#countdown to Christmas Day 12

[imaginedreamwrite]

Cop!Andy takes future Mrs barber to a local Christmas festival, this time finally not dressed as elf

His appearance surprises you, so much so that you almost blister past him before you turn around and spy him waiting for you at the entrance gate. He’s waiting for you with a coy smirk on his face and his ocean blue eyes glinting with amusement.

Instead of a red and green elf costume or the police uniform you’d seen him in before, Andy Barber is wearing a thick flannel with a grey shirt and fake wash jeans that make his legs look miles long. His beard is freshly trimmed and only pieces of his hair is visible beneath his black toque.

“Andy.” You speak his name with a slight spike to the end, clearly surprised by him.

“Almost blew right past me, Mrs. Barber.” He continued the tease and struts, naturally struts, toward you. “Are you playing hard to get sweetheart? Or did you not recognize me?”

“I was expecting to see you in a costume. Ya know I was partial to the ears.” You retort and feel your breath constricting in your throat because he has no right to be that beautiful.

“Not today, missus.” He steps in line with you and brushes the outside of his hand against yours before he finally grasps it. “You look beautiful, honey.”

You’re not wearing anything special, not like some of the women who comes to these things with sleek winter sweater dresses or tiny skirts and act like they’re not cold. You know they probably feel confident because they obviously look good but you have to wonder if they actually feel good.

It wasn’t as if Boston was some hotspot in Winter, weather and temperature wise, it was still afflicted by storms.

Instead of dressed up, you chose something simple. You are wearing a pair of thick fleece lined leggings and a university hoodie, a men’s style that you got big on ourptose.

“That flannel looks comfortable. I’m gonna steal it.” You’re bold with your statement, hoping you can throw him off but instead he raises an eyebrow and his smirk widens.

“Do you like me putting you in cuffs that badly, Mrs. Barber?” Andy coos, seductively, and you shiver in response.

“Chippendales wanna be…” you mutter, his hand tightening on yours as a large group passes and you feel yourself haphazardly getting tossed around.

You note that in grabbing your hand he’s saving you from being thrown into a safety barrier, and your natural response was to step closer to him.

“What would you like to do first, Mrs. Barber?” Andy looks down at you as things calm, his eyes searching yours. “Apart from the obvious don’t break the law-“

“You take the fun out of everything.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, only momentarily, before you caught the sight of an outdoor rink.

“How good of a skater are you?” You begin walking toward the arena and the skate rentals, Andy following behind.

“We’re gonna find out, jailbird.”

[verba-amoris]

So good Santa came twice 😜🎅🎄

[jqmunson]

Eddie the Christmas reindeer

🦌🎄 ❄️

JQMunson's 12 days till Eds-Mas

(4/12)

[floridaboiler]

[classicwhatthefuckplotline]

watching nate in ted lasso is so surreal when you’ve originally known nick mohammed as the guy who did bits on 8 out of 10 cats does countdown. like what do you mean the same guy who’s on a redemption arc after betraying richmond fc is the same guy who made up lyrics to the jurassic park theme song????

[boinin]

A family tradition of mine

If you have five minutes to kill, this should give you a laugh.

My mom plays it every year when she's putting up the tree, wouldn't be Christmas without hearing it. It's performed by an Irish comedian, Frank Kelly, who's best known for playing this guy:

Absolute legend. Anyway, this never fails to crack me up. Happy Christmas people on my phone, hope it's a good one for ye 🎅

[jokerislandgirl32]

On The Twelfth Day of Zachmas…

On the twelfth day of Christmas my Zachy gave to me … twelve failed schemes, eleven Zachbots, ten whiny screams, nine new inventions, eight hair gels, seven black sweaters, six evil laughs…five Wild Rats! Four conference calls, three tether beams, two spybots, and an underwater submarine!

And that’s all my dear mutuals! I hope you enjoyed the 12 Days of Zachmas! I loved making this, and I may just post me singing the song at some point. You can find the rest of these posts at #12 days of zachmas

[elloras]

12 days for me until Brett’s show!

[seawolvesanddragons]

Anne With An E 12 Days of Christmas Countdown

1. Amortentia

(Note - this is a missing scene from a AWAE/Harry Potter au completed fic of mine on AO3)

“Amortentia,” Professor Allen intoned, “is one of the most difficult potions to brew. Even very few of my seventh year NEWT students manage to properly brew one successfully each year. Perhaps a blessing - we hardly need children mucking about with love potions.” 

