#Epiphany Eve

[huariqueje]

Les Galettes - Claude Monet , 1882.

French , 1840 - 1926

Oil on canvas

[emvidal]

It is the Twelfth Night.

Now, now the mirth comes With the cake full of plums, Where bean's the king of the sport here; Beside we must know, The pea also Must revel, as queen, in the court here.

[furmity]

Jultungel

The full moon shines on "Epiphany" Eve.

[transient-winds]

geniune question:

as a wind breaker fan who likes analyzing stuff, from a scale of 1 to 10, how ashamed should i be for being late in figuring out that the first kanji characters for both endo's and takiishi's last name are parallel to each other?

...nii-sensei what.

[stairnaheireann]

Christmas in Ireland

The greeting for ‘Happy Christmas’ in Irish is Nollaig Shona Duit or Nollaig Shona Daoibh (plural), the literal translation of this is ‘Happy Christmas to you’. If ‘Nollaig, Shona, Duit/Daoibh’ was literally translated, word for word, into English, it would be “Christmas, happy, to you”. Christmas is also a time for remembering the dead in Ireland with prayers being offered for deceased at…

[eve-is-obsessed]

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION: AKIO AS AN EYE AVATAR, ANTHY AS A WEB AVATAR. IT ALL MAKES SENSE ‼️🕸️👁️

[shroomiethefrogwhisperer]

GUYS I FOUND SOMETHING

Parasite Eve by Bring Me The Horizon has a Russian intro.

Belle Sisoski’s cover of Set Me Free pt. 2 has THE EXACT SAME INTRO. It’s just faster.

WHAT?!

[imaginalstudio]

60 days till my birthday and I can't lie, I'm fucking excited.

[doromoni]

Playing Offense | LN4

Last part of Off Time

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning, Groveling

A/N : Its hereeeeeee~ tell me what you think 🙏

Summary : You have pursued Lando's affection, yet he doesn't seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

Masterlist

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Chaotic, confusing, and downright crazy are words you choose to use to describe what you’ve experienced so far. In your years working in f1, it has never been this crazy. Your romantic life has never been this convoluted — the drama, the butterflies, and the boy problems that you swore you were too old to be facing; and it all started with Lando and ended with Norris.

Your time spent apart from Lando put things into perspective about your feelings and standing as an individual. You realized that you have been greedy with Lando— not possessive, no, but you were selfish. You knew what you’d expected from the English driver was unfair to him. It was not right to expect or demand him to return your feelings just because his family and friends said so.

You now truly understood that Lando was his person and he could make his own decisions. If he chooses to be with another person? so be it and you shouldn’t hold it against him or anyone. It hurts like hell to think about, but your emotions are your own and Lando shouldn’t pay for it.

You put Lando on a pedestal that glorified him in your sight. You knew that there was a part of you that liked the idea of dating Lando Norris the F1 McLaren driver — you knew that your love for him was genuine but a small part of you knew that the expensive cars and his fame played a part in it.

And that kind of love led you to want to build a friendship with the driver first… because honestly you only knew Lando on a surface level.

With your epiphany, it was decided that you’ll no longer avoid Lando to forget your feelings. Facing Lando head-on was the right thing to do. You were happy to kindle a friendship with the English driver instead.

Amazingly, this new mindset has brought peace and happiness within you. Call it cliche but the expectations of others for you to catch Lando was heavy and crushing. But now it was slowly toning down, a sigh of relief you didn’t know you held was released.

With your new outlook, you breezed through the paddock a mic on hand as you went towards the Red Bull motorhome for an interview with Max and Checo.

Fate was testing you today because just as you crossed the McLaren Motorhome you had crossed paths with no other than Lando Norris.

“Y/N!” You hear Lando’s voice echo out. Your heartbeat shot up as you held your breath and stopped your stride, now facing the driver.

Lando was filled with delight as he noticed you stop, your face held the dazzling smile that he missed dearly. He had expected you to simply walk past him like usual but to his excitement, you acknowledged his existence.

Lando jogged towards you. You quickly examined Lando from head to toe, he was dressed so fashionably as usual. He was clad in cream-colored hues from head to toe, even his watch and bracelets were monotone so the bright red band on his arm caught your attention. Your eyes widened at the realization… it was the lost hair tie that Flo gave you!

You've been looking for that hair tie for ages! You pushed that thought aside as Lando stopped right in front of you, a grin permanent on him.

“Hi, Lando. What’s up?” You greeted, making sure your voice was steady and clear. You looked up to the English driver, holding his gaze.

