#cs season three

[000marie198]

Oh-! I get why this Chaos Sonic was so much easier to beat!

Listen, Beepo could talk, this one can't. One of the major reasons Sonic was unable to make a dent on Beepo wasn't just its battle prowess and agility. It was the words!

Chaos Sonic constantly kept saying things that specifically either riled Sonic up or hurt him emotionally. He couldn't focus on the fight because he was focusing on what he heard, and CS struck to kill with what he said.

Words hurt more than swords afterall

[takadasaiko]

I've been rewatching Once Upon a Time lately and nearly a decade later, Quiet Minds still pisses me off. It's like Eddy and Adam went 'Hmm. We want Hook to be with Emma. What's the quickest and least thought-out way we can get Neal out of the way?' and instead of employing their reasoning and writing skills or even half a thought towards the deeper story being told they just said 'I know! We'll have Rumple absorb him, drive him mad, and then fast forward through reconciliations and bypass true emotion for cheap tricks! It'll be great!'

Bloody absurd. Only reason I bothered to continue on past that episode on the rewatch is for OutlawQueen. Because heaven knows they didn't know what to do with Rumple or Rumbelle for the most part after this.

[inke-ri]

idk if it's me being up at 3am during a night shift but something about the pilot of Once Upon a Time still really punches me in the gut, especially when the music picks up, the clock hand finally moves, and Henry smiles.

[r3starttt]

STOCKINGS

PAIRING: Abby x Reader

SUMMARY: You made her a stocking

CW: tlou universe. sfw. fluff. lev included!! cs Abby is such a boy mom and ughh cute.

NOTE: For this fic Abby did not try to go and look for the fireflies again so the last fight with Ellie did not happen.

*Can you tell I love acts of service... can you tell I wrote this while listening to music for indigo...

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @lott6i @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

The cold floor hit your bare feet as you tiptoed your way toward a small chair near the bed, reaching for an old hoodie to shield yourself from the chill. Abby was still asleep, her steady breathing and quiet snoring letting you know she was deeply wrapped in the comfort of her cocoon. You didn’t have much time, though—she would wake the second the bed grew too cold and her arm could no longer find you, desperately pulling you closer to warm herself.

She lay on her stomach, one arm draped across the mattress, reaching into the warmth you’d left behind. The white sheet beneath her, its soft folds matching the pine-green ones above, held her gently. Loose strands of hair from her thick braid fell against the sides of her face, barely brushing her skin with each soft exhale. Her eyebrows, usually so bold, were peacefully soft, and her lips—plump and rosy—mirrored the flush of her cheeks. You couldn’t resist leaving a soft kiss near her ear, a gentle touch before you left the room.

Each step toward the door made you regret not putting on socks last night—maybe Abby’s old slippers would do. With your steps now messy and hesitant, you made your way downstairs. The worn wood creaked slightly beneath you, the house itself groaning in the quiet of the morning.

You had eventually made yourselves comfortable in this small house nestled in the heart of the woods, large enough for the three of you—Abby, Lev, and yourself. Together, you had worked tirelessly to make it a safe and secure place, not just from the infected, but from other, more dangerous people. You had made it a home.

You ensured that everyone felt welcome, particularly Lev. You took every opportunity to talk with him, to teach him what he hadn’t yet learned, and to share the things you loved—books, music, art—while helping him discover his own interests. And with Abby, your love deepened with every day she returned from her small patrols, always bringing back something for Lev—a plushie or a trinket—and for you, perhaps a new vinyl to play. She would ask you to show her the record, and later, you would listen together, the soothing classical music filling the house while you shared a quiet dinner.

As the months passed and your future materialized in the present, you found yourself gathering small gifts. It would be Lev’s first holiday, and Abby’s too, at least with you. The first time you would all celebrate Christmas together. You wanted it to be special, a way of thanking them for everything they had done for you. All the words Lev had shared when he realized you were just as broken as he was, and how, despite it all, he allowed you into his life. And Abby—your way of giving her the love she had always shown you, in the form of the most precious gift.

You knew Abby would appreciate it—celebrating the season was something she had learned from her father. She had told you once that receiving a gift was the way she could feel loved, a reminder that she was not a monster. And you wanted to show her that—wanted to remind her that she was seen, that she was loved, and that you all had each other.

Since the weather had turned colder, you’d offered to join in the patrols, even begging Abby to let you go outside. She always insisted it was too dangerous, but you knew you could take care of yourself, and somehow, you managed to sneak out on occasion. You gathered small things—some fabric, trinkets, and a few essentials. And when Abby took Lev to care for the animals you’d gathered, or when she napped after lunch, you’d use your quiet time to craft their gifts.

It wasn’t too difficult, given that they were often busy—Abby tending to the animals or decorating the little pine tree you’d dragged home from the nearby woods, with Abby’s approval, of course. You had to be careful, though, not to trust too easily that they would be distracted. But it worked.

The sight before you made your stomach flutter, like a child eager with excitement. Three stockings hung from the mantle, each chosen with care—yours in the middle. Beneath the homemade tree, a few gifts waited for everyone—unwrapped, because there wasn’t enough paper, but neatly arranged, placed with care just as the stockings were.

The next task was to light the fire, to warm the house and prepare breakfast, just as you had for months. It was small, but it had become part of your routine—after all, lunch and dinner were a family affair, something you all shared.

Once the food was ready, you made your way upstairs. The light from the cloudy sun streamed through the windows, warming the house with its yellow hues. You returned to the bed, noting that Abby was still asleep—though not for long, it seemed, as her lips were slightly parted and her breathing had shifted into quiet mumbling. You sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and brushing the stray hairs from her face before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Abby... Abs—baby?" you murmured, tracing soft circles on her back, the rhythm calming her as her mumbling slowed.

"Abby..."

Her eyes opened slowly, clearly disoriented by the nightmare and the sudden waking, but you were quick to soothe her. "Shh, I’m here... It’s alright. You were dreaming."

She grasped your hand, groaning quietly before turning to face you, her face flushed with the softness of sleep, her lips plump and cheeks full. The sight made you smile, warmth blooming in your chest.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured, trying to pull you back into bed.

You chuckled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Not yet..."

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Is Lev awake yet?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she rubbed her eyes.

"I haven’t checked, but... probably not," you hummed in response, pausing to study her, to savor this moment of quiet contentment with the woman you loved. A slow, peaceful morning like this was a dream come true for many—and here you were, living it.

"Breakfast’s ready," you added, patting her stomach lightly.

You leaned in for a kiss, despite her typical aversion to those unshowered, still-groggy moments. But you couldn’t care less—she was the woman you loved, in all her unrefined beauty, even in these fleeting moments.

"See you downstairs, alright?" you murmured, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

She nodded, but you knew her well.

"Abigail... I’m serious."

She laughed quietly, rolling over and letting her arms fall to her sides as she stretched out. You left the door open as you moved to the curtains, letting the light in while ensuring Abby wouldn’t fall asleep again. You then made your way to Lev’s room, the blue walls of his space greeting you.

He was tangled in blankets, his back to you, but you gently brushed his shoulder, calling out in a soft whisper.

"Lev... morning."

"Morning," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

You smiled, the privilege of caring for this young boy—who still had so much ahead of him—filling your heart.

"Breakfast is ready, alright? Take your time." You caressed his shoulder before stepping out of his room, hearing Abby’s groan as she dramatically climbed from the bed.

"Did you take my shoes?" she called out loudly, too much for the quiet of the morning.

"Yep! I took your slippers," you teased, and Abby laughed quietly in response. She was falling in love with you all over again.

You went downstairs, retracing your steps from earlier, and settled on the couch, waiting for them to come down. Neither of them knew about the stockings or the gifts—it was supposed to be a small, intimate gesture, a simple way of celebrating the season. Just making food together, exchanging small self-made gifts—maybe a letter.

But as much as you were excited, there was a hint of anxiety too. What if it was too much? What if they didn’t like what you had chosen?

"What is that?" Abby’s voice broke you from your thoughts, and you turned to find her standing at the foot of the stairs, still in her pajamas, holding the railing for support.

Her eyes, illuminated in the soft morning light, met yours—she looked so precious.

"Did you seriously make us a stocking?" she whispered, so amused she barely seemed to believe it. Maybe she thought she was still dreaming.

"I did," you said, standing and moving toward her.

"You told me once that you wished someone loved you enough to make you one. I do... I love you."

The words hit her, and you watched as she fought back tears, her jaw clenching, her teeth biting at her bottom lip before she looked back at you.

"I didn’t... Come here." She opened her arms, and you stepped into them, feeling the weight of the moment settle in.

She buried her face in your neck, wrapping her arms around you as all her emotions—fear, love, anxiety—washed over her.