There were a few scoffs at that from Anne’s classmates - though whether that was doubt that the seventh years were incapable, or at Allen calling them all children, Anne wasn’t sure. Ruby alone looked unaffected - though that could be because she was staring starry eyed at the potion. No matter how old they got, Ruby’s romantic nature never truly changed. 

“Today, since it is your first time learning about amortentia, we are beginning simply with observing it and examining the base ingredients. Next week you will be completing the potion’s from its final stage. If you manage to do it correctly, your potion should look like this,” Allen gestured to the wide cauldron in the center of the classroom. 

“I highly recommend you write this next part down,” Allen said and there was a scramble as several of the students dove for their quills. Anne and Diana, who had pulled their quills out at the start of class (Anne, in fact, had already begun writing notes) shared an amused glance. At the table next to them, Gilbert, quill also at the ready,  was shaking his head fondly at Jerry, who had nearly fallen off his stool. He caught Anne watching and shook his head at the Hufflepuff, in a “what can you do,” type of way. Anne grinned back. 

“Amortentia is easily recognizable by its pearly sheen and distinct vapor movement - see how it rises in spirals? Beware of a potion with these traits as much as you would be wary of one that looks almost like this - the only thing worse than a love potion made well is a love potion made poorly,” Allen warned. 

“Speaking from experience?” Josie muttered under her breath across from them. Anne bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. 

“The most interesting symptom of the potion is its smell,” Allen continued. “It’s different for everyone, as the potion replicates the scents that remind you of things you like. One might smell a favorite homemade treat, or location. Take a moment to reflect on what you smell. Write down everything you observe on the potion and hypothesize its ingredients - it should take at least six inches. Begin.” 

Allen’s lecture stopped abruptly, the potions master suddenly vanishing behind a stack of what Anne suspected were ungraded essays. 

For the next moment the classroom was filled with odd hissing noises as everyone kept taking dramatic breaths. 

“What do you smell?” Anne asked Diana, kicking her leg against the stool. She had already finished writing down everything she could observe. 

“Freshly cut roses, something...woody? Spicy?” Diana wrinkled her brow. “I can’t place it.” 

“The forest, maybe? Or the greenhouses?” Anne suggested. Diana shrugged. “Anything else?” 

“Broomstick polish,” Diana said, face falling slightly. Anne reached out and gripped her hand wordlessly. 

“I smell cinnamon, my mother’s perfume, and fresh ink,” Ruby chimed in, a besotted look on her face.

“What does Moody have to do with any of those?” Josie asked. Ruby blushed furiously. 

“What do you smell, Anne?” Ruby asked quickly, clearly hoping to move the situation along. 

“Marilla’s plum puffs, the smell of books, and,” Anne took another deep breath. “The forest.” 

“We match,” Jerry turned around. “I smelled Marilla’s plum puffs and the forest as well. Plus my broomstick polish.” 

Anne turned to Diana. “Diana, this is very serious. Professor Allen clearly brewed the potion wrong.” 

“Anne,” Diana shook her head, but Anne could see the corners of her mouth turn up. “It isn’t the end of the world to have similar interests as Jerry.” 

“At least he didn’t smell books as well,” Anne sighed dramatically. 

“Hey, that was one of Gilbert’s scents as well,” Jerry said happily. 

Gilbert started, only half paying attention to the conversation. “How did you know what? I never told you what I smelled.” 

“I can read it over your shoulder,” Jerry shrugged. “I was trying to see what you put down for the ingredients. You smelled books, Bash’s stew, and,” Jerry paused, turning his head to see better. “What’s that third one? An-” 

“You can copy my ingredient list,” Gilbert interrupted quickly, rolling up his scroll so only that section was open. “I don’t mind.” 

“You’re a saint,” Jerry grinned. 

“Gilbert, he’s never going to learn if you do it for him!” Anne scolded. “Honestly, why would you do such a thing?” 

Gilbert muttered something under his breath. Anne could only make out a few phrases - “self-preservation” and “win the family over.” 

Anne rolled her eyes. Honestly, Gilbert said the most nonsense things sometimes. 

***

(Potions, seventh year)

“You have the remaining double period to complete your amortentia potion,” Allen drawled. “Remember, if your potion starts turning any shade of green, back away and alert me immediately. Do not try to fix it yourselves.” He cast a quick look at Musa and Jerry, who had managed to blow up one cauldron and disintegrate another in the five weeks that Allen had partnered them up. Considering Musa was fairly adequate at potions and Jerry was brilliant at the herbology aspect, Anne wasn’t really sure what kept going wrong there. 

“Begin,” Allen said, and there was a flurry as the class started chopping and slicing. 

