Sorry this took so long to answer, babe. I’ve been mulling over it slowly while dealing with some stuff this week. So, some headcanons!
Killian very often helps Henry with his homework, particularly English (language and literature are his strengths, “little magic baby tree thing” notwithstanding) and Math. Science is kind of more Emma’s thing (thanks to Regina’s magic lessons, an old fondness for chemistry has popped back up) but Killian finds it fascinating and usually hangs out to learn stuff he hadn’t known before. (Although he proves himself far and beyond better at physics than Emma ever was.)
Family work-outs are a thing. Sword fighting practice in the backyard, hiking and running, boxing (Storybrooke has to have at least one gym), yoga on the back porch… They want to always be prepared for whatever new threat arrives in town. But also it’s just fun and great for family bonding.
So many afternoons on the Jolly. So. Many. Henry can almost run the ship all by himself and Killian is a Proud Dad.
Henry has a queue for movie nights. He has to have Killian watch every important film he’s missed out on. He’s take-it-or-leave-it about Star Wars, but adores Indiana Jones. He understandably chooses “The Princess Bride” as his favorite film, to Emma’s delight.
Killian is fascinated by historical documentaries. Like, loves them. And they bore Emma and Henry to death. But they all can agree on the occasional space documentary as long as there are huge 3D animated visuals.
Henry sometimes calls Killian ‘Dad’ accidentally. It just slips. He doesn’t always notice it. Killian does, every time.
Emma and Killian are really romantic and mushy and Henry only pretends to be grossed out about it. Not that it doesn’t make him feel a little awkward, but he’s happy that his mom is so open like this, total 180º from when he first met her.
While at home, at any moment Killian can probably be heard singing or humming. Henry doesn’t know any of the songs, probably a bunch of old shanties he learned centuries ago. Emma doesn’t care either way; she just doesn’t want him to stop.
Do you really think now is the best time for a canoeing trip?
Of course. I know how important it is to you. That's why we constantly mention our plans to go canoeing. Not a day goes by that we don't curse the newest villain for trying to destroy the town because it delays our chance to canoe.
When have we ever talked about canoeing?
This might be our only chance to go off and do this before Gideon regroups and attacks me again.
Was the canoeing trip even my idea?
Let's go make one last memory as mother and son before the forces of evil attack again and the show remembers that I'm the main character.
Oh! This is a plot dodging trip.
Obviously. And it would work a lot better if you played along.
You're still bringing your gun in case Gideon decides to poof in and attack us on the river though, right?
I need some ShieldShock since Emma is inundating my feed with pantsless Chris Evans.
Word Count: 490
Tags: No Powers AU, Lumberjack!Steve, Meet-Cute
A/N: Shameless self-indulgence on my part. This is bearded lumberjack Steve who reads Jane Austen. But if I can’t have this in fanfiction, where can I have it?
Darcy would be lying if she said she didn’t like it when the loggers came through. Ever since she was old enough to appreciate the male form, she liked to hang out at the diner where they frequented. Just to catch a glimpse of all that muscle in flannel shirts.
This wasn’t to say that every single one who came through looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model…but some did.
Like the one sitting all by his lonesome at the end of the bar. Coincidentally beside the only empty stool in the whole place. He was sculpted in the likeness of Adonis. With a red flannel checkered shirt and jeans that were obviously made especially to adorn his perfect ass.
Oh and his perfectly shaggy beard. Let’s not forget the beard, shall we?
And to top it all off, he was reading a book.
So he was basically porn on two legs. Unbutton a few buttons, and he’d be on the cover of those romance novels she loved reading so much. She didn’t care which buttons. Just pick a few and unbutton them.
“This seat taken?” she asked, drawing his attention.
He turned to look at her with blue eyes so deep they probably housed things yet undiscovered by the scientific community. “Not yet.”
“Mind if I do?”
“Not at all.” He dog-earred the page of the book, which made Darcy cringe a little, but it was his book, he could do what he wanted with it.
“You come here often?” he asked, grinning widely. She could swear his teeth sparkled.
She shrugged. “Depends.”
“If there are people like you here…”
“People like me?” He glanced around at the other patrons. The implication was obvious. People like him were a dime a dozen.
