#dried fruit garlands

[cottonkhaleesi]

Dried fruit garlands reporting for Christmas duty!

Which do you like the best?

[vintagehomecollection]

Red roses in full bloom, garlands of juniper, and ropes of sliced dried fruit meet in a sumptuous showing on the mantel of Williams's living room. Carolyn Gregg ran ropes of juniper around the mirror above the fireplace and let them puddle onto the mantelpiece.

House Beautiful Christmas, 1994

[stevviefox]

These are beautiful!!

I made a bunch of dried citrus garland and ornaments this year, and if you’re looking for low-budget high-impact gift ideas for the holiday season, I cannot recommend this enough. I have had nearly all of my aunts reach out to ask me for these already.

All you do is take oranges (and grapefruit, in my case, but you could use any citrus fruit, lemon and limes included. You could also do slices of apple or other fruits, but they don’t dry as pretty) and cut them into slim, even slices. Blot the slices as dry as you can get them with paper towel, then lay them flat on drying racks, if you have them, or cookie sheets if you don’t. The cookie sheets will take longer, but will probably produce flatter slices at the end. If you want to, you can take cloves and push them into the slices before you dry them; the oranges should contract around them and hold them in place.

Put these into the oven at 200-220 degrees F (93 C), and bake for at least 4 hours. Check them hourly; it may take up to 7 hours, depending on the thickness of your slices and oven air circulation. Take them out when they no longer feel wet or sticky to the touch. 

A 5 lb bag of navel oranges was enough to garland most of this tree. All you need for that is a thick needle and some string (DMC embroidery floss works well, and is less than a dollar a skein at walmart and other chain stores). You just tie off the first orange, and then use the needle to go in and out each slice near the edges. If you’re making ornaments, check your local dollar store for bits of ribbon, jingle bells, beads or whatever else seems good to you. A hot glue gun is helpful but not necessary; all the ornaments here are just tied together. 

I have plenty of herbs drying in my cupboard, so I also used some sprigs of rosemary and lavender, plus cinnamon sticks, cloves, and allspice. Rosemary is easy to find as live plants in the grocery section, and you can trim some off without killing the plant (and then you have i n f i n i t e  r o s e m a r y). Get creative!

These smell fantastic, and should last multiple seasons if they’re dried allll the way and stored in airtight containers. (I chucked some of the odd bits into my mulling spices, which is lovely.) They’re a very old method of decorating and look beautiful even when they’re not perfect. If you’ve made these before, I’d love to see what you made!

[pedrospatch]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these damn things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but heartache this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[breelandwalker]

Cold Moon - December 14-15 2024

Bundle up, witches! It’s time for the Cold Moon!

Cold Moon

The Cold Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of December. This will be another month when the moon appears full for two nights in a row, so we’ll have a nice bright full moon in the sky for the 14th and the 15th, with peak illumination on Dec 15th at 4:02am EST.

Like most full moon names, the Cold Moon takes its’ moniker from an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups. There are a number of indigenous names that reference the wintry conditions when this moon occurs, including Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee), Winter Moon (Tunica-Biloxi), Hoar Frost Moon (Cree), and Long Night Moon (Mohican). More evocative names include Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree) and Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala), both of which refer to a phenomenon which occurs during extreme cold, when the sap inside a tree freezes and the expanding pressure causes portions of the bark or even entire limbs to “pop” with loud cracking sounds that can be heard for miles.

Other names for the December moon include Yule Moon (Norse origins), Oak Moon (Celtic origins), and Bitter Moon (Chinese origins).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The year is winding down. It’s time to wrap up our projects and put aside what we haven’t finished or no longer need. Rather than berating ourselves for the things we didn’t finish or didn’t accomplish, this is a time to give ourselves some grace and celebrate our successes and triumphs and the things we DID accomplish.

With only one page left on the calendar, many of us are already looking ahead to the new year, making plans and setting goals. This is a good time to brainstorm and engage in a bit of broad-view planning. Sketch out the things you’d like to see or do or try in the new year. Give voice to your dreams and start thinking of ways to make them happen.

The Cold Moon also falls shortly before the winter solstice this year (Dec 21), which could be a boon for anyone looking to time their seasonal rituals in optimal fashion. A working could be begun on the full moon and built up to culminate on the solstice, or whichever post-moon December date has special meaning to you and your practice.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Have a small supper gathering with friends or family (holiday themed or not, it’s up to you) to share joys and fellowship and enjoy good food and drink. Make wishes together for the new year. (Wish jars can be done individually or as an informal group ritual. Sharing wishes anonymously can be a fun party game.) A “White Elephant” gift exchange or swap meet with inexpensive or homemade witchy goods for your circle could be fun too!

Make a wish jar for the new year and put it out to charge under the Cold Moon. Cleanse any of your tools or crystals or accoutrements that you use moonlight for one more time this year.

This is the perfect time for divinations and goalsetting for the coming year. Pull out your favorite divination tools and your new planner and sketch out the coming year. You can also try candle wax divination with holiday candles, if that’s something that interests you.

Also, save those seasonal bayberry candles for future use! They’re great for debt repayment and money-drawing spells.

If you need some ideas for a fun family activity, you can feed the birds for good luck, either with scattered birdseed or pinecone birdfeeders. String dried fruit slices, cinnamon sticks, pinecones, holly leaves and berries, and other seasonal faves to make garlands. Stick apples or oranges or clementines full of cloves in pretty patterns to make pomanders.

Use those fibre arts skills to create a special piece to keep your home warm and safe and well-supplied until spring. It doesn’t have to be anything big - a simple weaving or single square will do. Crochet or cut out snowflakes for your home decor. If you want to get fancy, pick up a ball of cotton warp thread and look for old doily patterns - they look great as hoop weavings hung on the wall (or make a witch web in winter colors).

Make one more batch of moonwater to carry you through to the new year. If it happens to snow or freeze where you live, you can save clean snow or icicles for special (non-drinkable) elemental water, which can be a fun base for moonwater as well.

