#yuletide loaf

[calabria-mediterranea]

How to celebrate Christmas like a Calabrian

No mere summer fling, the sun-drenched ‘toe’ to Italy’s boot is an unmissable stop in winter, too, being steeped in local traditions that have persisted for generations. With its seasonal delicacies, enchanting cultural performances and jewel-like villages festooned with twinkling lights, yuletide celebrations in this southern Italian region are imbued with folklore and mysticism, and communities, families and visitors alike delight in coming together to experience them.

Revel in local folklore and festive traditions

Calabria is known for its charming living nativity scenes at Christmas, often with friendly animals in tow. The sight of people of all ages dressed as farmers, shepherds, artisans and other characters representing the story of the birth of Jesus can be enjoyed from the run up to Christmas until the Epiphany in many municipalities. Among the most famous are those in Caria (in Vibo Valentia), Davoli (Catanzaro), Cannitello (Reggio Calabria) and Panettieri (Cosenza), which attract thousands every year.

There is also no shortage of music in Calabrian towns and villages during the festive period, when groups of musicians and friends gather in the streets to perform local carols in a ritual known as the strina. These folkloric winter songs are accompanied by the bashing of a murtali or ammaccasali, a tool used to pound salt, along with a bagpipe, tambourine and accordion. The tradition harks back to ancient times when musicians would go door to door to announce the birth of Jesus and play in exchange for eggs, cheese, cold cuts and wine. Today the strina continues to elevate the joyful atmosphere in Calabria’s town centres.

Indulge in 13 decadent dishes

According to Calabrian tradition, on 24 December, no fewer than 13 dishes must be served: 13, of course, referring to the number of Apostles (plus Jesus) at the Last Supper.

Though the nature of the 13 dishes presented vary from family table to table, there are some non-negotiables. The first course is invariably pasta ca’ muddica, an utterly delicious anchovy and breadcrumb pasta that honours simple peasant cuisines of the past. The second course will be salt cod or baccalà, usually accompanied by peppers, black olives, potatoes and chilli. Typically, a dish of piping hot fried seafood is also served alongside, such as fritters or crispelle.

Christmas sweets are also hugely popular throughout the region, with each village proudly preparing them to their own unique recipe and shape. In mountain areas, the pitta ’mpigliata (or the Crotonese variant pitta ’nchiusa), a loaf of honeyed short pastry rolled on itself and filled with candied fruit and sultanas, is ubiquitous. Traditional local biscuits are also baked with abandon in preparation for the feasts: from ciciriati in the Vibonese and Reggio Calabria areas, to susumelle, oval-shaped biscuits made from a cocoa and a spiced cinnamon dough that are popular in the Crotone area.

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[shadow-book-wren]

Yule Superstitions

Animals

Legend says animals can speak on Christmas Eve but not to listen for them because it is unlucky to hear them

Some cattle ranchers believe that if the first person to cross the threshold on Christmas eve is female, only heifers will be born on the ranch for the next year. however, if it is a male, many male calves will be born

Feeding a sprig of mistletoe to the first calf-bearing cow of the new year ensures future fertility for both

Some British believe that ivy leaves fed to each cow after milking and before noon on Christmas morning will force the devil away from the herd and keeper for the next 12 months

If the stars are bright on Christmas Eve, hens will lay well the next year

Monsters

In Sweden, its believed that trolls travel freely through countryside from dusk on Christmas eve to dawn on Christmas morning. its common practice to stay indoor during those hours, in Sweden.

Greece and Poland considers it unlucky to be born on Christmas eve and Christmas day because the roaming monsters - kallikantzaroi (Greece) and werewolves (Poland) can capture the newborn's spirit for their own devices

It is customary, in Greece, to burn all old shoes to ward off misfortune in the new year

Ghost refuse to come out of hiding on Christmas day, babies born then are said to be forever free of ghostly troubles

Food

Refusing mincemeat pie on Christmas brings bad luck in the next year

You will lose a friend before next Christmas, if you don't eat plum pudding during the holiday season

Eat an apple at midnight on Christmas Eve for ensuring good health

Leave a loaf of bread on the table, after Christmas Eve, to guarantee plenty of bread for the household in the coming year

Christmas cakes must remain uncut until December 24, and one piece left uneaten until after Christmas day to ensure good fortune

In Germany, it's customary to eat greasy pancakes on the winter solstice and leave some on the table to feed the winter hag so that she doesn't "hunt you down, slice open your belly, and take the cakes right out"

Gift Giving

When giving clothing for a gift, don't wash or iron or it will press in bad luck and wash away good

House

Make sure all fires in your home burn throughout Yuletide season in order to be free of evil spirits

Some Scandinavian families place all their shoes side by side on Christmas Eve to bring harmony in the home

If you have holes in your stocking, hanging them upside down on the hearth before bed on Christmas Eve is said to have them repaired by St. Nick

Place a cherry tree branch in water two weeks before Christmas. if the branch blossoms by Christmas Day you'll have good luck in the new year.

If you fix a hole in your roof between Christmas and New Year's Day it will reappear

You'll have bad luck if you bring holly into your home before Christmas Eve, and triple bad luck if it's removed before January 6th

Mistletoe has to stay hung in place for one year to ensure good luck and when replaced, the old one should be burned

Burn evergreen and decorations of evergreens to ensure good luck

There is an ancient German custom that states that things with wheels, especially spinning ones- may not be used from 5 days before the solstice until six days after it or else the sun causes all fleece and fiber to tangle beyond repair

Marriage Omens

In Germany, girls play a holiday game, seemingly similar to duck-duck-goose, where the first player to be touched by the blindfolded goose will be first to marry of the participants.

In England on Christmas Eve, its customary for unmarried girls to knock on the hen house door... if a rooster crows in response, she'll be married within 12 months

In Northern Europe, some girls arrange three buckets of water in their bedroom, pin three sprigs of holly to their nightgowns before sleeping and are awakened by three shouts and three chuckles. an apparition of their future husbands will appear and if the buckets are rearranged - the marriage proposal wont have any issues ; If they aren't - they may not be a willing partner

In Poland, it is believed that grinding poppy seed on Christmas Eve will ensure a quick marriage for unmarried women

Tossing twelve sage leaves on Christmas Eve winds will make the image of your future lover materialize

Weather

If the night sky on Christmas Eve is clear and starry, summer harvest will be abundant

The 12 days of Christmas tells the weather for each following months. ex: first day of Christmas = snowy ; January = snowy

Easter will be cold if it doesn't snow on Christmas

if Christmas Day is breezy there will be good luck for the new year

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back

By: @ala-baguette​

Summary: GoF: The story of how a girl whose name he couldn’t even pronounce became the thing that Viktor Krum would miss most.

Prompt: Yule Ball Many thanks to turanga4 for sharing her infinitely patient, infinitely modest, and infinitely infinite wisdom.  HELLZ YEAH CHIASTIC STRUCTURE!  (Or sort of… kind of… I tried…)

Read on AO3 here or continue below:

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A ringing chorus of ‘Deck the Halls’ sounded from a suit of armour as he passed on his way to the library.  Viktor was not entirely familiar with the lyrics in English, but he was fairly certain they did not originally include a line suggesting he adorn his balls in strings of tinsel.  His eyebrow rose as he eyed the armour, but he did not pause his determined march down the corridor.  Viktor had more important things on his mind than the strange customs of Hogwarts Castle.

Christmas seemed to be something of a bigger affair at Hogwarts than at Durmstrang.  On his way up from the ship, Viktor had just seen that massive gamekeeper dragging an enormous fir tree up to the castle, and, inside, the little Charms professor had been magicking non-melting icicles along the banister of the main staircase.  Even the cantankerous librarian had deigned to hang a pair of holly wreaths on the library doors, Viktor noted with some surprise as he rounded the corner. 

Normally, Viktor would be home in Bulgaria with his father for the school holidays.  Bashta was not the festive sort, so Christmas rarely merited more than a passing nod.  Yuletide cheer had a way of making Viktor think of his mother.  Perhaps it was the same for Bashta—it would explain his dismissal of the celebrations.  Mama had loved Christmas.  Viktor didn’t know why he was so sure of this—it wasn’t like anyone ever really told him about her— but it felt right.  Logically, he knew it was perhaps a silly assumption because the only truly good memory he had of her was at Christmas time.  Memory was funny that way.  It was not until recently that Vikor realised how terribly unhappy Mama had been throughout his youth.  He supposed everyone was unhappy back then.  Poverty and hunger had been at a peak in their overcrowded concrete jungle of crumbling flats, and it was hard to ever really feel at peace with Muggle Soviet soldiers and their guns stationed at all the major street corners.  His father had definitely not been the only one drowning his sorrows in a bottle of rakia in those days, but his mother’s unhappiness had been something more.  Something palpable.  In most of his foggy memories, she was like a spectre floating through life.  She wore drab and shapeless homespun dresses over a thin frame, her dark hair lank, her face wan and unsmiling.  This was how Viktor remembered her. But he had one memory—just one—that was quite different.  It had been the Christmas Eve before she’d left.  And she had been happy.  He remembered that night with a suspicious clarity.  He’d been only six years old at the time— logic again told him, this memory was likely invented or romanticised.  But it felt real.  And it was so clear. He remembered the smell of the cabbage rolls stuffed as they came out of the oven.  He remembered Mama winking at him as she sliced the loaf of koledna pitka, being careful which piece she passed to Viktor— sure enough, he found the Silver Sickle in his slice of sweet bread.  He remembered cracking walnuts and her laughing as she threw away the rotten nut from her own shell, calling it all a silly superstition.  And he remembered that they did not bother with the washing-up after dinner, but rather ran outside when they heard the Kaledari singing carols down the street.  In his haste to see the Kaledari in their Christmas finery, Viktor forgot his cloak as he dashed out into the cold.  Mama had crouched down beside him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him back against her to share her cloak and her warmth.  They stayed that way, cheek to cheek as they listened to the music.  And when Viktor craned his neck to look up at her after the carollers had moved on, she smiled at him.  The only true smile he could ever remember from her.  She’d not been a pretty woman, but he remembered that smile being the most beautiful thing in the world.  It had held so much sweetness and affection and kindness and promise for the future. Promise she’d not bothered to keep, of course. As Viktor pushed through the library doors, some whispering could be heard from a reading table to his right.  Then a shrill girlish laugh that made the stern librarian look up from the desk and glare.  Giggling was a common sound when Viktor entered a room, especially lately as they had just announced the Yule Ball would be held in a couple weeks.  ‘A chance to forge relationships between young witches and wizards of different nationalities,’ they said.  ‘International magical cooperation.’  Clearly, they were succeeding, because girls from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons alike were all quite united in their determination to give him a headache.  Yesterday, a group of Hogwarts girls had even approached him with a pot of Everlasting Ink and asked him to sign their— Well, anyway.  That wasn’t the point. Time to focus.  He needed to ask her quickly; a girl like that was sure to be snapped up by someone else if he didn’t.  And he really didn’t know what her relationship was to Potter.  They were so often together, but for all the time he’d watched them, he hadn’t seen anything particularly romantic pass between them.  Still.  Best not push his luck.  He would ask her today.  Before Potter or anyone else had the chance. Assuming she was here, of course…  She often seemed to come to the library after classes and before dinner.  He hoped she was here, hoped she was alone.  Viktor wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to ask her in front of Potter.  His heart pounding, he took a few slow steps forward, his eyes scanning the library.  He licked his lips. And then he froze.  And he felt a smile cross his face.  Because there she was.  Exactly where she’d been the first time they’d met.

