katie-dub

[katie-dub]

If your political philosophy is about finding the “bad” or “undeserving” and ensuring they struggle, I can’t identify with it.

Imagine if we took the cop budget and turned it into a free ride service budget

#👏👏👏 #honestly this applies to so many things in life #poverty is cruel and fucks people up #then we punish people for being fucked up and keep them poor

[katie-dub]

The Staged New Year’s Special (8mins)! :) Wahoo! :)

[katie-dub]

the new year may not be a completely fresh start, but it is a signpost on the journey of your life. take a moment to rest and reflect on where you’ve been. take some time to think about where you’d like to go next. forgive yourself for the things you haven’t been able to do. delight in planning for things you hope to do in the future. for one magical moment you have a bright new year with no mistakes in it yet. enjoy it. you’ve earned it. ❤

[katie-dub]

I HAVE WAITED ALL YEAR TO POST THIS

#merry Christmas Eve #one more sleep

[katie-dub]

light on the darkest night

To my dearest @katie-dub​​ who (like many of us) has had a hell of a year, but who has handled it all with grace and kindness and only the occasional outburst of righteous anger. Here’s a little solstice celebration just for you, a warm mid-wintery hug of a fic with absolutely no plot to speak of, set in the universe of A Uniquely Portable Magic.  

AO3

-

The night is dark, the darkest of the year. The night of the day that barely breaks, that arrives in grey dawn and departs in greyer twilight, the night of pitch black skies with pinprick stars and the cold glow of a winter’s moon. 

Humans, though, Killian reflects, on the whole don’t care for darkness. They don’t abide it well, and from the dawn of time have found their ways to brighten even that darkest night. Every land he’s travelled to, every tradition he’s encountered, every history of every ancient culture is the same. Faced with the long dark of the winter solstice humans come together and they light up the night. 

This particular Midwinter’s Eve finds Killian on a quest in the streets of the city, strolling briskly through air that’s cutting cold, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets and chin tucked into the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. The streets are busy as they tend to be this time of year, darkness notwithstanding. They are bustling with last-minute shoppers, lively with carollers, fragrant with the aromas of roasting chestnuts and mulled wine. The crowds heave, the people within them seethe and clamour, but Killian moves easily through the chaos. His way is cleared for him as he goes along; the crowds part to let him pass then close again behind him as though he’d never been. In a sense, he never was. He is invisible to these people, unless he takes pains to make himself seen. 

This he does to the chestnut-seller, appearing before her with a smile carefully cultivated to take the edge off her alarm. She gives a start despite his efforts, and presses the palm of her hand against her heart. 

“Goodness me!” she exclaims. “I didn’t see you there.” 

“Sorry,” says Killian, his expression warmly apologetic. “I imagine it’s hard to keep track of everyone coming and going in such a crowd.” 

“That must be it,” she agrees with a laugh. “Well, now you’re here what can I get for you?” 

“I’d like one large bag, please.” 

“Coming right up.” She takes up a metal scoop and digs into the pan of red-brown nuts beside her. “Got any shopping left to do?” she inquires as she tips them into a paper bag striped with red and green. 

“A bit,” he replies. “Odds and ends, you know how it is.” 

“I do,” she says, and tops off the bag with a final few nuts. With practiced dexterity she twists the corners tightly and hands it to him, a well-sealed parcel. “There always seems to be something you forget until the very last minute.” 

“Aye, that’s it precisely.” He exchanges money for the bag, then accepts his change. 

“Well, I hope you find everything you’re looking for,” says the seller, smiling widely. “Merry Christmas.” 

He leans in ever so slightly with his head angled just so, catches her gaze with his and holds it until her jaw slackens and her eyes go soft. “Nadelik Lowen,” he replies in a gentle voice, resonant in a way it surely shouldn’t be amidst such a noisy crowd. “Ha bledhen Nowyth Da.” 

She nods and he releases her as he melts into the crowd, turns and heads away before he can see her blink back into awareness or the small shake she gives her head, the odd little smile that curves her lips as she greets another customer. The customer is harried and stressed and snaps at her but the seller’s bright cheer doesn’t waver. She chats determinedly and coaxes a laugh, and sends him on his way with a large bag of chestnuts (though he paid for a small) and a feeling of goodwill such as he hasn’t known since childhood. And when he finds his husband, with whom he’d quarrelled bitterly moments before, he links their arms together with a whispered apology and a soft smile. 