And speaking of elements, make sure to remember in all your seasonal decorating that fire safety is paramount. Be careful with your candles, warmers, light strings, plugs, extension cords, and cables. DO NOT “daisy chain” your extension cords or power strips. Never leave candles or wax warmers or simmer pots unattended, and turn off your holiday lights before bedtime. Safety first, witches!

Thanks for joining me for this exploration of full moon magic. See you next year!

Happy Cold Moon, witches! 🌕🧊

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Secular Celebration Suggestions for Yule

Moon Rise Calculator - The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Cold Moon: Full Moon in December 2024, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

December Full Moon 2024: Cold Moon’s Epic Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

How Do Trees Survive The Winter?, National Forest Foundation.

How to Make Pomander Balls, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Fun Kid’s Activity: Winter Pinecone Bird Feeder, Audubon Southwest.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 3

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

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Y/N held Bucky’s arm as he led her through the village.  People who hadn’t been down by the shore watched her walk by, some of them bowing and others smiling widely.  They reached a tall black structure, the hof, or temple as Bucky explained, and she was separated from Bucky and brought inside.  She followed Winnifred until she was presented to a group of women who were surrounding a bath.  They were all in simple strapped dresses, as the heat of the water dampened the air heavily.

“We must prepare you for the marriage ceremony tonight,” Winnifred said.   Y/N nodded, trying to relax the nervous flutter of her heart.  “They will take care of you, and I will come for you when they’re finished.”  Y/N was stripped and washed extensively.  Her hair and teeth were brushed and cleaned, her body scrubbed in all the crevices, even in spots she was embarrassed being touched.  She took it all in stride, assuming that it was customary.  When it was all done she was dried off with a fine blanket and then dressed in an outfit like what Winnifred was wearing, but the dress was a dark green color and the fur adorned on her shoulders was that of a fox, the red complimenting the dress nicely.  Her hair was braided and her fingertips dipped in a red paint that dyed her skin quickly.  She was given a necklace that attached to her dress made of beads, metal and bone. A circlet crown was placed atop her head nestled in her hair, made of finely woven metal, more beads and tiny pieces of gold.  

Winnifred came to collect her and brought her to the front door of the temple.  “I will present you to our people, and you will be given a new name,” she explained.

“A new name?” Y/N questioned.  “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing, my child.  You will go by both names.  Y/N, your English given name, and a new Danish one, given by prophecy from a seer…me,” she gave Y/N a wink.  Y/N nodded as Winnifred tapped the doors with her staff.  They opened instantly from the outside and Y/N was greeted by everyone in the village, torches lining the way as nightfall set in.  Winnifred led her out into the small clearing in front of the temple.  “I give you Y/N, a lost daughter of Freya, our soon-to-be Drottning and wife of my son, James.”  She lifted her hands towards the sky.  “I call upon our Aesir!  We present this child to you for reclamation!”  Her hands shook and a faraway rumble of thunder was heard, making the crowd of people mumble as they watched the sky.   The clouds seemed to clear for a moment, and as the stars peeked through Winnifred smiled.  “Astrid,” she beamed.  She placed her hands on Y/N’s face.  “Y/N  Astrid, daughter of Freya, Drottning of the Danes, child of the stars.”

The crowd of people cheered as Y/N smiled at Winnifred.  Winnifred led her to Bucky who stood nearby.  He had also bathed and was dressed in a long dark red tunic, brown pants and deep brown boots, an even longer fur coat on his shoulders.  His braids and hair adornments were renewed and he wore a necklace with a round pendant.  Y/N gawked at him, appreciating him all cleaned up as he took her hand, leading her through the people.  Many of them reached out their hands to touch her, speaking to her in their language and some in English congratulating her and welcoming her.  Bucky led her to a clearing in the middle of the village with a large bonfire heating the area.  There were garlands covered in flowers and fruit, furs placed throughout the seating areas, and people playing instruments she didn’t recognize.  A few women were singing along with the music, their voices hauntingly rippling through the air.  Something about the whole thing felt so right, so comforting, so true, that Y/N fought back tears watching them celebrate.

They approached an arch made of horns where another woman dressed similar to Winnifred stood.  As people got into positions around the fire and seating areas the woman held her hand up to quiet the players and singers.  She held up her painted red hands that were holding a braided rope that was made of fabrics, ribbons and a strip of a black animal pelt.  

“Frigg!  We bring to you a couple wishing to bind themselves together in life and beyond.”  She gestured to them to give her their hands.  They presented their entwined hands to her and she proceeded to bind their hands together.  She started what sounded like a prayer in their language and Bucky lowered his head.  Y/N followed quickly.  As the prayer continued Y/N felt her power flowing through her without thinking about it or calling upon it herself.  Her hands began glowing in the binding, and as the woman’s voice rose in volume the power seeped into Bucky’s hands.  He didn’t react at first until the power seemed to inject into the veins of his hand.  His eyebrows furrowed, then a low hiss passed through his teeth, and then he began to shiver as the green light zapped through him.  Y/N looked on in horror, trying to release his hands but unable to because of the binding.  She looked at the woman, who was still chanting, and then behind her to Winnifred, who just nodded at her with a serene look on her face.  Bucky shivered more violently then suddenly stopped, his body almost going rigid before a heavy sigh left his mouth.  The woman finished her prayer and did the motion in front of her face that Bucky and Winnifred had done in greeting before turning towards him.  

“Awaken, White Wolf,” the woman said quietly.  Bucky’s eyes opened and he blinked rapidly until his gaze met Y/N’s eyes.  She gasped upon seeing her power flash in his irises before it disappeared.  “You now share the power of Freya, Jarl.  She has bestowed her gift through her daughter to you.  Your children, their children, and their children and so on will carry this power, this gift, this responsibility.  Treat it well and with respect, else it will be taken from you and lost forever to the land and its people.  May it bless your lives together.”  She reared back and let out what almost sounded like a howl.  The people around them all did the same.

