Tumgik
#we make this for birthdays and christmas
Text
anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...
#not a shitpost#serious post#ask to tag#tw trauma#cptsd#c-ptsd#and if so we should TALK about it#because it means there are a whole group of survivors out there whose mental health regularly worsens during holidays#like i know i am most certainly not the only person who feels an undefined Dread hanging over christmas/my birthday/july 4 etc#bc too many shitty things happened during those times and now my brain is hypervigilant bc traditionally these are the Danger Times#and this seems like it would be particularly common for survivors of abusive/dysfunctional households (aka most people with c-ptsd)#because holidays/vacations typically mean 1) the whole family is together/being forced to interact#2) and undergoing external stressors e.g. travel/relatives aka 'outsiders' visiting/routines & coping mechanisms being interrupted etc#3) there is social pressure for this to be a Fun Family Bonding Experience which only highlights the cracks in the foundation#and exposes the common Everything Is Fine/We Are A Happy Family lie#4) the cognitive dissonance of feeling tired/anxious/stressed/afraid during a time when you are 'supposed' to be Making Good Memories#and then everyone is angry/tired/anxious/triggered and things boil over and something or someone goes Very Wrong#weird that i'm posting this in october when halloween is...sort of the ONLY holiday i have only good and happy feelings towards#i got lucky there#also i have positive feelings towards Labor Day but that's for socialist reasons
4K notes · View notes
psychofreakforc · 7 months
Text
There are a lot of scream vii theories of it being christmas themed and... whose birthday is in December?
TARA!!! and you know what that means? More truma for her. yippie.
It's December 14th.
The movie starts with a party, Tara's birthday party. She hasn't actually celebrated it since sam left, but now she's back, and she's so happy, so what could possibly go wrong?
Yeah, everything goes in the most possible wrong way.
Someone dies at the party. They get murdered at the party .
And on the wall, there's a sign written with the victim's blood that says "happy birthday tara." Needless to say, Tara did not have a happy birthday.
The killings stops.
Ghostface doesn't show up again until a day before Christmas Eve.
96 notes · View notes
huntingrays · 1 year
Text
aa headcanon/prompt:
during the years they spent being friends with each other, phoenix realizes that not only has he never celebrated miles’ birthday with him, but also that he has no clue when it is.
he knows miles doesn’t seem much like a party person, but he would still like to have a small celebration with him. miles always comes to the parties for himself as well as maya, trucy, and even apollo and athena. he wanted to find a way to return the favor and throw a (small, casual) party for his favorite prosecutor when the time rolled around for his birthday.
the only trouble was finding out when his birthday was. for some reason, whenever he asked, miles would find a way to dodge the question or to just ignore it and divert phoenix’s attention to another matter. it was incredibly infuriating and only made phoenix more determined to find out when the man was born.
it took miles being injured for him to find out the answer.
during a crime scene investigation, a few series of unfortunate events resulted in miles breaking his arm. though the stubborn man insisted he was fine, phoenix insisted that he was not and took him to the hospital.
phoenix decided to be the one to fill out miles’ paperwork, since miles was injured. he was able to fill out most of the information with ease, except for medical history and date of birth. he asked miles for his date of birth, but miles remained silent. he asked him once again and miles sighed heavily before divulging the information to him. though phoenix had wanted to know this for months, he regretted it the moment he heard the date.
“december 28th, 1992.”
now he knew why miles didn’t celebrate his birthday.
94 notes · View notes
androidboy · 1 month
Text
i don’t think my real anniversary gift for my gf will be here on time but i think even if i just gave her bread that i made a lil design on and nothing else she’d love it. it’s hard to have gift giving as one of my top love languages when both giving and receiving gifts are NOT one of hers 💔
8 notes · View notes
beliscary · 7 months
Text
Title: Ascalon, Upturned Ship: Dion/Terence Terence-centric, Character Study, Terence & Bahamut, Implied Sensuality, Rating T+ “Have I overstepped? If I have not yet, then let me now.”
Terence wants a word.
part (1/2) ~1k.
---
"Terence," Dion teased. "I can hear you thinking."
So he was, though not for lack of trying. Sleep would have been far more welcome than thought. 
It would be Greagor's Day tomorrow—or, if time had slipped past on quieter feet than either of them had realized, it was Greagor’s Day today. A holy day of the highest degree, so named for Her indomitable will. A day for prayers, for wishing, for bringing light to others during this, the longest night of the year, even if that light was as slight and fragile as a candle’s flame. The Goddess’ ceaseless war against darkness came to its head on this night, and Her people, loyal soldiers that they were, would only be glad to stand with Her. 
Every year the great battle raged, and every year when it seemed that perhaps night would win at last, She would triumph again. Slowly, the days would grow longer, and surely, the darkness would retreat—by Greagor's sacred mercies; holy; holy. 
Tonight Dion would pass over the capitol on Bahamut’s wings, a beacon to the people and a testament to Sanbreque’s might, its will, and its faith—glorifying the Holy Emperor, barely drawing the notice of Their dull and glutted Eminences, boring Prince Olivier to tears. The curse would crawl further up his arm for the privilege. 
