no.” Emma shakes her head fiercely. “It’s inclined to the left, don’t you see that?”

“It is not,” Killian growls in an exasperated voice. “From where I stand, it looks perfectly straight.” He gestures grumpily towards the huge Christmas tree he’s trying to put up with big effort in their spacious living room.

Emma giggles. “Please. I think you need to look again. If it was any more inclined, it would topple over.” She’s enjoying the domestic feeling of spending their first Christmas together in their new home, sipping hot aromatic beverages in a comfortable armchair in front of a cackling fire while giving commands to her man, pestering and teasing him about putting up the Christmas tree in a perfect alignment, like every normal woman. That her man (and soon-to-be husband) happens to be Captain Hook, the most cutthroat pirate to ever fare the Seven Seas – and even some not known to man – makes it even more delightful.

“And I think,” he replies pointedly, “your vision is blurred by too much mulled wine, Swan.” With a flick of his wrist, he motions towards the steaming mug in her hand that smells of red wine, cinnamon and other spices.

“You better do the deed, Captain,” she tells him indignantly, “or else my father will not let you live it down that you can’t even properly put up a tree.”

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The Mistletoe Challenge

The kingdom of Arendelle was in high spirits. The streets were lined with vendors displaying their wares and children ducked around legs of adults laden with holiday shopping. Inside the royal palace, servants dressed in lively holiday garb ran busily about the corridors, shouting to be heard above the hustle and bustle that came with Christmas. Bells, holly and wreaths decked every inch of space available, adding colour and warmth to the castle halls.

Princess Anna of Arendelle, second in line to the throne and younger sister to the ruling monarch Queen Elsa, slipped through the hot and noisy palace kitchens with all the grace and elegance of a drunken reindeer. Liberating a plate of pastries, she slid out the large room, kicking the door shut behind her. Humming happily, Anna scurried down the hallway before ducking into a secluded hallway. Checking that the coast was clear, she whistled loudly. A door opened and two figures, a burly bond man peeked out. Anna waved him over, gesturing at the plate of pastries. Kristoff grinned widely, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Holiday treats made by the very best of the country’s chefs in the queen’s own kitchens." He moaned in ecstasy as he sank his teeth into a large glazed cake. "Are you sure Queen Elsa isn’t going to get angry at you for this?”

Anna shrugged, her mouth as stuffed as his. Swallowing with some difficulty, she gave him a rather sticky smile. “What my sister doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Did you get what I wanted?”

Kristoff pulled a bag out from his jacket, tossing is carelessly to the girl as he returned his attention to the pastries. “Don’t know why you needed these at all in the first place. You live in a palace, can’t you get some just by snapping your fingers and ordering your lackeys or something?”

The redhead shook her head, clutching the precious bundle to her chest with a look that promised mischief. "Elsa won’t let us hang mistletoe around the castle. She says that it isn’t appropriate.“ She looked inside the bag, barely able to contain the excitement bubbling up inside her at all the delicious possibilities she could make with the tiny sprigs within the bag.

 Her friend shrugged, his pockets bulging with pockets holiday treats. 

"Well, good luck then. I’m not chipping you free from the ice if she decides to freeze you in place so you can’t wreck havoc.”

“Puh-leaze Kristoff. Elsa wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ll believe it the day you actually become a normal functioning member of society.”

Anna blew a raspberry at her friend’s retreating back. Standing, she dusted her dress off. It was time for her to put her plan in motion.

Night had fallen over Arendelle by the time Elsa retreated to her chambers. It had been a long day of paperwork, negotiations and overlooking holiday preparations. Upon looking out the window, she could see that it was all worth it. Even from this height, she could sense the holiday cheer emanating from the streets below. Groaning in relief as she sank into a chair, Elsa stretched luxuriously, working out the kinks from her aching muscles and tilting her head back. She sneezed as a something fluttered down from above to tickle her nose. Elsa opened her eyes and froze.

Every inch of the ceiling above her had been covered in mistletoe. It hung there in bunches and twigs and leaves, leaving not a single surface untouched.

“Oh no no no…” she muttered frantically, bolting upright in her chair to twist her neck about, scanning to try and find a single uncovered area. This had to be Anna’s handiwork. No wonder she hadn’t seen hide or hair of her sister during the day. Of course Anna wouldn’t have interfered with the day’s preparations if she was busy preparing for something of her own in Elsa’s room. Elsa dashed to the door. If she hurried, there was still a chance that she could hide out in the library or a spare room until the next day and call in servants to remove the offending plant.

