#christmas calendar

[thelien-art]

December; the 21

Yule day 1: The Golden Lady of the Golden Woods, and her Silver Lord

Count the fruits and the flowers

Moonflower; Moonflowers symbolize romance, mystery, and femininity. As they bloom in the darkness they also symbolize hope and beauty to emerge in dark times; Fun fact they have been used in different places and times in rituals honoring women as well as seen as a deity guide for the spirit, and used to see the future.

Orange; The orange has been known throughout a lot of time to represent the nobility as well as thought to bring wealth and happiness. It is ambitions and luxury and sometimes adventure.

And now I personally begin celebrating the dark days and the lights return, happy first Yule day! (yes I know it´s first tm, because winter solstice moved a day this year but it usually starts the 21, let me dream)

I think she fits so well to the day, especially since it´s the first and the lightest of them!!

Dark version under;

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[guineapiggies]

Via theroyalfurtatoes

[christmasxmas]

It's official!! 🎅🎄❄️🎁

[madamairlock]

you’re pretty screwed. - [02x19 - bsg, lay down your burdens]

saturnalia in space from scratch [22/24]

~ a bsg christmas calender by @madamairlock & @lalalauraroslin ���💜

22. getting tipsy on eggnog and mulled wine

Laura giggled and pulled away from Billy, but he tightened his arm around her and sighed. He had made the mistake of letting her go once and she had nearly ran off, but he had been quick enough to catch her and pull her back at the last minute. 

“Madam President.” He held back a groan when she tried to pull free for at least the fourth time in the few minutes they had been walking, his arm tightening around her waist. 

Changing tactics, she wrapped her arm around his and leaned into him, her head resting against his much taller shoulder. It wasn’t as comfortable as walking with Bill, but she made do with her aide’s help. The moment he loosened his grip when they reached the first ladder, she tried to slip out of his grasp again. 

“Madam President.” He looked at her, exasperation filling his voice and face. “Don’t make me call the Commander.” 

She giggled and he was grateful the corridors were empty this late at night. He wasn’t sure what she had been drinking with Commander Adama, but he had a feeling they’d all regret it in the morning. 

“Oh, Billy.” She smiled warmly and leaned into him again, her voice growing softer. “He had more to drink than I did!” Stifled giggles followed her words and she pulled back as far as she could. 

“You know what?” He looked between the President and the ladder, and quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. “You’re staying here tonight. If the Commander can get you this drunk, he can sober you back up too.” 

“I’m not drunk,” she argued immediately, but then paused to consider her words. “Slightly inebriated, maybe. Sober enough to remember that I need to be on Colonial One in the morning, even if I don’t remember the exact reason right now.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” Billy pulled her closer again, slightly concerned she might just take off like an uncontrolled child. 

By some miracle, he managed to guide her back to the Admiral’s quarters and saw her safely inside. Adama stoically—and barely holding back his own laughter—promised to take care of her and that was enough. Billy didn’t need or want to think about them any further and hurried back through the hatch, but hesitated before he walked away. He turned back to face the Marines and cleared his throat. 

“Look, I know I can’t give you orders or anything,” he started, but the closer Marine interrupted him. 

“We’ll make sure they stay inside.” They shared a knowing look and Billy nodded, relief coursing through him. 

“Good luck. And thank you.” He turned away, not envious of the Marines’ jobs and grateful he only had to help clean up the mess in the morning.

[mudhamster]

Can he woo him with niceties?

30. November

Izuku stares at the small jar between his sweaty hands. It was filled with twenty-four small, rolled up pieces of paper. A calendar. Handmade. For Kacchan. 

Initially, he had simply scribbled pleasantries on them. A kind gesture between friends. Good friends. Friends who are cool with each other as long as there are other people in the room. Friends who get along perfectly until they are left alone somewhere. But then...came the overwhelming desire for more. For some kind of clarity. For closure.

It's been years now. Years. Years in which he has streamlined his admiration for Kacchan and crushed it every chance he got, every time it got too big in his head, every time it got so intense that it made him almost brave and way too stupid. He feels like floating on waves of hope and terror as soon as Kacchan looked at him for a second too long. And he did. Often. It was horror. Emotional torture. For years.