Darcy was out to prove him wrong on that.
“Yeah…people who work as loggers and yet read…” She turned his book slightly to center the title. “Pride and Prejudice in greasy spoon diners….oh my god.” Darcy looked up into his eyes. “Are you even real?” She reached out to poke his shoulder. “Or did I dream you up?”
He laughed. “It’s for a class, actually…I’m taking online classes…trying to finish out my bach degree…no offense, but this isn’t my cup of tea.”
Ugh. Maybe he was too good to be true. He was probably about to start in with why he hated the romance genre and blah blah blah mansplaining.
“Yeah…I liked Emma better? I felt like it really was her better work…”
“Oh? Do tell. I’m Darcy Lewis by the way…” she stuck out her hand.
“Steve Rogers,” he replied, taking it. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee first, because I’m actually planning on writing my end of term paper on this? But I need to bounce some theories off someone who doesn’t have trees on the brain…” he gestured to the man seated on his right.
This will be a multi chapter fic that takes place eight months into their marriage. It will take you through the incredible journey of Emma Swan and Killian Jones pregnancy. It will be full of love, tears, joy, and of course a little smut;) Should be updating soon!
Her whole body hurt. It was like Emma couldn’t get a break. Dealing with the town, being the sheriff, and handling what ever crisis had arrived in between. Being ill was not going to work for her full time schedule. But per her family and Killian’s request she has been ordered to bed, and to stay there.
Of course she didn’t go down without a fight saying that David needed help at the station. David solved that problem. Emma’s now husband is acting deputy, helping out until Emma is back on her feet. Killian argued at first saying that he needed to be there at home to take care of her. It was sweet of him, but she wasn’t ten. She could take care of herself.
Emma did love how her father and Killian were getting along again. There had been some bad blood for a while, but it seemed to have worked itself out as she thought it would. It was even David’s idea to have Hook stay on as a permanent deputy, saying that had extra money in the budget to bring him on part time.
Emma hoped that she would only be gone for only a day or so, but it had been almost a week of this shit. She could barely keep any food down, her body ached, and her temperature was elevated for the majority of the day. And then, like night and day she was better. Just like that, like nothing happened. Emma was back to work and life went on as usual.
Her father and husband were on patrol while Emma and her mother were getting weeks worth of paperwork caught up. They were carrying on normal motherly daughter conversation. Talking about married life and how Henry was doing in school when Emma sensed a familiar feeling deep in her gut. She dropped the files in her hands and booked it to the bathroom, barely making it in time.
“Emma honey, are you alright?” Snow worried through the door.
Here Lies Part One of Two (I am incapable of brevity)
It was all David Nolan’s fault.
He was the one who’d decided to quit, swapping law enforcement for cleaning out rabbit hutches and walking three-legged dogs.
“It’s a better work-life balance,” he’d admitted sheepishly, when Emma had first found out. “Leo keeps having these little milestones, and I want to be around to see them.”
And though Emma was justifiably angry, she couldn’t really fault him on his priorities. Spending time with your wife and infant son was undoubtedly a better way to spend one’s evenings than breaking up bar fights outside The Rabbit Hole and beating Emma’s high score on Minesweeper on their ancient desktop.
So yeah, she understood. She accepted it, even. But she was still down a Deputy, with tourist season approaching. It was this reason, and this reason only, she even considered hiring Killian Jones.
Inspired by user FlamingFoxNinja’s prompt of, what if Humans are the only ones capable of acting, or hiding emotions or lying. Enjoy.
If you have a prompt you want me to work on, or want to add to this your own twists and spins, fire away :D
A siren began to blare throughout the ship, calls for battle stations were sent as well as a distress beacon. “Oh what is it now?” Derrick grumbled as he woke up, a trail of drool coming down his lip.
“Emergency,” Emma stated as she had already re-equipped her armor and weapon. She moved to open the door, pointing towards the crew that dashed about in a panic. “We should help them escape.”
“Yes!” Derrick leaped from the bed and rubbed his hands together, “And discuss proper payment for our assistance.”