“ I just wanted to talk to you, how have you been? Mom said you got a promotion, congrats by the way! ” Lando uttered, as he held on to every word you were saying.

“I did! thank you. “ You beamed excitedly - more so on the fact that Lando remembered something about you. If you only knew how much Lando cherished everything and every piece of information he could associate with you.

“Yeah, I’ve been so deep in work I haven’t been much in touch with your family. I should probably give them a call” You trailed mostly to yourself

“You should, they’ve beaten me to a pulp and said that it was my fault that you were distant with them” Lando was joking with you as he nudged your shoulder gently.

“Oh I’m so sorry! but It IS your fault though” You bantered back, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you laughed.

“Well then, I apologize for inconveniencing you Ms. L/N” You could only laugh further at his goofiness.

“Are you going somewhere now? “ Lando’s question made you realize that you were indeed needed at Red Bull!

You hastily held your watch to your face, as the mic you held felt heavier in your hand making its presence known. You needed to be there in 2 minutes.

“you are, aren’t ya?” You pursed your lips and nodded begrudgingly, disappointment was painted all over both of your faces as your light-hearted conversation was cut short.

“Yeah, I need to be with Max and Checo. But, hey. It was nice catching up with you~ I’ll see you later Lando” You said bidding goodbye to the driver.

Before you could walk away, Lando held your forearm gently stopping you.

“Y/N… how about coffee after your interviews today?” Lando’s offer was a shock. A pleasant one, but a shock nonetheless. Your eyes widened and your cheeks felt hot under Lando’s intense stare.

“I - uh… I have plans with Oscar.” You saw him physically deflate, his shoulders dropping a notch.

Panic instantly spread through you as Lando’s hand fell to his side. A small frown was evident on his face— although he tried his best to hide it.

“But you can join us if you’d like!” You blurted out, clearly not thinking things through… Well, your best friend can deal with it later.

“Could I?” Lando eagerly asked, to which you could only nod and smile.

“Great! I’ll text you ok? I’ll pick you up, yeah? Bye Y/N! Have fun with work~ ” Lando was all smiles and yaps that you couldn’t put another word in.

“uh, ok bye…” You could only blink at the retreating form of Lando who kept waving at you as he entered the motorhome once more.

You stood rooted from where Lando left you, staring blankly at the doors of McLaren.

What the hell did you just do? You just invited Lando into Charles’ Hotel Room. You and Oscar were supposed to look after Leo while Charles and Alex went on date night.

You can now imagine the laughing faces of Charles and Oscar and the amused faces of Alex when you do tell them what you’ve done.

The groan escaped your mouth as everything sank in. You just hoped that Lando liked High School Musical and Descendants… because you were having a marathon and neither of them complaining was going to stop you.

You were so engrossed with your thoughts that you did not see the dark blue-clad driver nearing you — only noticing when he nudged you to the side and you felt yourself tumble a bit.

Laughter that wasn’t yours followed soon after.

“What are you doing, little duck??” The driver asked still laughing, but now helping you steady yourself.

“MAX! You scared me you shit! “ You groaned, raising a hand and started slapping the Red Bull driver on the arm.

“Woman! That hurts, stop it” Max held your hand in his to stop your intrusions. You tsk-ed at him and pulled your hand away from his grip.

“I came looking for you, dummy! you’re late. What are you doing here just standing” Max lowered his head by bending his waist— leveling his eye with yours.

you only pouted and avoided his eyes, not offering a response. Max’s sight fell towards the McLaren motorhome and his mouth opened into an O shape.

“Oh, I see. It’s Lando again. Oh…Y/N. I wished you weren’t this blind. Others’d love to have you” Max said, only muttering the last parts — escaping your ears.

“ What?? speak up, dude! I don’t know how Kelly puts up with you.”

“Y/N. Kelly and I broke up months ago.” Max said as his face scrunched at you as if non-verbally asking if you were stupid.

“What?! how?! why?!” You could only ask startled by the revelation.

“ Never mind that you nosy little thing. We’re late!” Max didn’t answer your question, but he pulled you in the direction of their motorhome.

While unbeknownst to you, Lando saw the entire thing with Max. His mind was foggy and running at full speed. The driver that was interested in you couldn’t be Max, right? Not his closest friend on the grid. It couldn’t be….

Were you the reason that Max and Kelly broke up? His fists clenched on his side and his teeth gritted with force. Lando and Max’s friendship was already soaked in tension with how the races were unfolding. They were in the battle for the championship title, the two drivers are both notorious for taking their standings and performance in all races very seriously. And now that McLaren has given Lando a competitive car and his eagerness to win intensifies — the tension only grows thicker.