“Frigg and Freya bless this union happily.  You may seal this marriage with a kiss.”

Bucky still looked shocked at what had just happened but smiled as he leaned down to Y/N.  He pressed his lips to hers as they shared their first kiss.  The people around them cheered, and yet Y/N couldn’t hear them.  She was too entranced by his lips, the softness, the tenderness, but most of all the fire it ignited deep within her.  A rush of their now combined power flowed through them and melted into the ground below them, creating another whistling wind that sounded like laughter and a rumble in the earth that sounded like a hum of acceptance.

He pulled away and grinned widely at her.  The woman untied their hands and Y/N immediately brought her hands to his face.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t mean to hurt you–”

“I’m fine, my Drottning,” he kissed her nose.  “I feel…reborn.”  Y/N huffed out a laugh as she scratched his beard, the worry still etched on her face.  “Now we celebrate, Asynja,” he pulled her along to one of the seating areas and pulled her into his lap.

The night was filled with songs and dances and performances.  There were even fights, with the people making bets on who would win.  Mead flowed heavily and food was shared as the night drew on.  Y/N was approached by many of the people, some of them just to say hello, others to bless her and Bucky, and others who asked for blessings from her to their children.  Y/N didn’t know what to say, and yet each time something deep inside her seemed to take over and the words just spilled from her mouth.  After hours deep into the night Winnifred stepped forward.

“It is time for the union to be completed,” she motioned to Bucky and Y/N to follow her.  There were some “oohs” and “aahs” and whistles heard through the crowd as Bucky excitedly pulled Y/N out of the clearing and back towards the temple.  Once they’d reached it the women who had bathed Y/N before opened the doors for them.  A large bed had appeared in the temple where benches and tables had once been.  Y/N tensed as she knew what was to come next.  “Here I leave you.  Congratulations my dear Bucky,” she took his face in her hands again, giving his cheeks a pinch, “and welcome to the family, Y/N Astrid,” she walked up to Y/N and pressed her forehead against Y/N’s forehead.  She gave them one final head bow then retreated back towards the clearing.  

Bucky pulled Y/N into the temple and the doors were closed behind them.  Y/N was still tense as she stared at the bed.  The temple was warm, making her start to sweat under the fox fur she wore, but she was afraid to make the first move and take anything off.  She knew what the wedding night entailed, how it was done, but had never done it before herself.  It was a strict rule that an English princess was to be untouched by anyone until her wedding night with her new husband.  Y/N didn’t know if the Danes had different traditions.

“You look afraid,” Bucky observed. 

“That’s because I am,” Y/N answered quietly.

“So it’s true?  The English don’t let their royals do anything until marriage?”

“Yes,” Y/N glanced at him, surprised.  “At least, they try.  Have you done this before?”

Bucky shook his head.  “No, but not because I wasn’t supposed to.  Just because, well, war,” he said somberly.  “Never got the chance.  Or found someone I’d be willing to be with.” Y/N nodded, her eyes flitting around the room.  Her breathing became heavier as her nervousness gripped her heart.  “Hey,” he stepped in front of her.  “It’s going to be fine.  We will learn.  Together.”

Y/N nodded again as she tried to slow her breathing.  Bucky pulled her chin up with his finger so she would look at him.  He leaned his face down to her and brushed his lips down her cheek leaving a wake of small kisses across her nose to the other cheek, and then hovered above her lips.  Y/N’s eyes fluttered as she watched him, her eyes flicking back and forth from his eyes to his lips.  He pressed his lips against hers like he had for their first kiss, then angled his head to deepen it, pressing more firmly against her mouth.  The fire deep within her was ignited once again as his lips moved against hers.  Her hands gripped his shirt as his arms wrapped around behind her and pulled her flush to his body.  

Bucky walked backwards with her until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.  He slid his fur off and then broke the kiss and sat.  His hands slid from her face to her shoulders and unhooked the fox fur off of her, then slid behind her and untied the back of her dress.  It loosened around her and she let it slide down her body.  She wore an almost sheer underdress and some underwear underneath it.  Bucky pulled her underwear down and helped her pull the underdress over her head until she was left bare before him.  Y/N instinctively started to cover her breasts with her arms, her legs trying to cross to cover her most private parts, but he held her still.  “You’re beautiful, Y/N, don’t hide from me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her stomach then dragged his lips across her skin to the underside of her left breast.  He kissed it, making her shiver, then licked his way to her nipple, giving it a soft lick and then sucking it into his mouth.  Y/N’s hands shook as they laced behind his head, holding him against her as he nipped lightly at her skin.  His hand went to her other breast and massaged it, his fingers rubbing her other nipple.  

Y/N’s knees felt like they were about to give out from the pleasure she felt at just his mouth and fingers on her.  She gasped as he switched breasts, his mouth now laving at the opposite nipple.  He let out small whimpers as he sucked and licked her, his breathing becoming faster.  Y/N moaned at a particularly hard suck, her head falling back.  Bucky’s metal hand slid down in between her legs, his fingers rubbing her lower lips until he found the little spot that had her nearly buckling against him.  The metal against her skin felt glorious.  His mouth let her breast go with a pop and he stood.

He turned and pushed Y/N onto the bed and motioned for her to scoot up as he kicked off his boots.  He pulled his shirt, pants and underwear off and stood before her.  Y/N’s heart rate jumped as she looked at him.  The contrast of his metal arm against his skin was tantalizing, but she was shocked by the amount of markings he had on his body hidden under his clothes.  A tapestry of animals and runes littered his torso and his right arm.  As her gaze wandered down she audibly gulped.  This man was huge in every way.  Her widened eyes made him laugh.  “It will be alright, Drottning,” he said as he crawled onto the bed.  “I will get you ready for me.”  He laid on his front and hooked his arms around her legs, pulling her body towards him so that her core was in front of his face.  She tensed, not knowing what he was doing.  He felt her hesitation and smiled up at her.  “I’ve been told that this helps.  You’ll like it, I promise,” he winked at her.  Y/N nodded.  He kissed her thigh and then dipped his head down.  She wasn’t sure what to expect until she felt his tongue lick her slit and she gasped loudly.  He licked her lower lips languidly then would dip further into her and flick at her entrance.  He moved upwards and found that spot again, flicking his tongue quickly on it.  Y/N’s back arched, her hips trying to twist out of his iron grip, not because it was painful but because it almost felt too good.