The seller watches them with warmth in her chest, the comfortable glow of a good deed well done. She’s forgotten Killian completely, but his blessing lingers. 

Killian tucks the chestnuts into the pocket of his coat and continues on his way, slipping silently through the crush until he comes to a corner no one around him is turning. He turns it, and finds himself engulfed within a very different crowd. 

There’s a festive bustle here as well, jolly sounds and lights and smells, louder and sharper than the ones he’s left. There’s mulled wine rich with spice simmering gently in a copper cauldron and meat roasting on a spit, sizzling and crackling as it turns. There’s a table piled high with fruit, winter berries and citrus, and another with cakes and cookies and round and crusty loaves of bread. 

These crowds don’t shift as Killian moves through them; these people don’t require his encouragement to see. Instead they hail him with the greetings of the season, jovial claps on his shoulder and mugs of wine pressed into his hands, invitations to eat and drink despite his protests that he’s already late. 

“It’s Midwinter’s Eve!” bellows Robin, and in another circumstance Killian would more than gladly sit and share a drink with his friend. They will share one, but that will have to wait for later. 

“Yes it is,” he agrees, “and we won’t have any chestnut cakes for the feast unless I get home.” 

“Very well, then,” Robin concedes. “But I’ll expect to see you back here for the turning of the season.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” 

He proceeds along the merry street, weaving through the throng with a confident stride unhindered by the uneven cobblestones beneath his boots, until he arrives at a dark green door, adorned with a wreath of holly and elder. He opens it and slips inside and when he closes it again behind him the clamour from the street is gone, leaving only soothing silence that settles over him like nighttime snow. 

He removes his boots and coat and scarf, takes the chestnuts from his pocket and heads into the parlour, where a fire is warm and crackling in the hearth, and a warmer woman is curled on the sofa before it, her feet clad in thick wool socks and a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. 

“Hey,” she greets him, tilting her cheek up to meet his kiss. “Tea’s still warm.” 

There’s a pot of it waiting for him on his sea chest and he inhales deeply as he pours himself a cup of the deep golden brew. Its aroma is sweet and softly spicy and the tiny, melting butter cookies piled on a plate beside the teapot pair it perfectly. He takes his tea and settles back into the sofa with a sigh.

“Did you get the chestnuts?” Emma asks, snuggling against his side as he wraps his arm around her. 

“Aye.” He nods to the bag he’s left on the sea chest. “Still warm.” 

Emma smiles and snuggles closer, and they sip in silence for a moment, watching the flames. 

Later they will grind the chestnuts into flour and bake it into palm-sized cakes with sugar, eggs, and yet more spice, adorn those cakes with berries and bring them out to the street to share in celebration of this darkest night. They will drink and laugh amongst their friends, eat roasted meat and fruit and cakes, they will dance together in the light of the log and stumble home once the season’s turned, warm and replete with food and drink and magic. They will collapse into their bed and curl up there together, and sleep away the dark hours of the morning until at last the grey dawn deigns to break. 

Later. Now they are content to sit with her head on his shoulder and his cheek resting on her hair, teacups warm in their hands and the fire crackling at their feet. 

-

tagging some fans of witch!Emma and this verse: @ohmightydevviepuu​, @thisonesatellite​, @kmomof4​, @snowbellewells​, @mariakov81​, @stahlop​, @optomisticgirl​, @spartanguard​

#happy solstice #the perfect cosy story to celebrate being halfway out of the dark #cs fic rec #profdanglaisstuff #light on the darkest night

[katie-dub]

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu

"the queen died in November but they're propping up her corpse in an elaborate weekend at bernies style charade to avoid having the longest reign in the history of the british monarchy locked in at 69 years" is my new favorite conspiracy theory. choosing to believe this for the rest of my life regardless of any evidence to the contrary

#not just me then

[katie-dub]

i think there should be more stories about gay people coming back from the dead

[katie-dub]

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: The Sweater Curse

I once read a thing about the Sweater Curse, which says that if you knit a sweater for your significant other, they’ll break up with you. So obviously I turned this into a Christmas CS AU and what happens when Emma makes Neal an ugly Christmas jumper.

AO3

The Sweater Curse

“Fuck Neal Cassidy,” announced Emma for approximately the thousandth time that night. “Fuck him, and fuck romance, and fuck love.”