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The wood planking of the ship deck thunked under Viktor’s feet as he crossed toward the gangway.  A cheer went up from below deck, and Viktor couldn’t help but glance back in disgust.  It had been nearly a week since the Triwizard Tournament Champions had been selected by the Goblet of Fire.  How many of these parties could his classmates justify?  But the pretence was waning.  Not one of them had even noticed as their supposed guest of honour slunk away.  Not even Astrid Svensson who had spent the better part of the week trying to encourage him to sneak away to the aft cargo hold with her. Viktor descended the gangplank and picked his way across the large muddy puddle that was forming at the base.  He grimaced.  By the first week of November, the Durmstrang grounds would likely already be covered in a thick blanket of snow and ice.  But here, it was all rain and wind and mud as Viktor trudged up to Hogwarts Castle.  Still.  It was better than being in that stuffy ship.  And the nasty weather meant that no one much was out on the grounds.  Viktor drew in a deep bracing breath, feeling the splash of misty droplets of rain on his face.  The air tasted damp and earthy here.  He relished in the silence save for the bluster of the wind in the trees and the squelch of his own feet as he climbed the lawns sloping up toward the castle entrance. He just needed a break.  A break from all the schmoozing, the constant vying for his attention, the boys thumping his back and the girls flirting.  This had all been a part of his life since he’d been signed to the Bulgarian Quidditch Team at sixteen, of course, but it had redoubled since his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, made all the worse by the close confines of the ship.  And ever more, Karkaroff had been looking at him with a smug possessive pride that reminded Viktor unpleasantly of his father.  It all grated on his nerves, and he just needed a break.  When Viktor had first started at Durmstrang at the age of eleven, he had been a nobody.  Then he’d flown for the first time and everything had changed.  They were signing him onto the school team, and they were all calling him a child Quidditch prodigy.  And suddenly everyone was paying a great deal more attention to Viktor than they ever had prior.  The change was most noticeable in his father.  Ever since, when Bashta looked at his son, Viktor could almost see the galleons reflected in his eyes.  Bashta oversaw Viktor’s training personally through the school holidays after that.  He pushed him into flying competition after competition.  He carefully regulated Viktor’s diet to ensure he maintained his Seeker’s build.  He had Viktor out flying practice manoeuvres late into the night until blisters covered his hands and thighs and he’d be at a risk of falling off his broom from exhaustion.  As he approached sixteen, the minimum age to play Quidditch in a professional league, the recruiters had started to come around to watch his school matches.  And so did Bashta, just to be sure Viktor didn’t bungle it. The wind carried another cheer from the Durmstrang ship just as Viktor reached the large oak front door of the castle.  Viktor sighed and shook his head as he pushed his way into the Entrance Hall.  He wasn’t stupid.  Not a single one of them actually cared one whit about him as a person.  Not one of them.  Not his classmates, not his teachers, and certainly not Bashta.  They looked at him and they saw only his fame, his skills.  They saw only how much limelight he could bring them.  How much gold.  Or, for his father, how many bottles of rakia.  It took quite remarkably little effort for Viktor to shake them all off and head up to the castle on his own in search of the library.  He craved the comfort of books.  They didn’t judge him.  Didn’t pretend to be his friend so they could bask in his fame.  But as he wandered the corridors of Hogwarts Castle in search of the library, people continued to whisper and stare at him.  Even here there was no end to it.  He glowered and instead focused on the halls and corridors as he walked along.  This castle was huge.  Much bigger than Durmstrang.  And more elegant and comfortable.  He was quite fascinated by the architecture.  He gazed upward at a particularly spectacular stained-glass window as he trudged along, wondering how long it had been there.  Perhaps he could find a book about the castle’s history in the library.   After twenty minutes of wandering corridors, Viktor reluctantly stopped to ask directions from a couple of boys who looked to be about thirteen.  One gaped at him speechlessly, but the other managed to point to his right and mutter “Right turn.  Just past that suit of armour.  West corridor.”  Then of course, there had been a torrent of whispering between the pair as Viktor shuffled on. He grimaced and massaged a sore spot on his neck as he passed the suit of armour and turned the corner into the corridor indicated by the Hogwarts boy.  His posture and gait had worsened as he’d gotten older, and he was starting to feel the soreness along his spine.  Scoliosis, the Bulgarian Quidditch team Healers had called it.  Treatment options were limited at this point, now that he was fully grown.  If it had been caught when he’d been a young child, they could have fixed it with the wave of a wand.  But now… There was a procedure that could help to straighten his spine, but it came with risks.  One potential side effect was of particular concern to his father, his coach, his team captain…  The potential that it could change his centre of gravity.  Which in turn could take its toll on his skill on a broomstick.  He would effectively have to relearn to fly, and there was no guarantee he would ever be as good as he was now.  Yes, a great many people were very concerned and involved in ‘his’ decision to undertake such a procedure. Viktor couldn’t help but wonder if he might have seen a Healer sooner if his mother had stayed.  Doubtful.  Viktor didn’t know what had become of his mother after she’d left, and he didn’t much care.  It was hard to care about someone who had left him behind when he’d been only six years old.  He wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead.  He supposed dead.  Otherwise, she likely would have tried to contact him when he’d become famous, if only in the hopes of sharing in a bit of his gold.  That was what had kept Bashta in his life for all these years, after all. When Viktor at last found his way to the library, he pushed the large double doors open and stepped inside.  Then immediately stopped dead.  It was glorious.  He stood in an enormous open room with high vaulted ceilings and pointed arches.  Comfortable tables with reading lamps and plush chairs were tucked away in various corners for studying.  And the books!  Viktor had never seen so many books in all his life.  He roamed the isles between tall bookcases, scanning the titles of the books at random.  His fingers trailed along the spines and he breathed in the musty scent of them.  Tilting his head, he began to read the titles one by one.  He appeared to be in the history section.  A smile crossed his lips as he fingered Hogwarts: A History.  Well, that was a happy accident, he thought, as he tugged it off the shelf. Viktor turned from the bookcase, intending to make his way over to one of the cushy chairs he had seen in a window nook on the far side of the library, but— “Oh!” came a small squeal as he bumped into what appeared to be a moving tower of textbooks.  Viktor cursed and nearly tripped as he made hard contact with someone’s shoulder.  And then about fifteen large and heavy books went thundering to the floor.  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” said a girl’s hushed voice as a head of bushy brown hair dove for the floor and scrambled to collect the fallen books. Viktor blinked before kneeling to help her.  He took note of the titles as he began gathering them.  Charms textbooks.  “Not at all.  It vas my fault,” he insisted automatically, though he stumbled over the English phrasing. And then the girl looked up at him and smiled.  And he met her eyes.  And his heart stopped. It wasn’t that she was particularly stunning.  She was pretty enough, really: large warm brown eyes paired with small delicate features and impressively thick brown curly hair.  And he liked that she wasn’t made up with layers of cosmetics or hair straightening potions like Astrid Svensson.  But it wasn’t so much her looks that shocked him; it was the way she looked at him.  She didn’t giggle or blush or bat her eyelashes.  She looked at him like he was… normal.  Like she couldn’t give one shrivelfig that he was famous.  Like he was just like any other boy. “No,” she gave a small shy laugh.  “Really.  It was definitely my fault.  Trying to carry too many books at once.  I couldn’t see over them.”  She looked down and reached to collect the last couple books into a neat pile.  Viktor added the two he’d suddenly realised he’d forgotten were in his hands.  “Oh, I think this one must be yours?” She looked at him questioningly and Viktor stared back blankly.  Then he came back to himself, blinking bemusedly as he looked down to see her holding out the copy of Hogwarts: A History.  He reached out for it slowly and realised his face felt rather warm.  But she just smiled kindly at him.  “It’s a really good book,” she told him, nodding at it.  “I especially loved the section about the atmospheric charms Rowena Ravenclaw invented to make the ceiling in the Great Hall.  She must have been terribly clever.” Viktor looked up again to meet the girl’s eye.  He stared at her blankly.  Say something to her, you fool.  Don’t just gape at her.  Say something.  Anything.  “Well, anyway,” continued the girl.  “Thanks for the help.  And sorry again.”  She stood, her stack of books once again balanced precariously in her arms.  “Happy reading,” she called over her shoulder.  And she rounded the bookcase and was gone from view. Viktor just knelt there where she’d left him, clutching the book she’d held out to him.  He didn’t move for a long moment.  Was that it?  Was that all she was going to say?  Normally when girls talked to him, they talked about him.  They flirted and batted their eyelashes at him as they complimented his flying and pointed out some manoeuvre on the pitch or his latest appearance in Seeker Weekly.  And here, finally, a girl had tried to talk to him about books.  Had not even acknowledged who he was or that he was famous.  And he had just gaped at her! Maybe it wasn’t too late.  Maybe he could follow her.  Talk to her.  But what should he say?  Damn, but he had no idea how to do this.  Getting awkwardly to his feet, Viktor poked his head around the bookcase to see which direction she’d gone.  Maybe he could sit near her.  Then perhaps find an excuse to talk to her again.  Maybe ask to borrow a quill or something? As he rounded the bookcase, however, he saw that she was headed to a small reading table in the corner where Harry Potter of all people was already seated, slumped over a book, leaning an elbow on the table, and staring vacantly at the page. “Here we are,” Viktor heard the girl say to Potter who straightened and pulled his book closer to make room as she deposited her load on the table.  “I’ve brought over all the books I could find that talk about the Summoning Charm.  I really think if you just study a bit of the theory, you’ll get it down.  It’s quite simple, honestly.  I think you’ve just been so distracted by… well… you know… everything.” “And by ‘everything’,” Potter replied darkly, “do you mean by the fact that someone put my name in the Goblet of Fire, clearly trying to do me in, but now the whole school, including my best friend, thinks that I’m an attention-seeking prat who cries himself to sleep over his dead mum every night?” There was a pause as the girl took her seat and looked warily at Potter who was again slumped with his head in his hand.  She licked her lips.  “We’re gonna figure it out, Harry,” she said bracingly.  But she looked worried as she gazed at Potter.  When Potter didn’t respond, she pulled the first of the books off her stack and began running her finger down the table of contents.  “And in the meantime, keeping up with schoolwork can be a good distraction.  So let’s start by reading about the wand movements involved in various relocation spells, shall we?”  But Viktor noticed her shooting Potter another concerned look as she turned the book so he could see the page she’d opened to. Viktor turned away and wandered to one of the plush reading chairs.  Though he couldn’t hear Potter and the girl from across the room, he still found his eyes drifting in their direction as he settled himself.  The girl had gotten up and moved to sit on the same side of the table as she tutored Potter attentively.  Potter, meanwhile, looked morose and unfocussed.  Viktor couldn’t say exactly what it was about this girl that fascinated him so much.  It was something in the way she looked at Potter… Viktor had never had a friend.  Not a real one.  He’d always thought a lack of friends was just the price of his fame.  But Potter… He was even more famous than Viktor, and yet he had found this girl.  A girl who looked at him with concern.  With genuine worry for his wellbeing.  Viktor had never known anyone to look at him that way.  No.  This was stupid.  He refused to be jealous of Potter.  Viktor brushed the thought aside, opened his book, and allowed himself to be transported to a different time.  The library began to empty as dinnertime approached.  A little while later, Viktor glanced across the room to see Potter and the girl leaving.  She was talking encouragingly to Potter who just nodded distractedly.  But he waited for her as she stopped at the front desk to check out a book before they both went down to dinner together.  Viktor got up and shuffled over to the desk as well.  A thin woman with high sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose glowered at him from over the desk, her dark eyes darting to the book Viktor clutched to his chest. “Hello,” he said.  She merely narrowed her eyes in response.  “I vould like to bring this book back to the Durmstrang ship, if I may.”  The girl had been right.  The book was excellent, and when he read the chapter about Rowena Ravenclaws atmospheric charms, he’d found his mouth hanging open in awe. The librarian eyed him up and down, and Viktor had the impression she was gauging the risk that he would throw the book in the lake if she let him take it.  Then she held out a claw-like hand.  Viktor passed it to her.  “Sign your name and the book title in that ledger,” the woman snapped, gesturing to a large open tome on the desk.  She meanwhile, flipped to the inside back cover of Hogwarts: A History and pulled out a large time stamp, which she pounded down menacingly on a sheet Spellotaped inside.  Then she thrust the book back across the counter toward him. Viktor picked up the provided quill to sign the ledger as directed.  But his eyes drifted to the name on the line above.  “Hermy-own,” he sounded out softly under his breath.