“Bucky…” Y/N moaned, her hands pulling at his hair.  It only spurred him on, a deep hum from his mouth vibrating into her pussy, making her squeal.  He sucked on the spot and unlooped his flesh arm from her hip.  She felt one of his fingers start to prod at her entrance that was quickly getting wetter by the second.  He slipped his finger in then thrust it in and out slowly.  Y/N felt a tension deep in her gut start building.  He slipped another finger into her, stretching her as he thrust them in and out, picking up in speed as his lips sucked her spot into his mouth.  The tension was making her see stars, her legs trying to clamp shut around his head.  He then sped his fingers up again and started flicking the spot harshly with his tongue.  Y/N moaned loudly as the sensations all became too much and she felt the tension snap inside her.  She felt a gush come from her by Bucky’s mouth as she nearly ripped at his hair.  Her legs shook uncontrollably and her hips bucked violently.  The feeling started to ebb away and Bucky pulled his fingers out of her, licking some of the liquid that came from her before pulling himself up.

“Taste so good, my Drottning,” he said in a husky whisper.  He lifted his wet fingers to her mouth.  She opened her mouth instinctively and he put them in, making her taste herself.  She moaned a little at the taste as she tried to breathe normally again.

Bucky’s fingers retreated and he put them in his own mouth, licking up anything left she didn’t get.  He spread her legs further apart and settled between them, his hips inching closer to hers.  Y/N tensed again, knowing what he was about to do.  “I don’t think it will…” she started, then shut her mouth.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing her again.  “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N hesitantly nodded.  Bucky took his stiff cock in his hand and pumped it a few times, making himself moan, then lined it up with her pussy.  The head of it slowly pushed into her, making both of them groan.  Y/N tried to relax but felt herself tensing at the intrusion.  Bucky stopped and began sucking at her breasts again, distracting from the pain and pressure.  As he worked her into another pleasurable frenzy he would slowly inch forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  Y/N appreciated him going slow, letting her adjust to him, and when he was all the way in she sighed.

“It feels…so full…” Y/N said dreamily.  The fullness was making her feel delirious, like she had been missing something she didn’t know was a possibility.  If it always felt this good she wanted him inside at all times.

“So tight, Asynja.  Ah,” he gasped as her pussy fluttered around him.  “Gods, you feel so good…so right,” Bucky slowly pulled back then pushed forwards, letting her feel every part of him.  Her hips trembled again, her legs wrapping around his hips as he continued to thrust in and out of her.  She looked down at where they were joined, watching him move in and out of her, the sight making her whine deep in her throat.  Bucky moaned at the noise she made, pulling her head up with his hand and kissing her passionately.  As their tongues entangled his hips started moving faster, making her gasp against his mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head.  “Feel good, my Drottning?  You beautiful, powerful, strong woman…destined for me,” he whispered against her ear as his head dropped into the crook of her neck.  He thrust harder into her, making her fingers dig into his back.  “Mine,” he nearly growled as his hips rolled.  

Y/N felt a heady drunkenness setting into her mind, her head feeling foggy as the pleasure took over all of her senses.  She felt herself nodding as he claimed her.  “Yours,” she babbled,  whimpering with each hard thrust as the tension built again deep in her core.  “Your Drottning…your Asynja…my Bucky…”  Bucky suddenly hauled himself up, holding her against him so that he was thrusting up into her.  The angle made her yelp as he felt even deeper than before.

“That’s right, you're mine…I’m yours…Y/N Astrid, my star,” he pulled her down onto him as he thrust upwards.

The snap was unexpected and even more tightly wound this time, so much so that when Y/N screamed his name it reverberated through the temple.  She clung to him as her entire body tensed and she gushed around him.  Her pussy squeezed him like a vice and he shouted as he finished inside of her.  Y/N could feel him filling her up and it prolonged her shaking around him as she whimpered with each shock she felt spread from her pussy.  Bucky fell to the bed, stopping himself from crushing her at the last second.  They lay together, sweaty and exhausted as they came down from the high.  

Bucky turned his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek softly.  She smiled, her tired eyes blinking slowly at him as he rubbed his nose against hers.  “I think we’re pretty good at this,” he huffed out a laugh.  Y/N giggled, then groaned as Bucky slid his cock out of her, making him hiss.  He lay next to her as they both stared up at the ceiling.  Y/N felt around for his hand and laced her fingers in his.  Bucky smiled widely at the gesture.

Just as Y/N was on the brink of falling asleep she felt a fur being draped over her and a kiss to her forehead.  She smiled dreamily and snuggled close to Bucky’s warmth.  She had done it.  Married the supposed enemy, created an alliance that brought peace to his and her people, and found a new home that was accepting of her and the magic she possessed.  She missed Alfie terribly, but hoped that in due time, if her ability had shown her correctly, he would be alright and become the great king he was destined to be.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

[sizzlingcandyjellyfishhhhhh]

I kinda want to make a garland with dried citrus fruit slices… I saw a pic of one on twitter and now I want to make one

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Veggies and Fruits: Cranberries

Cranberry (Vaccinium Macrocarpon)

*Kitchen *Medical *Feminine

Folks Names: Bog fruit, Marshworts

Planet: Mars

Element: Water (juice), Fire (berry)

Deities: Astarte, Marjatta,

Abilities: Healing, Protection, Love, Lust, Positive Energy, Courage, Passion, Action

Characteristics: Native to Eastern North America and northern Asia. Small, slender, evergreen shrub growing to 1 ft with oval, dark green leaves, pink flowers and round/slightly pear-shaped red berries.