Bleary-eyed she reached for her glass, noting with surprise that she had already finished her drink. She looked around for the bottle that had apparently vanished. “Where’d the rum go?”

“Don’t you think it’s time to switch to water?” Mary Margaret asked.

Emma turned to her, eyes flashing fire. Possibly. She was quite drunk and it was hard to focus on her friend. She knew that her endlessly hopeful friend was merely trying to look out for her, but it really wasn’t the time.

“Mary Margaret. I just spent the day in jail because the man I love -” her heart wrenched at the word “- loved tried to set me up for his crime. If it weren’t for your step-sister’s superior legal skills, I would likely still be there.” I should send Regina some thank you flowers or something, came the fleeting thought that Emma hoped she’d remember in the morning. “I will never have had enough rum.”

Keep reading

#cs christmas #is it bad that i want to make a tacky ugly sweater now? #you can tell from reading this fic just how classy it would be #😂

[katie-dub]

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: It Had to Be You

When Harry Met Sally festive Captain Swan AU

It’s holiday season and this makes me hella happy - I’ve got some festive one shots to share with you all throughout the month, because why not eh? Starting today with a little When Harry Met Sally AU. It’s my favourite non-holiday holiday film, because it isn’t about Christmas, but there’s a generous sprinkling of festivity.

AO3

It Had to Be You

Emma was sitting alone in her apartment on New Year’s Eve, telling herself that she was having fun. Who needed mandatory merriment at overpriced bars or overcrowded house parties? At home she could celebrate the season with her feet up, a pop tart in one hand and a cinnamon liqueur-laced hot chocolate in another.

And if a certain best friend of hers was notable by his absence, well that was for the best really. He’d only find all that pressure to kiss someone at midnight confusing.

“Happy New Year!” everyone had cried out when the clock struck midnight. And they immediately were surrounded by a sea of couples making out like tomorrow hadn’t just come.

She caught Killian’s eye, expecting to see her own bemusement reflected back at her. But his gaze was soft and intense and full of inexplicable longing. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, as she stared back at him. He looked like he wanted to kiss her desperately, like she meant the world to him, like he maybe even l-

But she couldn’t think like that, they couldn’t have that. She hadn’t even realised that she had moved closer to him until she came to her senses. She jerked back and it broke whatever spell Killian was under.

“Happy New Year,” they said together, throwing their arms around each other, laughing at their own awkwardness. He sighed into her embrace and she clutched him tighter. They could be together like this forever, she didn’t need more than friendship as long as she had him in her life.

Keep reading

#cs christmas #the most wonderful time of the year #happy festivus

[katie-dub]

Lumie Glass on Etsy

[katie-dub]

#writing advice

[katie-dub]

@thisonesatellite

[katie-dub]

CS AU: Lord of the Rings Crossover

“I do not believe this darkness will endure,” he said gently, slipping his hand around hers.

As she looked up at him, Emma felt her heart change, or else at last she finally understood it. And suddenly her winter passed, and the sun shone on her.

She smiled, speaking in a teasing tone before she could stop herself. “But would you have your proud folk say to you: ‘There goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North! Was there no woman of the race of Numenor for him to choose?’” “I would,” said Killian. And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many. (And many indeed saw them.) And the light shone about them as they came down from the walls and went hand in hand to the Houses of Healing.

Happiest birthday to the Rory to my Amy, my dear friend the-lady-swan​. I am so very happy to know you and count you as a friend. Luh you, boo!

#cs au #cs x lotr #this is perfect

[katie-dub]

#holy fuck #november #when did that happen

[katie-dub]

when did tumblr collectively decide not to use punctuation like when did this happen why is this a thing

#language #linguistics #very cool

[katie-dub]

Fam. 

I am super excited to share that I am publishing a book. 

This is the place where I’ve shared all of my writing. You were the first group that encouraged and supported me. So I feel like I owe a lot of this to you. Thank you - from the bottom of my heart. 

As such, I’d like to give this group first dibs on advanced copies. If you’d like one, drop me a note in my inbox and I’ll add your name to the distribution list. I’ll likely limit this to about 50 people. 

Lovelight Farms arrives November 10. If you read my fic Something Like You Love Me, I have a feeling you’ll like this one. 

Follow me on Instagram for the pre release link and all other book related news. I am so, so, so excited to share this with you. 

[katie-dub]

A porcupine’s Halloween present (+ original sound effects)