But even if it was Max, Lando was sure that he would die first before he stepped aside. He wouldn’t quit when it came to you, not when you were finally talking to him.

Lando sees John in his peripherals coming near him.

“John, clear my schedule for tomorrow please” Lando stated his eyesight never left the position where you and Max were.

“What for? you have a meeting with your engineers.” John looked confused

“Move that to later tomorrow night. I’m feeling up for a paddle game with Max” Lando replied calmly, a calm that held underlying danger.

***

The interview at Red Bull had just finished — it was fun yet draining at the same time. Max had been very cooperative, even eager to play the games! Much to your surprise, even the other staff of Red Bull was shocked.

It was established that Max Verstappen hated media day. So what changed now?

You had no time to ponder more about the World Champion as you had so much more on your plate… like calling Osc and Charles about Lando.

You held your phone to your face as you FaceTimed the group chat with you, Oscar, Charles and Alex.

The line rang and rang, till they finally picked up.

You saw the face of Charles with Alex by his side— they were probably in the Ferrari Motorhome.

And Oscar seemed to be out running on the track, oops.

“Hi Y/N~ I love the look!” Alex gushed as soon as she popped on the screen

“Thank you, Alex!” You gushed back.

“What is this about? — I’m kinda in the middle of something” Oscar panted as he kept running

“Ok, I’ll make this quick, and don’t judge me Ok?” You started.

“Lando is coming to Charles’ to babysit Leo,” You said in one breath.

“WHAT?!”

“HOW?!”

“OH MY!”

They all reacted with surprise.

“I thought that you were avoiding him? What happened to that, huh?” Oscar was now standing still. While The couple was sat there listening intently

“I know I know…. but it just happened ok? He asked me out for coffee and I said we had plans. He looked so disappointed and I panicked and I invited him to join us. I didn’t even say where and what we’re doing!”You explained. Just like you predicted before, the two men burst out laughing while Alex smiled amused by what you’ve done.

“ Y/N, I swear! you’re a mess ~ I love it! But before you could ask. Yes, he can come to our room” Charles whizzed out, now wiping the rouge tear from his eye.

“ Ughhhh, I’ll be a third wheel then??” Oscar groaned at the realization. You could only roll your eyes.

“Shut up, and as if! Bye, guys! see y’all later I guess. Osc don’t forget to bring snacks!” As soon as you said that you ended the call.

You just wished that Lando wouldn’t get bored or expect something big from you.

And Funny enough, Lando did enjoy your cozy hangout with Oscar in Charles’ Hotel room. He was now like a magnet to you, and you welcomed it with a smile. Lando was sweet and caring and a blast to have around. Lando and Oscar’s relationship had also strengthened— much to McLaren’s joy.

Your duo with Oscar now became a trio with Lando. Oscar argues that Lando was only there because of you — but you begged to differ.

As you spent more time with the English driver, you uncovered more of his habits and quirks that only close friends knew. But of course, Lando had his flaws, ones that you were too blind to notice before — the flaws that solidified his humanity to you.

Lando Norris was not perfect and that was more than ok because you were far from it yourself. At the end of the day, you got the know the real Lando Norris, not the Formula 1 driver, but the kid who grew up in Glastonbury who loved gaming with his dad and watching his mom cook.

Surprisingly, You had fallen easily into a routine with Lando. Your life now was once again filled with Lando Norris’ presence. Lando would pick you up and drop you off every race weekend. Then you’d spend off days together either with Oscar, his family or just the two of you lounging around or going out.

True enough your relationship with Lando had started to bloom into something in the line between friends and something more.

“Lan, could you please set the table up? Dinner’s almost ready” You shouted for Lando to hear.

It was after a particularly not-so-great race for Lando. He and Max had a collision that ended badly for the both of them — but more on Lando. You could feel the anger radiating out of the English driver when you saw him earlier.

He begged you to come to his unit and spend the night. He said he wanted comfort and your company today.

You were finishing up the dish you were making on the counter when you felt strong arms caging you in from the back.

You suddenly grew tense and your heart skipped beats, as you felt Lando’s heat permeating in your back. His cologne smelled divine when you got a whiff of it when he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

“Lan? Are you ok?” You started speaking carefully, not entirely sure what to do. Lando’s arms then went to encircle your waist, clutching you closer.

“Y/N…. you’d choose me right?” Lando’s question startled you and at the same time confused you.