But it wouldn't go on for another year.

Approaching Kacchan face to face with the 'issue' was out of the question.  A no-go, his head, stomach and heart would instantly combust if Kacchan would just look at him, the moment Izuku confronted him with this plan whirling in his mind.  

But with this jar full of possibilities... it offers the perfect opportunity to finally... FINALLY close the loop. 

Now is the best time of the year to do it, because there comes a day for everyone when it's time to go home and celebrate Christmas. Time to fill the belly with pot roast and the head with carols and ideas for the future.

Sighing softly, he ran his index finger through the colorful scraps of paper. He wanted to do this. He really did. But it scared the hell out of him. 

His original idea to gift Kacchan a nice little calendar had turned into a subtle plan to woo the other. He had crumpled up some of the harmless slips of paper and replaced them. Some of the notes were now of a more daring nature. The note with 'Hug', for example. If Kacchan drew it too early, it could ruin everything. 

And the note for the 24th ... well, Kacchan was only allowed to open it after all the others had been used. Because on the last note, Izuku had finally thrown caution to the wind. It was all or nothing at Christmas, IF Kacchan used all the other 23 notes. 

This was the only way he would survive the opening of this particular note. It was pure tactics. Assuming that he and Kacchan had already failed in the attempt to hug (and let's be honest: he does), Kacchan could simply let the 24th note go up in flames and both of them would still have enough dignity left to overlook this desperate attempt to get closer next year. 

With a final prayer to the All Might, who looked down on him from his wall in poster form, he picked up the jar and left his room.

He knocks, twice, lowers his hand and steps back. The glass mists between his fingers, the skin between his shoulder blades damp. He is so nervous that he has to actively remind himself to breathe. To relax his face, to keep his shoulders from hunching under his ears. To appear relaxed. 

Behind the door, he heard the creak of a desk chair and took a breath so quickly that black spots crossed his vision. Shifting his weight, Izuku raised the glass to his chest with both hands and forced himself to smile. Except... Kacchan hated fake smiles. The corners of his mouth turned down within a second. Footsteps could be heard. His little finger slipped off the glass. "Crap," he gasped, lowering the glass to his stomach and hastily wiping it dry on his sweater. One of the slips fell out. 

"C-crap!"

He crouches, his knee barely touching the floor, as the door jerks open. A pair of black socks steps up to the threshold, the silence filled with so much unspoken dialogue that Izuku already knew how Kacchan was looking at him before he even turned his head. 

The blond skipped his What the hell? and Izuku skipped his apology. 

Instead, he picked up the small piece of green paper from the ground, threw it into the glass with the others and straightened up.

"This," he holds out his hands with the glass, "is for you."

Red eyes, narrowed in skepticism and annoyance, sink down to his hands over his insecure grin. Izuku follows his gaze. 

To the jar of niceties. 

The jar of risks. 

If he gripped it any tighter, the glass would shatter. Now or never. 

If Katsuki took it now, he would have no chance to change what would happen next. Licking his lips, he nodded encouragingly, "It's a calendar."

Murmuring something that sounded very much like "For what?", Katsuki simply took the jar from his hands, shook it and looked into it with irritation. "What are these notes?"

Izuku's heart stuttered heavily, for the jar had finally left his possession and his fate had taken an inevitable direction, the outcome of which suddenly seemed to him as if he were sailing without sails on an endless ocean, on whose horizon heavy storm clouds were already gathering, which his naked boat would surely...

"Deku"

His thought snapped and he jumped. What was the question? He stared back at the glass, searching for words that weren't 90% cheesy, then squeaked, "Niceties.”

Katsuki's eyes narrowed even more, even though he hadn't thought it possible, and before Izuku understood what was happening, he pulled out one of the pieces. He tucked the glass under his arm and was about to unfold the note when Izuku's brain caught up with him. 