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Viktor forced himself back to the present.  There was work to be done.  Soon, all the students would be pairing off to go to the Yule Ball, and there was only one person Viktor wanted to go with.  He had to ask her before anyone else had the chance.  He rubbed cold fingers together as he watched the girl.  With how hard and fast his heart was pounding, one would think at least some blood should be making its way to his fingertips, but it sure didn’t feel that way; they were cold as ice.  Hell, but he was more nervous than he’d been before the Quidditch World Cup!  But maybe that wasn’t a fair comparison.  Flying, he was good at.  This, on the other hand… Six weeks had passed since he’d first seen her, and in all that time, she’d scarcely looked at him.  Viktor couldn’t help but smile ruefully at the irony of it.  For weeks, he’d sat here wishing that she’d smile at him, flirt with him, show him some sign of interest.  But he also knew that the reason she fascinated him so was that she never did.  The closest she’d ever come to even acknowledging his presence had been to glare at the group of loudly giggling girls who’d developed a habit of following Viktor around.   He wondered if she even remembered the first time they’d met in this spot.  He allowed himself one more moment to watch her.  He wasn’t procrastinating.  He just liked watching her.  A crease appeared between her brows as she scanned along the spines of the books on the shelf.  She chewed on her lower lip absently for a moment when she failed to find what she was looking for.  Then smiled to herself in a satisfied sort of way as she purposely reached up and plucked out the book she had been seeking.  Too impatient to wait until she’d gone back to her seat, she opened it then and there and began reading in the middle of the stacks.  Every movement, every gesture, every nervous habit he had grown to find so endearing and fascinating. So yes.  For six weeks he had watched her this way.  For six weeks, he’d stood on the side lines, marvelling that she never seemed to notice him while simultaneously wishing that she would.  For six weeks, he’d wondered at how expressive her face was, how she wore her emotions where everyone could see them.  And yet, despite this, he wondered that he had not the faintest idea of what went on inside her head.  He wondered why she spent so much time in the library rather than with other girls.  He wondered why she wore a brightly coloured badge that read ‘S.P.E.W.’  Wondered why she often selected books on the history of House-elves or on the legal rights of magical creatures.  And most of all, he wondered if she ever noticed him there wondering about her.  But the time had come to stop wondering and start acting.  Today was the day.  It had to be.  Today was the day he would finally talk to her.  And so, with a deep bracing breath, he forced his feet to move forward. “Hello,” he said.  He straightened his spine as much as he could as he looked at her. The girl blinked as she looked up from her book, startled.  “Oh.  Hi.”  She looked at him expectantly and confusedly as though she could not imagine why he’d approached her. Viktor stared at her.  She stared back.  And abruptly Viktor realised he’d completely forgotten what he’d been planning to say. The girl looked at him a little concernedly.  Then she glanced at the bookshelf behind her.  Then back up to him.  “Am I in your way?  Sorry.  You can take whichever you need.”  She made to move aside. “No,” Viktor hastened to say.  He licked his lips.  Damn, but he was bad at this.  “I am not needing any books.  I vas just vanting to talk to you.” “Oh,” said the girl.  And she looked surprised.  And confused.  “I haf been vanting to talk to you for veeks and veeks,” he admitted.  “I haf been coming to the library to talk to you, but I vas not having the courage.” “Oh,” said the girl again.  “I see.”  But she still looked confused.  She glanced over her shoulder as though half expecting to find someone else there who he was actually addressing instead of her.  He needed to be clearer. “Vould you like to go to the Yule Ball with me,” Viktor asked.  The words came out slow and deliberate, and he thought there could be no confusion in them. And then the girl’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in sudden understanding.  “Oh!” she said yet again.  Viktor found it fascinating that she could say that one small two letter word and have it mean so many different things.  The girl gave a small laugh under her breath looking away for a moment.  She brushed her hair back behind one ear, and Viktor saw colour spreading across her cheeks.  Then she looked back at him and bit her lip before a smile broke through. She hugged her book to her chest.  “Er, yes.  Yes, I would like that very much.” And she blushed deeper. Viktor gave her a nod.  “Thank you,” he said, and he turned to walk away before she noticed the relief flood his face.  Because suddenly he felt desperate to be gone before he bungled it.  But he caught her look of surprise at the sudden end to the conversation.  Was that it? Before he’d managed more than a few steps, she called him back.  “But why me?” she asked. Viktor looked back at her over his shoulder and considered her a moment.  “Because you haf to ask ‘vy you’.” And the girl’s bewildered face parted into a bright smile.  And that smile held so much sweetness and affection and kindness and promise for the future.  In that smile he saw himself twirling her on the dance floor under the snowy Great Hall ceiling.  He saw them hand-in-hand as they strolled the midnight gardens surrounded by fairy lights.  He saw her resting her head on his shoulder as they listened to carols.  He saw them kissing under the mistletoe.  And that smile was the most beautiful thing in the world. Viktor left the library with his heart still pounding in exhilaration and triumph.  He turned the corner and immediately, the suit of armour began to sing loudly to him again, happy to have an audience. Dashing through the snow ‘Cause I had to take a piss My bladder was so full Releasing it was bliss A word of caution though For no loo was in sight Don’t eat the yellow snow It likely won’t taste right “PEEVES!”  The Hogwarts caretaker was wheezing as he stormed up the stairs, and brushed past Viktor as he headed the opposite direction.  “Get out of there, you infuriating poltergeist!  I’ll be reporting you to Dumbledore, Peeves, you know I will!  You think anyone wants to hear this filth?” Viktor chuckled to himself as he turned onto the main staircase, the clanging and shouting and occasional dirty song lyrics following after him.  He ran his fingers along the magicked icicles as he skipped down the stairs, marvelling at how they could feel exactly like ice and yet were somehow not cold.  He paused halfway down the stairs to look over the banister across the Entrance Hall below.  The tree he had seen the gamekeeper dragging up was now erected in the Entrance Hall and covered in fairy lights and brightly coloured baubles and real hooting golden owls.  Garlands were draped over the doors into the Great Hall.  A chandelier of ice adorned the ceiling. Viktor smiled.  He found himself suddenly quite enjoying the Hogwarts Christmas cheer.

