Welcome to the TADfam Winter Holidays 2023 Extravaganza! This year during the month of December we have decided to be spontaneously cosy and creative. Every day of December, if you’re so inclined, there will be a prompt you can follow. Of course we are a server full of boundless creativity and joy, so the prompts are merely a suggestion! We hope to make everyone’s month a little bit brighter and full of love!
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What to post? — Anything and everything! From a selfie with a cool look to a picture of your dog, a gorgeous poem, a song, an art piece, pottery, embroidery, fanfic, you name it!! Even a small gratitude for the day! Anything that will make our winter holidays slightly more seasonal is very much encouraged. The prompts are themed for the season, but you can always include nods to your favourite songs and band members.
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How to post? — You’re welcome to post things on social media! Include the hashtag #TADVENT2023 and tag the TADdiscord socials if you’d like them reshared.
Instagram: https://instagram.com/theamazingdevildiscord
Tumblr: https://theamazingdevildiscord.tumblr.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TADdiscord
If you’re posting in the server, simply drop your creation of choice in the appropriate discord thread located under #new-work-of-art: #"TADvent 2023 ☃" Please use the simple format below mentioning the TADvent day you’re posting, so we can look back on all the marvellous wonders!
**TADvent2023 — Day 1**
[Insert description of your submission here!]
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A big thanks to Cat for kickstarting this community idea — however big or small, we’re excited to see what everyone comes up with!
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*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥
˗ˏˋ A CHRISTMAS GIFT TO YOU ! ´ˎ˗
marlees christmas celly.
masterlist! 🎄 nav!
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ rules: all fandoms on my masterlist are open for this!! please send 1 request per ask and id really prefer if you only sent one of the events at a time until i’ve answered ur first ask (does this make sense) also if you plan to vent using the frosty the snowman event, i’d prefer if you dm’d me, because i’d rather listen to you privately than publish your vent for the world to see
❄️ PARADE OF THE WOODEN SOLDIERS — moodboards! sent me a character, prompt/scenario, and i’ll make you a mb!
❄️ THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY — matchups! send me a fandom, gender preference, and description of yourself if we aren’t close moots and i’ll give u a character + headcanons for ur relationship!
❄️ A CHRISTMAS CAROL — songs! send me this and i’ll tell u what christmas song reminds me of u! (moots only)
❄️ THE NUTCRACKER — tumblr games! cym, wyr, kmk, etc!
❄️ FROSTY THE SNOWMAN — talk to me! tell me anything you want! about ur life, hyperfixations, opinions, icks, likes and dislikes, your day, whatever! use this as like a journal if u want!
❄️ HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS — q&a! ask me anything you want and i’ll give u my honest opinion!
❄️ RUDOLPH THE REDNOSED REINDEER — gifts! tell me what you’d get me for christmas and i’ll tell you what i’d get you!
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Made this post and immediately wrote it into a short & sweet ficlet. Happy Holidays, Good Omens fandom! ☃ If you'd rather read it on ao3, the link is here. ❄️
Snowflakes and Starshine
"There's another one! Angel, look!"
Aziraphale smiled indulgently as he followed Crowley's finger. The demon had hooked his arm around Aziraphale's neck with the casual sort of intimacy you got from being hereditary enemies for 6000 years, and was smugly pointing with a flippant hand towards a very brightly gleaming, multi-colored, five-pointed star that was perched atop a sparkling Christmas tree in a window of a shop in Berkeley Square — which, given the prediction of later snow (not the usual London mush, but real snow), was quite deserted for once, people all over going home to their families.
But still, lights gleamed in the half-light of the evening, and the square was lit up by various holiday decorations, including the star that Crowley was so excitedly pointing to.
"My dear, I've said it many times, and I'll say it again, I really, really do not see how they are comparable to your stars," Aziraphale murmured, repeating a fond, familiar track of conversation that was really nothing but making conversation. "It's a caricature. Nothing like the beauty and . . . oh, the infinity of the real thing, captured in that silly piece of plastic."
"No, no, no, angel, you don't get it," Crowley argued lightly, humoring him as the two of them strolled past the store window. Aziraphale smiled a little as he caught their reflection; both of them were bundled up in winter clothing (Crowley especially), the demon's arm thrust around Aziraphale's shoulders in a picture of careless nonchalance, his glasses slipping down his nose to reveal the bright excitement in his eyes.
"It's the — eh, ngk, the symbolism — symbolism, s'that the right word? — of it all, y'know? Like — s'nice to see the appreciation for — for the stars. That silly piece of plastic, it . . . it means something to someone. 'Cause of me, 'cause of my stars." Crowley smiled, a beautiful, rare thing, like a flower blooming in the snow. He looked every inch the angel Aziraphale had known, and every inch the demon he knew, like the crashing of two nebulae coming together to form something beautiful.
"Stars are . . . they're . . ." Crowley, whose words had pulled Aziraphale from his quiet reverie, had begun to frown a little, his brow pinching, his nose scrunching up. Aziraphale swooped in to save him, placing his hand on Crowley's chest as they walked, smiling warmly at him to make up for the cold of winter that blistered around them.