"Don't!" he shouts, "Not yet!" he grabbed Kacchan's hand, clutching warm fingers and the note and looking up with a pounding heart, "It's a calendar, Kacchan! You don't open the first drawing until tomorrow. Not - not today."

"And who's gonna stop me, huh?" he grunts and jerks his hand free, "You?"

The thought of taking the glass back from him pops into his head. He is at a loss for words. How could he make Kacchan wait until tomorrow? Should he appeal to his honor? His dignity? Kacchan's manners?

"Just please ...don't."

As always, pleading with the blonde was like a squirt of lemon in the eye. Kacchan winced and almost reluctantly put the note back into the glass, giving Izuku, who was still standing in the hallway, a last, deeply irritated look. 

"Thanks or whatever."

And well. With that, the jar was indeed handed over. Ugh. Just like that. 

Izuku takes a last breathless look at Kacchan's hands, in which the glass seems to be even smaller than in his own, before the door slams shut in his face. 

"Good night Kacchan," he whispers, his nerves fraying faster than the fastest cycle of a washing machine, as he heads back to his own room.

The calendar for spoiler immune folks:

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Kiss - Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: K: Kiss (How do they react to a kiss? Flustered? Happy? Surprised?) (from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Warnings: alcohol mention, food consumption (sweets) Word count: 1 369 A/N: Let’s ignore the energy bill and climate change for the sake of fiction.

The ice underneath the blades of your skates was slippery but you were glad you held a good balance. Even with the hand that was tightly clasped around your gloved fingers. You chuckled as Gerard tightened his grip on you, swaying slightly on his skates while you were gliding along in the thinning out crowd, late at night at your city’s ice rink, right in the middle of the Christmas market.

The surrounding buildings were already decorated with Christmas lights, the stalls that were built up on one side of the ice rink still selling their goods, ranging from tiny window decorations and figures, over soaps, baking equipment, sweets, mulled wine and savoury snacks. And right beside the rink stood the tallest Christmas tree you had ever seen. It was decorated in reds and golds, thousands of tiny lights illuminating the dark around you beautifully.

Before getting your ticket to the ice rink, Gerard and you had wandered over the market, hand in hand, looking at all the stalls. He had treated you to caramelised almonds, taking way too much delight in feeding you with them. You had felt a little childish, doing something so terribly cheesy so publicly, but nobody around you had minded, and while the glimmer in Gerard’s eyes had made the burn on your cheeks all the worse, the sight was definitely worth the slight embarrassment. What made it even stranger was that while yes, you were on a date together, and not the first one either, you were not really dating yet. At least you didn’t think you were.

Gerard had always been rather held back, and when he had not kissed you after a handful of dates, had barely managed to ask to take your hand, you had not been sure if he was even as interested in you as you were in him. But he had kept asking you out, always making sure to arrange the next meeting before the end of the current one, as if to leave no doubt that he wanted to keep seeing you.

A few dates ago you had carefully tried to ask him about it, when he had drawn back as you had slightly leant in, hoping he would let you kiss him. He had been a blushing stuttering mess, but the message had come across: he was shy and wanted to take things slowly. Which you were more than okay with. Only that you were not sure how slow “slowly” was. By now he had no problem holding your hand or feeding you sweets, but sometimes, whenever his eyes flickered to your lips, his cheeks would turn an adorable pink and he would avert his eyes.

Now his fingers clutched around yours once more as he struggled to keep his balance on the ice.

“This was a really bad idea,” he stated, a mixture of a chuckle and a whine, as he held out his free arm, trying to stabilise himself.

“Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine,” you assured him with a grin, squeezing his hand shorty. “Besides, it wasn’t me who suggested it.”

“I thought it would be romantic, but this is just embarrassing,” Gerard whined, almost punching an elderly lady, who skated by, as he flared around his arm, before breaking into a string of excuses to the lady who had not even noticed.

For a moment you blinked in surprise at his words. He had wanted this to be romantic. Yes, of course this was a date, but you had not even considered that he was making an active effort to make this romantic. For you.