You turned yourself in his arms, you were now facing each other. Your faces were so close that the thought of kissing him senselessly fogged your brain.

“W-what do you mean?” you asked.

“You’d choose me over Max right?” Lando asked his eyes traveling from your eyes then to your lips— lingering there.

“Over Max? What does he ha-“ you asked very confused, his proximity not helping you think at all.

“Please say It’s me, Y/N… please” Lando begged, his hand now cradling your jaw.

“I-, yes. It’s you, Lando. Always” You finally relented.

And at your answer, Lando hastily crashes his lips on yours like a man starving and you were there happily taking it.

You knew that you shouldn’t get your hopes up and assume that this was Lando telling you that he loved you or held feelings for you. It wasn’t a done deal till you heard the words right out of Lando’s mouth.

You’re waiting for the words “ Would you be my girlfriend” out of his mouth.

But alas, you were just a girl and you couldn’t help yourself to yearn for affection and attention from the boy that held your heart. And you weren’t going to lie either

No matter how much you tried to maintain your friendship with Lando Norris — you were helpless to his charms. And now that he was showing some semblance of returning your affections… well you were doomed.

Yet life is still a bitch, it can never be sunshine and rainbows all the time. Because the time came when some lines between friendships were crossed. Can you be just friends when you know each other’s tastes?

You and Lando were tiptoeing on the status of your relationship. Are you just friends??

Rumors regarding relationships in the world of F1 are brutal. One minute everything is quiet and peaceful and the next second you get the media all up in your face and you’ve gotten a call from your supervisor asking wtf is going on and why is your name trending.

Well, how could it not? It was only free practice When you were live on air in the paddock walking through the pit lane and you and your cameraman breezed through the McLaren garage and captured Lando’s most recent fling, all up in his face. The two were making a scene, as the mechanics tapped their feet and Andrea Stella fuming on the sideline. The entire situation screamed drama.

You felt moronic. You felt stupid that you thought that you had something special with Lando. Turns out you were just a game to him. Now that He’s got you at arm's length once again, it’s time to toss you out for a new side piece.

You eyed the pair up and down, an eyebrow raised- hurt and anger ebbed in your heart. But you knew how to be professional and kept your emotions and expressions in check. Smiling your most dazzling smile as you tried to recover and lead the audience and camera away. Just as you gave them one last glance, your eyes caught the eyeline of Lando.

His entire body grew tense at the sight of your presence. Your face was blank and your eyes held disbelief and hurt. Lando knew that what you saw was bad.

And it did look bad. Magiu was pushing herself into Lando’s embrace catching him off guard, her hands held his face as she beamed up at him and bid him good luck. He was in shock! how come that girl was even in here?! He knew for sure that he cut ties with her and left everything at that.

He knew that you would think that he was back to his old ways. Panic struck in Lando as he saw you walking away from him. Not thinking things through, he pushed Magui to the side as he sprinted past every mechanic and engineer on the way towards you. It didn’t sink into his mind that you were live on TV.

“So, anyway Crofty back to what you were asking. You asked th—“ You said into the mic that was in your hand as you walked towards Max’s garage in Red Bull when suddenly your path was blocked by no other than Lando Norris.

Your eyes shoot wide as you see him approach you directly. What is he doing?! Even your cameraman didn’t know whether to pan to another frame or just keep rolling… and to everyone’s relief, he chose the latter.

“Y/N! It wasn’t what you think it was! please believe me” Lando begged, still not caring for the camera.

“Lando! What are you doing?! we’re on air! Stop it. You’re being childish!” You hissed lowly at the English driver. You signaled the cameraman to pan to another commentator, which he thankfully followed.

“No! Y/N. I need to know that you believe me. I didn’t bring her here! She was just there and it caught me off guard. Y/N, I swear … Please look at me” Lando continued to beg you to look at him as you avoided meeting his eyes.

You could sense that a lot of people were watching you and a lot were questioning what the hell was happening.

“Lando. Not now! I’m working. If you have any ounce of respect for me, you’ll leave and we’ll talk later.” your teeth gritted

“I swear, it was all a mistake! Y/N! I Love you!” Lando pleaded with you.

“Prove it” Your voice held Ice as you stared down at Lando — anger still consuming your system.

***

“Delivery for Ms. L/N!” Your hands instantly stopped typing on your laptop as you looked up and away from the screen.

There stood a delivery guy holding the biggest bouquet of White Gardenias and Baby breaths you have ever laid your eyes on. You couldn’t help but catch your breath at its beauty. It was magnificent— almost ethereal even.