You were real, and so was this. She had someone who listened, who remembered her words, who cared enough to create something special—something that said, "I love you."

And as much as she feared that this day might bring painful memories of her father, the love that surrounded her now was taking up more space. This was hers—this love was real, and it was for her.

You felt Lev coming downstairs, his confused expression slowly softening as understanding spread across his face. You had told him about the stockings, explained what they meant one evening when you and Abby had talked about Christmas traditions.

Lev hesitated, cradling the fabric of the stocking in his hands. He peeked inside, then looked up at you for reassurance. With a nod from you, he carefully pulled out each gift, his eyes brightening with quiet joy.

There was nothing extravagant or meaningful in the traditional sense—but the gifts held things they liked, things they could use, things they wanted. They weren’t

about purpose, but about love. They were a reminder that you saw them, that you loved them, and that they were always safe in your arms.

[endereies]

FALLING FOR YOU - CS

No Nut November - Day 11

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When you and Chris go on a hike, you manage to injure yourself slightly

Hiking wasn’t exactly a hobby of yours, while nature always looked so beautiful, you found yourself watching purely documentaries to get the taste of the outdoors. That was until your boyfriend came beaming to you.

“Baby!” Chris practically barged into your room, phone shining brightly in the unlit room. Without a word, he placed his phone in your hands, the screen showing a beautiful trail.

“A new trail at the park got built! It hikes around in a loop and shows off all the autumn trees that are in season. Just like those shows you watch.” He wasn’t wrong, it highlighted the most beautiful trees that were around the huge park central, and for once you were enticed to go.

So, the next morning, on a spontaneous whimsey, you both headed down to the hike trail. For somewhere so new an advertised, you were sure to find a load of people, yet it seemed fairly limited. Neither you nor Chris complained as it gave a more peaceful atmosphere so you could admire the scenery.

The floors were coated in leaves, varying in sizes, shapes and colour. A small collection grew in your arms before too many were being eyes, and even more were crumpling another in our grip. The trail had fenced linings on parts what needed the extra assistance, yet the majority was rocky pathways that embraced the natural range.

“This is even prettier when you’re in person” You looked around the shielded pathway to find blooming trees and flowers line the fencing as if it was a movie.

“Agreed- woah!” Easily distracted from conversation, Chris went slightly off the directed route and picked up a large stick from a tree. With a small yank, it broke off the remaining centimetre of wood and slid down to his feet. Then he picked it up and placed it on his shoulder.

Multiple impressions and giggles followed the pair of you, laughter emitting whenever Chris held facial expressions. The stick was easily three times the height of Chris and caused for several sensible and dick jokes to take place.

With the slight distraction, you stumbled with laughter, hoping to find the fencing to grip on to. When that failed to happen, your ankle forced itself down a sharp edge of a rock, scraping off a layer of skin from the surface.

Immediately, the stick was tossed and discarded down the edge of the pathway. Chris’ frame was quick to be by yours, bending down to where you were sat on the rock. The dirt didn’t matter as you both looked at the sides of your ankle leading up to your skin.

It wasn’t anything nasty, the tint of blood shining though the cracked skin layer, but it gave a nasty sting. A wince left your lips as your boyfriend helped you to your feet.

“Shit, are you alright?” His arm was tucked loosely under yours, letting you push on it if need be.

“Yeah, I am… Just stings like a fucking bitch though.” A tinge of guilt ran through Chris’ brain at the recall of what happened before the fall. “Sorry my love, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You smiled at the thoughtfulness and idiocy of the boy. “Chris, it wasn’t your fault, I clearly didn’t look where I was going. Don’t blame yourself for making me laugh.”

You both fell silent, however when you met eye contact, laughter passed through the air. Once you clarified you weren’t hurt by anything, the stupidity seeped through to your minds.

“Of course, something goes wrong with your clumsiness.” Chris could not keep a straight face as he spoke, not even looking away from you helped.

“Oh shush, I’ll push you don’t there if you’re not careful.

“At least all the races will be won by me.” It hadn’t even been two minutes yet and he was already pulling out the injury card

“You fucking wish.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[wendylianmartin]

Good evening Miss Wendy, a few minutes ago I was talking with a friend about the castle swimmer, and suddenly he told me "I feel like Wendy is trying to tell us something, or she's telling us something and we don't realize it" and from there I remembered, A few weeks ago I was talking to a girl, making theories about Cs, and she told me that perhaps you gave us some hint about something that would happen in Cs with the image that I will put here.

And he told me that sometimes artists made illustrations about their comics or something, and that in that drawing they put things that at first don't make sense, but that as the story progresses they make sense. You published that image in 2021.

And then I told him that the image above might be Kappa.

But then I told him that that image, as it is, as far as I remember, we haven't seen it in Castle Swimmer,

And then I came up with the theory that maybe we'll see her in season four, But in an environment where there are people identical to Kappa

That might answer the question about the scroll that Kappa found in the tree that is with the whales* But I told her that maybe the people who are identical to Kappa are like Galoo's ancestors (The topic she mentioned about some of her ancestors having powers just like her)

When I say that I don't mean that "the ancestors of Kappa" had powers, I mean that some had the ability to fulfill prophecies, just like Kappa Since I do not believe that Kappa is the only enlightened one that exists or existed Since there are prophecies that it is much more than 20 years old (the age that Kappa is, from what you have told us 👀)

(another scroll theory) It would be that, many years before, some Kappa ancestors had met, and among them one who fulfilled prophecies, and that they had created that scroll to be passed down through generations, or they had simply thrown it around, to see who found it (that's what Fizz's sister said when Kappa asked her for help reading it, "we don't know who brought it, nor if it's real*) I don't know if I'm just crazy, or maybe I need to see what happens in season 4 😥

Here is the image that said *

So there is some hidden meaning in this image! There are three figures in the ‘mural’ behind kappa. The one in the middle represents kappa. The one on the left represents Siren and the one on the right represents neth.

The ‘orbs’ they are holding represents the prophecies and also the three hearts they share.

The whole ‘sharing three hearts’ things was an idea I’ve had since the original ‘kappa’ version of the webcomic so it gets referenced vaguely a lot lol.

[i-wish-this-was-me]

Favorite fics (Charles):

1.Charles Leclerc:

Deserving (fluff)

Something full (+PG) (Smut)

Him taking your virginity (smut)

So mean to me (smut)

Marked (smut)

Too much (car sex) (smut)

Shut up and make your choice (smut)

Pretty when you cry (smut)

Crying eyes (smut)

Just relax (+CS) (smut)

Love yourself (+PG) (smut)

Riding shotgun (+PG) Part.1; Part.2 (smut)

Charles punishing reader (smut)

True temptation (smut)

Him being jealous (smut)

Jealous (smut)

Fighting lesson (smut)

Real orgasm (smut)

Start again (smut)

Piano lesson (smut)

Dirty boy (smut)

Inked (smut)

Podium finishers (+MV, LN) (smut)

What happens in vegas (+MV) (smut) (love this)

First time squirtig (smut)

Waking up (smut)

Best friends? (smut)

First win of the season (smut)

Personal trainer Charles (smut)!

The blueprint (smut)!

Don't go (smut)

In the car (smut)

Eye contact (+MV) (smut)

Keep going (+MV) (smut)

Wait for you (smut with fluff) (this is so cute and funny, I love it)

A game of red Part.1; Part.2; Part.3 (+CS) (smut, fluff at the very end)

Overworked uni gf (fluff ant the start, smut at the end)

Spanking (suggestive?)

Broken glass (fluff)

Unwanted (sister) (fluff)

30 more minutes (fluff)

Magic in your veins (sister) Pt.1; Pt2 (fluff)

You're the only friend I need (sister) (fluff)

Sleep talking (fluff)

A mean interviewer (fluff)

Once Dance, Chérie (fluff)

A sleepless night in Monaco (fluff)

Night tea and tears (fluff)

Daydream (fluff)

Slipping through his fingers (daughter) (fluff)

Midnight support (sister) (fluff)

You can't do everything (fluff)

Please don't leave me (fluff)

Deal (idk)

Make the world go away (fluff)

Rom-com (fluff)

Our first night in Paris (fluff)

War (fluff)

All you got (fluff)

Hoodie (fluff)

That time of the month (fluff)

Reconciliation (fluff?)

Make a mess (fluff)

Right time (fluff) (this is long and gold)

Childhood friends (fluff)

Making movies out of memories (fluff)

Only you (fluff)

A little teenage dream (fluff)

You're lying, right? Grounded (+LN) (fluff)!