“Okay, okay, stop. Calm down,” you snapped back into the moment, realising how hard Gerard was fighting to stay upright. Quickly you skated in front of him, turning so you were skating backwards, and taking hold of both his hands. “Try bending your knees, and don’t lean forwards so far,” you recommended.

Gerard followed your advice surprisingly well, which quickly stopped his swaying.

“See? You’re doing amazing!”

“How can you say that? I’m making a complete fool of myself,” he rolled his eyes. You could see how hard he was concentrating on keeping his balance, while following your instructions, and it almost made you laugh. Which would have been unfair, since you had started out way worse than him the first time you had ice skated.

“You’re not, trust me, Gee,” you smiled, squeezing his hands reassuringly. “Do you want to take a break?”

At his relieved nod, you looked over your shoulder and stirred him over to the barrier, intending for him grab onto the reel besides you, but he seemed to have gotten enough skill with which way he wanted to go, because instead of bumping against the barrier at your side, he caught you trapped between it and himself, holding onto the edge with hands at both of your sides. Surprised you looked at him, finding he was looking at you already, his eyes shimmering with an intensity you had not yet seen with him.

“Can I kiss you?”

His question took you aback, but the jump your heart made at his question was undeniable. The lights of the Christmas tree behind your back reflected in Gerard’s eyes, which were, for the first time, unashamedly fixed on your lips.

Quickly you nodded, uncertain whether you could phrase any words right now. But your nod seemed to be good enough for Gerard and secretly you were glad he did not tease you for your lack of words.

Instead his lips met yours, cold from the freezing winter air, but with his warmth quickly melting through. His kiss was soft, but full of emotion as his chapped lips moved carefully against yours. You felt him shiver when you placed a hand at his waist while he held onto the barrier behind you with both hands, just pulling himself a little closer so his body was flush against yours. Through the thick jackets you could even feel his chest expanding with each shaky breath he took and then released to fan warmly over your cheeks.

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” he whispered after he had pulled away from the kiss, barely far enough to properly see his face.

Blinking up at him, you smiled softly. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead that poked out from underneath his beanie.

“But it’s-“

“Nothing, you hear me?” Quickly you pressed another kiss to his lips, this time to the corner of his mouth, making him smile and look up at you from underneath his lashes. It made you want to kiss him all over again, all over his face, peppering every inch you could reach, but you resisted the urge, and just smiled back as he took a shaky breath.

“Okay,” he decided. “I think I’m ready to try again.”

Carefully he let go of the reeling.

“We don’t have to, you know,” you reminded him. “If you’d rather get off the ice we can do that too.”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I want to learn. And I get a good excuse to hold your hand.”

Following his words, he took your right hand into his left.

“You don’t need an excuse to do that,” you giggled, but closed your fingers around his.

“I know. But still. Besides, I was kind of hoping-“

He stopped himself, before he had finished the sentence, a new blush burning on his cheeks.

“What were you hoping for,” you asked curiously, studying his embarrassed face more closely as you pulled away from the reeling. How could anyone look so devastatingly pretty?

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, not daring to meet your amused eyes, as he carefully followed you back in line with the few people who were still doing rounds. “I mean… there is still the possibility of both of us falling and us accidentally kissing.”

His words were quiet, but stunned you for a third time that night. When you saw him glance at you, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“That can be arranged, you know?”

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns​ @lookalivefrosty​ @butterflycore​  @omgsuperstarg​ @fivelegance​ @deadlovers​ @casmustdiee​ @cmtryghoul​  

[wallywise]

Just opened the last case of my Stranger things Christmas calendar :D !

It was little charms and they are soooo cute

My favourite is the little music tape ‘for Will’ it’s just ADORABLEEE

I had another calendar like this, with little charms, but on Taylor Swift :D (i will be able to do the BEST friendship bracelet for the eras tour !!! (I have my tickets since summer and I’m really starting to get excited 😫 I was soooo happy when she announced she was coming to Europe ! (I just bought my dress it’s light blue and sooo SPARKLY, I honestly cannot wait it’s awful xD)

Anyway not here to talk about my life 🥴 ! (But if you want I can 🤭 did y’all watch the first two episode of Pjo ?? I’m obsessed and rebloging a lot about it on my second account @hyperfixatedbean !))