“Wow, that’s big” You were suddenly startled by the voice that came from inside your office. You forgot that Oscar was there on your couch.

“Holy Sh- I forgot you were here!” You exclaimed at your appointed best friend. You stood up and went towards the delivery guy thanking him before he left.

The flowers weighed heavy in your arms. Even so, you ducked down and gave it a sniff and It smelled heavenly. You placed the flowers inside the vase that resided in your office — a new piece of furniture that you were “forced” to acquire given the amount of flowers you were suddenly receiving.

“How many has it been?” Oscar asked as he stretched his arms, now standing up and was all over your flowers.

“Stop! Get your gremlin hands off” You quickly swatted the Australian’s hand. Oscar only pouted as he returned to his seat

“ That’s every weekend for every race week so far,” Oscar said, answering his question.

Your smile widened as your eyes caught sight of the card that usually came with it.

“ Hoping this brightens your day, just as you brighten mine 🤍 I love you” - L

You swore that your lips were going to burst at the seams with the size of the smile that was on it. You feel the butterflies making their way to your stomach. You felt the heat inching its way to your cheeks and down your neck.

Lovesick as you may be, you were not foolish enough to make things easier for the English McLaren Driver. With everything you went through? He could sweat a little… or that’s what you say.

“Is it from Lando?” Oscar asked once more.

“it just says L. So I'm not sure… “ You trailed, obviously acting dumb.

“Uhuh, who else could it be?” The Australian deadpanned, giving you a playful glare.

“Hey! It could be from Lewis” You joked back. This only earned a scoff from Oscar.

“Yeah! like you could get Lewis” Oscar sassed

.You were about to rebut when a knock was heard from the door.

Then suddenly popped in a mop of curly brown hair that you would kill to run your hand through.

“Osc, Zac wanted a word with you. Like right now, he doesn’t look happy” Lando spoke, which prompted the Australian to bolt out of your office.

You felt your heart beating in your throat, as your eyes set on Lando’s bewitching green eyes.

Swallowing a breath, you tried to casually talk to the driver who was now smiling brightly at you. You could swear that you see Lando’s gaze soften as he looked at you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly, almost a bit shy. Your eyes never leave Lando’s.

“Hi” He spoke just as softly— his smile never breaking and it only grew sweeter by the second. Right there and then, you could tell that you fell for him even more.

After the issue of Magui had subsided a month ago, Lando had set his heart to finally court you officially — much to your glee. Lando has more than proved himself worthy of the affection you’ve had for him.

“Uhm, what did Oscar do?” You were the first to back down and break eye contact — because you knew any longer, you’d jump him.

“Nothing, I just needed him to leave. I wanted to talk to you. ” Lando uttered, his smile growing sheepish. His hand fidgeted his nape.

“Oh! Did you want to talk to me? What for?” You asked with hidden giddiness. Your fingers twisting in front of you with nervousness.

“Mom and Dad are throwing a party and I know you’re already invited… but I was hoping that you’d go with me” The British driver trailed, self-doubt and unease evident in his voice, yet he was still determined and he stood his ground. His emerald eyes never fell.

Slowly, a smile spread on your face as you slowly went near the driver and took his hand in yours — practically catching the both of you off guard. You with your bravery and Lando with your sudden contact after weeks of avoiding his touch.

You could physically see the weight lifting off Lando’s shoulders from your touch — A grin appears on his face. You feel him clutch your hand tighter - almost as if checking if it were real. His thumb glided softly against your skin, sending goosebumps up your nape. Making the butterflies in your stomach crazier than ever.

“You mean like as your date?” You uttered coyly, your hand now entangled with Lando’s. Your eyes drifted to where he held you — the sight fascinated you. You always knew that his hand was big, but now as it covered yours entirely— you understood just how much his dwarfed yours.

Yet suddenly, you feel your face slowly being tilted up, as you feel Lando’s fingers guiding your eyes to meet his.

“I meant as my girlfriend” You were speechless once again, you knew that this was coming but that didn’t make it any easier to process.

“Y/N is that a yes? Hmm?” Lando’s hand then found its way to tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt yourself freeze under his intimate action, this smooth fucker knew what he was doing!

“ I would love to be your girlfriend,” You said softly as you went on your tip toes reaching for his lips with yours in a soft kiss. His arms instantly wrapped around your waist — pulling you further into him.

“Fucking Finally. Y/N L/N, I love you.” Lando whispered in between your kisses.

“Oh, yeah… I got you another present” Lando uttered as he glanced at the table behind you.