History: This jewel-toned gem of the bog is native to North America and a traditional food from Samhain through Yule. Its association with the American Thanksgiving meal is long rooted in tradition, but there is no historical evidence proving it was actually served at that first Thanksgiving celebrated by the Pilgrims. Despite this, cranberry something or other is commonly found on Thanksgiving and Christmas feast tables all across the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. Cranberry garlands made by stringing hundreds of the hard round red berries with a needle onto a long sturdy string is a traditional Christmas decoration. It is believed that cranberries got their name due to cranes always eating them and the blossoms of the berries look like the head of cranes. It is considered a sacred fruit in some indigenous circles such as Algonquian and Iroquois.

How to Grow:

Easy to Plant: Relatively

Rating: Moderate

Seeds accessible: Sometimes seasonal

How to Plant Cranberries

Video Guide

Where to Buy Seeds

Magical Properties

Can be used as a substitute for wine

Dried cranberries can be used in a charm to honor the wisdom of elders or as an offering to ancestors

It’s bright color signals energy, passion, courage, rejuvenation and rebirth

Can lend abundance, love and healing in kitchen spells

Since they are from the bog, it said to be feared by evil spirits and can offer protection

Placing a bowl of cranberries under one’s bed can restore depleted energy and cure an illness

Drinking the juice with your partner on a dark moon can keep your relationship free of trouble and continue to go strong

Can help link wisdom and guidance of ancestors

Can be utilized in energy cleansing rituals to remove negative energies from the aura

Is said to restore chakra alignment balance and create harmony

Burning bundles of cranberry stems can purify the energy of space and promote spiritual well-being during rituals and meditating

Medical Usage:

A classic remedy for urinary tract infections and can prevent and treat problems such as cystitis and urethritis

Can help to disinfect the urinary tubules and may be taken for problems associated with poor urinary flow such as enlarged prostate and blade infections

Can be used long term to prevent the development of urinary stones

Research in 1994 showed that cranberry juice helped really well with UTIs in women

Sources

[meadowlarkx]

Body and Spirit

Fic/Elven food writing on pregnancy for @tolkienekphrasisweek day 2: Culinary Arts, for the theme of "bread and roses." | AO3

From the writings of an unknown Elf-scholar of the First Age, found in the ruins of Vinyamar before Beleriand’s sinking; now housed in Rivendell.

Rightly has it been written that the bearing of children takes great share and strength of one’s being. It is the duty of each faithful spouse to attend their partner carefully in this time and wait upon their needs. So the proverbs run “thou worriest like a first-time father” and “when the husband’s belly is full, the wife’s hands are never empty.” And any healer will attest that food nourishes the spirit of parent and child both, if it is prepared correctly.

In days of old, parents could rest easier: it was peacetime, and labor was effortful but always painless. Dim eyes were soon brightened by the new child’s squalling, and child and bearer both were anointed with Laurelin’s dew and garlanded with Telperion’s blooms as safeguards against dark dreaming. It is true also that Yavanna and Oromë never let expecting parents go wanting, sending servants to each threshold with fruits of field, orchard, and wood that sated more than any other. If even then Míriel’s spirit was spent and spouses fretted, how much more do they fret now, and with better reason! Yet babes go on being born as if in spite of the shadow.

Our souls are fashioned such that the mind of one spouse draws very near to the mind of the other and each knows always (if things are aright) the contemplations of the other’s inmost heart, and this is to great advantage in childbearing just as it is in child-begetting. It makes easy and unburdensome those urgent cravings that may strike one with child. Indeed a husband often knows before his wife does what it is she wishes to eat or drink, and the best spouses are ever at the elbow of their partner with this or that delicacy. My own wife once had such a wish for pickled radishes that our garden’s were finished in one Mingling, and all of the neighbors made gifts of theirs for our kitchen.

Of these desires some say that they foretell the tastes of the babe when it is grown, and others divine in them the babe’s impatience, laughter, worry, and so on. I will not here offer a full enumeration, for it seems to me each family speaks differently, and every parent is their own loremaster in this matter.

A few more words on the subject. Many have found certain cordials and tisanes soothing and strengthening for the spirit strained with child. A honeyed elderflower infusion refreshes the body, especially when chilled with ice. Dried mint, thyme, and ginger root steeped in hot water ease discomfort, and the fragrant steam brightens the spirit. As winters here bite so deeply, this last may be of most use. 

Begettings are most frequent in the Spring and thus Elves are often in childbed come Spring again. So I have striven to mark a calendar of the seasons, as well as those dishes once or now customary to be served for the health and joyful greeting of a new-growing babe and to honor and sustain the one with child. Though much is scarce, and certain plants cannot be found, new children are rare in these lands and the bearing of them is a hard thing, and a brave one. I ask readers to use every store at their disposal to make it easy and happy. Where one thing cannot be found, another of similar savor can be used in its stead.

Spring (begetting)

It is still a tradition among our people to celebrate with feasting when the child’s spirit is first felt, even if, as it may be now, only the wedded pair themselves are at the table. Sweet and savory dumplings are usually the centerpiece of this dinner. A simple dough of flour and water or egg will suffice to wrap them. Soft cheese well-salted and herbed with chopped ramp, garlic scapes, and violet leaves makes a good filling in this season. Preserved fruits and jams will suit as well.

Two things are essential in such a feast: a bowl of rich broth (each prepares it differently), to nourish the child, and a small dish of honey infused with violets, to welcome it with sweetness. Both are for the bearer of the child to drink entirely, or among the Sindar and Teleri, to be passed between both parents to the raucous encouragement of their family and friends. It is a remarkable and auspicious thing that the Elves of Middle-earth drink broth and honey to mark the time of begetting as we did in the West. Perhaps this has been our way since the days of the first awakening, though to uncover the truth of it would demand a keener mind than mine.