[psalm22-6]

Source: the San Bernardine Sun, 25 December 1978 Wild to learn about the reach of the March/Laughton film from ‘35. Also this article is so funny to me because they can no longer just say Cosette, Fantine,  or Marius and assume that the reader knows who they mean so they end up saying Valjean’s ward, Valjean’s ward’s mother, and Valjean’s ward’s lover and other round about things.  Also I read in a later article that the program “drew 38 percent of the national audience, according to the Neilsen ratings, and was the week's highest-rated special.” But overall it was ninth in the week for ratings, tied with a rerun of MASH.

HOLLYWOOD  — If Victor Hugo was alive today he'd be one of the most sought-after writers by television network presidents. His stories contain all the elements deemed necessary to make a film or series successful. Most notable example is Hugo's "Les Miserables," written in 1862. Inspired by the French people seeking freedom from oppression, he wrote the now-classic tale of an impoverished man, Jean Valjean, who steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family, and that act of survival sets off a chain reaction that includes drama, adventure, jeopardy, love, hatred and, above all, the action of the chase. CBS has picked the middle of what is usually considered an "off-week," the period between Christmas and New Year's Day when people are too preoccupied with holiday festivities to watch TV, to show the latest version of "Les Miserables," the Norman Rosemont Production in association with ITC Entertainment which occupies all three hours of CBS' prime-time programming Wednesday. It's CBS' gift-wrapped treat amid the rubble of reruns. The family that takes time out to relax from Yuletide activities will thoroughly enjoy a class production filmed in France and England in authentic surroundings that look as though no stone has been dislodged from its place since Hugo described its locale in his drama. Richard Jordan portrays Valjean, whose life is to be dogged by his obsessed pursuer, Inspector Javert, played by Anthony Perkins. As with his other revivals of the classics, "The Count of Monte Cristo," "The Man in the Iron Mask" and "The Four Feathers," all produced for both TV and theatrical release, Norman Rosemont has populated the cast with distinguished veteran actors. In his last performance, Claude Dauphin, who died recently, is seen as the kindly bishop who befriends Valjean. Sir John Gielgud is an elderly aristocrat. Celia Johnson is Valjean's housekeeper. Flora Robson is the head of a convent. Cyril Cusak is the convent's groundskeeper who provides brief refuge for the prison-escaping Valjean. Ian Holm is a greedy innkeeper. Joyce Redman is the bishop's housekeeper. 

Two young British newcomers, Caroline Langrishe and Christopher Guard, were chosen to play Valjean's pretty ward and the grandson of Gielgud. And Angela Pleasance is the beggar woman who further impedes Valjean's escape by entrusting her daughter (Langrishe) to his care. 

Of the many films on Hugo's classic (Jean Gavin as Valjean in the 1952 French movie; Gino Cervi in a 1943 Italian feature; Michael Rennie in a 1952 TV kinescope), the 1952 Warner Bros, movie with Frederic March and Charles Laughton is best remembered. 

Who can forget Laughton's Javert, having finally cornered Valjean (March) in a Paris sewer after his three-decade pursuit, shouting "The law is the law!" although, he, like Valjean, is aged and weary of this senseless pursuit. Did the specter of Laughton's dominating performance lurk in the background of this 1978 version? "No, not really," replied Glenn Jordan, who directed the $3 million production. "I saw the Laughton version twice and found very little I could use. One of the few things I thought interesting and useful was that Laughton played an eccentric. So I had Tony play it eccentrically, but in an entirely different way.

"Laughton was always Laughton in the end, not the characters he portrayed. I felt it was important to be the character Hugo intended because, after all, a lot of people have never seen those other versions or ever read the book." 

[Glenn] Jordan, who won an Emmy for the Ben Franklin specials on TV, among other citations for notable TV and stage productions, says that [Richard] Jordan, who first gained attention in TV's "The Captains and the Kings," and Perkins are much closer to the characters Hugo described in his lengthy novel. "I remember March and Laughton as being too old for their roles. They didn't really age as much as people would in real life, especially people who went through what they did. We assume Hugo's characters were about the same age in the beginning. The imprisonment period is 20 years, then a jump of five years passes, then it's 10 years more. [Really? March is such a young Jean Valjean]  "That's why it was important to cast young men who could age (via make-up and character change), rather than start out with older actors in those roles." Redoing the classics has bothered some purists who prefer to let the original versions stand on their merits. But Glenn Jordan has valid reasons for remaking a classic such as this. "The social problems of poverty and justice vs. justice, these are things, I think that are self-explanatory," he said. "But the human problems, the relations between the people are the most interesting because, it seems to me, that when you redo a classic you have to make it vivid for today's audience. "When you see older versions of such stories they are very much versions of their time and reflect the thinking of their time, including the style in which they were done." By PAUL HENMGER Gannett News Service

[fierywitchy]

The Wheel of the Year

[plain text: The Wheel of the Year]

The Wheel of the Year was created by Gerald Gardner, in part based off what was known about ancient Celtic festivals celebrating the year passing, and he named the festivals - some what were known as the names the Celts and Germanic people used for them, some he invented himself. As such, it is a big part of Wicca, but many other witches use it throughout the year (and there are plenty who don't!). The dates listed below (with Gardner's names for the festivals) are for the Northern hemisphere, as the seasons pass oppositely in the Southern hemisphere, they are usually celebrated the other way around.

Samhain (31st October/1st November)

Yule (20-23rd December)(date of the winter solstice varies)

Imbolc/Candlemas (1st February)

Ostara (21st March)(spring equinox)

Beltane (1st May)

Litha (21st June) (summer solstice/midsummer)

Lughnasadh/Lammas (1st August)

Mabon (21st September)(autumnal equinox)

notes: Lughnasadh and Lammas are two separate festivals (historically) that happen on the same date; despite this, many people use the names interchangeably though they are not the same thing. The names Litha, Ostara, and Mabon have no properly verifiable historical basis and most likely have been made up by Gardner.

The two "main" holidays are considered to be Samhain and Beltane, often considered to be the two times when the veil between worlds is at it's thinnest.

Samhain can be linked to Halloween/All Hallows Eve (31st October) and All Saints Day (1st November) as well as Dia de los Muertes (1st/2nd November), reflecting how many cultures viewed it as a time with more spirits/saints/ghosts around. For many, Samhain is considered the "Witches New Year" and is the start of the Wheel of the Year. It marks the beginning of the darker half of the year, as shown in many stories surrounding the Wheel of the Year such as the Goddess and the Green Man, the Oak King and Holly King, and the cycle between the Wiccan Horned God and Triple Goddess.

Beltane happens at the opposite side of the year, and is also called May Day, traditions such as maypole dancing are commonly done at this time of year. It is a spring festival, the beginning of the lighter half of the year, and often associated with fertility and creativity.

Imbolc/Candlemas, also known as St Brighid's Day, is the midpoint between Samhain and Beltane, with Lughnasadh and Lammas being the midpoint between Beltane and Samhain. Imbolc is often associated with the saint Brighid, and happens at the same time as the Christian event Candlemas, although some people call Imbolc Candlemas without following the Christian traditions associated with the holiday. Lughnasadh was originally a festival associated with the Irish sun god, Lugh, and Lammas is originally a Christian holiday also referred to as "loaf mass day", which is where the tradition of baking bread on the 1st August comes from.

The solstices and equinoxes are minor holidays, with the equinoxes being the most minor. Yule is perhaps the most well known of these minor holidays, as Christmas is often referred to as Yuletide, due to the overlap in the Germanic regions and parts of Scandinavia where Yule was most commonly celebrated. Yule is the winter solstice - the time where the days are the shortest, and Litha (aka Midsummer) is the summer solstice - the time when the days are the longest. Ostara and Mabon were less commonly celebrated, hence the need for Gardner to come up with names for these holidays.

This concludes my (not so brief anymore) overview of the Wheel of the Year, my next long written post will likely be my personal usage of the Wheel of the Year and the issues with some of Gardner's names for the holiday (we do not have time to get into the issues with Gardner in general and plenty of people have summed it up a lot better than I can)

[brofisting]

for several reasons i have kind of stopped enjoying christmas in the past few years but i am trying to think of things i can really like about it since it’s the holiday my family celebrates and also the week i have off of work. here are the ones i’ve gotten so far

Yuletide

personal tumblr tradition of posting Vienna Teng’s “The Atheist Christmas Carol” every year

listening to the entirety of the Trans Siberian Orschestras christmas concept album series (basically christmas Meat Loaf)

my friend posting the Shinee “SIMPLY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIME” video

making and subsequently eating lots of cookies

participating in fulfilling Trans Santa gift wishlists

buying a new ornament from the wood Christmas ornament lady at the Union Square market every year

[thewomanwhowatchedchristmas]

12 Dates of Christmas (2011) 

We have a Groundhog Day situation, but with yuletide fun!