You reluctantly followed his eyesight.

“ Lando Norris … you did not. That's a fucking Birkin!” You exclaimed as you set your eyes on the Orange and Neon Green stitched handbag worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. And the one he got you just screamed: “Made by Lando Norris”. Your eyes remained wide and mouth gaping… you knew what a Birkin Bag meant when given by a man, it meant to symbolize a mark. Lando Norris was marking you and showing to the world that you were his.

“Happy first day to us, Baby” Lando whispered mischievously, as he captured your lips once more.

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 : open for tag request

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[celebratingtheseasons]

Happy Twelfth Night of Christmas! Eve of the Epiphany.

[netherfeildren]

Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

New Year’s Eve follow up

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 

“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 

New Year’s Eve follow up

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[huariqueje]

Forced Stop - Joaquin Carreño , 2022.

Mexican , b. 1990s -

Gouache

[ephemii]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞! 🦇☁️🌙

⭑genre: fluff, romantic or platonic

⭑pairing: lilia/yuu

⭑cw: none!

✶notes: haven't posted in a hot second! got very busy with college, but i decided to write this as a treat! enjoy~

A long day had passed once again, leaving a relieving calm to wash over the campus. Golden afternoon glow gave way to lavender haze, a watercolor meld of dwindling daylight and the bleeding eve of night. It was on the last dredges of days like these that Yuu would be shedding their stress and aiming to unwind by themselves, weary after dealing with the troubles of their ever considerate headmage and two loveably idiotic best friends.

.... Well, that's what they would have loved to be doing, anyways. Intead, they were several dozen feet off the ground.

Their hands grip onto those of their fae friend like a lifeline, muscles pulled taut and straining as they fight to maintain a secure hold while they dangle precariously, reeling from the contrast of their fear for their life and Lilia's boisterous laughter ringing across the quiet horizon. If it were any other situation, Yuu could have mustered the praises that compiled at the tip of their tongue, admiring the way the deep magenta of his irises glinted like precious stones and the demure sunlight reflecting from beneath his flowing onyx locks of hair— alas, they were left to reserve their strength for the periodic yelps and shouts they emitted any moment they looked beneath them and the impressive height Lilia had managed to guide them through. They had never once thought that they would have such an epiphany— to realize that they had taken gravity itself for granted, they had to truly commend Lilia for making that a possibility to begin with.

"A youthful smile does you more justice, my little bat," Lilia giggled cheekily, his fangs glinting brilliantly, "why, you're on top of the world!"

"Set me DOWN, Lilia!!" Yuu ignored his spirited jargon, pleading vehemently.

Lilia’s laughter echoed like music in the crisp air, each note teasing and light. “But why would I do that when the view is simply exquisite?” He gestured expansively, as if presenting his life's work in an art gallery. Yuu screamed, scrambling to latch their now empty hand onto his sleeve, feeling like their heart had caught in their throat. Below them, the sprawling campus looked like a patchwork quilt stitched together with fading hues of the day, and once again they inwardly cursed the fae for not giving them an opportunity to admire it peacefully.

"Lilia, for Sevens' sake!!" Yuu clenched their teeth, the world swirling beneath them. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time!” they protested, their heart racing as they nearly whined in fear.

“Oh, come now! A little thrill never hurt anyone.” Lilia’s hair fluttered against a pleasant gust of wind, a flurry of iridescent colors that glinted in the twilight. He reveled in the sensation of weightlessness, the sheer excitement invigorating him. “You’ve been cooped up for far too long. A bit of adventure is good for the soul!”

Yuu squinted at the horizon, trying to focus on anything other than the dizzying height. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me relax, not give me a heart attack!”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lilia leaned in closer. Yuu looked up at him, eyes boring into his pleadingly— yet all their hopes were quickly shattered the moment his smile widened.

“How about this for a little fun?” Before Yuu could process what he meant, Lilia tossed them upward with a swift, strong heave.

Stars damn it all, they forgot he was that strong.

Yuu’s scream cut through the air as they soared for a split second, staring down at Lilia with wide, bewildered eyes. They didn't know whether to feel warmth or sheer anger at the way he laughed so exuberantly, looking like the very inspiration of joy, painted onto the backdrop of a calm autumn. Just as panic set in, and they were ready to pray to whatever gods safeguarded Twisted Wonderland, Lilia caught them with readily open arms, wrapping them up securely with his legs around them. Yuu grunted at the impact, gasping at the immediate relief rushing through them in dizzying waves.