“Ready partner?” Gilbert grinned, nudging Anne’s elbow. 

“Mhm,” Anne nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The last few weeks of being potion partners with Gilbert had been bearable, if Anne had to pick a term. Any satisfaction of a well matched partner was instantly overtaken by the struggle of being in close proximity of Gilbert several times a week, which turned into fear she would let it affect her potion making. It never did, of course, which led right into satisfaction at a job well done, relief at having such a good potion partner, and then she was right back at the start of it all. 

Anne had weathered the course with maturity and positivity, in her opinion. But this? Brewing a love potion with Gilbert Blythe of all people? That was far too much. 

So began the longest two hours of Anne’s life. 

First, it was Gilbert’s hand brushing hers when he reached for the chopping knife. Then she was momentarily entranced with the way his curls fell into his eyes as he measured out ingredients. Worst was how solid he seemed next to her when they took turns stirring the potion, counting carefully, like he fit there somehow. 

Luckily for Anne, distraction came along in the last half hour to take her mind off of her predicament. 

They had brewed the potion wrong. 

“Are you sure we stirred it enough, Anne?” Gilbert asked, frowning. “Not that I doubt your potion brewing skills, but the smell is still off.” 

“I’m certain. But you’re right, we’re missing something,” Anne insisted. “Last time I could smell three things-” 

“Books, the forest, and plum puffs,” Gilbert nodded. “I remember. But you can’t smell them?” 

Anne paused, momentarily distracted. “You remember what I smelled?” 

“You and Jerry started arguing over it,” Gilbert shrugged. 

Anne decided the mature thing to do would be to ignore the funny feelings that were dancing around inside and move on. This was about learning. Her grade was on the line. 

“I can smell the plum puffs and the books, but the forest isn’t there - we must have messed up the measurement on something... ” Anne mused. “Are we sure we put enough wild pansy stems in there?” 

“We triple checked,” Gilbert shook his head frantically. “Do you smell anything else? Maybe there’s something that replaced the forest.” 

Anne wanted to argue that was simply impossible - she loved the forest, the home of some many adventures and wonders and friendships - but she stopped herself right in time. 

Gilbert wasn’t trying to be rude. He was just being logical, trying to think through why their potion would be wrong. 

“That’s...possible.” Anne allowed. “But I don’t smell anything else. Just books and plums. Nothing else. What about you?”

“The same issue,” Gilbert sighed. “Just the spices Bash uses and books. But if it isn’t the wild pansy’s-” Gilbert’s brow furrowed, deep in thought. “Let’s try-”

“Mr. Blythe, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” Allen interrupted, suddenly appearing beside them. “Step away from your cauldron please.” 

They obliged. Anne’s palms began to sweat as Allen peered over their amortentia. This was it - the end of her and Gilbert’s perfect streak. Perhaps they’d still get good marks, the sheen and consistency was right, after all, and the vapors were spiraling...

“Perfect,” Allen stated. “Again. Ten points each to Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Moving on - Miss Barry, Miss Gillis, your turn.” 

“I - how-” Anne whispered, glancing at Gilbert. “He didn’t notice?” 

“Guess we lucked out,” Gilbert said. “Thank Merlin. Though it’s going to bother me for ages, trying to figure out what we did wrong.”

“You and me both,” Anne said. “Come on, might as well begin cleaning up.”

Anne elected to put the leftover potion ingredients back in the cupboard while Gilbert scourgified their cutting knives. 

The cupboard was on the opposite side of the room, requiring Anne to pick her way carefully past both Diana and Ruby’s table as well as Cetus and Josie’s. The vapors from their cauldrons filled the air by the cupboard. 

At least one of them must have brewed their potion correctly - Anne caught a whiff of plum, the familiar scent of books - she inhaled deeply, wanting to linger on the scent. 

Wait - why had Gilbert followed her? 

Anne turned around, mouth already open to ask him, but he wasn’t there. Gilbert was still at their table, all the way on the other side of the classroom. 

So why had her brain thought he was right behind her? 

*

“That,” Jerry declared as he stormed out of potions, “was the worst one yet. Honestly, what was Allen thinking.” 

“It does bring a whole new level to the depths of denial,” Moody agreed. 

“I really thought this would be it,” Musa said. “They were brewing amortentia . How did it not come up?”

“They thought they brewed the potion wrong,” Diana said, still in disbelief. “They have a perfect streak in potions-”

“To all of our irritation,” Josie sniffed. 

“And each of them is aware of how they feel yet they still managed to think they brewed the potion wrong instead of it being an issue that they were already standing next to each other!” 