"They're gorgeous."
"That's the word!" Crowley snapped his fingers, grinning broadly. He shrugged easily, bumping his shoulder against Aziraphale's, his dangling hand brushing Aziraphale's arm. "'Sides, you're one to talk about plastic caricatures, angel. I've never once seen an angel in anything humans've created, let alone holiday decor, that looks even a bit like you."
"No, no, we see them all the time!" Aziraphale protested. "Plenty of Renaissance painters captured me, dear, and I'm quite all over the Sistine, and besides, even here — oh, even right next door, the blonde one with the white wings in the tree in the record shop looked quite a bit like me!"
"Nahhh," Crowley insisted, rolling his eyes with vigor and scoffing under his breath. His nose wrinkled again, and Aziraphale was seized with the absurd notion to kiss him there. He refrained with dignity, though he did beam a little at the demon's next words.
"None of 'em compare, angel, not at all."
Aziraphale blushed, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He had grown quite fond of this little game of theirs that they had been 'competing' in ever since the people had begun to form the holiday traditions of their decorations; both the demon and the angel found Christmastime to be rather lovely, as well as the holiday season in general, of course (besides the cold, for Crowley, who always complained whenever they ventured outside, but still tagged along when Aziraphale went on walks such as this one), and had begun keeping track of how many star or angel decorations they saw, respectively. Whoever had the most by the end of the season got to slack off from Arrangement blessings and miracles for the spring. It was really just a thing for fun, though; neither really kept track. Besides, Aziraphale got plenty of a reward when he got to see Crowley look so happy.
Aziraphale loved watching Crowley light up as bright as the decorations themselves whenever he saw a star, even, as Aziraphale would call them, plastic caricatures that gleamed an annoying neon and blared Christmas carols from shoddy speakers. He remembered the first time the demon had seen a little boy place a star atop his Christmas tree in the mid-19th century, somewhere in Wales that they had met up in for a drink; Crowley's eyes had widened, and then his lips had pulled up in the beginnings of a smile, and then he had beamed, and it had been beautiful on him.
"Aziraphale", Crowley had whispered with awe and uncharacteristic openness, tugging on Aziraphale's sleeve and pointing, his eyes stretched open wide. "Aziraphale, look. I made that."
"You made the . . . decoration?"
Crowley had shaken his head, still staring at the star. He had looked, for lack of a better term, starstruck.
"The stars."
Aziraphale had smiled with understanding, then, and had tried to quash the aching of his heart that threatened to overwhelm him if he were to look into Crowley's face for too long. He felt as if he would be blinded; Icarus, flying directly into the sun.
"That you did, my dear," he had murmured fondly, allowing himself to become Icarus. "That you did."
It had been a fun tradition ever since then, like how humans baked cookies or exchanged gifts during the holiday season. Even after the Arrangement had ended with not-Armageddon, they had continued it in an unspoken agreement.
Each year, Aziraphale decorated his shop with as many star-themed decorations as he could, and each year (it baffled Crowley, who always looked very bemused when he pulled the Bentley up to the bookshop, but he always put angel wings on the car's fender, so really, he was just the same), he lost the challenge in spirit because of it, and had to bring the next bottle of wine whenever they got together, which was most nights, nowadays. But it didn't matter if he 'lost', because each time he saw Crowley smile even the tiniest quirk of his lips, he felt as he had felt back then, watching the Starmaker craft the universe in their fingertips.
"There's another one!"
In the present Aziraphale smiled, his eyes feeling oddly wet, and moved his hand up almost subconsciously to thread his fingers through Crowley's. The demon paused for a moment as he had begun to point out another star across the square, his mouth half-hanging open, and then he continued on as if nothing had happened, though he held back just as tightly, the only acknowledgement being the slight flush rising in his cheekbones, and the way his eyes darted towards Aziraphale's mouth for a moment.
They were very caught up with staring longingly at each other (though they wouldn't call it that, of course; we can save that particular turn of phrase for the non-Icaruses who have not been blinded by the sun as of yet) that they didn't notice the light pattering of snow beginning to fall around them until Crowley caught a snowflake on his nose and immediately yelped at the shock of it, wrinkling his entire expression and swiping at his face with a fumbling hand.
"Snow!" Aziraphale exclaimed happily, tipping his head up towards the skies and smiling widely. He loved snow. It was soft and beautiful and pure. Crowley had said that snow reminded him of the angel, once.
Aziraphale turned to the demon in question, who was watching him, his cold shock temporarily forgotten as he stared, once again starstruck, at his angel.
"Gorgeous . . ."
"Sorry, what was that, dear?"
"Nothin', angel." Crowley smiled crookedly, and yanked a hat that hadn't been there before out of his coat pocket, shoving it over his ears and grinning wider. He seized Aziraphale's hand in his own once more, with a muttered "S' warm," in lieu of an explanation, and they looked up at the sky together — or rather, Aziraphale watched the snow fall, and Crowley watched Aziraphale.
They both glowed like the stars perched atop the trees, or the snow shining in the light of the sun, and their love was as loud as the tolling of the bells that rang for Christmas Day in the distance.
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