Ghost whisperer (fluff)

Orange peel theory (fluff)

Lessons in anatomy (fluff)

Come here (fluff)

Some extra goodies (fluff)

MASTERLIST

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

So a week or two ago, @hollyethecurious floated this idea about the 12 Recs of Christmas in order to rec your very favorite fics that new shipmates may have missed and to show authors holiday love. Of course, I literally cannot rec only twelve fics, so I've played with the rules a bit in order to rec favorite authors and fics. Sorry, not sorry, Hollye...

Now, the problem with 12 days is... it's only 12 days. So I had to severely limit myself... And, yeah, you might have guessed, I couldn't limit myself to twelve either. So you'll be getting 13 days. Sorry, not sorry, again...

All that said, the authors and fics I'll be reccing over the next twelve thirteen days are my comfort fics that live rent free in my head and that I go back and reread over and over and over and over again. The ones I couldn't live without if I were stranded on a desert island and could never read a new CS fic ever again. So I hope you enjoy this kinda drawn out fic rec list.

Since it was her idea, Hollye is the first author that I'll rec!! Several of her fics are on that desert island reading list and if you haven't read them, you should!!!

First and foremost is probably my very favorite fic of all time...

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Co-written with @winterbaby89 for my bday in '17, the premise is that Killian succeeded in getting his revenge on the crocodile moments before Regina's curse swept over the Enchanted Forest.

The Legend of Captain Killian Jones - Rated M -

CS Modern AU / CS Halloweek - Myths, Legends, and Fairytales: 

Cursed three hundred years ago to take on ghost form and haunt his family estate, Killian Jones receives a reprieve once every hundred years to take on corporeal form in order to try and break his curse.

A renowned restorationist, Emma Swan takes on the project of bringing the three hundred year old Jones Manor back to its former glory. A manor that is reportedly haunted by the notorious Captain Killian Jones. Good thing Emma doesn’t believe in ghosts.

Varcolac - Rated M - Written for the very first CSSNS back in '18. While heading home to prepare for the coming evening, Killian Jones happens upon a woman broken down on the side of the road. A woman who shifts the entire foundations of his being with just her scent. Killian Jones is a werewolf you see, and the unsuspecting lass has landed herself deep in werewolf country on the cusp of the first night of the full moon. Knowing he must get her on her way for her own safety, Killian offers to fix her vehicle, but things go awry in town when another wolf attempts to stake a claim on the stunning stranger. Now Killian must do all he can to protect the woman, Emma Swan, from a vengeful pack, all while keeping his true nature a secret from her. Turns out, Killian Jones is no ordinary werewolf.

In the Company of Demons - Rated E - After being in the wrong place at the wrong time, bounty hunter Emma Swan finds herself conscripted into working for one of Storybrooke’s most notorious crime families. Tasked with finding a rat that has infiltrated the Jones family enterprise, Emma tries to keep things just business between herself and the all-too-tempting Killian Jones. If she can unmask the rodent, she’ll receive not just a reprieve from the family, but her freedom and a hundred grand to start a new life. But what kind of life? One that exists in black and white, where there is a right way to do things and one must overcome their demons? Or the kind Killian can offer her, where one can revel in the grey areas while enjoying the company of demons?

A Harem of One Series - Rated M - Killian Jones, younger son of Prominent Turkish Businessman, Brennan Jones, meets Lady Emma during the height of the London season just a few weeks before he must head back to Constantinople to take over the family shipping business. Despondent over the fact that he had to leave the woman he loves behind, things get interesting when Brennan tries to give Killian a welcome home gift.

A Mutual Craving - Rated E - The Underworld was one of the seedier, less reputable establishments, even by black market standards. Every facet of the criminal element could be found here on any given night, engaging in all kinds of illicit activities. From the more mundane transactions, like drugs and conventional weapons, to the really shady and oftentimes dangerous dealing of occult, mystic, and poached items of a supernatural nature. Emma Swan was here for an altogether different reasons, however. She was casing the joint. Too bad all her research and intel had failed to prepare for an unusual security measure she had not planned for. One with pale skin, sharp fangs, and a thirst for blood. Her blood... and her body as well.

All of Hollye's fics are fantastic, but these are the ones that I couldn't live without and like I said, live rent free in my head 24/7. I hope you enjoy all these as much as I have!! See you tomorrow!

[jrob64]

A Fortunate Failure

A CS Modern AU One-shot for CS Spooky Season/Autumnal Bingo

Here is my second offering for the Bingo boards created by @hollyethecurious. This one is based on the prompt 'getting lost in a corn maze'. Now I can cross off two spaces on my card.

Special thanks to @hookedmom for her beta expertise.

Summary: At Mary Margaret and David’s annual ‘All Things Autumn’ party, Emma and Killian hope to win the competition championship again. The final event to determine the winning team is escaping the cornfield maze the fastest, but when the two friends get hopelessly lost, they discover that losing might actually lead to the best prize of all. 

Rating: T

Words: 3553

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

*********

Killian Jones finishes buttoning his shirt and checks his reflection in the mirror. Plaid flannel really isn’t his thing, but he’s trying to get into the spirit of the evening. Besides, when Emma Swan extends an invitation and tells him to wear plaid flannel, he will do it.

He will do just about anything for Emma Swan…except admit his feelings to her.

“Coward,” he whispers to his reflection. “If you don’t tell her pretty soon, she’s going to find someone else to date.” He doesn’t know if he could stand watching her with another guy like he had to when she dated that idiot Neal. Then he had to do it again when she went out with Walsh a few times, before she found out he was an egotistical liar.

Grabbing his black leather jacket from the hook on the back of his bedroom door, he double checks that his keys are in the pocket, then walks out the door and jogs to his car. He told Emma he would meet her at David and Mary Margaret’s farm at three o’clock and he doesn’t want to be late. That would be, in his brother Liam’s words, bad form.

As he drives, he hums along to the songs from his playlist. He chose every song on it because they remind him of Emma. Bloody hell, he has it so bad for her!

When he reaches the farm, he parks beside Emma’s yellow Volkswagen bug and sees that she’s still sitting behind the wheel, looking at her phone. She doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there as he gets out of his car and closes the door. He moves around the back of his car and taps on her window, causing her to startle and look up at him with wide eyes.

Killian could drown in the deep pools of Emma’s gorgeous green eyes.

*********

Emma could drown in the deep pools of Killian’s gorgeous blue eyes.

She’s frankly just so sick and tired of hiding her feelings for him. Her brother urged his friend Killian to move to Storybrooke three years ago when he was getting over a bad breakup. At that time, David told her the Brit needed friends, so that’s what she became. Now, she’s stuck in ‘friend’ mode, but oh, how she wishes she could move into the ‘girlfriend’ category.

At one point, she thought she could get over her feelings for him by dating other guys, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. Neal was a complete imbecile who thought women were inferior beings, and Walsh was an arrogant jerk. She sometimes wonders if she chose to date those two because in the back of her mind she knew that nothing would ever develop with either of them.

Killian Jones is the only man she wants to date, but he has no interest in being in a romantic relationship with her. So she settles for being his friend, because that way, at least she gets to spend plenty of time with him.

Tonight is Mary Margaret and David’s ‘All Things Autumn’ party. It’s highly anticipated by everyone in town and is one of Emma’s favorite nights of the year. For the first few years of the annual event, she sat back and watched as couples competed with each other in numerous events - cornhole, a scavenger hunt, as well as piggyback, wheelbarrow and burlap sack racing. Mary Margaret always tried to get her involved, but Emma was perfectly happy watching, laughing, and keeping score.

Once Killian moved into town, they decided to team up. Emma is even happier to finally be participating. It doesn’t hurt that most of the competitions require physical contact. She also enjoys sitting beside him during the hayride and around the bonfire at the end of the evening.

The best part, in her opinion, is trying to get through the cornfield maze the fastest. The first year she and Killian participated together, they were the winning team. He was so excited, he wrapped her up in a hug and spun her around until they were both dizzy. It was the best feeling in the world.

Now, as he stands outside her car, looking at her with those blue, blue eyes, she’s more than ready to have that feeling again.

*********

“Are you ready, Swan?” Killian asks, stepping back so she can open her car door.

She climbs out and stands in front of him, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “I was just studying a diagram of the cornfield maze. I think I’ll be able to mauever us through it in record time.”

“Is that so?” he questions with a teasing grin. “Could you be seeking revenge for last year when Ruby and Victor beat us by fifteen minutes?”

“I still think Mary Margaret led Ruby through the maze before the party that night. There’s no way they could have gotten out that fast,” Emma grouses.

The two of them start walking toward the huge red barn, which is the hub of the autumn-themed festivities. “Why would your sister-in-law show favoritism to Ruby?”

“Because Ruby is her best friend and can talk Mary Margaret into anything. Plus, she knows I wouldn’t cheat.”