“I think I might hate them,” Cetus said solemnly. “Or Allen. I really, really do. Their fretting over a mistake that didn’t exist was so distracting I almost knocked over my cauldron.” 

“They thought they brewed the potion wrong, ” Diana repeated again. She looked close to tears. 

“Okay, let’s get Diana to the kitchens,” Ruby said gently. “I think she needs a nice cup of tea to calm down.” 

“Or something stronger,” Jerry muttered. 

“Jerry, no.” 

“I always knew it would be Anne that drove me to drink."

[corrinnecreates]

11 days until Christmas and here is my gift to you. 11 ties tied! Penelope looks great! What do you think?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRVxqFLH/

[irish-newzealand-idian-dutch]

[imaginedreamwrite]

Day 12 screams Silverfox!cowboy Curtis and wifeys first winter/ Christmas together. He takes her to town after she's pouty about the snow being there so long to show her the local Christmas festival and cheer her up

Christmas Countdown day 12 — attend a winter festival

“I can’t believe it’s still snowing.” He finds himself looking at you from the drivers seat after he parked, his smile meeting his eyes as he gazes at you and listens to you huff again. “I mean I knew it snowed in Montana, but….why so much?”

“Sunshine and sand,” Curtis grasped your hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of your knuckles, “you’re a California baby.”

“I really am.” You speak softly, your breath hitching in your throat and your eyes captivated by his. “I didn’t know it snowed for months and months on end.”

“From November to March, sometimes earlier and later.” Curtis had yanked his keys out of the ignition and set them in his pocket, zipping it closed before he even started to open the door. “Come on, snowbird. You’ll freeze sooner in here than out there.”

“Doubtful.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle to get a better look at the kind of things set up in town.

From the vehicle you could see the outdoor skating rink that already seemed packed, a few horse teams that were hooked up to wagons to take people on tours of the town, a few burn barrels with fires to keep people warm, and the quintessential Santa Clause photo booth. It was all part of the town’s lead up to Christmas, a festival meant to celebrate the winter months and give people an opportunity to get together in and outdoor setting.

“You’re freezing, sweetheart.” Curtis had yanked his own outer coat off to give it to you, securing it around yourself while you shuddered. “I know it seems impossible but you’ll get used to the Montana cold.”

“Will I? Will I actually or will i become a snowman and melt in the summer?” You drew yourself close to him, not a single protest when Curtis had kissed you silently and brushed his hands up and down your arms. “I think-‘

“Trust me, Mrs. Everett.” He grabbed your gloved hands in his and began leading you away from the truck. “You’re going to find your footing here, and I promised I would be able to keep you warm all winter and I mean that.”

“I know, I’m just grumpy.” You mumbled, walking side by side with him, shivering still despite the layers you wore. “I feel cold.”

“Would you like some tea or hot chocolate, sweetheart?” Curtis had stopped by a gate and placed a handful of bills into the donation bin, watching your eyes wander around the festivities.

“Tea, yes. tea is good. It’s hot.” You stepped in line with him once more, walking with him toward a little sidewalk, your stomach grumbling when the scent of honey glazed twists and cinnamon sugar had hit your nose. “And-“

“Something sweet, Mrs. Everett.” Curtis kissed you softly. “I know my wife well.”

[y0uc4n7kn0w]

Weebsmas Day 10 - How To Upgrade Your Weebsmas Tree (decorations)

On the 10th day of Weebsmas, Luna gave to me — ways to upgrade your Weebsmas tree (or decorations) First off–you have to admit: I’m getting better at making these openers rhyme. But of course, today’s post lends itself to the rhyming of me and tree–but that’s beside the point. While yesterday Star introduced you to even more terribly weeby ugly Christmas sweaters, today I’m going to give you…

[jqmunson]

Sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas, sweetheart.

Daddy will get you something real nice, I promise.

😏 🎄🎁

JQMunson's 12 days till Eds-Mas

(11/12)

[floridaboiler]

12 Days until Christmas

[conjcosby]

Stardate: 202312.13 ▫ Travel light, keep love and all your years and all your Christmases will be glorious. 😊🎄 #christmas #xmas #countdown #december #festive #season #yuletide #christmascountdown #xmascountdown #happy #happydecember #festiveseason #yuletideseason #christmas2023 #xmas2023 #december13 #december13th #12daystillchristmas #12daystilxmas #countingdowntochristmas #countingdowntoxmas #christmasmonth #xmasmonth #post #christmaspost #xmaspost #dailypost #postoftheday #potd #celebration