“Surprise!” he giggled, clearly delighted by their shocked expression. “What did I tell you about living a little? How was that for a ride?”

Heart pounding, Yuu buried their face in his shoulder as they clung to him like a lifeline, mortified but unable to suppress a small, breathless laugh.

“You’re insane!” they lamented.

“Oh, but what is life without a healthy dose of heedlessness?” Lilia grinned onto their cheek, holding them tightly as they swayed gently in the air, “Look at you, all flustered. Isn’t it just the most exhilarating feeling?” he said with a reverence that made them wonder if he truly worshiped the thrill of the chase. The contrast of his deft fingers brushing through their hair caused a small shudder to wrack their limbs.

Yuu could feel their cheeks heat up as they took a deep breath, their initial fear giving way to a strange titillation. “I mean, maybe...." they admitted, peering out from their hiding spot. “...as long as you always catch me.”

Lilia processed their words for one quiet moment... Then he grinned, something more warm and tender as he looked down at them. Yuu averted their gaze, to which he chuckled quietly, that deep, melodious and quick staccato, his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Then what say you to another round? I promise to catch you again, but you have to let go of that fear!”

With a mix of trepidation and enthralment, Yuu nodded, their heart racing in anticipation. Even then, they smiled delicately— No matter how hard they tried, they could never say no to him.

while i'm not inexperienced in writing, it's still a bit exciting finally writing for twst! i have a lot more in store, and hopefully i can finish them up and post them soon if time allows :] thank you for reading! 🤍🩷🤍

[lillotte17]

Also also, since I seem to be incapable of shutting up, and because I haven't actually seen anyone else saying it:

Crowely offering/tempting Aziraphale with the ox ribs...it's a direct parallel to Adam and the creation of Eve. Adam's ribs are used to create his counterpart/lover/partner, and Crowley is doing the same thing. Up until now, he's had his suspicions about Aziraphale not being like the other angels, but in the Job flashback, we really see him testing the waters.

'Will you just do as you're told and watch an innocent man lose everything?'

'Will you notice what I did to the goats?'

'Will you trust me not to hurt the children?'

And then finally with the ribs: 'Are you like me? Do you take pleasure from all the things that humans are capable of creating? Do you see their potential? Aren't we the same?'

And Aziraphale accepts.

Which of course eventually leads to him lying to the other angels and his own epiphany about not quite being like the rest of them.

Naturally, it's not an exact correlation. Aziraphale already had those inclinations, so Crowley isn't really 'creating' him as his counterpart, but he is creating the opportunity for understanding and a chance to see the ways they already resemble one another. He's creating the possibility of their eventual partnership (romantic and/or otherwise).

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Emily by L. M. Montgomery

Emily Starr never knew what it was to be lonely—until her beloved father died. Now Emily's an orphan, and her mother's snobbish relatives are taking her to live with them at New Moon Farm. She's sure she won't be happy. Emily deals with stiff, stern Aunt Elizabeth and her malicious classmates by holding her head high and using her quick wit. Things begin to change when she makes friends: with Teddy, who does marvelous drawings; with Perry, who's sailed all over the world with his father yet has never been to school; and above all, with Ilse, a tomboy with a blazing temper. Amazingly, Emily finds New Moon beautiful and fascinating. With new friends and adventures, Emily might someday think of herself as Emily of New Moon.

Savvy by Ingrid Law

For generations, the Beaumont family has harbored a magical secret. They each possess a "savvy" -a special supernatural power that strikes when they turn thirteen. Grandpa Bomba moves mountains, her older brothers create hurricanes and spark electricity . . . and now it's the eve of Mibs's big day.

As if waiting weren't hard enough, the family gets scary news two days before Mibs's birthday: Poppa has been in a terrible accident. Mibs develops the singular mission to get to the hospital and prove that her new power can save her dad. So she sneaks onto a salesman's bus . . . only to find the bus heading in the opposite direction. Suddenly Mibs finds herself on an unforgettable odyssey that will force her to make sense of growing up-and of other people, who might also have a few secrets hidden just beneath the skin.

The Last Apprentice by Joseph Delaney

Thomas Ward is the seventh son of a seventh son and has been apprenticed to the local Spook. The job is hard, the Spook is distant and many apprentices have failed before Thomas. Somehow Thomas must learn how to exorcise ghosts, contain witches and bind boggarts. But when he is tricked into freeing Mother Malkin, the most evil witch in the County, the horror begins...