“And studying the diagram beforehand isn’t cheating?” Killian asks cheekily.

She gives him a side-eye glare. “That’s called preparation.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“You should be happy your partner prepared so well.”

I’m just happy to be your partner, Killian thinks. Out loud, he says, “You’re the most competitive person I’ve ever met, Swan.”

“If you’re gonna keep making remarks like that, I might have to find a different partner.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

She rolls her eyes at him, making him grin again. They walk into the barn, where their senses are immediately inundated with the sight of fall decorations, smells from the abundance of food laid out on long tables, and sounds from spooky music coming through speakers and the large crowd already gathered.

Mary Margaret spots them immediately and grabs David’s hand before she heads their way. “Emma! Killian!” she greets exuberantly. “I was afraid you were going to miss the scavenger hunt!”

“I thought it didn’t start until three-thirty,” Emma says. “It’s only three o’clock right now.”

“You have to have something to eat first. Oh, you should try David’s chili! He added a secret ingredient this year.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s nutmeg,” Emma teases. “It might work in his pancakes, but I really don’t think it will work in chili.”

David chuckles. “It’s not nutmeg, and it’s not really that secret. I just used some of the jalapenos Mary Margaret grew in the garden last summer. We canned several jars of them.”

“He dices them up to put in the chili,” Mary Margaret gushes, gazing at David like he discovered a way to live on Mars. “Isn’t that clever?”

“Very clever, Mate,” Killian says quickly, giving a small tug on Emma’s sleeve. He’s pretty sure she is just about to make a sarcastic remark about Mary Margaret’s over-the-top adoration of her husband. Emma looks at him with a smirk and he’s convinced he was correct.

“Well, get yourselves something to eat,” David says. “We have some last minute things to take care of before the games begin.”

“One of them better not be showing Ruby through the corn maze,” Emma grumbles, as the couple walks away.

Killian laughs. “Perhaps we should aspire to keep Ruby within our sight at all times. Will that set your mind at ease, Swan?”

“No, because then we have to look at her hanging all over her new boyfriend, Jefferson. Victor was no catch, but at least he was only about a five on the weirdness scale. This guy is at least a thirteen.”

Killian’s grin couldn’t be much bigger as they head to the tables to load their plates. He’s looking forward to having a fun-filled evening with all of his friends. And with the woman he loves.

Someday soon, he’s going to have to tell her how he feels.

*********

Someday soon, she’s going to have to tell him how she feels.

Seriously, she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to keep pretending much longer, especially when he keeps giving her that heart-stopping smile. Plus, he keeps touching her; just little touches that send shivers up her spine. His palm on the small of her back, a brush of his hand down her arm, fingers combing snarls from her hair, sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

It’s going to drive her crazy, but she never wants him to stop.

“Swan?”

“Hmm?” she hums.

“Is there something wrong with the food? You’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

She looks down at her plate, her fork hovering over it. He’s right - she hasn’t eaten anything. She has gotten too caught up in her thoughts.

“No, I was just…thinking about the scavenger hunt, I guess.” She scoops up some macaroni and cheese and sticks it in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she adds, “I stuck everything I thought could possibly be on the list in my bug today. I swear, if Mary Margaret has tampons on the list again, I’m going to strangle her. That was so embarrassing last year! Especially when Ruby asked if a used one counted.”

Killian nearly chokes on the drink of water he had taken. “I’m sure Mary Margaret won’t make that mistake again,” he says after clearing his throat. “She turned beet red when Ruby asked that question.”

Once everyone is finished eating, the list of items to find is passed out and the hunt begins. There is nothing embarrassing on it this time and Emma is elated that she, in fact, does have a few of the items in her car. She deflates when Belle and Will turn in their completed list just as she and Killian locate the final thing they need, but gets over it quickly when she sees how happy the other couple is to receive the prize of two movie passes.

“Second place isn’t shabby, Swan,” Killian says. “It still earns us two points toward the overall championship.”

They rack up more points by coming in third in cornhole, first in the piggyback race, and second in the wheelbarrow race. They fail to place in the burlap sack race when they get their feet tangled together inside the sack and fall, then are disqualified for trying to roll across the finish line. Emma doesn’t care. She is laughing so hard while laying on top of Killian, who also has tears of laughter running from the corners of his eyes.

Before the final competitive event of the night, everyone loads up on David’s flatbed wagon, lined with bales of straw, then he tows them around the farm. Mary Margaret joins him in the cab of the tractor and turns so she can see her friends enjoying themselves, telling jokes and stories, laughing and cuddling together.

Emma scoots as close as she can to Killian and is thrilled when he drops his arm across her shoulders. She tentatively rests her forearm on his thigh and relaxes when he doesn’t pull away. They remain that way for the rest of the ride.

Emma is content taking in the autumn colors of the leaves lit by the waning rays of sunlight. When one particular maple tree catches her attention - so bright with red and orange leaves, it looks like it’s on fire - she turns to see if Killian is looking at it, too.

He isn’t. His eyes are on her, a soft smile on his lips. She has the distinct feeling he’s been looking at her for a while, instead of enjoying the scenery. “Aren’t the trees beautiful?” she asks.

“Aye, lovely,” he agrees, though he never takes his eyes off of her.

“I love the way the sun makes the colors so vivid. Orange, red…”

“Gold,” he adds, as she feels him sifting strands of her hair through his fingers.

“Killian,” she says with mock exasperation. “You’re not even looking at the trees.”

He blinks rapidly, then pulls his eyes away to look around. Clearing his throat, he says, “Mary Margaret and David are very fortunate to own such a beautiful farm.”

“Yeah, they are. David always wanted to live on a farm when we were growing up.”

They make small talk until the hayride is over. When they disembark, Killian offers her his hand to help her step down, but once her feet are on the ground, he doesn’t let go. She feels his thumb slowly stroking over the back of her hand, sending tingles across her skin.

He’s never held her hand like that before and she feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe he does think of her as more than a friend.

*********

Emma doesn’t pull her hand away from him and he feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe she does think of him as more than a friend.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her during the hayride. The way her golden hair glowed in the light of the sunset was mesmerizing. When she called him out for not noticing the colors of the trees, it was all he could do to focus his attention on them. Their beauty couldn’t compare with hers.

His hope is also fueled by the way she sat so close to him and seemed to enjoy having his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It felt very nice, very natural. It felt like something he would like to do on a regular basis.

As he stands in front of her, he has the overwhelming urge to admit how he feels, but knows it isn’t the right time or place. When that will be, he has no idea. He just knows he is sick and tired of hiding his feelings for her.

His turbulent thoughts are interrupted by David loudly announcing, “There’s only one competition left to determine the winning team. Grab your partner and come get your flashlights for the cornfield maze!”

“Let’s go,” Emma says, tugging on his hand. “It’s time for us to nail down the championship!”

Killian willingly follows behind her, chuckling at her enthusiasm and determination. He’s happy because in this competition, she is a force to be reckoned with and he’s her partner.

Emma grabs a flashlight out of the basket Mary Margaret is carrying and tests it to make sure it works. Then she takes Killian’s hand again and marches them over to the entrance of the cornfield maze. While most of the couples are milling around and chatting, she edges them to the front of the pack so they’ll be one of the first ones to enter the maze.

When David blows the air horn signaling the start, Emma takes off running with Killian on her heels. Everyone is bunched up until they get to the first division in the path. Most of the group, including Emma and Killian, go to the left, while a few couples split off to the right.

At every intersection, the crowd gets slimmer as they make their choice of direction. Before long, the only ones still going down the same path as Emma and Killian are Ruby and Jefferson. Killian shakes his head fondly as he watches the two women elbowing each other, trying to gain an advantage.

Emma looks back at him and he gives her a thumbs up, his heart swelling at the smile she gives him in return.

*********

Emma sees Killian give her a thumbs up and her heart swells, causing her to give him a smile in return, even though they’re in the middle of a fierce competition.

The further they go into the maze, the darker it becomes since the tall corn stalks block out most of the moonlight. The circle of light their flashlight throws off isn’t enough to illuminate more than about a four foot diameter in front of them, which is a little disconcerting.

When they reach another fork in the path, she exchanges a challenging look with Ruby, then grabs Killian’s hand and heads in the opposite direction as the other couple.

“Are you quite sure this is the way to go?” Killian asks.

“When I looked at the diagram, I counted the number of right and left turns. I’m pretty sure this one was supposed to be to the left.”

“I trust your judgment, Swan.”

They walk on for several minutes, making a few more turns. Their pace gradually slows and finally comes to a stop.

“Is something wrong?” Killian asks.

Emma stands stock still, turning her head back and forth. “Do you hear anyone else?”