Summer

Summer is a time for sweets as the babe grows. The moment of quickening often occurs in late summer and may be celebrated as well. The following is the method for a cake preferred by the Vanyar that has since become popular among our people: Mix a light batter of flour, butter, egg, milk, and honey, perfumed with a spoonful of orange blossom water or rosewater, and some of the peel of a lemon; pour it into small round baking dishes that have been well oiled. Into each dish of batter, press the cut slices of exactly one peach or plum, arranged in a round to resemble the whole. (Persimmon and guava were also favored in Tirion, an you find them.) Bake in a quick oven until fragrant and golden, then cool and turn out. Scatter the tops of the cakes with rose petals.

Some among the Vanyar make a version of this sweet with a heavier dough, pressed thin and swaddled about whole fruits which are then baked so assembled. In both methods, the cakes, or depending upon whom you ask, the round fruits therein, are said to show the size of the babe at midsummer.

Autumn

The foods preferred in autumn during childbearing honor Elf and child while lending strength for the coming winter. One preparation that is very savory is to set a partridge or game hen in an artfully arranged “nest” of carrots, parsnips, slivers of apple and wild onion stalks, whichever of these are to hand, and to roast them all together until tender and browned so that the vegetables take in the bird’s juices. A lighter but very popular delicacy is that of strips of very thin dough twined into the shapes of nests or cradles. They are then filled with a mixture of stewed figs and blackberries, spiced with cardamom. The time spent upon winding such small baskets makes this task one best and most joyful shared among many hands with laughter and singing. It is ill fortune, however, if the Elf bearing the babe lays hand to such work, which ought to be done instead on their behalf.

Winter

Anyone will tell you that several foods for pregnant Elves are ever insisted upon by relatives and spouses in the cold of winter, and all the more in this land where cold numbs and freezes. One must be especially careful during this time. Yet some dishes are held to be particularly lucky or healthful. One adopted from the Falathrim is a clear stew of white fish and pickled salted greens, flecked with barley: it is oft prescribed and thought to ensure a good flow of milk after the birth, especially when tender crab’s meat is added. A porridge of as many different seeds as can be found (poppyseed, wheatberry, buckwheat, oat, walnut, and hazelnut are favorites) brings a life of plenty to the couple and the future babe. It is typically flavored with dried fruits and orange rind, and sweetened with honey.

In the past, the most devoted spouses sought fresh snows from the heights of holy Taniquetil to mix with cream, sugar, and vanilla seed. Such a simple iced confection is thought especially delectable for Elves bearing children, as it refreshes a strained body and delights the spirit. Here the winter season affords the best opportunity both to make and to relish it.

Spring (childbed)

Just as violet-steeped honey is drunk to celebrate conception, so it is again upon the table as the span of a year draws to a close and the time of childbed approaches. A draught of such honey stirred into clear springwater with crushed thyme is drunk by the Elf nearing childbed to make labor sweeter—all the more needful now that it brings such pain. Many favor also a round leavened bread of red winter wheat studded with seeds, said to be more strength-giving in the short term than lembas, and good for weariness before and after childbirth.

All must attentively wait upon the Elf who has recently undergone the trial of childbirth, providing comfort and celebration. A sweet soup of cloudy sea moss, dried fruit, and boiled dumplings filled with chopped nuts is customarily prepared by the family and specially offered to the Elf recovering abed. It is delicate and soothing to the stomach and marks something of the sweetness of this most joyous of times—before the great feasts of the child’s naming.

_____

Endnotes on AO3; say hi if you like!

[grimoiregradient]

A Month of Joy - December Spell A Day Challenge

This month, in addition to the usual open ended spell prompts, I've sprinkled in some holiday activities and given them a witchy twist. I hope you enjoy and if you participate, even for one or two days, please mention me or tag it #witchydecemberchallenge !

Day 1 | Spell | Ribbon

Day 2 | Potion | Ginger

Day 3 | Charm | Giving

Day 4 | Make a spell jar in an ornament to hang on your tree

Day 5 | Glamour | Mistletoe

Day 6 | Divination | Rest

Day 7 | Spell | Cranberry

Day 8 | Bath | Joy

Day 9 | Sigil | Snow Day

Day 10 | Collect sticks and make a wreath intended for protection

Day 11 | Spell | Tinsel

Day 12 | Hex | Ginger Bread Man

Day 13 | Sigil | Baking

Day 14 | Potion | Mint

Day 15 | Bath | Hot Cocoa

Day 16 | Make paper snowflakes using color magic and numerology

Day 17 | Glamour | Peace

Day 18 | Add jingle bells to your door to cleanse your home

Day 19 | Divination | Naught/Nice

Day 20 | Make a garland using dried fruit and sigils of your choosing.

Day 21 | Spell | Knots

Day 22 | Create a good luck charm as a gift for someone

Day 23 | Spell | Candle

Day 24 | Sigil | Snowflake

Day 25 | Spell | Hearth

Day 26 | Make a simmer pot intended to cleanse your home

Day 27 | Kitchen | Cold

Day 28 | Ritual | Tea

Day 29 | Make a small besom/broom with cinnamon sticks to cleanse your altar

Day 30 | Divination | Resolution

Day 31 | Sigil | Firework

[cottonkhaleesi]

Going in for a “quick” drying session in the oven

Aaaand I forget time and again my oven doesn’t heat evenly. Ah well, I can still use these, at least I know they’re absolutely dry as a bone now!!

[vintagehomecollection]

The Floral Decorator, 1993

[thegodsaremyhome]

Anthesteria

History

Held annually in Anthesterion, Anthesteria was held in honor of Dionysus to celebrate the coming of spring and the maturing of the wine stored from the previous grape harvest. The festival was held from the 11th - 13th of Anthesteria, roughly the end of February. If you want to learn how to track the Ancient Athenian months, you can see this post I made about the Athenian Calendar! Or you could just see this calendar here, since it’s already being tracked for you. 