Kate Stanton (Amy Smart) is a woman with a plan this Christmas Eve. She is going to get her ex boyfriend Jack (Benjamin Ayres) back, get married, and live happily ever after. She explains all this to her best friend Miyoko (Laura Miyata) after she calls Jack asking when she can see Max, his dog that she sometimes watches still I guess? I know that I'm an intense pet parent, but I wouldn't trust any exes with my dogs. Anyway, so Kate is shopping for a Christmas gift for Jack when she gets spritzed in the face with perfume and passes out. She comes to pretty quickly, and rushes off. On her way back to her apartment, she runs into her neighbor Margine (Jayne Eastwood) who has baked her a cherry chip loaf. Which honestly sounds great. Cherry chip is my dad's favorite, so I might have to look up a recipe for it.

Once Kate gets home and changed, she heads to a blind date set up by her dad Mike (Peter MacNeill) and his significant other Sally (Mary Long). When she arrives at the bar, the first person she meets is a nerdy looking man named Toby (Joe MacLeod), but he's waiting for Phyllis. Then she meets her actual date, Miles Dufine (Mark-Paul Gosselaar). However, Kate is so sure that it won't work out that it's a terrible date. She is rude to Miles and leaves early to go meet Jack. However, Jack brings his new girlfriend Nancy (Jennifer Kydd). Kate is upset, but still takes Max and heads to her dad's house for dinner, and then goes to bed like normal.

When she wakes up, it's still Christmas Eve and she's on the floor of the department store again where she woke up after getting spritzed. She doesn't do the same thing every time she wakes up there, but that's almost all the people she interacts with every time (there's also a neighbor couple and a teenager, but they aren't every day).

For me, Kate was a frustrating protagonist because she was very high strung. It's also a little frustrating that every time she is rude to Miles, he's never willing to hear her out. She doesn't always try to explain or apologize, but when she does, he still walks away. Which, like, good for you for knowing your worth, but also, miscommunication happens. Especially with people who don't know each other very well.

Overall, I think the acting and production quality is here, but the story falls a little flat. It's fine, but nothing special. I probably won't watch it again. 2.5 stars.

[tipsycad147]

Yule Recipes and Activities, Yule Part 3

Yule is almost upon us! And with every holiday, you’re probably trying to figure out what exactly you still need to make this a wonderful day. So I’ve pulled together some yule recipes and activities for every person, witchy or not.

Yule

It’s also a time for feasting and merriment with friends and family, rest and rebirth as spring approaches and a time to plan for the coming year.

With all the feasting and merriment, you gotta have food of course!

So I’ve gathered a list of foods and activities you can use to celebrate Yule. You can find links to all of these and more on our Yule Pinterest Board. (Find that here)

Yule Recipes Ideas

As with all of the Wiccan Sabbats, you can make whatever works best for you! Some people prefer to stick to more “traditional” fare, while others embrace new foods and traditions. Do what works best for you. I will make up a small list of more luxurious and fancy food items you could try as well if you want to splurge.(although a freezer pizza and fries can be just as delicious and much cheaper…lol)

Traditional Yule Recipes

Boar(or in this case ham)

Wassail

If you’ve ever heard the song “Here we got a-waissailing” then you’ve been introduced to this winter drink. Both the Fall and Winter Festivals feature wassail, which is known for its spicy and sweet flavors. A hot cider filled with heady spices and a variety of fruit juices, it’ll be sure to put you into a Yuletide Cheer.

Eggnog

You either love it or you hate it. Eggnog dates back to the Medieval times and is a holiday favorite for many people. Make yours from scratch or buy it from the store, however you choose to enjoy it best for you.

Buche de Noel(or Yule Log)

Rum Cake

Another dessert( and another drink, seeing a theme yet?) Hot buttered rum and rum cakes are a festive part of the festivities. Just be careful how much you add to the cake!

Fresh Bread

Baking bread is a common activity and dish featured during each of the holidays.And who can blame them, fresh bread is delicious! This Yule, try making a Sun Loaf or a Sun Wheel bread. Yumm!

Fancy Dish Recipes for Yule

These meals are just as yummy for Yule but can be a touch more decadent. If you’ve got the time and funds to spare then go for it!

Surf and Turf

Yumm. A nice slab of beef and a variety of seafood including shrimp, scallops or crab are a delicious meal idea.

Prime Rib

Make your Pork dish a beef dish instead. Prime rib is a delicious meal idea.(and keeps you from having to have turkey for the 2nd month in a row)

Goose

Have you ever watched or read “A Christmas Carol”? Several English Christmas stories talk about the Christmas goose hanging up in the window of the local butcher shop. Goose isn’t as common now when we have turkey and chicken available in grocery stores but it sounds like it could be a delicious change. Check your local farms for the best goose to cook.

Italian Seafood Soup

Seafood is not cheap! But it so good…(sorry if you have seafood allergies. ) Cioppino is a tomato based seafood soup and it sounds delicious. If you’re not Italian, maybe try it anyways? Trying new traditions and cultures can be a wonderful( and yummy) thing!

Other Yule Recipe Ideas

Hot Toddy

Hot Cocoa(classic!)

Tomato Bisque

Sun King Soup

Plum Pudding

Baked Spaghetti Squash

Sunrise Skillet Recipe

Peppermint Fudge(or any fudge really)

Feel free to mix and match your favorite recipes. Yule and the most of the Fall/Winter Holidays focus on hearty meat based soups and meals, breads and root veggies. SO customize to your hearts content! (Don’t forget to check our Pinterest board for all the recipe links)

Yule Activities

Yule Crafts and Activities

Orange Pomander

Dried Orange Slices/Garland

Decorate jars with tissue paper and leaves

Candle Making

Make an outdoor solstice spot

Give Gifts

Make a bird feeder

Feast

Write down goals/intentions

Paper lanterns for kids

Julbuck(made with straw(traditional) or yarn)

Sledding

Snowman

Sleigh ride

Ice-skating

Ice luminaries

Snowball lantern

Yule/Winter Solstice books

Celebrating the Shortest day by Wendy Pfeffer

The Winter Solstice by Ellen Jackson

The Return of the Light by Carolyn Edwards

Sun Bread by Elisa Kleven

The Solstice Badger by Robin Mcfadden

The Mitten by Jan Brett

One Short Day in December by Lilith Rogers

Iliana by Walter Fordham

The Sunchildren by Ancient Amber

Sleep Tight Farm by Eugenie Doyle

Yule-Tide Cheer to All!

What do you think of all these fun activities for Yule? Do you have your own traditions to add to the list? Which activity or Yule recipes are your favorite?

If you are new here make sure to check out all of our other blog posts over on the Blog Page. For Holiday related products and gifts check out the Shop. And don’t forget to follow us on Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram for farm photos, trivia, shop updates and more!

[wildacookbook]

“Candy”

Grandma was the queen of unnecessary quotation marks.

[breelandwalker]

Recipe Roundup in Review

In years past, I posted a two-month series of recipes suitable for the autumn season, which everyone seemed to enjoy very much. I’ve been too busy this year to make up a new queue, so I thought I’d compile a big long list of links for anyone who’s looking for recipe ideas this fall.

Update: I’ve posted more recipes since the original roundup and I’ve added those additional links to the list below. I’ve also done my best to mark which ones are vegetarian (🌿) or could be easily altered to be so. (Some could also be altered for a vegan diet using egg, milk, or butter substitutes.) Recipes which may include alcohol as an ingredient are also marked (🍷).

Some are fall-themed, others are for more wintry occasions. But all are designed to make the most of the season and keep our hearts and bellies full as we face the coming cold. Enjoy!