He cocks his head and listens intently. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That means either we’re way ahead of everyone else or…”

“Or we’re lost?”

She turns to face him. “Yeah. I think we should have turned the same way as Ruby and Jeff back there.”

“We can head back…” he begins.

“No, let’s just keep going. There’s probably more than one way out of here.”

They continue on in silence, except for the crunch of the flattened corn stalks under their feet. At every intersection, they discuss which direction to go. After another ten minutes, Emma comes to a stop. “I think we’re hopelessly lost. I’m sorry, Killian.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry, Emma.”

“I was so sure I could lead us out of this maze before anyone else, but I failed.”

He steps in front of her, his face nearly obscured by shadows. “The night isn’t over yet.”

“Do you really think we can still win?”

He moves a little closer and she tilts the flashlight up so she can see his face more clearly. He is looking at her fixedly, an ambiguous look on his face.

“There’s more than one way to win tonight,” he says quietly.

“Do you have a way to fly out of here or something?”

He chuckles. “No, nothing like that.”

“How can we win, then?”

He takes another step forward and reaches up to cup her face in his hands. She draws in a quick breath, a hopeful thought entering her mind.

Is he going to kiss her?

*********

He’s going to kiss her.

He looks deeply into her eyes, hoping to see acceptance. Even in the dim light, he finds it. She wants this, too.

Leaning in, he tentatively touches his lips to hers once, twice. When he pulls back slightly, she follows him, her lips chasing his. He takes advantage of the opportunity and draws her into her arms to kiss her again. This time, the tentativeness is gone, replaced by eagerness and passion.

Gods, how he’s longed for this day, imagined it so often. And now he knows - reality is so much better. Her lips are pliant, soft and sweet.

He hears her whisper something and murmurs, “What did you say, Love?”

She rests her forehead against his, her breath ghosting over his lips. “It’s about time.”

He pulls away a little, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

“If it’s half as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you, it’s a very long time.”

She gives him that heart-melting smile he loves so much. The one she seems to only give to him. “Do you remember the first year we won the cornfield maze and you picked me up and spun me around?”

“Aye.”

“When you set me down and looked at me, for a second I thought you were going to kiss me. Ever since then, I wished you would.”

His brows shoot up. “That long ago?”

“How long has it been for you?” she asks.

“From the moment I met you.”

Now her brows climb up her forehead. “Seriously? I thought you were getting over a breakup and was only looking to make new friends.”

“I did want to make new friends and wasn’t looking for anyone to date but you…there was just something there…a spark between us. At least, on my part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m a bloody fool and a coward. Even when I saw you going out with those two wankers, I couldn’t work up the nerve to tell you how I felt. I guess I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and it would make things awkward between us.”

“I was an idiot to go out with them. I thought if I found someone else, I could get over my feelings for you. It didn’t work.”

“I’m very happy it didn’t.”

“So…what do we do now?” she asks.

“Well,” Killian smirks, swaying her back and forth in his arms, “now I suppose we should find our way out of this bloody maze.”

She wraps her arms more tightly around his neck to pull him closer. “We don’t need to be in any hurry.”

His eyes grow comically wide. “Who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

She playfully slaps the back of his head. “Shut up and kiss me, Jones.”

He happily does as told.

Ruby and Jefferson end up winning the team competition, but Emma and Killian win each other. That is, by far, the sweetest prize of all.

*********

Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out all of the great stories and art in the CSSpookyAutumnalBingo2024 collection on Ao3.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

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@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

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@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[thestoriesthatweweave]

"It's three seasons old, at least," said Phillip, in a pained voice. "What sort of provincial backwater did you buy it in?" "The Little Dover Dress Shop." Visander bit out each word, fuming that he knew the answer. "It still has an empire waist," said Phillip, a kind of agony on his face. "You know, here we have fashion, we don't just go about wearing robes for ten thousand years." "I care nothing for your human fashions, worm," spat Visander.

Dark Heir by CS Pacat is a comedy. Or, in other words: if book 3 is not a married-life sit-com between Phillip and Visander I riot.

(In other, other words: there are so many fantastic romantic dynamics in this book, but the one couple I have imprinted on like a baby duckling is the queer murder-machine with tunnel vision stuck in the body of a Victorian ingénue and his husband Who Really Does Not Want To Be Here and can endure his wife being "a dead man from a defunct world" but draws the line at him not dressing for dinner.)

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

CS Winter Bingo--square 1 (the truth about Santa)

Hi there and happy holiday season!  In an attempt to continue procrastinating my season 4 rewatch drabbles–and to not feel guilty about it–I decided to participate in the CS Winter Bingo event.  I received nine winter/holiday related prompts arranged in a square like a bingo card.  My mission is to make a bingo by writing at least three of my prompts before winter is over, but I’m hoping to do better than that!  I’m hoping to finish all nine!  Given the nature of the event, you can expect a lot of fluff (but then what else would you expect from me, after all?)  I’m hoping to keep them short as well, but I’m usually not nearly as successful at that.  And without further ado, let’s play CS Winter Bingo!

Rating: G

Word count: 983

Today’s prompt: The Truth About Santa

Other chapters: (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma found her husband standing in front of the fireplace and looking up the flue with an assessing glance as she stepped into their large great room on Christmas Eve night.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, Swan,” he said, still looking up the chimney, “but it would appear the passage is too narrow for anyone to pass.”

She laughed, putting an arm around his waist and reaching up to give his cheek a quick peck.  He looked down at her for a moment, his eyes softening before returning her kiss with a quick one of his own.  “Killian, what in the world are you talking about, and why do you look so worried?”

His brow furrowed as he turned back to his perusal.  “Is it similar to the way they travel in that book about the magical lad Harry Potter?  Does he travel via flue powder?  Does he possess some other form of magic that expands the chimney?  After all, I have my doubts that even the wee cygnet could pass through that opening, let alone a portly, full grown man.”

Emma felt the usual warmth and affection for her husband that came over her whenever he used his pet name for their two-year-old daughter, Hope.  The cygnet.  Their tiny baby swan.  Their miracle baby.  For a moment she was lost in the moment thinking about how perfect her life was now that Henry was back in Storybrooke and she had her entire family back together, but gradually it dawned on her just what had her husband concerned.

“Are you talking about Santa?” she asked.

[inchidentally]

About teammate relationships being pr. Do you think this pr teammate relationships are also a part of football?

I'm so sorry I'm a fake sports fan so apart from F1 and hockey I don't know anything about other sports!

and like just to say honestly the PR thing is SO overblown about F1 bc the teams actually love a rivalry so long as the cars don't end up in the wall. it's great PR and usually is great for pushing and motivating their drivers. I think recency bias has made ppl think that DTS/DR/Liberty Media basically post-Bernie F1 has had some major overhaul in wanting friendly personalities and friendships etc but it's just not the case. F1 is inherently not a "friendly" looking sport bc it's incredibly elitist, woven deep into extremely uhhhh not PC and human rights-violating political establishments and public as well as private business - and to simply gain entrance to F1 requires millions poured into just one driver's career at each stage of their racing career. and tbh even the drivers who've gone for sponsorships outside of racing are choosing luxury brands etc so they're not needing to appeal to the general public.

there are maybe three drivers who are wanting an image that appeals to the wider public but the rest are absolutely fine with for the most part being openly remote and private or strategically showing just enough to the public to seem open but actually remaining very private. it's absolutely nothing like team sports and honestly not even similar to most other racing bc up until Liberty it was a walled city of a sport. PR is truly optional and scandals/salaciousness/fighting will always generates way more engagement and press attention than friendships and wholesomeness. F1 is entirely finance-driven (even moreso than other sports where public affection is any kind of priority) and if PR friendships or a friendly image meant literally anything then you wouldn't have drivers getting dropped from the sport mid-season or PR-darlings waiting in the wings after F2 in favor of F1 nepo hires and drivers who bring major regional or corporate sway with them.

backmarker teams like St-ke and W-lliams utilize PR more simply bc they need to keep sponsors happy and it's easier for drivers who are barely even aiming for points to have no tensions or public scrutiny to make it uncomfortable.

it's why I always point to how - regardless of what their private relationship is - CS and CL have always been fully on the same wavelength about their image as teammates in terms of managing what the public sees and how to negotiate periods of tension. weirdly enough they're the only case of two teammates actually utilizing their joint PR skillfully and intentionally BUT that being the case because a genuine friendship and respect runs through it. if they fully disliked or were even just disinterested in each other then they wouldn't bother and would run with the rivalry with the occasional bit of social media thrown in. Ferrari especially doesn't give a fuck if the public think they're "friendly" or "relatable" as a brand lsdfgsljafgljsagfsaljf. the C2 stuff has been a great unexpected little addition but they'd have been just as happy if they agreed to do a few stiff little challenges and the occasional ad but otherwise hated each other.