It didn’t bear thinking about, especially with Dion’s heart beating steady beneath his ear. Terence closed his eyes. He had decided a long time ago he would never ask anything of Dion on the Goddess's day, but…
"You should be far too tired for thinking.” Sensing imminent movement, Dion placed a kiss on the crown of Terence’s head. On any other day, the strategy would have been sound. "I have not left you wanting, have I?”
Huffing, Terence turned on his back. Let Dion see for himself how he had left him.
He could not even have pride at the sound of his soft inhale. With thought, disquiet had caught itself against him, like cloth on rough skin. He went still, anticipating the dip of the bed as his Prince settled beside him. Terence saw gold hair, the curve of his cheek. He turned from them and held his breath.
“Tell me,” he heard Dion say.
In all the years Terence had been privy to them, the Prince's rooms had been kept clean, orderly, and as tastefully appointed as the glory of Sanbreque might allow. That had not saved them from beautiful, sugared scenes of war, their subjects—victors and the vanquished—resplendent in their sticky frosting of plaster. Terence had long since committed every sickly detail of the frescoes surrounding them to memory. An idle mind could do far worse. 
One sleepless night he had found a small golden dragon, tucked deep in the corner of the frame the walls made, quite beyond notice. The creature was not one of any special significance—there were fiercer wyrms, to be sure, bolder and more beautiful besides—but he liked the steady purpose he saw in its face, its rearing posture and clean white talons, the space it dared to take. That the painter had bothered with it at all when it seemed quite superfluous to do so had endeared it to him in the first place; the gilt scales, of course, took close second. He looked it in the eyes now, speaking low but true:
"I would ask an audience with the King."
From the very corner of his eye, Terence saw Dion stiffen, then masterfully recover. If Terence did not know his Prince so well, so attuned to any sign of stillness in him, he might not have noticed it at all. 
"He will not hear of it," Dion said gently. He reached for the fine, freshly shorn hair behind Terence's ear. "I—"
Will not, Terence wondered. Was he truly so particular? So proud? What of the people, then, who spent their prayers each day on—
He shut his eyes for a moment to think, allowing himself the fullness of the pleasure of Dion’s touch. He was always wanting. It couldn’t be helped.
"You do not want His attention," Dion added, even gentler. "Much less His regard."
Terence's right hand gathered, trapping his heartbeat inside his fist. It would be ridiculous to try to play it off, or to hide it from Dion, whether beneath a pillow or sheet or a lie. He placed it instead over his chest, clasping it tight to better hold his peace.
Dion reached for him again, tracing over the prominence of his knuckles. As he did, as he ever had, he made a space for himself, threading his fingers between Terence's and bringing his hand to his mouth for a kiss.
"It's a day for wishes, Terence,” he began, his voice tender as his touch. “Here is mine: stay. Sleep. To have you like this is a rare gift. A chance to weather the night with you by my side—I would be the worst sort of fool not to take it."
It was clumsy, but Terence had not exactly been fleet footed and sure himself. He was satisfied that he had at least broached the subject of permission. Without that, only forgiveness—if it were granted—remained. He told himself the scriptures held that ambition was sacred. Whatever Greagor had not given, She meant as a test of will, of love. He was resolved. 
"I will wake you before first light," Dion promised, pressing close. “I would see the sun rise with you by my side.” 
Terence relented. He put his back to the window, rolling the half turn he needed to bring Dion into the circle of his arms. It was easier than he expected to give himself over to sleep that way, even with the twinkling blue light of the Mothercrystal and the solstice decorations reflected in the warm brown of Dion’s eyes.
17 notes · View notes
monstriiss · 1 year
Text
ooc: hey gays things are likely to be even more sparse in the coming days :/
18 notes · View notes
asteria-argo · 25 days
Text
I have one extremely clueless friend, I love her dearly but she’s absolutely oblivious and that’s just in general, and then on top of that she is also straight which means she gets me hilariously ironic birthday presents like romance novels, not just any romance novel mind you, but dark romance novels, a genre that I personally cannot stand.
4 notes · View notes
stinkrascal · 1 year
Text
men who gift their wives/partners kitchen stuff for their birthday/christmas/etc should die
Tumblr media
27 notes · View notes
essektheylyss · 1 year
Text
I showed incredible restraint and did NOT buy the Caleb blazer.
I merely sent it to my sister and made her buy it for me as a Christmas present.