Appetizers, Sides, & Snacks

A Pair of Stuffing Recipes 🌿

Asparagus Salad 🌿

Baked Apples 🌿

Beets with Cloves and Cinnamon 🌿

Bree's Cheddar-Garlic Mashed Potatoes 🌿

Bree's Homemade Colcannon 🌿

Carrot Fritters 🌿

Cheese & Bacon Pinwheels

Cheese Toasties 🌿

Cranberry-Orange Sauce 🌿

Fish Cakes

Irish Stout Apple Fritters 🌿🍷

Oatmeal & Potato Bread 🌿

Parsnip & Apples 🌿

Pumpkin Seeds 🌿

Sprouts au Gratin 🌿

Soups

Butternut Squash and Pear Pottage 🌿

Cheese Soup & Dumplings 🌿

Chestnut Soup 🌿

Garlic Soup 🌿

Gingered Pumpkin Soup with Molasses Cream 🌿

King's Arms Tavern Cream of Peanut Soup 🌿

Mashed Potato Soup 🌿

Mushroom Soup 🌿

Entrees

Acorn Squash with Cinnamon and Honey 🌿

Bree's Baked Ziti

Bree's Crockpot/One-pot Chili 🍷

Bree's Fried Chicken Parmesan

Bree's Honey Baked Salmon

Bree's Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole 🍷

Bree's Roast Chicken with Apples and Potatoes 🍷

Bree's Sesame Ginger Chicken

Bree's Turkey Hash Casserole

Dill-Crusted Salmon

Irish Stew 🍷

Meat Patties in Crust

Michaelmas Goose with Sage & Onion Stuffing 🍷

Pan Haggerty

Pumpkin Plenty 🌿

Roast Pork Tenderloin with Orange & Onion Sauce

Rosemary-Orange Beef

Savory Yuletide Pie 🌿

Spiced Pot Roast 🍷

Stuffed Acorn Squash 🌿

Stuffed Braised Beef

Surry Sausage, Squash, & Apple Bake with Savory Streusel Topping

Xanodrian Beef Stew 🍷

Welsh Potato Pie 🌿

Welsh Trout in Bacon

Baked Goods

Applesauce Buttermilk Biscuits 🌿

Barm Brack 🌿

Beer-Bacon-Onion Muffins

Caerphilly Scones 🌿

Christiana Campbell's Tavern Sweet Potato Muffins 🌿

Drop Scones 🌿

Gingered Pumpkin Muffins 🌿

King's Arms Tavern Apple Cheddar Muffins 🌿

Tea Table Goodies

Apple & Potato Cake 🌿

Apple Raisin Cider Teabread 🌿

Bree's Cranberry Pumpkin Bread 🌿

Faerie Cakes 🌿

Irish Apple Cake 🌿

Irish Apple Teabread 🌿

Irish Whiskey Cake 🌿🍷

Isle of Wight Farmhouse Cake 

Marmalade Loaf 🌿

Porter Cake 🌿🍷

Seed Cake 🌿

Shortbread 🌿

Welsh Crumpets 🌿

Desserts

Apple Fritters 🌿

Baked Apples 🌿

Bramble Dessert 🌿

Bree's Easy-Peasy Molten Chocolate Cake 🌿

Bree's Semi-Sweet Chocolate Pumpkin Bundt Cake with Chocolate Liquer Glaze 🌿🍷

Chranachan 🌿

Christmas Plum Pudding 

Beverages, Jams, and Sauces

Eggnog 🍷

Hot Buttered Rum 🌿🍷

Mulled Cider 🌿🍷

Samhain Wine Cup 🌿🍷

Wassail 🌿🍷

Blackberry & Apple Jam 🌿

Irish Whiskey Marmalade 🌿🍷

Bree's Dad's Sauce Recipes 🍷

Delectable Dressings 🌿

Sources

Celtic Folklore Cooking (Asala)

A Kitchen Witch’s Cookbook (Telesco)

A Witch’s Brew (Telesco)

Kitchen WItch’s Guide to Brews and Potions (Telesco)

The Kitchen Witch (Soraya)

Witch in the Kitchen (Johnson)

The Colonial Williamsburg Tavern Cookbook (Gonzalez)

Favorite Meals from Williamsburg (Turgeon)

Holiday Fare: Favorite Williamsburg Meals (Gonzalez)

The Very Best of Irish Traditional Cooking (Lennon and Campbell)

An Irish Country Cookbook (Taylor)

And of course, a selection of family recipes, shared with all of you for the joy of the season.

Happy Cooking!

[cameoappearance]

Every Don’t Starve character eating Winter’s Feast snacks

Gingerbread Cookie:

Wilson: "The anatomy's not right, but I'll overlook it."

Willow: "Honestly, who DOESN'T eat the head first?"

Wolfgang: "Little man will crumble under my mighty teeth!"

Wendy: "I'm going to eat you."

WX-78: "WHERE ARE THE ROBOT-SHAPED CONFECTIONS"

Wickerbottom: "What a delightful little individual."

Woodie: "It's a gingerbread lumberjack."

Maxwell: "Stop looking at me, cookie fiend."

Wigfrid: "How dost I free you from the bread, man of ginger??"

Webber: "I won't eat it. It's our friend now."

Winona: "I love these things!"

Wortox: "It looks like a little mortal! Hyuyu!"

Wormwood: "Friend?"

Warly: "It has that "homecooked" charm."

Wurt: "MMMM, but what it supposed to be?"

Walter: "Mom made these every year."

Wanda: "I half expect it to start running at any moment."

Sugar Cookie:

Wilson: "I'm going to eat forty. For science."

Willow: "Doesn't look too bad, considering!"

Wolfgang: "Does Wolfgang have sugar in moustache?"

Wendy: "Not nearly sweet enough to balance out this bitter world."

WX-78: "FLESHLINGS LOVE SHAPING FOOD LIKE NON-FOOD"

Wickerbottom: "Just like holidays at the library!"

Woodie: "Always had a soft spot for a good holiday cookie."

Maxwell: "We're celebrating freezing to death, I see."

Wigfrid: "Like a snowflake, it is a gift from the heavens!"

Webber: "Icy icy icing!"

Winona: "No thanks, I'm sweet enough."

Wortox: "I might try one today."

Wormwood: "Oh. Didn't fall from sky"

Warly: "Cooking is a way of expressing love."

Wurt: "This snowflake melt on tongue too!"

Walter: "I'll make sure the younger kids don't eat too many."

Wanda: "It's so hard to stop once you've eaten one."

Candy Cane:

Wilson: "A Yuletide toothache waiting to happen."

Willow: "Gimme two of 'em and I can do a MacTusk impression."

Wolfgang: "Little sugar stick."

Wendy: "If you eat it right... the end gets sharp..."

WX-78: "A ROD OF CONCENTRATED SUGAR FUEL"

Wickerbottom: "The perfect stir stick for hot cup of tea."

Woodie: "Satisfies the sweet tooth."

Maxwell: "I don't even use a cane."

Wigfrid: "T'would look as divine on the tree as in mine mouth!"

Webber: "Eat twenty candy canes! There's no candy shame!"

Winona: "Homemade. What a waste of time!"

Wortox: "The children hang them on my horns."

Wormwood: "Mmm... Sweet belly thing"

Warly: "The candy strands are expertly entwined."

Wurt: "Crunchy!"

Walter: "Don't eat too many, you'll get sick!"

Wanda: "Mmm, peppermint!"

Eternal Fruitcake:

Wilson: "That experiment may have been a tiny bit unethical."

Willow: "Anyone else sense the overpowering stench of evil?"

Wolfgang: "Wolfgang does not trust little fruit loaf."

Wendy: "It is filled with chunks of evil."

WX-78: "THIS ENERGY SLAB IS STRONG AND EFFICIENT"

Wickerbottom: "An object with negligible temporal drag."

Woodie: "That thing just ain't right."

Maxwell: "It is unbound from time."

Wigfrid: "Stay back, foul creation!"

Webber: "Yuck! What is that??"

Winona: "Just terrible."

Wortox: "How deliciously evil!"

Wormwood: "So many little colors!"

Warly: "It grows on you."

Wurt: "Glurgh, what in this?"

Walter: "I'm... good."

Wanda: ""Eternal"? Ha!"

Chocolate Log Cake:

Wilson: "It's nice to eat something other than berries for once."

Willow: "A log for eating, not for burning."

Wolfgang: "Ha! Wolfgang will eat log, just like beardman!"

Wendy: "It tastes okay, but I've grown tired of logs..."

WX-78: "THE ORGANICS SHAPED THIS ONE LIKE A LOG"

Wickerbottom: "Such expertly prepared raspberry filling!"

Woodie: "All the taste and none of the splinters!"

Maxwell: "How, err... traditional."

Wigfrid: "We feast tonight!"

Webber: "Haha, Wendy! Watch our Woodie impression!"

Winona: "Chocolatey."

Wortox: "Mortal food shaped like a log! How silly."

Wormwood: "Friend?!... Oh. Nope"

Warly: "I wouldn't turn down a slice."

Wurt: "It not a real log?"

Walter: "It's soooo good!"

Wanda: "I never understood the appeal of making a dessert that looks like a piece of wood."

Plum Pudding:

Wilson: "I'm puddin' that straight in my mouth!"

Willow: "I'm gonna totally stuff my face!!"

Wolfgang: "Tiny yummy cakething make strong Wolfgang."

Wendy: "I'm going to lick all the icing off..."

WX-78: "I REQUIRE MORE TREATS"

Wickerbottom: ""Plum" is a 17th century term for "fruit", dear."

Woodie: "Hard to complain aboot this whole "Feast" business."

Maxwell: "It's extremely rich."

Wigfrid: "Twas plucked straight from my nightmares!"

Webber: "Where are the plums?"

Winona: "Not my favorite thing."

Wortox: "Hyuyu! The mortals liquefied these plums!"

Wormwood: "Ball goes in belly"

Warly: "Just like maman used to make."

Wurt: "Watch! Can put whole thing in mouth!"

Walter: "There's fruit in it, so it's healthy right?"

Wanda: "Alright, maybe just a bit of pudding."

Apple Cider:

Wilson: "It's a hollowed apple filled with yummy juice."

Willow: "Sure beats rainwater!"

Wolfgang: "Little fruit is sweet and tasty!"

Wendy: "I don't want Winter's Feast to end..."

WX-78: "DELICIOUS OBLITERATED APPLES"

Wickerbottom: "Pair it with a good book and you've a cure for the winter blues."

Woodie: "Doesn't fall far from the cider tree."

Maxwell: "Glorified apple juice."

Wigfrid: "Something so foul shall never pass my lips!"

Webber: "Apple juice?! Yes!!"

Winona: "That's the good stuff."

Wortox: "I believe I can stomach liquids."

Wormwood: "Haha! Friend made a drink!"

Warly: "Just the right amount of sweetness."

Wurt: "Mmmmm..."

Walter: "Mmm, so warm and cinnamon-y!"

Wanda: "Something warm to sip on."

Hot Cocoa:

Wilson: "How does it stay warm? A thermodynamical mug?"

Willow: "I only like it when it's SCALDING."

Wolfgang: "Wolfgang likes feeling cozy."

Wendy: "I missed cocoa."

WX-78: "ARE MY INSIDES LIQUID PROOF"

Wickerbottom: "A small enchantment keeps it a pleasant temperature."

Woodie: "Perfect for drinking next to a good fire, eh?"

Maxwell: "Such a decadent beverage."

Wigfrid: "Warms the soul."

Webber: "It makes our claws and tummy so warm."

Winona: "Don't burn your mouth."