which is what's funny abt seeing the wild sht going on bc ppl can't grasp LN and OP having a solid and respectful working relationship but totally different approaches to PR. LN is open about how he's wanted to build his brand and his own company and the double edged sword of being such a public and accessible figure - PR for him is both a nightmare and savior bc the more extreme and blindly devoted of his fans are actually the biggest threat to his peace of mind and public identity. they start to take over his public perception w their opinions being so amplified by sheer numbers and insane devotion.

which is why someone like OP who represents a much more typical F1 driver who sees this as his career for as long as he can have it and PR as just a necessary evil that you hire a person for, ends up making those insane fans misinterpret THAT approach as some kind of devious Machiavellian PR... instead of literally being the opposite. he's literally said that he's ok or at least resigned to having to be a public figure as a part of the job and therefore also public about certain other people/things in his private life, but he draws the lines firm and very very reserved even from his own fans. esp when compared to someone like DR and LN and CS who at least appear extremely accessible to fans.

which is why in a totally different way, the LN/OP partnership works just as strongly as CS/CL one - bc OP doesn't care about publicity beyond Mark's advice and his sm person's requests and LN is already having to perform an extremely precarious PR dance w too many of his fans feeling v comfortable and entitled to him to the point where they make bold statements and opinions about his innermost thoughts and mental health as if speaking on his behalf. poor MaxF regularly has to help him run that gauntlet by subtly reminding fans about boundaries and that yes LN is indeed capable of experiencing emotions in rational ways !! and that he's fully capable of gaining perspective after the heat of a race !! and that fans deciding to run hate campaigns against people on Lando's behalf is not healthy or sane behavior !! (again, said much more subtly and skillfully than that)

then you've got OP who was hated the second he arrived in F1 on behalf of fan-favorite DR, got a brief respite while he was still notably behind LN, and now has gone back to being hated on behalf of fan-favorite LN. his mom is a fully random bit of fan popularity but even there, she's not consistent with it and doesn't go to races or otherwise make her life or feelings known publicly. there's zero "strategy". she doesn't defend him or coddle him and is known for lovingly roasting him. even choosing the RFP for an interview was hilarious bc she went w an outlet that makes gags about her son and favors the drivers she also likes and apart from saying how she raises her kids to be decent and kind she didn't say anything that particularly "sold" OP bc she just admitted he's weird (in a good way!!) but not naturally super emotive or sentimental. it's not the kind of stuff a mum who was PR-instructed or trying to make the public blindly adore her son would say. it's a very Aussie down-to-earth not-the-end-of-the-world approach to her son chasing an insane career that frankly stresses her out most of the time bc it's so dangerous.

whereas LN has had publicity following his life since he was small and it was decided that his dad would represent the family publicly but everyone else would be visible but otherwise private. the same strategy was applied to all of LN's friendships bc some were like MaxF who didn't mind being public facing and then a lot of them are visible but not known beyond their names. but it's so easy to see what a non-stop crazy dance LN has to do with his PR bc just when it feels like it's within his control, the delulu over intense fans latch onto smth and start flooding comment sections and crossing lines and assuming they have his blessing w all of it.

which is why it's perfect that OP is so inaccessible and relatively remote/uninvested in a public image bc having the hivemind of a rabid fanbase against him can never strike too deep or too personal since fans have never been permitted to any of those parts of OP's life. (I mean, technically they could ofc get even worse than this but then we're into legal action and race ban territory)

and it's also why they've both been so smart to adopt OP's methods when it comes to their relationship as teammates and pull all of their downtime and private conversations out of the public eye and and only mention them in passing. bc in the same way, whatever insanity fans project onto their relationship will never hit too personal bc they don't have access to any of it. CS/CL choose to make a lot available to fans bc they both know how to control and work that into being beneficial but not damaging. LN/OP choose to keep a lot private bc a large part of LN's fanbase is extremely unwieldy and OP has no interest in pandering to PR beyond strictly necessary. if they had to negotiate both of their images throughout all of this it would be complete chao.

and it's ironic bc the fans currently engaged in the online warfare against OP don't at all see the parallel w how LN was treated by DR's fanbase when they were teammates - and how those two were friends at the same time as frequently being at odds within the team etc. but I mean to be that kind of fan you're not capable of seeing that kind of behavior pattern ig ?? idk I couldn't fathom gunning so hard for men let alone rich men so I'll never understand !

aaaaaanyway tl;dr the notion of PR in F1 is negligible and a lot of fans are very very confused about when they're actually being blatantly pandered to and when a relationship or driver is being genuine lasfgsjlagfljg

[runner5anna]

zombies run secret santa for @are-you-sure-its-me-you-see

HI i hear you like hurt / comfort ?? HERE YOU GO

It's set post-season three, pre-season four.

It's coldand dark, and everyone is tired. Yet, it's the first Demons and Darkness session in months. Sam and 5 are sat together, waiting for everyone, as they slowly radio that they can't attend for whatever reason. They've not talked in months, let alone looked at one another. And now they're stuck in a room together.

Big thanks to @notforconsumption or @delucadarling !!

The ticking of the clock echoed around the room, the hand moving in time with Five’s bouncing leg. It was a cold, fresh day. The type that makes you wear gloves in doors and blankets around the house. 

Tick. Bounce. Tick. Bounce. Tick. Bounce. 

On a day like this, Sam and Five would have made a blanket fort in the shack. They’d huddle against the cold with warm tea and whatever snacks they could salvage from the kitchens. 

That was a long time ago now. 

Bounce. Tick. Bounce. Tick.

Fifteen minutes. They were supposed to start fifteen minutes ago. Yet, still, the radio calls still rolled in. 

Jody was first. ‘Yup, sorry Sam. I had something last minute crop up. Sorry.’ 

Then it was Simon. ‘Yes Sammy boy…Jenny and I had other plans! Sorry I didn’t tell you.’

Finally, it was Maxine and Paula. ‘So sorry Sam! Sara’s been fussing. Again.’ 

It had been weeks since Five and Sam had a proper conversation. Ever since Moonchild, ever since Sara, ever since the seasonal depression on top the normal depression…It was all rolling on - and the once free flowing sunny conversion turned to frigid small talk. 

Tick. Bounce. Tick. Bounce. Tick. Bounce. 

Something. He had to say something. They couldn’t just sit there in this freezing room watching the snow pile up outside. Sam had to at least start a conversation. But what to say?

‘So…how are you?’ 

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. 

He was only met with the ruffle of fabric. Five was looking at something - away with the fairies as they used to call it. Now, Sam knew the glassy eyed look. It was Moonchild. Or the cocktail mix of meds that Labotse had put them on. Sam reached out over the table, tapping it with his palm. The noise startled Five out of their daze with a gasp. 

‘How are you? Are you okay?’ Sam reiterated. He held their gaze firmly, speaking loud and clear. 

‘Fine.’ 

‘That's good…Maxine and Paula will be here soon.’

‘I heard the radio.’

‘Sorry…sorry. I thought that you weren't listening.’ 

‘I was.’ They turned back to their original position - curled tight, like a spring.

And so, the incessant silence returned. 

Bounce. Tick. Bounce. Tick.

Once, the conversation flowed like warm spring water. It would go on for hours, winding around them. They’d talk and talk long into the night, just sharing stories. Even then, when the stories ran dry, the silence didn’t feel hostile. Just a pleasant lull.

Five sat across from him, expression black and unreadable. They had their nails pressed into their cheeks, leaving little Cs imprinted in their skin. 

Five would sit beside him, under blankets and sharing snacks and secrets. Under giggles and hot chocolate they’d spend time just together. 

Sam missed it. Deeply. He’d feel a chasm deepen in his chest whenever they’d pass by. He missed his friend, his runner, his Five. 

‘Fuck it.’ Sam huffed. ‘It's freezing. I’m putting the kettle on. While we have tea, you can help me plan this encounter.’  

He slapped the table as he stood up, knocking down a few minis which Five hurriedly propped back up. 

‘The paints and brushes are on top of my bag.’ He pointed at the satchel with a spoon. ‘Can you grab them for me?’

At the suggestion, Five looked like a deer in the headlights - all wide eyed and scared. 

‘Go on. I bought them for you. I know you like them.’ 

They looked down at his bag, then up at him. They didn’t move a muscle. 

Sam flicked the kettle on and headed over to the bag, placing it on the table. He dug through and placed the paints and brushes on the table.

Five didn’t move. They stared at the paints and brushes like foreign, alien objects. 

Sam pushed them towards Five. ‘Here.’ He grabbed a half painted mini off of the table - A finely detailed golden dragon. ‘You started it before…’ The words got stuck on his tongue. 