Anthesterion was a strange holiday, as it was a celebration of the coming spring as well as the dead. Though it’s uncertain whether the month was named after the holiday or vice versa, both derive their names from the Greek word Anthos, meaning flower.

On the first day, casks of wine from the last grape harvest were opened, now that they were finally matured. This day was called Pithoigia (meaning jar opening) after this act. On this day, libations from the wine were poured out for Dionysus. New Spring flowers were used to decorate homes, drinking vessels, and children above the age of three wore them as well.

The second day, Choes (meaning the pouring), as well as the first, were considered unlucky days, as it was believed that souls rose from the underworld on this day to roam the earth. Because of this, on Choes people chewed leaves of hawthorn or buckthorn and smeared their doors with tar to protect themselves and their homes. Some also poured out libations of the graves of loved ones. Despite this, celebrations continued. It was the day for merrymaking, featuring many drinking contests where even slaves and children participated. 

The third day, Chytroi (meaning pots) was a day exclusively dedicated to the dead. Pots of bran or seed were offered to the wandering souls, and fruit or cooked pulse(basically dried legumes) was offered to Hermes Chthonios. No one was permitted to taste these offerings. Souls were then asked to return to the underworld. This was most likely the reason why offerings were given to Hermes as well, as he was the one who led souls to the underworld.

Games were also held on the final day and, although no plays were permitted to be held, there was a rehearsal held for an upcoming drama festival.

Modern Practice

As mentioned above, Anthesteria is in large part, a time to celebrate the new batch of freshly matured wine. Thusly, drinking wine is an obvious choice. To stay authentic, or if you simply don’t want to drink very much, the Ancient Greeks drank their wine watered down. You obviously don’t have to do this, though.

What’s most interesting about this festival is it’s combination of both the welcoming of spring, and life, and the inclusion of the dead. Thus, this holiday could be seen as both a spring celebration, like Ostara or a spring Equinox celebration, as well as a sort of Hellenic Halloween/Samhain/etc. Because of this, I also included Persephone in my Anthesteria this year. 

Typically on the spring equinox, I pick flowers and offer them to Persephone. I also did this for Dionysus on Anthesteria, so to kill two birds with one stone, I offered them both flowers after asking permission from Dionysus to do so. He seemed happy to share the offering, as did Persephone.

As for other options, you could have a feast or a potluck, recite hymns to Dionysus, Hermes, and Persephone if you chose to include Her, make garlands,and making panspermia* as an offering to the dead and to Hermes, pour libations of wine for Dionysus, do a full cleansing of your home or altar, and honor passed on loved ones or ancestors. 

Sources

Anthesteria - Britanica Anthesteria - Wikipedia *Panspermia recipie - Hellenion

(Sorry I wasn’t able to get this out on time, but hopefully it’ll be useful for next year!)

[animalcrossingshowdown]

Furniture items and sets round 1 results:

Items:

Froggy chair 90.6% / Leo sculpture 9.4%

Mush lamp 83.9% / Cancer table 16.1%

Mom's homemade cake 77.9% / Skull rug 22.1%

Afternoon-tea set 76.4% / My Melody clock 23.6%

Star clock 75.2% / Anatomical model 24.8%

Lily record player 74.7% / Scattered papers 25.3%

Dried-flower garland 72.6% / Rose bed 27.4%

Virgo harp 70.2% / Rescue mannequin 29.8%

Wooden music box 70.1% / Bathtub with yuzu 29.9%

Snail clock 69.1% / Imperial dining table 30.9%

Spooky cookies 67.8% / ACNH Nintendo Switch 32.2%

Plain party-lights arch 67% / Cinnamoroll sofa 33%

Moon 67% / Hyacinth lamp 33%

Greenhouse box 66.4% / Soft-serve lamp 33.6%

Dreamy rabbit toy 66% / Elephant slide 34%

Crescent-moon chair 65.2% / Retro stereo 34.8%

Toy duck 65% / Lovely phone 35%

Dreamy wall rack 61.7% / Throwback skull radio 38.3%

Lucky cat 59.2% / Decayed tree 40.8%

Tiny library 59.2% / Kerokerokeroppi bridge 40.8%

Fortune-telling set 59.2% / Cucumber horse 40.8%

Resetti model 58.5% / Titan arum 41.5%

Wheat field 55.1% / Zodiac dragon figurine

Paper tiger 54.5% / Colorful juice 45.5%

Cherry-blossom pond stone 54.4% / Rocket lamp 45.6%

Hamster cage 53.5% / Monster statue 46.5%

Starry garland 53.3% / Bonsai shelf 46.7%

Balloon-dog lamp 52.2% / Eggplant cow 47.8%

Creepy skeleton 52.2% / Elaborate kimono stand 47.8%

Mom's plushie 52% / Pergola 48%

Peach chair 51.1% / Dessert case 48.9%

Rattan towel basket 50.9% / Cherry-blossom branches 49.1%

1 ) I can't believe you guys voted out lovely phone, the entire reason I'm adding functions to these posts, in round 1

2 ) I can't believe you guys voted out cherry-blossom branches, the item that was positioned as second most likely to win based on number of submissions, in round 1

Sets:

