Taylor Swift Ugly Christmas Sweater Novels & Stories

"Jackson, what the heck are you wearing?" Kaitlyn tried hard not to laugh as she spotted Jackson standing in the corner of the living room, holding a giant, bright green plate piled high with vibrant cookies. The way he was serving the treats was cute, but his outfit? He was wearing the most ridiculous, holiday sweater she had ever seen. It was knitted, and lit up with small LED lights that made him look like one of the room's decorations. But the best part, the hideous thing featured several pictures of gifts with the coy message splayed proudly in the middle: 'Can I be your gift tonight?'

Ugly. "Ari," I screamed at the top of my voice, just before she could pull the trigger. "Is this what you really want?”

Overall, it can be seen that although ugly is actually a bit ugly, it is still more than a rag. Looking at the finished sweater, Lisa was suddenly a little worried that this poor quality sweater would be 80% objectionable by Mark. Thinking about this, her heart suddenly felt a bit confused, but after thinking about it, she still felt that she would rather be disgusted than misunderstood. She sighed softly, tidied up briefly, then folded the sweater, hugged it in her lap, walked to the door and opened it. However, just as the door opened and Lisa stepped out of the guest room, a tall figure suddenly appeared in front of her.

SCARLETT. The club is packed when I walk in, all glitter and red velvet and people dressed like they're trying to fuck Santa. Which, honestly, same. I'm wearing a Mrs. Claus outfit that's basically lingerie with a Santa hat—white fur trim on red satin that barely covers my ass, thigh-high boots, the whole deal. I look hot as hell and I know it. My name's Scarlett. I do p**n for a living, which means I'm extremely comfortable with my body and what I want. And what I want tonight is to blow off some serious steam.

He answered. "I'm going to take a shower." She said, taking her coffee with her. "Well don't take too long, we have presents to unwrap and I have a surprise for you tonight." He said, not taking his eyes off the paper. She took a shower and dried off and came out to see he had laid out a hideous looking Christmas sweater on the bed for her. It had the words "His Elf" embroidered on it. "Are you serious?" She asked, walking into the kitchen, wearing the fucking thing. She then saw he too, was wearing a hideous sweater. His was equally horrifying and had the words "I like to touch My Elf." Embroidered on it.

I didn't think there was anything wrong with my outfit, but the way they all looked back at me made me rethink my choices… I was never the one to think much about my clothes, and since Christmas and ugly sweaters seemed to always go hand in hand, I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to wear the one my buddies gave to me last year. “We’re waiting for guests and you decided to wear a sweater that has Santa lying down with a gift before his… You know, and it even says ‘your gift is in the box’,” my little brother, Ashton, was the one to answer me, while my Mom and sis only shook their heads without saying anything. “I’m amazed you thought it was okay.”

To express this idea in another way, it is stated in their slogan. We put in an order for Maddy's sweater about a week ago, and we just now got word that it's been shipped and is ready to be picked up. It is a blue sweater with a snowman that is frowning and a lit-up tree with a dog that is urinating on the snowman. The dog is urinating on the snowman as the snowman is frowning. Maddy has a tremendous dislike to snowmen for some reason, thus this activity is ideal for her because it allows her to avoid having to interact with snowmen.

Elara's POV: I shouldn’t have come to this party. The music pulsed like a heartbeat through the walls, echoing in my ears and settling somewhere deep in my stomach, where nerves danced with something like regret. The air smelled like cheap cologne, spilled vodka, and entitlement, everything I tried to avoid. I didn’t belong here. My sweater clung awkwardly to my frame, my glasses kept slipping down the bridge of my nose, and I was probably the only one not live streaming this night on social media. In fact, I doubted anyone even noticed I was here.

A mocking smirk curled her lips as her nose wrinkled at the very sight of me. Sighing loudly, I ignored her, wiped my face, and pushed my way out of the restroom. My feet quickened to my locker and I scavenged through it for something to wear. The only thing available was an ugly yellow sweater gifted by my grandmother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Grammy, but the sweater was itchy besides looking like a dirty yellow ball of wool.

And when I looked in the mirror… I didn’t hate it. That was a small victory. I stepped out. Mariah’s eyes widened. “Jess.” “What?” I asked nervously. She pointed at me dramatically. “That sweater was made for you. You look like the main character in a Christmas movie.” I huffed. “Do I look like I’m about to bake cookies and fall in love with a small-town carpenter?” “Yes,” she said immediately. “And Noah Carter would absolutely be the carpenter.” I shoved her shoulder, laughing.