“Did they not teach you selflessness in the Navy?” Emma raised her brow and spoke with a condescendingly appropriate tone.
“Special Forces taught selflessness, The Black Suns taught survival and profitability.” He smirked. Derrick held his military standards to high regard, but his time with the infamous mercenaries by the name of Black Suns was something he held to an even higher degree. “Didn’t teach you that kind of thinking in the Terran Navy Officers now did they?”
Emma shook her head, “You are truly an idiot.”
“True… But you saved this idiot, now come, come, let us go and make a rescue!” Derrick proclaimed proudly.
The two companions made their way through the panicked hallways of crew, feeling the occasional rumble and spotting the pirate vessels outside. “Light Frigates,” Emma commented with a stoic gaze. “Never seen the colors.”
“Probably independent. In my youth I ran with tougher gangs before the Black Suns. These guys are probably nothing.” Derrick chuckled softly.
“Bat’Ga’s! Bat’Ga’s are trying to board!” One of the crew shouted as they ran throughout the ship. Bat’Ga’s, one of the most aggressive mammalian species found in the galaxy, next to humans. Word spread that while their populations were peaceful and well respected merchants, their warriors who could find no peace in the merchant caste became outlaws, and highly sought after crew members of pirate fleets. Their speed, strength, and endurance were rivaled only by the Humans.
“Probably nothing?” Emma turned to Derrick whose mouth hung slightly open.
“I, well,” he chuckled and shrugged his arms, “Nothing and something so often sound the same, I do not blame you for hearing different, my friend,” he chuckled. Derrick knew full well the horrors the Bat’Ga’s of the warrior caste could inflict. Though they were honorable, these pirates were usually without any. Weapons of Mass Destruction, chemical weapons, targeting innocents and children, they were truly the ‘Bastards of Space’ as humans called them. “Lets have a word with the captain… I actually have a plan, so to speak.”
“Does it involve explosive squid again?” Emma practically scoffed.
“That was an honest mistake!” He stomped his foot down and looked up at her with a frown, more embarrassed than anything else. “How was I suppose to know those chemicals were explosive in the digestive system of a Zorkonian?” He realized his words and cleared his throat, “Anyway, let’s find the captain yeah?” He waved his hand as he began to make his way towards the bridge.
Once they arrived, they were both greeted with a sight that made the years they spent in the military weep with sorrow at the sheer atrocity that was it’s organization. Crew members were panicking, systems were failing, these merchants clearly had never seen a firefight in their lives. “Sloopy, even by MY standards,” Derrick shook his head as he clicked his tongue in a disappointed manner.
“They are not soldiers.” Emma nudged him softly.
“Unfortunately for them, that kind of innocence isn’t forever. Everyone is a soldier this far out.” Derrick took a step forward and whistled to gain the attention of the Captain.
“Human? Thank goodness you are here! We require your assistance!” The Captain looked to him with pleading eyes, her feathers puffed up in a sign of desperation.
“Ah of course, of course, but your people cannot fight?” He raised his brow curiously. “Captain Ta’talia was it? Surely your people know how to fight? You have armed guards aboard? Automated weapons? Anything?”
“We’ve,” she hesitated and looked around at her crew, “We’ve never had need of them, our automated weapons systems have always protected us. We barely have enough blasters for everyone. But these pirates deployed some kind of EMP. It didn’t hit everything though, specifically just the weapons and shields. They’re using a jamming signal of some kind as well.” Captain Ta’talia looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “To top it off there are three light frigates!”
“Bat’Ga’s?” Derrick took a few steps forward and began to slowly walk around the Captain, examining the ship and the crew that looked at them with desperation. “Not purely, but most of the crew is from the designs on the ship I would say … That is dangerous game, very dangerous.” He smiled softly and stopped as he was in front of her, facing the outside of the bridge into the void of space.
“Please we need your help! You and your companion said you were apart of the Terran Republic’s military! Please assist!” She pleaded to them.
“7 million credits… And if you have any cigars on board I will gladly take a crate of them, no matter the species they are tailored to!” He stated proudly before turning to look at the Captain’s terrified face.
“W-What?” Captain Ta’talia gasped at his words, “You … You would make us pay in our time of need?!”