ANYWAY IM GETTING SIDETRACKED : Just wanted to share my calendar cause it’s absolutely adorable and I didn’t really post in AGES !!

How are y’all doing?? Is anyone still here ? X’)

[therollypollyrolli]

bugbo!!!!!!

[peikonlainen]

Kolmas joulukalenteri, jonka haluaisin olevan oikeasti olemassa 🌟

My third idea for Christmas calendar I wish would exist 🌟

[thelien-art]

December; the 11th

Eowyn

I´m always torn in between making Rohan Europe, in the medieval times, or nomadic tribes, inspired, but now I have made peace with myself by making Rohan as Europe and the Haladin as nomadic as I see them as the ancestors of Rohan.

The length of the braid under the first green ribbon is horse hair, as I like to think the people of Rohan used the manes of horses in many different ways, one of them as some type of ornament.

[andallshallbewell]

[fairytalemovies]

[christmasxmas]

[madamairlock]

the whole damn thing will become our frakkin’ responsibility, yours and mine. - [04x04 - bsg, escape velocity]

saturnalia in space from scratch [4/24]

~ a bsg christmas calender by @madamairlock & @lalalauraroslin 💜💜

4. keeping each other warm

���Frak, your hands are cold,” he commented. “Do they get any blood flow from the rest of your body?” 

She nearly purred when his hand closed around hers, encasing it in his never-ending warmth. He took her other hand and held them both, covering them so nothing was exposed to the slightly chilly air.  “Cottle’s confirmed it’s fine; I just run cold.” Her hands shifted beneath his and she leaned closer, her head finding its way back to his shoulder.  “This is more than running cold. I think the Underworld is warmer than this.” He pulled her hands into his lap and she moved with him until their legs were pressed together. “Are they ever warm?”   “Only when you’re holding them.” With a soft smile and a hum, she relaxed against him and let the last of the day slip from her shoulders. “I think we should do something for Saturnalia,” she added, the idea still pleasantly bouncing around in her head.  “Like what?” She shrugged without moving anything but her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”  “I won’t stop you, but this is all you.” He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t look up.  “You won’t help?” she asked softly.  He sighed and kissed her head as he squeezed her hands. “I’ll help,” he reluctantly agreed. “Within reason; you’re not turning my ship into a winter wonderland.”  “Bill, I don’t think there’s anything I could do to turn this grey monstrosity into a winter wonderland.” Even as she said the words, she knew she didn’t mean them. “I love Galactica,” she added quickly, “but sometimes she gets a little overwhelming. So much grey and darkness. At least Colonial One has color and brighter lights.”  “You get used to it.” He grunted and still shot her a displeased but mild glare at the insult to his ship.  “If we can find or make any decorations, I’d like to hang a few up. Maybe in the mess, the observation lounge. I’ll talk to the captain of Cloud Nine too and see what we can do there. Just something to remind everyone.” Her nose wrinkled as she considered how to work decoration hunting in with all of her other work that was already piling up.  “You really want to do this?” He finally moved one of his hands and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes.  “If we keep focusing on work and only work, people are going to burn out very quickly. I’m surprised more haven’t.” She paused and sighed, the dwindling population number flashing across her mind unbidden. “We’ll celebrate for a few days. Then back to the end of the world.”  “I said I’ll help, Laura. Tomorrow. I’m ready to pass out for the night.” He kissed her softly. “You staying?”   “Mhmm. I’ll deal with both the Quorum and decorations while I’m on Cloud Nine tomorrow,” she decided, allowing him to pull her to her feet and lead her toward his rack.