The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg

How has Mrs. Olinski chosen her sixth-grade Academic Bowl team? She had a number of answers. But were any of them true? How had she really chosen Noah and Nadia and Ethan and Julian? And why did they make such a good team? It was a surprise to a lot of people when Mrs. Olinski's team won the sixth-grade Academic Bowl contest at Epiphany Middle School. It was an even bigger surprise when they beat the seventh grade and the eighth grade, too. And when they went on to even greater victories, everyone began to ask: How did it happen?

It happened at least partly because Noah had been the best man (quite by accident) at the wedding of Ethan's grandmother and Nadia's grandfather. It happened because Nadia discovered that she could not let a lot of baby turtles die. It happened when Ethan could not let Julian face disaster alone. And it happened because Julian valued something important in himself and saw in the other three something he also valued.

Mrs. Olinski, returning to teaching after having been injured in an automobile accident, found that her Academic Bowl team became her answer to finding confidence and success. What she did not know, at least at first, was that her team knew more than she did the answer to why they had been chosen.

The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor

When Alyss Heart, newly orphaned heir to the Wonderland throne, flees through the Pool of Tears to escape her murderous Aunt Redd, she finds herself lost and alone in Victorian London. Befriended by an aspiring author named Lewis Carrol, Alyss tells the violent, heartbreaking story of her young life. Alyss trusts this author to tell the truth so that someone, somewhere will find her and bring her home. But he gets the story all wrong. He even spells her name incorrectly!

Fortunately, Royal Bodyguard Hatter Madigan knows all too well the awful truth of Alyss' story - and he's searching every corner of our world to find the lost princess and return her to Wonderland, to battle Redd for her rightful place as the Queen of Hearts.

Misty by Marguerite Henry

"You'll never catch the Phantom," says Grandpa. "That horse is fast as the wind. She's escaped from every roundup on the island!" But Paul and Maureen want the beautiful wild mare for their very own. "I'm going to capture her myself," says Paul.

When Paul finally overtakes the Phantom, he makes a surprising discovery. Running at her side is a brand-new, silvery-gray colt - Misty!

East by Edith Pattou

Rose has always been different.

Since the day she was born, it was clear she had a special fate. Her superstitious mother keeps the unusual circumstances of Rose's birth a secret, hoping to prevent her adventurous daughter from leaving home... but she can't suppress Rose's true nature forever.

So when an enormous white bear shows up one cold autumn evening and asks teenage Rose to come away with it--in exchange for health and prosperity for her ailing family--she readily agrees.

Rose travels on the bear's broad back to a distant and empty castle, where she is nightly joined by a mysterious stranger. In discovering his identity, she loses her heart-- and finds her purpose--and realizes her journey has only just begun.

The Midwife's Apprentice by Karen Cushman

The girl known only as Brat has no family, no home, and no future until she meets Jane the Midwife and becomes her apprentice. As she helps the sharp-tempered Jane deliver babies, Brat--who renames herself Alyce--gains knowledge, confidence, and the courage to want something from life: "A full belly, a contented heart, and a place in this world." Medieval village life makes a lively backdrop for the funny, poignant story of how Alyce gets what she wants.

Circle of Magic by Tamora Pierce

With her gift of weaving silk thread and creating light, Sandry is brought to the Winding Circle community. There she meets Briar, a former thief who has a way with plants; Daja, an outcast gifted at metalcraft; and Tris, whose connection with the weather unsettles everyone, including herself. At Winding Circle, the four misfits are taught how to use their magic - and to trust one another. But then disaster strikes their new home. Can Sandry weave together four kinds of magical power and save herself, her friends, and the one place where they've ever been accepted?

Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

Catherine feels trapped. Her father is determined to marry her off to a rich man--any rich man, no matter how awful.

But by wit, trickery, and luck, Catherine manages to send several would-be husbands packing. Then a shaggy-bearded suitor from the north comes to call--by far the oldest, ugliest, most revolting suitor of them all.

Unfortunately, he is also the richest.

Can a sharp-tongued, high-spirited, clever young maiden with a mind of her own actually lose the battle against an ill-mannered, piglike lord and an unimaginative, greedy toad of a father?

Deus! Not if Catherine has anything to say about it!

[stairnaheireann]

Christmas in Ireland

The greeting for ‘Happy Christmas’ in Irish is Nollaig Shona Duit or Nollaig Shona Daoibh (plural), the literal translation of this is ‘Happy Christmas to you’. If ‘Nollaig, Shona, Duit/Daoibh’ was literally translated, word for word, into English, it would be “Christmas, happy, to you”. Christmas is also a time for remembering the dead in Ireland with prayers being offered for deceased at…