“Quite right.” Derrick seemed without a care at their pleas.
“But you are Terran Republic Military! You’re people help in these times of need!” She protested.
“Yes, but I said we were on a bounty, of sorts, so that means money can take us away from our current goals.” Derrick fired back without hesitation.
Emma wanted to stop him, but couldn’t bring herself too. She knew what he was doing. Get the money, pay for her brother’s arm. Not just any prosthetic, but a full fledged bionic arm. They were pricey, but with a little money, threats, and smooth talking they could get him the care they needed, at a price they could afford. Though her heart was torn as she saw him do this. Even if it was an act and he didn’t want to, he was doing what was needed. The captain finally stomped her foot forward and glared at Derrick, letting out a hiss even. “If the ship goes down you’ll go down to!”
“Not really,” Derrick shrugged. “The pirates could easily destroy this ship and take everything from the vacuum, salvage the ship too. They want it. Maybe they’ll execute the crew, maybe they’ll take us as slaves. I’m confident in my companion and I’s skills to escape capture, and if captured then escape slavery with ease. We’ve done it before in our military campaigns.”
Captain Ta’talia swallowed and gave a chirp like whimper. After a long drawn out silence, she nodded, “Ok … Get rid of these pirates… And it’s yours.” She glared.
“Not all of us are greedy, Captain … Just me,” Derrick chuckled as he left to exit the bridge. “Come, my friend. We have pirates to slaughter!” He laughed loudly and obnoxiously, wanting the crew to hear them and believe they were the monsters he wanted them to be seen as.
Once they were far enough away, Emma growled at him. “I refuse to take another life, you know this. How are we suppose to fight off pirates? You can’t take them all, and I refuse to do anything more then subdue them. That is too many though!” She stomped her foot and looked as though she was about to strangle him.
“Patience, my friend… Remember, you LOOK like you want to kill… Bat’Ga’s will fear your size, and they will fear my words. We will not need to kill them. For you see, the Captain said get rid of them, not kill them.” He chuckled as they moved to the airlock and waited, alone.
“This better work,” Emma sighed, nervous as her heart began to beat faster. She didn’t want to kill anymore. Not again. No more innocent blood could be on her hands, not another accident. She shuddered before bringing herself up to stand tall and proud.
Outside, three boarding parties made their way towards the same airlock, armed to the teeth and ready for battle. Their commander and boarding party leader stood at the front. His tusks were sharpened and fur a healthy color of brown. This bipedal species were proudly bearing their armor, and some even licked their lips. “Blood for the Gods, Blood for honor, and the spoils of battle to each their own!” The Pirate shouted. His crew joined in, and began to chant the saying over and over, fueling their rising blood lust.
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW. What? Cliff hangers are fun :3 (Updates nightly, usually)
Happy Valentine’s Day @pirateherokillian! I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to talk to you more than I did over the past few weeks, but I’ve had fun being your CSSV and getting to know you a bit more. Since you said you liked enemies to friends/lovers, I did my own take on this prompt, although the end result is much more light hearted and fluffy than I originally intended- hope that’s okay! I hope you enjoy reading this and have a wonderful Valentine’s Day ♥
Killian has never liked Valentine’s Day. So, naturally, he’s not thrilled when the woman who seems to hate him is assigned to be his substitute assistant teacher on the day in question.
He’s never liked this day. The one time every year when pink and red hearts seem to take over every store window, TV advertisements, and this year, even his workplace thanks to Ruby.
Not that he has anything against love. Quite the opposite, in fact. It seemed like yesterday when he had love, when it was the thing that got him out of bed most mornings. But fate hadn’t been kind to him where love was concerned. Even now, though he’s made quite the effort to move on, he’d be lying if he said that just the thought of February fourteenth didn’t make him slightly bitter every year.
Still, his own failing love life isn’t what bothers Killian the most about Valentine’s Day. What’s always irked him the most is seeing couples, most only hanging on by a thread, suddenly willing to show their love for one another just because this particular day in February called for it. (And then going back to their old ways on the fifteenth.)