Heaving the door open, Elsa almost whined in despair. 

“Hi Elsa! Can I come in?”


Anna trotted into the room wearing a wide Cheshire cat smile. She twirled, hands behind her back as she looked up at the mistletoe covering her sister’s room. Elsa was standing in the centre of the room and looked as though she was contemplating escape by leaping out her window. Anna sighed. 

“You’re not hiding this year Elsa. You’ve dodged every single sprig of mistletoe for every single Christmas but this year…” Anna grinned widely, her chest swelling slightly at her accomplishment. “This year I’ve won. So c'mere and congratulate me.”

Elsa grimaced, her mouth twisting into a scowl of distaste. She did hate losing. If only she hadn’t been so preoccupied with all her tasks. Every Christmas, the two would compete over mistletoe. Anna would attempt to catch Elsa under the mistletoe and Elsa would evade her. She’d successfully avoided every sprig of mistletoe that Anna had placed for her, even abusing her power as the queen to ban the hanging of mistletoe in the palace. It had been an odd rule yes, but she’d managed to pull it off. She glanced at Anna.

“Where’d you even get the mistletoe?” she asked, though she had a good idea of what the answer would be. 

“Kristoff,” said Anna nonchalantly. “Bribed him with a plate of goodies.”

Elsa cursed inwardly. She should have known that the iceman would side with her sister. Sighing, she drooped, knowing that she was only putting off the inevitable. She’d lost and there was nothing to be done about it. Anna came forward, as though sensing her sister’s resignation. 

“Well then, ” said Elsa, wrapping her arms about Anna’s waist. “May the best player win.”

The redhead smiled, standing on tiptoe to press her lips against Elsa’s. 

“Yes I did.”

anonymous asked:

Did you go looking for that song in the dance scene in gwp or are you just a big Kim possible fan

I’m a big KP fan. Big enough to commit fanfic in that universe. (The fic: specifically, the outline for the Christmas special “The Six Tasks of Snowman Hank”.) (The meta of the fic.)

KP was one of the best-written things coming out of Disney for a good while. The scripts were lively and funny, and the writers, led by Bob Schooley, did their situations and characters the courtesy to treat them seriously, even while being seriously funny.

The thing that has always most deeply appealed to me about the series as a whole is the natural and comfortable way that Kim and Ron grow into their relationship. That accomplishment was something to aspire to, I thought, and something worth nodding toward in GWP. Getting permission for that nod was not cheap – and an expense that the writer bore, not the publisher – but (so I judge) definitely worthwhile.

How the Grinch Loved Christmas

A/N: I’ve crazy busy in real life the last few weeks (days especially) and completely disconnected from Tumblr and all of you, so my apologies for that. This is my (terribly late) Christmas gift for my CSSS, @ofswansandcaptains, who asked for Killian and Emma’s first Christmas together. Hope you had a wonderful holiday with your loved ones, darling! It’s been such a pleasure getting to know you Xx


It is exactly three weeks before Christmas when Henry tasks she and Killian with acquiring a tree to trim for their home. He has a horrible habit of getting what he wants, so when he sends them off towards Geppetto’s Tree Lot with a grin and a wave after breakfast at Granny’s one morning, she bites back her sigh, forces away the frown threatening to tug down the corners of her mouth, and musters up what she hopes is a cheerful smile for him.

Grin and bear it – that’s her motto for the day, and while the assignment sounds easy enough, Emma knows absolutely nothing about pine trees, let alone how to pick one out to take home. She and Killian split up as soon as they get to the lot though, both determined to fulfill the first item off of Henry’s Christmas to-do list.

He presses a lingering kiss to her lips, bumping his nose against hers with a soft smile, and gives an encouraging squeeze to her fingers before departing down the left path. Emma scrunches her nose as she watches him go, wondering if maybe she should have gone with him (misery does love company) or if she should just let him do the choosing (and save herself from having a hand in the matter). But she remembers the look on Henry’s face, the brightness in his eyes and the excitement all but radiating out of him, and it propels her forward in the opposite direction Killian had gone.

She reminds herself that she is doing this for Henry, that she is determined to get a tree for him (and she is determined not to be a Grinch this holiday season).

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