Wortox: "Maybe just a sip."

Wormwood: "Mmm... Makes belly warm"

Warly: "It smells like comfort and contentment."

Wurt: "This. Best. Thing. Ever."

Walter: "It really warms you up!"

Wanda: "A hot cup of sweetness."

Heavenly Eggnog:

Wilson: "Can science explain why it tastes so good?"

Willow: "Who knew stuff from a bird's butt could be so tasty?"

Wolfgang: "Is much protein inside, yes?"

Wendy: "So aggressively delicious. You can't help but feel better."

WX-78: "EGG JUICE TO POUR DOWN YOUR FOOD HATCH"

Wickerbottom: "I've always harbored a weakness for good 'nog."

Woodie: "Psst, Lucy. Do I have a 'nog moustache?"

Maxwell: "My... favorite... she remembered."

Wigfrid: "Imbibable eggs!"

Webber: "It's really, really good!"

Winona: "I know what eggs are, but what's a "nog"?"

Wortox: "I might try this mortal treat."

Wormwood: "Makes belly full"

Warly: "I'm so happy I could weep."

Wurt: "Sluuuurrrrp!"

Walter: "It's so sweet!"

Wanda: "A nice cold glass of eggnog might do me some good."

[frogsmulder]

Tagged by @freckleslikestars thank you so much loaf 🥰

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIP.

I used to draft all my stuff in Wattpad but ive (not so) recently shifted to docs so the docs ones are more recent/active/likely to get published. And I just opened Wattpad and hoo boy is there a lot of unfinished things in there 😂 to keep it simple I'll only include stuff I've started writing not stuff that's only an outline

Docs

Red headed lover- in the final stages of betaing and will be released soon 😏

Mth 11

Collab fic

Mr squeeze

Wattpad

Wggnog

Baby Mulder crying at his mom's side

It'll be like a date

Stella x Reed

Ftf sick leave

Back in time

Window sunlight desk

Yuletide

Tother history au

Berlin Wall au

Cancer sleep over

A sign of three

Poetry

Scully the suffragette

I'd like to add that these are never usually the final titles and sometimes my drafts are named just by keyboard smashing

Tagging @theresanemman @silhouetteofacedar @baronessblixen @scullysexual @brownies-and-tea @sisterspooky1013 and anyone else who fancies it

[tintentrinkerin]

Yuletide

Rating: Teen and Up / PG-13 Pairing: Sam/Jack/Dean Tags: Fluff, Alcohol, Mistletoe Kissing Summary: Sam and Dean visit a Christmas Market with Jack. Word count: 1.3k

Read under the cut or on AO3

Sam would later deny he had anything to do what happened to Jack when they went out to show him Lebanon’s christmas market.

It has snowed recently, and it promised to be a white Christmas this year. The decorations in the bunker were up already, Jack and Dean had baked too many cookies for three people to eat ever, which is why Jack donated around 4 lbs to a local charity organisation. He had also baked cookies for dogs and donated them to the animal shelter. He seemed to love Christmas, while the Winchesters didn’t celebrate much at any time of the year, given their hunter lifestyle. This year it was peaceful though.

Neither Sam nor Dean were surprised when Jack asked to go to the Christmas market with him. Both said yes. And later on, in a tiny whiskey delirium Dean wanted to take bets with Sam which one Jack would kiss under a mistletoe. Sam called him an idiot and wished, deep inside, Jack would choose him.

The next day, there were indeed several mistletoe hung up over random doors all around the bunker and Sam knew, it was Dean fucking with him and Jack. He tried to argue with Dean but all he did was kissing Sam under every mistletoe whenever they crossed one. Dean didn’t seem to care at least one bit that Jack saw them on several occasions.

And now they’re here. The air is crisp and tiny little snowflakes float in a gentle breeze. Jack is all dressed up with a red bobble hat, red gloves and a scarf. He knitted all of it on his own and he looks just adorable. His nose is pink from the cold and he burns his tongue on the mulled wine Dean and Sam allowed him to drink. He’s already full because he ate three slices of fruit loaf and apple pie. Dean has accompanied him on the apple pie of course, while Sam bought Christmas presents for his brother and Jack.

Jack takes another sip but he looks a little miserable.

Dean laughs in his mug.

“My tongue hurtph”, Jack says, looking a bit sad.

Sam also has to smile about it.

“Well, it’s hot, you could’ve known that beforehand.”

Dean is happy with his third mug of Citrus Whisky Punch and Sam himself sticks with Hot Chocolate (with a lot of Rum in it). Actually Sam doesn’t want to get tipsy but the cold and the delicious stuff the beverage booths make him drink more than usual.

“Let’s hope you won’t need your tongue for something serious today”, Dean says and gets a nudge from Sam. And a very emphatic kick.

“What do you mean?”, Jack asks and blows in his mug.

His lips do look good, though, Sam thinks. They’re full and pink and sometimes Sam thinks about it. The same way Dean does, how he admitted recently. Sam isn’t the jealous type, they both have the hots for Jack, it could be worse.

Dean smirks and gets another kick. This time Sam tries to interfere before Dean says any more stupid shit in front of the kid.

“He means, when you burnt your tongue, it will hurt. With spicy food for example.”

Jack looks at him with big blue puppy eyes.

“But Dean wanted to make a curry later!” he exclaims.

“The world is tough, kiddo”, Dean says and rubs his leg.

Gladly Jack’s indignation doesn’t last long and he finishes his mug of mulled wine.

“Can I have another one?”, he asks. Puppy eyed again.

Sam sighs. “Okay, but only one more.”

Jack drinks four mugs by the end of their trip. They’re all a little too drunk, rocking against each other when they walk home. It has gotten dark already and the music of the market fades the farer they go.

Dean is his usual whisky drunk, loud and outgoing, Sam tries to hide it and doesn’t dare to say anything. And Jack is the cutest type of drunk Sam has ever experienced. He’s giggling a lot, the Winchesters have him in their midst. Sam just wants to know he’s close and won’t slip and fall, but Dean has his hand on Jack’s butt and no one seems to care.

They pass some closed shops and there’s couples going home, too. Jack wishes everyone a Merry Fucking Christmas, what makes Dean laugh his dirty drunk neigh. Sam is a bit embarrassed and tells Jack way too loud it’s not nice to say the “F” word. Which makes Jack reply “But you and Dean say it all the time!!”

Which is right and Sam has no foundation to argue otherwise. That he’s drunk doesn’t help him have a serious conversation anyway.

When they reach the bunker, Sam notices that Dean must’ve also pinned a mistletoe over the entrance door. That’s why he just makes a move and pulls Dean close, both of them standing under it now.  He hisses “come on, mistletoe is mistletoe.”

Dean laughs and hugs Sam, of course he does, and kisses him. It’s not an innocent kiss after all, more a show off for poor Jack. When Dean’s about to fumble his way under Sam’s jacket, he pulls away.

“Why do you kiss under mistletoes?”, Jack asks, slurry from the wine. His eyes are big and glassy, his lips wet and plump.

“I mean they’re parasites and they’re also poisonous.”

“Come on, Jack. It’s just an old custom”, Dean babbles.

Sam interferes. “Actually the roots of this custom to swear oaths of peace date back to the iron ages and the so called kissing bough made of mistletoe became popular during the Tudor era in Great Britain, and-”

“Shut up, Sammy, no lectures today.”

“Actually, you have to kiss as many times as the mistletoe has berries. You have to pick each single one of them and kiss the lady until there’s no more berries left”, Sam continues, ignoring Dean’s objection.

“ Actually people just need an excuse to kiss people when they’re too chicken to do it under normal circumstances”, Dean concludes, seemingly proud to add something to the mistletoe mystery.

Jack doesn’t seem all too impressed still.

“Is that why the bunker is full of mistletoe boughs?”, he asks, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t dare to kiss each other?”

Sam heaves and Dean laughs.

“You shut up or I’ll give you another kick”, Sam hisses towards his brother.

But sometimes Dean has a “I don’t give a fuck, Sammy” attitude and says “No, kiddo, this is not about us .”

It’s visible Jack is trying to process the information, furrowing his brows and biting his lip.

“But there’s only you two and me living in the bunker, why would you---”

You can see the penny dropping. And Jack just giggles and approaches them, squeezing between the brothers. He looks at them and Sam’s mouth goes dry, while Dean smirks.

“Gotcha?”, he asks.

Instead of answering, Jack raises on tiptoes and kisses Dean on the mouth. There’s a short gasp, before Dean wraps his hands around Jack’s waist, lifts him up and kisses him like he hasn’t kissed Sam in a whole while.

Jack wants to be let down very soon, turns to Sam, tiptoes and kisses him too. Sam tastes fruit and wine and crispy air. He hugs him too, holds Jack close and when Jack’s soft, silky tongue meets his, he moans silently.

Before Sam loses it right here in front of his home, he rather pulls away, with a pounding heart and a very light head. Dean hugs them both, kisses Jack’s hair. Sam does too. Both focus on Jack, there’s nothing else they want now.

Jack sighs, then giggles.

“Can we do that again? Inside? Will you just do it when there’s a mistletoe?”

Sam laughs in relief.

“They’re evergreens.”

[jackandthesoulmates]

Yuletide

here, have some Winkline Mistletoe Fluff.

Read here or on AO3

Sam would later deny he had anything to do what happened to Jack when they went out to show him Lebanon’s christmas market.

It has snowed recently, and it promised to be a white Christmas this year. The decorations in the bunker were up already, Jack and Dean had baked too many cookies for three people to eat ever, which is why Jack donated around 4 lbs to a local charity organisation. He had also baked cookies for dogs and donated them to the animal shelter. He seemed to love Christmas, while the Winchesters didn’t celebrate much at any time of the year, given their hunter lifestyle. This year it was peaceful though.