You’d think he would be used to seeing the elaborate decorations in the school office, in the teacher’s lounge, and all over the hallway after seeing them every day for almost two weeks now, but he still cringes a bit at the sight when he walks into work on Tuesday morning. Despite how great of a friend and coworker she’d been to him over the past year, he couldn’t help but ask why the bloody hell Ruby and several of the other teachers insisted on garnishing the place, especially considering the fact that she was single herself and had already said she’d be celebrating the occasion at home alone with a bottle of wine. (“Think of the children,” she’d usually tell him. He’d usually reply that his fourth graders probably didn’t care about more than just getting candy from their friends at school.)
SQ au where Emma and Regina are forced into working together in a restaurant. Regina is a badass chef, and is trying to make a real name for herself in the food industry. Emma is just a cook, that isn’t classically trained but through their working together Emma becomes a much better chef and duh they totally fall in love. — via @thetardis-is-acylonraider
Hey! I don't know if you got my earlier request. Could you do a fic where Henry is starting kindergarten at a new school and Regina is the principal. They have a series of parent/teacher conferences and fall in love? 😊
Thanks for the prompt anon :)
Regina Mills smiles as she watches the children filter in for the first day of school. The older kids all slump in as they look for friends so they can catch up on what happened over summer.
Regina smiles at them but her favourite group to greet are the kindergarteners. They always rush in with excitement and bright happy smiles and it reminds her of why she wanted to be a principal in the first place.
Genuine ask, no drama. What makes Regina and Killian's redemptions so different for you? (besides their different treatments of Emma)
Killian works to be a better man, accepts that he fucked up and assume the responsibility of his past actions, feels guilty about his past and acts out of selflessness/because it’s the right thing to do now that he’s learnt to be a hero. He may fuck up sometimes, but he’s trying. He’s working hard to get his happy ending even thought he probably doesn’t think he deserves it.
Regina blames her misery on other people, is yet to feel genuinely guilty for her past actions and acts offended when her victims don’t forgive her right away. She’s selfless in her “heroic” actions in that she only does the right thing if it benefits her first. She actually believes the Evil Queen is another persona that she can just shover into a broom closet as if nothing bad ever happened. She wants her happy ending handed to her on a silver platter because she deserves it.
Hey guys, remember me? I’m really really sorry I haven’t updated in two weeks! I’ve been going through some personal stuff and it’s been affecting my ability to write. Anyway I’m definitely going to update on Thursday, maybe before that to make up for my lack of posting (that is if you guys want a Part Ten). Have a wonderful day and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Emma pov A few months ago, if someone were to tell me I’d be spending my morning with my lips attached to my husband’s, I would have thought them crazy. But today it’s the most natural thing the world to be close to him, to feel his touch. This morning in particular we were hours late for breakfast due to Luke’s stubbornness and the fact that I have trouble denying him of what we both want. “Luke we should really go to breakfast,” I say although I have no desire to move an inch. He only hums and continues to mark my neck with love bites while I thread my fingers through his hair. But at the sound of three timid knocks at the door, I push Luke to get off me and I frantically attempt to make my bedclothes presentable while he quickly covers his lap with a pillow. Two maids enter the room carrying a tray piled a variety of breakfast foods, followed by Queen Liz. “Since you two decided to sleep through our morning meal, I’ve had it brought to you. How are you meant to rule a country someday if you don’t eat a proper breakfast?” she says as she opens the deep blue drapes. I chew on my lip nervously, hoping she doesn’t realize what we were doing a minute ago. And although our kisses were fairly innocent with the exception of a few touches here and there, it would still be awkward for Luke’s mother of all people to have caught us in the act. Liz looks back and forth between us and something clicks in her head. “Ahh, I see why you didn’t come down to breakfast,” “Mum-” Luke starts while my cheeks turn pink. “No, by all means carry on. Since Ben and Jack refuse to settle down, maybe I’ll finally get my first grandchild from you two,” she smiles to herself and rushes herself and the maids out the door. “She can be so infuriating sometimes,” Luke huffs as I grab the tray and reach