The kettle began to screech, and he turned on his heel. Good timing really.

While he made the tea, he could hear the rustle of the paints and Five opened them. 

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.’ Five spoke gently, in an almost robotic tone. Their voice was choked from underuse. 

‘It has.’ Sam inhaled sharp, braving himself for the conversation. ‘We should do it more often - like we used to?’ 

Five put the brush down and cleared their throat. ‘Is…it safe?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘Will it be safe? How do you know I won’t…’ They made a stabbing motion with their hands, mimicking the score of Psycho. ‘…you know.’ 

‘No. No I don’t know.’

Five fiddled with the ends of the brush, flicking out the crusted paint between the bristles. 

Sam poured the water over the bags. He’d even allowed himself to have a fresh one. One mint tea for him, a chamomile for Five. It felt natural. He’d done it millions of times before. 

‘You do know what I mean.’ 

‘I really don’t.’ Sam chuckled. He handed the mug towards Five. 

‘Thank you. You’ve…put it in my favourite mug.’ 

‘I have!’ Sam beamed. ‘It’s been ages since we’ve done this. I thought you might like it.’ 

It was a Gromit shaped mug - a deeply impractical thing. Five was obsessed with it. Because it was so difficult to drink out of, no one else would touch it, and it was large enough to hold a ‘decent cuppa’ as they’d call it. 

Five picked the brush up and put the end into their mouth, chewing. All of a sudden, they flinched, gasped and pulled it out. The brush clattered as it hit the hardwood floor. ‘Sorry!’ 

‘Why are you apologising?’

‘Sorry, should I not have done it?’ Their breathing became sharp and ragged as they looked to the floor, shoving their face behind their hands. 

‘Five, it’s all right.’ Sam was well versed in talking people through panic attacks. ‘Just breathe with me. In for one, out for two. Are you ready?’

He counted up in twos, staying in front of Five, ready to pull their hands away if they started to scratch or draw blood. 

‘In for four, out for six. You got this.’ 

‘I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ 

‘Five, I don’t know what you're apologising about.’ 

‘Chewing…’ They coughed and hiccuped between gasps of air. ‘Chewing your paintbrush.’ 

‘Oh - don’t worry about that. It’s just a paintbrush. I chew them all the time.’ 

5’s deep eyes began to well even more with tears. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Pretty sure. I haven’t chewed that one. The marks there are you, actually. Didn’t think we should be sharing chewed pens. That was gross before the apocalypse.’ Sam dug around in his pockets and produced a handkerchief. ‘I have a feeling this is about more than a paintbrush.’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘People don’t start having panic attacks for no reason. Talk to me. I’m here to listen.’ He resisted the urge to wipe the tears from Five’s face as he once did. They’d simply flinch away.

Five cleared their throat as they took the handkerchief. They pulled their feet up, crossing their legs. ‘Uh…’ their eyes skipped about the room. ‘It’s just…’ 

‘Moonchild?’ Sam offered. 

‘Yeah. Yeah that. She used to get…funny about me chewing her pens. Said it was gross. That morning she got all…fussy about it before sending me to Abel. And I am looking up at you with a pen in my mouth and suddenly I watch it all over again. Whenever I blink I am back in that moment.’

‘Like a flashback?’

‘Yeah. That. It will be the pens, then the boat…then the axe..’

Sam held his hand out, lying palm up on the table. ‘I don’t blame you.’ 

‘Pardon?’ 

‘I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t all there, Five. I can’t blame you for something you can’t control.’ 

Five’s tear stained face stared back at him. For a moment their lip wobbled, until they pounced forwards, wrapping their arms around his shoulders.

Sam gasped and flinched - his muscles going tense. A natural reaction. His hands hung in mid air. It had been so long. Usually, Five would jump away if he came anywhere near them. Yet, here they were, hanging off his shoulders. 

‘I’m just so scared. So scared I’ll hurt you. Or that I have hurt you more. Or someone else.’

Sam slowly lowered his hands down, gently resting them on Five’s back, rubbing up and down. ‘You won’t hurt me.’ 

‘How do you know that? How do you know that for sure?’

‘Because we have plans for that.’

‘What happens if those fail?’ 

Sam lifted Five off of him, holding them by their shoulders. He looked into their watercolour eyes - watery and round. ‘Because if you were going to hurt me, you wouldn’t get so upset about it.’

Five sniffed and leaned back, holding the handkerchief in their hands, pressed against their cheek. ‘Why are you so nice to me? It’s not like I deserve it.’

‘Because you're my friend. My Five. And I trust you.’

5’s lip curled at the edge, showing a single white tooth. It was brief, but picturesque. A rare sight nowadays. 

‘Thank you.’ They mouthed.

*

It was 8.30 by the time Sara was asleep. She was fussy, teething probably. Maxine had been pacing up and down the hallway while Paula tried whatever home remedy she could think of. Eventually, a combination of Celery sticks, rubbing her ears and a poor rendition of Sam’s Chinese lullaby to get her to sleep. And so, she was relinquished over to the babysitter so they could pretend to be normal humans for a few hours. By pretending to be elves, gnomes and druids. 

‘Hey! I am so sorry we’re late-’ Maxine was cut off by Paula grabbing her swiftly backwards. 

‘Shhh.’ 

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Look.’

Sam had Five tucked under his arm, a book in the other. He talked gently as he ran his finger along the pages of the game master manual. 

‘What about this one?’ 

‘No. That one has no legendary action. If it's a battle against the BBEG, it's got to have a legendary action.’ Five said back. They cupped tea in their hands. The smell of chamomile sang through the air. 

‘True. But it looks so cool.’

‘Could we homebrew it? Combine it with another monster. Steal a few legendary actions.’ 

‘Wouldn't hurt - would it?’

Five nodded, flicking through the monster manual on the table. ‘Here. ‘This is a good Legendary action...’

‘It’s been ages since they’ve done that.’ Paula whispered over Maxine’s shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her waist, bringing her into her chest. ‘Let's just…give them space. Let them be together. Just for now.

[laurelnose]

i saw an essay when Book of Hours came out that said the Librarian was different from the Cultist because the Cultist has no friends and is just holed up somewhere pursuing higher mysteries while using people as ritual parts, while the Librarian is a member of the community at Brancrug. (It was hilarious how fast BoH swung the fandom consensus on the Cultist from “they’re pretty competent” to “oh the Cultist is a fucking idiot,” lmfao.) anyways uhh they’re right but since House of Light came out I have realized that I like playing BoH exactly the same way I play CS, which is to say I hole up in my big weird house for days on end shuffling my card decks and forgetting other people exist, only to be unpleasantly surprised when the season changes and someone shows up at my door. community what community. The Deep Mysteries need to be shelved.

[very mild, largely mechanical House of Light spoilers to follow]

salons are pretty fun once you’ve got enough resources to not feel squeezed about them though. They take a lot of prep and you have to time your invitations correctly so that your visitors arrive while you’re still flush with soul, but I do enjoy the conversation with the guests. and it does feel nice to be able to write to visitors, even if I’m not doing it very often. like the Librarian really is connected to the outside world and not just hopelessly unmoored from other people at Hush House, at the mercy of whoever randomly bothers to make the trek out to Brancrug. I’m still spending most of my money on Unusual Help and haven’t been able to budget much for dishes but I’m almost done unlocking the House and will soon be able to buy much more food. I like that lessons are now functionally infinite and I don’t have to worry about trying to get the timing right for Numa lessons anymore. I’ve not done a lot of incident follow-up (Spencer is coming next Numa and he will be my first) but I think I shall have to prioritize doing more of them. And I shall have to find out if my Numa incident can be followed up on too, once it concludes.

[“how have you been playing for a week and still haven’t concluded any incidents” I am BEING ANTISOCIAL, as previously established.]

i am so sad that Numa visitors don’t leave calling cards. I understand why but the only thing I really wanted from the visitors update was the ability to make Julian Coseley show up whenever I want. 😭 Can you host a salon during Numa if you are careful with your invitation timing?? I will have to check if the Numa guests have food preference aspects.

two final things. 1) please let me buy eggs oh my god. eggs require three soul cards (collect vegetable sack. feed chicken. collect egg from chicken) which considering that the going rate for a soul card at the Sweet Bones is 12p and that you can’t multitask with beasts e.g. feeding Tuppence while collecting from Terrence, makes eggs one of THEE most complicated and expensive ingredients to obtain. It’s more straightforward to collect from the gulls but considering the pull rate is 33% eggs, that’s still basically three soul cards per egg, this time with aspect constraints! I will pay fucking spintriae for eggs, just let me use currencyyyyy. 2) the fucking shelving system is still giving me fits, I think it’s been improved somewhat for the books (I didn’t play the Daymare update so IDK if it was that or HoL) but where the hell am I supposed to put ANYTHING else. When I order all the ingredients I need for cooking, where do they go, the fucking bridge? Gross! Immersion-breaking! I need more pantry space.

