This would be totally canon if he knew who Santa was. But hey, maybe Frisk will explain it to him one day. Frisk believes in Santa, so surely Papyrus will see their love and passion for the holiday and will do so too!
nothing will ever be funnier to me than the one christmas veggietales silly song where larry the cucumber is waiting for santa and a member of the IRS knocks on his door and he slams the door in his face and then looks into the camera with the most smug expression it kills me every DAMN TIME
I had posted a text post about twenty minutes ago saying that I was having a five star shoot out and the bar, playing as Michael, with Trevor hanging out with me and helping. I had lifted Michael’s head from behind the pool table to get a better look at the officers in coming, when Trevor yelled with his voice serious and full of genuine concern, “Stay in cover, sugar!”
And then shot the officer before I could.
I then waited, literally, TWENTY MINUTES with my phone on record to get a clip of the audio file. It wasn’t fun because I just had to sit there and hope it happened again.
sometimes i feel as though my sadness is tangible
the way it rests beneath my sheets with me
follows me into the shower
drives me to work
drops me off at school
curls itself around me when i least expect it in an embrace i cannot break free of
i can feel it in my bones
inside my chest
i can see it in lose strands of hair
and unfinished meals
and unanswered texts
i can hear it in every “i’m fine”
and “i’m just tired”
happiness, on the other hand
happiness reminds me of true love, of soulmates
of heaven and hell
because i believe it exists but it isn’t something i’ve ever experienced
and most of the time i find myself doubting that it’s real
“i’m not happy,” i say
“so just be happy,” they tell me
as if it’s the easiest thing in the world
and maybe for some it is
but for me
happiness is like falling asleep on christmas eve, waiting for santa claus to come, only to sneak downstairs and find your dad eating the cookies you left for him
happiness is seeing the sun shining from inside and going outside to feel its warmth, only for it to start to rain
happiness is staying up until midnight on your birthday and having nobody text you
happiness is giving your all to someone only to one day wake up and find out they don’t feel the same about you anymore
happiness is fleeting
happiness is momentary
happiness is your favorite relative coming in from out of town, it’s your internet friend meeting you for the first time, it’s your old school friend coming to visit after moving away
and then inevitably leaving you
it’s always leaving
makenziiann said: I was wondering if you could write about someone who is sad but wants to be happy but they’d rather be sad because being happy can be taken away as soon as they get it? (cc, 2017)
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be
Merry Christmas @kayteaem-fic ! It was so wonderful to be your Turn Secret Santa! I hope you have a lovely day. Here’s a drawing of the adorable star-gazing cuties, that aren’t quite gazing at the stars.
“So many things for me
are unfortunate in the commercialization of something that is special.
It’s like when Led Zeppelin appears in Cadillac commercials. There’s
something that is taken away from your love of this thing and your
connection to it.”
“Wait, what?” Stiles sputters, spitting Cheetos everywhere. He twists round to stare at Scott, the episode of Brooklyn 99 they’re watching forgotten.
Stiles gapes. “Seriously?”
Scott shrugs, “I thought it would be nice.”
“Y’know, promote pack bonding or whatever.”
“And you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”
“I sent a text,” Scott’s face falls. “Oh, wait, I sent it a couple of weeks back, around the time your phone was broken.”
“Oh my god, Scott. When I didn’t get back to you, you could have e-mailed me. Or skyped. Or written me a letter or something.”
“There were giants, man. Actual giants. I was distracted.” Stiles rolls his eyes, and Scott sighs. “I honestly thought you knew. I didn’t make the connection between the lack of reply and the broken phone until just now.”
It’s inevitable. You have
a seventy-nine percent in the class, and the professor just announced that the
class’s average score on the second midterm was a measly forty-five percent.
You had been hoping that she’d curve the midterm, so your grade might reach a
more stable percentage, but she refused on account of some overachiever earning
a one hundred percent on the midterm. The look in everyone’s eyes when she said
that— whoever received the perfect score better sleep with one eye open.
College students, yourself included, are pretty volatile over grades.
Did you mention that the
only four components making up your overall class grade were a compilation of
quiz scores, two midterms, and the final?
So yeah, you’re screwed.
In more ways than one,
actually, if you have to admit.
A certain cute boy named
Jeon Jungkook sitting in front of you is awfully distracting.
You might be paying more
attention to him than the lecture at times.
Maybe that’s why your
lowest grade is in this class.