[mudhamster]

CHWHWN: 13. December - "quirk analysis"

Kacchan: Deku deku deku *image attached* You still think you can tell me things about myself that I don't know Deku: That's a fact I guess everyone you ask could tell you something about yourself that you don't know yet Or don't want to realize Or want to hear Which is why you don't ask anyone Which brings us back to the beginning Anyway It doesn't have to be about you Kacchan: It's always about me. You write books (plural!!)about me Deku: I write books about everyone Kacchan: and yet, there are more than 2 about me Deku: how do you know that Kacchan: I've been in your room Deku: Less than 20min ⊙︿⊙ Kacchan: Didn't even need 2 to figure that out … Do you have a book about yourself? Deku: More than 2... I've about one book for every 2 quirks Kacchan: Or 2 books for one Quirk ghehe Deku: oh my god Kacchan, yes, you're so so SO special :D Why did you ask Kacchan: I want to see your notes about yourself. Deku: Seriously? There are much more interesting ones, though? Kacchan: My note, my will Your room or mine? Deku: mine...?

And although Izuku had thought a lot in the few minutes that had passed before Katsuki knocked, he had never expected how smoothly the other would step over the threshold into his nerdy safe space. He found his usual place by the bed, just like the last time, and waited, almost without looking annoyed, until Izuku wordlessly handed him what he wanted to read. The notebook. This, and then… a lot more. Minutes passed unnoticed, then hours, and finally, with a half-hearted glance at his alarm clock, he realized that they had already been sitting there longer than it would have been possible on any other day, like the movie night. Countless notebooks around them, open and filled to the brim with sticky notes. Izuku didn't even notice when Katsuki grabbed the notebooks about himself and his explosions from the shelf. They talked and talked and laughed and talked some more and then they compared their achievements, added the notebook about Shouto to their comparison scale and suddenly it was way past midnight - and Izuku couldn't believe it when he briefly checked the time with the first pangs of real tiredness. "Wow," he breathed, eyes glued to the clock, "if we had watched a movie last Wednesday, we would have finished much earlier than today." "Yeah, it escalated a bit." "Things always escalate with you. It comes with friendship." Kacchan takes a breath, looks at him, then nods.

"Right." And suddenly the question crossed his mind, as it had a thousand times that day: Had Kacchan already drawn 'the hug'? And as always, he couldn't stop himself and asked what he had to ask: "Do you want to do… ugh……. one of the other two notes? Maybe?" Because… if it was the hug… then today would be a good day for it, wouldn't it? But Katsuki just took a quick peek at his bed and Izuku's guts took the bottomless elevator down to the basement. WHAT. Why… the look at the bed???!!!????? "Not today." WHAT?!!!? Izuku became metaphorically deaf as the voice in his head screeched out all the questions at the highest frequency possible. Just a welding seam would have closed his mouth tighter than it already was. He couldn't say a word as he watched Kacchan carefully piling up the notebooks and then searching for his cell phone. Right, they had been talking so much that they hadn't had a phone in their hands for more than four hours. But of course, Izuku knew where it was. "I plugged it in earlier, … it's on my nightstand." …. next to a picture of them - Katsuki and Izuku - and suddenly he realized that Kacchan would see the picture. It was turned, not visible from any other angle in the room. But would he sit down on his bed, close enough to the pillow to unplug his phone ---- "WAIT, wait I'll get - Kacchan -!!" But … the mobile was already in his hand. And to Izuku's world-ending shock, the picture as well. He wanted to faint. On the spot. Suddenly, he felt naked, as if he had been put in the stocks, stripped and splashed with cold water. Was it too much? Was it too obvious? Did Kacchan know from the picture that he had more in mind than the platonic deepening of their friendship? Crap. CRAP. But with each passing day, they were getting closer to the end anyway. The end that would decide whether Kacchan and Deku would be one step closer to being MORE than friends next year, or whether they would be nothing at all. In the long run, it was inevitable. In those 10 seconds that Izuku had a severe pre-crisis, Kacchan had put the picture back and grabbed his backpack. As if he hadn't seen anything. As if such a picture, kept almost secret, was something normal. Not worth mentioning. "See you tomorrow, nerd," he said. So casually, so banally, nudging Izuku's shoulder, who almost had an out-of-body experience by the touch. And then the door closed and Izuku's eyes almost popped out as he stared like crazy from the door to the picture and back to the door. What - the - flip.