(I unfortunately have limited patience for the shelf thing. The most concrete manifestation of my COVID trauma is I can’t STAND irregularly shaped shelves anymore. Circulation dropped by >70% during lockdown and took years to recover. Public library collections are sized with the expectation that a certain percentage of the collection will live with patrons; we were not and still aren’t equipped to house our entire collection in-house. I spent a year of my life jury-rigging shelves to get things to fit. The bane of my existence became shelves so specifically designed for a certain type of media that they couldn’t be extended or repurposed for other things. Having to constantly shuffle books around between ~aesthetic~ little nooks isn’t cute or cozy, it’s just bad fucking library design. When the shelving mechanic on BoH works it’s a thing of beauty but there are simply NOT ENOUGH SHELVES. I just want to fit my reasonably-sized collection on one screen. Also the scrolls should stack on top of each other. Catch my Librarian spending their stipend on ripping out the entire Westcott Room and redoing it for space efficiency)

[brucethegirl]

I've been reading a lot of fics lately, I want to read more. But here's some of my favorites I've read recently:

Complete

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke

Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. AU Dark Hook in original curse

Make A Wish

Stuck in the Enchanted Forest after her wish was granted, Emma seeks out Killian. She doesn't expect what she finds. Canon divergence from 6x11 on

Christmas Wars: A New Hope

The last thing Emma Swan expects when she shows up for her sister's destination Christmas wedding is to find an irresistible groomsman with all the right looks and all the wrong opinions - about everything. But there's something beneath the bickering, something a lot softer than it seems on the surface, and Emma and Killian both find a new hope after heartbreak and loss. AU contemporary

No More Interruptions

She hadn't seen him in five years. Five years since her parents had interrupted them when they both had been on the cusp on moving beyond just being friends. Five years of wondering if he ever thought of her or even cared anymore. Now it was her birthday and he was back, making her question everything. (Captain Swan AU, Lieutenant Duckling verse. One-Shot)

Breathless

Emma and Killian share more than just a heart. Smut that turns really emotional and intense trauma discussion Canon divergent season 5.

The Legend of Captain Killian Jones

Cursed three hundred years ago to take on ghost form and haunt his family estate, Killian Jones receives a reprieve once every hundred years to take on corporeal form in order to try and break his curse. A renowned restorationist, Emma Swan takes on the project of bringing the three hundred year old Jones Manor back to its former glory. A manor that is reportedly haunted by the notorious Captain Killian Jones. Good thing Emma doesn’t believe in ghosts. AU Contemporary and ghosts

A Case of You

A "Practical Magic" AU in which Killian is a twice-cursed witch who's home after a murder, Emma is a single mom and deputy that's new to town, and their paths cross in ways they never expected.

A Gentleman Never Tells

Right after saving Henry in Neverland, Pan puts Emma under a Sleeping Curse that only romantic love can break. Hook's kiss wakes her, but in the confusion of the moment, it appears to everyone else, including Emma, that it was Neal's kiss that woke her. As the group celebrates and Hook empties his flask alone, he can't help thinking it is better this way.

Incomplete

When I Saw Your Face

Emma escapes the castle at night to experience the kingdom she will one day, reluctantly, rule and meets a pirate captain who might be more than he seems. AU princess/pirate

like if cleopatra grew up in a small town

Henry needs a dad. That's fine. Emma can deal with that. The problem? Neal wants more. The second problem? Emma keeps running into Hook and, despite trying to keep it friendly between them, finds herself falling in love.

You, Me, and Who You Used to Be

After getting her parents back on track, Emma’s magic returns. But before she can conjure a portal home, Killian is abducted. Alone in a world she knows nothing about and with no idea how to find Killian, Emma enlists the only person—or rather, pirate—who would be as motivated to save Killian as she is. However… Killian’s past may just be what destroys the future. CS Movie Divergence

Darkness Will Be Rewritten

A delay of five minutes can alter someone's destiny entirely. Imagine what a delay of eighteen years might do. The first eighteen years of Emma's life is a black void. And after ten years of having no memories for those years, a boy shows up at her door, claiming he's her son. He takes her to Storybrooke and she finds herself staying, trying to deny the connection she feels not only to the boy, but also to the fisherman he hangs out with that smells like rum and has eyes that remind her of a home she can't even remember. (While this is complete, the sequel is not)

To Read

Uncharted Neverland

Princess Emma swan saviour to her people is trapped in a dangerous island with no escape, were she meets Captain Hook known pirate, his mission is to find a lost fortune on the uncharted island, this treasure may also hold the key to escaping Neverland. CS AU princess/pirate

[cmaidaartworkblog]

I finally got around to compiling some of the extraneous, in-service-of-the-main-feature maps for the "Runaway to the Stars" Scud-planet commission that I thought were also worth showing, some because they reveal something unique about this planet's qualities, others because they're pretty, and mostly both. There's a good handful of those and a *lot* of explanatory text, so that's all below the cut.

First we have the maps that bridge the gap between wind data and precipitation. This pair of animated maps demonstrates, first, the Orographic effect that would theoretically result from winds blowing in each of the eight cardinal directions across the planet's whole surface, and, second, the Orographic effects which are actually produced by the local prevailing winds for each season. For both of these, darker values mark where the topography prevents moist air from precipitating (a rain shadow, on the leeward side of a raised terrain feature) and lighter values show where the topography catches most of the airborne moisture before the wind blows over it (a rain-highlight, on the windward side of a raised feature).

__________

The first static map, looking like a meticulously customized Jawbreaker, roughly represents the inland distance over which air has to travel from various bodies of water (also accounting for vertical distance in the form of mountains and the sizes of the bodies of water providing the moist air), which is another factor in where rain is able to fall.

__________

Another static map, included entirely for aesthetic reasons, demonstrates (in white) where at least ten times as much rain falls in the wettest month of summer as in the driest month of winter. The cyan end of the gradient represents where only 3 times as much rain falls, in that comparison. This was a step in figuring out what areas would qualify as Dry Winter (climate type Cw) in the climate zone maps, which ended up being completely nonexistent once all the other requirements of that climate type were measured for. All of the areas marked in white (meeting that 10x ratio requirement for Dry Winter) ended up falling under Arid or Semiarid instead.

__________

For comparison, *this* map shows (in cyan through magenta) where there is at least three times as much precipitation in the wettest month of winter as in the driest month of summer, one of the requirements for Mediterranean climate (or Dry Summer, climate type Cs). Not all of the marked areas ended up meeting all requirements for the final climate zone map, either, but at least *some* did, falling just outside the Arid/Semiarid areas.

__________

Another precipitation-related map, this one instrumental in figuring out vegetation density, demonstrates the reliability of significant rainfall. Specifically, this represents how many months in a row a given area receives at least 60 millimeters of precipitation per month, with areas in white receiving this amount for every month of the year, areas in black experiencing no months with that much rainfall, and shades of grey showing where this much rainfall persists for anywhere from one to eleven months in a row. The second map attached here shows that data broken down for the exact number of months.

__________

Next, here is a map that helped me find where Upwelling would occur seasonally. Since material from deeper waters is brought to the surface by the general movement of water *away from* the coasts, and since water is moved in that direction by winds blowing *perpendicular to* the coasts (counterclockwise for the northern hemisphere on a retrograde-spin planet like this, and clockwise for its southern hemisphere), it was crucial that I first determine what directions the coasts themselves were facing, with red marking coasts that face north, yellow for coasts that face west, cyan for coasts facing south, and blue for those facing east. This particular map was produced by taking a blurred elevation map of the shallows, using it as the displacement texture for a flat Plane in Blender, and pointing different colored lights at it from the eight cardinal directions.

__________

One of the very last elements that I mapped out for this planet was the discharge of sediments from the rivers into seas and terminal lakes, which required a *lot* of steps. The first of these was to isolate the different major drainage basins that would deliver water to various sections of the coastal shallows, as seen in the first, multicolored map. In the second map, we see the surface areas of each of the drainage basins, in the third map we see the average density of vegetation within each basin, and in the final map I've combined this data to show the overall total amount of vegetation in each basin, which should roughly correlate with how much organic material ends up washing out to sea, since river discharge volume and vegetation density are both (largely) contingent on the same factor: precipitation.

All told this is only a tiny fraction of the maps that were part of the overall pipeline. On Reddit you should be able to see these images in higher resolution, so I'm including a link to the corresponding post here