36 notes · View notes
infectedpaul · 3 months
Text
im like 99% sure i posted somewhere that pauls birthday was december 23rd which i totally forgot abt sorry girl um
4 notes · View notes
maddy-ferguson · 3 months
Text
my brother called me for christmas and i didn't recognize him because he has a deep voice now very much felt like killing myself when he said "this is [his name and my little sister's name] btw" at the end of the voicemail
#i was like is this a wrong number is this a prank because it's not particularly funny it's most likely a wrong number because i literally#don't know any random man who would be calling me for christmas#this is crazy#he's 12 and a half. 12 and 3/4 actually. so ig that tracks (yeah) but like#crazy#i haven't seen him or my little sister or my stepmother who isn't my stepmother anymore in 4 years because i HATED going to my dad's it was#the bane of my existence from 2009 to 2019 and i loved my brother and my little sister i loved seeing them but i don't regret the fact that#i stopped going even if it means i no longer have a relationship with them and only talk on our birthdays or i guess on christmas#like it does make me sad and when i considered not going anymore before i actually stopped i always thought about them and about how much i#loved them and i do miss them and hate the fact that idk we were only close for the first 8 years of my brother's life and 6 years of my#little sister's life but at the end of the day...it's like with my dad not having that substantial of a relationship with him (i see him a#few times a year for like a couple hours tops and like we talk but we don't TALK but we're not on bad terms we talk more now than we did#when i went to his house semi-regularly for the weekend) makes me sad but i can just. not think about it. and then i'm not sad lmao. like#yeah i'll have dreams about it (not as much as i used to) because it is a thing that is always going on with me but it's NOTHING compared#to what going there was like like i thought about it SO MUCH it made me SO MISERABLE and like actively miserable this is easier to deal#with. passively miserable. but not recognizing my brother's voice was crazy#i always call my little sister my little sister and i don't say that with my brother because i have another sister and she's ALSO my little#sister but not as little😭 like my sister: my sister who's 18 my little sister: my sister who's 10. my dad forbid us from saying half-#sibling🙏#and like i say: brf slt
4 notes · View notes
dirtytransmasc · 3 months
Text
(personal vent about my sack of shit father ruining christmas again)
me, my fathers only "daughter"/child:
helps my grandmother for weeks to prepare for his christmas party that neither of us wanted (he goes way over the top. invites his friends that are all loud drunks. cooks food we don't like. keeps the whole house up partying into the early hours of the morning. makes a mess and refuses to clean up after himself. doesn't spend time with us and instead hangs out with his friends, even for family holidays and events. etc.
me and my grandmother are disabled, constantly in pain/have stomach issues, and generally just want to be left on our own for holidays, so the whole event is just awful for us)
has been up since 6* in the morning, continuing to prepare for his party so he doesn't throw a hissy fit, running on only a few hours of sleep*, running around from store to store, cleaning, cooking, decoaring, etc.
spends hours trying to wake him up.
after doing everything I am capable of skill/strength wise, I took a two hour power nap before guests come.
helps serve dinner, makes drinks, fulfills every task my father gives me to maintain the delicate peace in the household, cause my grandmother wants to murder him*.
does all of this with no complaint.
my father:
promises his full and undivided attention and help the day before the party (this is the only day he's offered the slightest help outside of making a huge dinner no one but he and his friends wanted), he then breaks this promise, does nothing, delegates every task my grandmother has given him to me, and then leaves at 6 at night to go party, ignoring the amount of cooking he needs to finish.
doesn't come home for almost 12 hours (he came home at 6am), waking me up*, sleeps till 1, leaving me and my gradnmother do 90% of the things that needed to be done today (as his guests are coming at 4).
invites more friends than he originally told us about, ditching us after dinner (which we served) to go hang out outside and blast music so loud it shakes the house.
and then complains that I "slept all day" and "did nothing" so now I need to clean the whole kitchen and all the dishes of over 15 guests, not him, the reason there's such a mess to clean.
he continues to demand this even after something he cooks, knowing I hate it and it makes me feel ill, and stinks up the whole kitchen, making me go lie down because it made me nauseous and gave me a migraine.
I then get to spend the rest of my christmas eve cleaning, doing dishes, while barely holding back tears.
thanks dad, for ruining an already awful christmas, you fucking asshole.
5 notes · View notes
soft-girl-musings · 3 months
Text
listen. ik the holidays are about more than gifts. but when you've had about 2-3 christmas mornings in a row where one or both of your adult siblings has big feelings over what they were/weren't given, it's hard to not feel the pressure.
4 notes · View notes
lolexjpg · 3 months
Text
*me n pretty boy having a nice conversation at a coffeeshop*
a man w main character syndrome on an inappropriately loud piano:
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
kuhuc · 5 months
Text
I Match Energy So How We Gon' Act Today Retro Skeleton Hand tshirt
Tumblr media
Take it now for 20,99$
2 notes · View notes
otrtbs · 11 months
Note
okay so i just finished reading Christmas Preceding the End of the World and i just. want to curl up in a ball and bawl my eyes out. I love it so so much. the concept and the fact that it's on Christmas and just. everything. their stories and how they didn't have enough time... IM SO UNWELL. thank u for writing it nat dearest<3
LOOPS!! <333 LOOPS LOOPS LOOPS !!!
oh my gosh i adore you!!! thank you for giving my silly little christmas apocalypse story a read!! <33 i'm so glad you enjoyed it! i enjoyed writing it <333333
6 notes · View notes