Neither Sam nor Dean were surprised when Jack asked to go to the Christmas market with him. Both said yes. And later on, in a tiny whiskey delirium Dean wanted to take bets with Sam which one Jack would kiss under a mistletoe. Sam called him an idiot and wished, deep inside, Jack would choose him.

The next day, there were indeed several mistletoe hung up over random doors all around the bunker and Sam knew, it was Dean fucking with him and Jack. He tried to argue with Dean but all he did was kissing Sam under every mistletoe whenever they crossed one. Dean didn’t seem to care at least one bit that Jack saw them on several occasions.

And now they’re here. The air is crisp and tiny little snowflakes float in a gentle breeze. Jack is all dressed up with a red bobble hat, red gloves and a scarf. He knitted all of it on his own and he looks just adorable. His nose is pink from the cold and he burns his tongue on the mulled wine Dean and Sam allowed him to drink. He’s already full because he ate three slices of fruit loaf and apple pie. Dean has accompanied him on the apple pie of course, while Sam bought Christmas presents for his brother and Jack.

Jack takes another sip but he looks a little miserable.

Dean laughs in his mug.

“My tongue hurtph”, Jack says, looking a bit sad.

Sam also has to smile about it.

“Well, it’s hot, you could’ve known that beforehand.”

Dean is happy with his third mug of Citrus Whisky Punch and Sam himself sticks with Hot Chocolate (with a lot of Rum in it). Actually Sam doesn’t want to get tipsy but the cold and the delicious stuff the beverage booths make him drink more than usual.

“Let’s hope you won’t need your tongue for something serious today”, Dean says and gets a nudge from Sam. And a very emphatic kick.

“What do you mean?”, Jack asks and blows in his mug.

His lips do look good, though, Sam thinks. They’re full and pink and sometimes Sam thinks about it. The same way Dean does, how he admitted recently. Sam isn’t the jealous type, they both have the hots for Jack, it could be worse.

Dean smirks and gets another kick. This time Sam tries to interfere before Dean says any more stupid shit in front of the kid.

“He means, when you burnt your tongue, it will hurt. With spicy food for example.”

Jack looks at him with big blue puppy eyes.

“But Dean wanted to make a curry later!” he exclaims.

“The world is tough, kiddo”, Dean says and rubs his leg.

Gladly Jack’s indignation doesn’t last long and he finishes his mug of mulled wine.

“Can I have another one?”, he asks. Puppy eyed again.

Sam sighs. “Okay, but only one more.”

Jack drinks four mugs by the end of their trip. They’re all a little too drunk, rocking against each other when they walk home. It has gotten dark already and the music of the market fades the farer they go.

Dean is his usual whisky drunk, loud and outgoing, Sam tries to hide it and doesn’t dare to say anything. And Jack is the cutest type of drunk Sam has ever experienced. He’s giggling a lot, the Winchesters have him in their midst. Sam just wants to know he’s close and won’t slip and fall, but Dean has his hand on Jack’s butt and no one seems to care.

They pass some closed shops and there’s couples going home, too. Jack wishes everyone a Merry Fucking Christmas, what makes Dean laugh his dirty drunk neigh. Sam is a bit embarrassed and tells Jack way too loud it’s not nice to say the “F” word. Which makes Jack reply “But you and Dean say it all the time!!”

Which is right and Sam has no foundation to argue otherwise. That he’s drunk doesn’t help him have a serious conversation anyway.

When they reach the bunker, Sam notices that Dean must’ve also pinned a mistletoe over the entrance door. That’s why he just makes a move and pulls Dean close, both of them standing under it now.  He hisses “come on, mistletoe is mistletoe.”

Dean laughs and hugs Sam, of course he does, and kisses him. It’s not an innocent kiss after all, more a show off for poor Jack. When Dean’s about to fumble his way under Sam’s jacket, he pulls away.

“Why do you kiss under mistletoes?”, Jack asks, slurry from the wine. His eyes are big and glassy, his lips wet and plump.

“I mean they’re parasites and they’re also poisonous.”

“Come on, Jack. It’s just an old custom”, Dean babbles.

Sam interferes. “Actually the roots of this custom to swear oaths of peace date back to the iron ages and the so called kissing bough made of mistletoe became popular during the Tudor era in Great Britain, and-”

“Shut up, Sammy, no lectures today.”

“Actually, you have to kiss as many times as the mistletoe has berries. You have to pick each single one of them and kiss the lady until there’s no more berries left”, Sam continues, ignoring Dean’s objection.

“ Actually people just need an excuse to kiss people when they’re too chicken to do it under normal circumstances”, Dean concludes, seemingly proud to add something to the mistletoe mystery.

Jack doesn’t seem all too impressed still.

“Is that why the bunker is full of mistletoe boughs?”, he asks, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t dare to kiss each other?”

Sam heaves and Dean laughs.

“You shut up or I’ll give you another kick”, Sam hisses towards his brother.

But sometimes Dean has a “I don’t give a fuck, Sammy” attitude and says “No, kiddo, this is not about us .”

It’s visible Jack is trying to process the information, furrowing his brows and biting his lip.

“But there’s only you two and me living in the bunker, why would you---”

You can see the penny dropping. And Jack just giggles and approaches them, squeezing between the brothers. He looks at them and Sam’s mouth goes dry, while Dean smirks.

“Gotcha?”, he asks.

Instead of answering, Jack raises on tiptoes and kisses Dean on the mouth. There’s a short gasp, before Dean wraps his hands around Jack’s waist, lifts him up and kisses him like he hasn’t kissed Sam in a whole while.

Jack wants to be let down very soon, turns to Sam, tiptoes and kisses him too. Sam tastes fruit and wine and crispy air. He hugs him too, holds Jack close and when Jack’s soft, silky tongue meets his, he moans silently.

Before Sam loses it right here in front of his home, he rather pulls away, with a pounding heart and a very light head. Dean hugs them both, kisses Jack’s hair. Sam does too. Both focus on Jack, there’s nothing else they want now.

Jack sighs, then giggles.

“Can we do that again? Inside? Will you just do it when there’s a mistletoe?”

Sam laughs in relief.

“They’re evergreens.”

[worldsentwined]

So I know I did this one like...not too long ago, but I have some new wips since then and @storieswelove just tagged me to do this, so I figured I'd update it.

  rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of  how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips. (lol no I would have to tag WAY too many people.)

Since I did this not too long ago, I'm going to include links to a few of the ones I talked about back then. If you have more specific questions about those, feel free to send them!

Original works:

A Stitch In Time

Ailurophilia

Aunt Gardenia and the Dragon link

Before Waking (cyborg pancreas) link

Cyborg Apocalypse part 2

Fearless Writing Fiction - Year of Lost Memory

Hospital Killer

Hydrant of Life (technically only a wip in that it would need major edits)

Meeting of the DKP Squad

The Fourth River

The Inventor and the Imager

The Lie Aerie

The Waif and the Urchin Queen

Active Fanworks: The things in this section are sorted by fandom and are things I still think I would like to finish someday. Ask about them and you'll get the same kind of response as for the original works.

A Redtail's Dream

Oona and Puppy-Fox

The Queen's Thief

QT Bakery AU (Great was their loaf and greatly did it sustain them) link

QT Camping AU

The Thief of Attolia

Stand Still Stay Silent

Every little thing he does is magic (yes, I do still want to finish it)

OMG they were roommates

Yuri! On Ice

Inevitable Kitten Thing

Mostly Abandoned Projects: These are things that I either barely started, or are so old by now I just have no desire to really work on them again. You can ask me questions about them if you like, but honestly at this point if I get asked about one of them I will probably dump the whole text of it in a post and let Tumblr have it. Quality not guaranteed, length could be anything. If you want a summary of what it’s about before I post it, ask for that and then decide. Most of these are SSSS, a handful are aRTD, and there’s one lonely YOI fic down there which I have marked.

5 Times Reynir/Onni

31 - Flowers

47 - Creation

BED SHARING

Before It Was Cool Chapter 10

Behind the Scenes (1, 2, and WIP)

Date With Disaster

Dream Archipelago

Flower Girls

Ghosts of Yuletide

Hotakainen Feels

Jailbreak

Looking For Trouble

Madsen Snowballs

Mismatched Spoons

Objects of Affection

Onni/Bjarni Fluff

Palm Trees

Reynir/Onni Hair Fluff

Reynir/Onni Mage School

Shepherd’s Staff Extended

Shopping in Barcelona (YOI)

Speech

Speechless

The Second Date

Unwritten Love Letters

[witchyfashion]

Yule: A Celebration of Light and Warmth

There's just something magical about the Yuletide season, no matter where you live or who you are. As bright candlelight mingles with the smells of pine and warm cookies and we perform our yearly rituals of song and family gatherings, the spirit of peace and goodwill seems to reach the heart of even the most cynical Scrooge.

In the pages of Yule, Dorothy Morrison presents a wonderful potpourri of holiday lore from around the world and throughout history, along with fun crafts, delicious recipe seven a calendar of celebrations for every day in December.

Learn where the traditions of the season originated―for instance, did you know that the ringing of bells was meant to drive away the demons who inhabited the darkest days of the year? That leaving cookies for Santa mirrors the old tradition of leaving a loaf of bread on the table overnight to bring prosperity in the new year? That the Yule log can be traced back to the ancient Greeks?

Need a recipe for wassail or plum pudding? Tips for your holiday party? Want to make the season special by making your own decorative crafts and gifts? That's just a sampling of what's inside.

Best of all, Yule shows that the spirit of the season is universal and, however we chose to celebrate and worship, we can all join together in the spirit of peace, love, and harmony at this special time of year.

https://amzn.to/2Ze2Vcv