Spooky 89.1% / Throwback 10.9%

Motherly 84.9% / Kiddie 15.1%

Shell 83.1% / Chess 16.9%

Sloppy (classic) 83.1% / Sloppy (ACNH) 16.9%

Rococo 81.6% / Elegant 18.4%

Insect 81.4% / Mario 18.6%

Glowing moss 78.2% / Ruined 21.8%

Mermaid 77.6% / Harvest 22.4%

Cute 76.3% / Lovely 23.7%

Modern 71.9% / Construction 28.1%

Ironwood 71.5% / Hello Kitty 28.5%

Fish 71.5% / Plaza 28.5%

Sweets 70.6% / My Melody 29.4%

Alpine 70.2% / Nordic 29.8%

Stars 69.6% / Gorgeous 30.4%

Cherry blossoms 68.5% / Blue 31.5%

Rattan 67.1% / Astro 32.9%

Flower 66.7% / Diner 33.3%

Fruit (ACNH) 66.7% / Fruit (classic) 33.3%

Antique 65.6% / Classic 34.4%

Modern wood 62.7% / Green 37.3%

Log 62.6% / Cabin 37.4%

Princess 62.6% / Card 37.4%

House plants 61.5% / Kerokerokeroppi 38.5%

Ranch (ACNH) 60.7% / Ranch (classic) 39.3%

Dreamy 58.3% / Wedding 41.7%

Mush (classic) 55.1% / Mush (ACNH) 44.9%

Patchwork (classic) 54.6% / Patchwork (ACNH) 45.4%

Kiki & Lala 53.9% / Moroccan 46.1%

Regal 51.2% / Cinnamoroll 48.8%

Robo 51% / Cardboard 49%

Gracie 50.6% / Imperial 49.4%

As you can see I've colour coded the sets by game. NL is pink, NH is blue, and sets that didn't really change between games are purple.

For the redesign matches, it was an even split between NH and NL. out of 10 redesign matches, they each won 5.

It's easier for me if all the new polls post in a row with no gaps between, so round 2 will start in a few days to give the hourly tournament a chance to catch up! This should be the only round where I have to do that.

[breelandwalker]

Cold Moon - December 26, 2023

Bundle up, witches! It's time for the Cold Moon!

Cold Moon

The Cold Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of December, particularly appropriate this year as the full moon will occur late in the month, smack in the middle of the bleak midwinter.

This will be another month when the moon appears full for two nights in a row, so we'll have a full moon for Christmastime, with peak illumination on Dec 26th at 7:33pm EST. (A perfect aesthetic for those who are fans of the classic poem "A Visit From St Nicholas" aka "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Personally, I'm holding out hope that we'll have the snowy conditions to match, though it's a long shot.)

Like most full moon names, the Cold Moon takes its' moniker from an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups. There are a number of indigenous names that reference the wintry conditions when this moon occurs, including Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee), Winter Moon (Tunica-Biloxi), Hoar Frost Moon (Cree), and Long Night Moon (Mohican). More evocative names include Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree) and Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala), both of which refer to a phenomenon which occurs during extreme cold, when the sap inside a tree freezes and the expanding pressure causes portions of the bark or even entire limbs to "pop" with loud cracking sounds that can be heard for miles.

Other names for the December moon include Yule Moon (Norse origins), Oak Moon (Celtic origins), and Bitter Moon (Chinese origins).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The year is winding down. It's time to wrap up our projects and put aside what we haven't finished or no longer need. Rather than berating ourselves for the things we didn't finish or didn't accomplish, this is a time to give ourselves some grace and celebrate our successes and triumphs and the things we DID accomplish.

With only one page left on the calendar, many of us are already looking ahead to the new year, making plans and setting goals. This is a good time to brainstorm and engage in a bit of broad-view planning. Sketch out the things you'd like to see or do or try in the new year. Give voice to your dreams and start thinking of ways to make them happen.

The Cold Moon also falls soon after the winter solstice this year (Dec 21), which could be a boon for anyone looking to time their seasonal rituals in optimal fashion. A working could be begun on the solstice and built up to culminate on the night of the Cold Moon, just before the start of a new calendar year.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Have a small supper gathering with friends or family (holiday themed or not, it's up to you) to share joys and fellowship and enjoy good food and drink. Make wishes together for the new year. (Wish jars can be done individually or as an informal group ritual. Sharing wishes anonymously can be a fun party game.) A "White Elephant" gift exchange with inexpensive or homemade witchy goods for your circle could be fun too!

Make a wish jar for the new year on the winter solstice and put it out to charge under the Cold Moon. Cleanse any of your tools or crystals or accoutrements that you use moonlight for one more time this year.

This is the perfect time for divinations and goalsetting for the coming year. Pull out your favorite divination tools and your 2024 planner and sketch out the coming year. You can also try candle wax divination with holiday candles, if that's something that interests you.

Also, save those seasonal bayberry candles for future use! They're great for debt repayment and money-drawing spells.

If you need some ideas for a fun family activity, you can feed the birds for good luck, either with scattered birdseed or pinecone birdfeeders. String dried fruit slices, cinnamon sticks, pinecones, holly leaves and berries, and other seasonal faves to make garlands. Stick apples or oranges or clementines full of cloves in pretty patterns to make pomanders.

Use those fibre arts skills to create a special piece to keep your home warm and safe and well-supplied until spring. It doesn't have to be anything big - a simple weaving or single square will do. Crochet or cut out snowflakes for your home decor. If you want to get fancy, pick up a ball of cotton warp thread and look for old doily patterns - they look great as hoop weavings hung on the wall (or make a witch web in winter colors).

Make one more batch of moonwater to carry you through to the new year. If it happens to snow or freeze where you live, you can save clean snow or icicles for special (non-drinkable) elemental water, which can be a fun base for moonwater as well.

And speaking of elements, make sure to remember in all your seasonal decorating that fire safety is paramount. Be careful with your candles, warmers, light strings, plugs, extension cords, and cables. DO NOT "daisy chain" your extension cords or power strips. Never leave candles or wax warmers or simmer pots unattended, and turn off your holiday lights before bedtime. Safety first, witches!

Thanks for joining me for this exploration of full moon magic. See you next year!

Happy Cold Moon, witches! 🌕🧊

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Moon Rise Calculator - The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Cold Moon: Full Moon in December 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Full Moon December 2023: Illuminating the Cold Moon's Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

How Do Trees Survive The Winter?, National Forest Foundation.

How to Make Pomander Balls, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Fun Kid's Activity: Winter Pinecone Bird Feeder, Audubon Southwest.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

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