for a piece of fruit. “She means well,” I say, handing him a strawberry. “I know… I just don’t want you to feel pressured by her or anyone else. We won’t have sex until you’re ready,” he reassures me. I bury my face into his chest in an attempt to hide my blush. He snickers like he usually does when I blush at the mention of sex. We’ve talked about it several times, and I’m still hesitant after my encounter with that guard a few months ago. Luke’s used to taking things extremely fast, but he understands why I want to wait. “Thank you,” I say, listening to his steady heartbeat that got a little quicker each time I pressed a small kiss to his chest. “For what darling?” “For looking out for me, for understanding. I know you must be miserable having to wait for me.” “I’m a hundred times happier with you, like this, than I was with any of those other girls. I think I might be in-” he was cut off by our door opening once again. “Yes?” Luke says, slightly annoyed at the maid who had just opened the door without knocking. “I’m sorry for my intrusion, your majesty, but it’s urgent. The King and Queen of France have just arrived and request an audience with Princess Emmaline immediately,” she stutters. “Why would my parents be here?” I ask, completely shocked at their impromptu visit. I dismiss the maid and rush out of bed to my wardrobe, trying to find a suitable dress. Luke comes up behind me while slipping on a shirt. “I like that one,” he says, pointing to a particularly revealing dress. “Of course you do,” I roll my eyes, “but I can’t wear that. My parents are relentlessly judgemental, their favorite hobby is to nit-pick everything I do. I have to wear something appropriate.” I finally decide on a pale pink dress with a high cut neckline. Luke reads a large book on the bed, looking up at me sympathetically as I squirm and wince at the maids tightening my corset. … My parents are waiting in a large drawing room, a warm fire lit to keep out the fast approaching cold weather. Luke and I must stay at a respectful distance, as it is considered improper to touch your spouse in public unless you’re dancing. They almost look unfamiliar to me. Of course I remember my mother’s long, dark hair (similar to mine) and my father’s cold, calculating eyes; but it seems like they are from a far away dream. King Andrew and Queen Liz stand off to the side, looking apprehensively at their guests. Luke bows politely, greeting my parents in a friendly manner. My mother nods to him, but my father looks at Luke as if he’s some pesky gnat. Next, I hesitantly hug my mother and she seems to have genuinely missed me because she sheds a few tears and clutches me closer. Father barely glances at me, it seems he’s more interested in the room. I know what he’s looking for: signs of wealth to show that the English kingdom is prospering. He’s sizing up his enemy. “Well I have to say, this marriage couldn’t have worked out better. Emma is an absolute delight, she’s like the daughter I never had,” Liz smiles in an attempt to make conversation. My mother hardly notices as she’s too busy mentally criticizing my dress. “Yes well she was quite the pest to us. Talked far too much for a lady and the only suitor she could attract was the son of a wealthy landowner. She wasn’t much use to us. I hope she doesn’t cause you any trouble, if she does don’t hesitate to remind her of her place,” my father says, drinking some wine and grumbling about how superior French wine is. I keep my head down and remind myself that speaking up only makes things worse, but when I look up at Luke, his jaw is tense and he looks angry. I quickly put my hand on his, trying to keep him calm. “Anne,” father speaks to my mother now, “why don’t you women folk go somewhere else. Let the men talk.” I look to Liz and the expression on her face is unreadable as she and mother stand from the lounge. “Come along Emma,” my mother says strictly. Judging from the glare my father gives Luke, there’s about to be a serious conversation. I squeeze his hand reassuringly once more before scurrying after my mother. We begin walking down a long corridor to have tea most likely. “Emmaline, I thought I taught you you’re not to touch your husband in the company of others,” my mother growls. “I’m afraid that’s my fault, Anne. I haven’t been strict enough with them. I yearn for a grandchild a little too much,” Liz speaks up. “Ah speaking of grandchildren, why aren’t you with child yet, Emmaline?” Mother moves on to the next subject with speed. I only purse my lips, not sure how to tell her we haven’t even thought about producing an heir. “Answer me, you should be heavily pregnant by now, you’ve been married for almost six months.” “There were some… complications when we first met,” I mumble. “My son can be quite stubborn. They weren’t even on speaking terms for the first month of the marriage,” Liz explains. “Yes, Elizabeth, but her first priority is to have as many heirs to the throne as soon as possible. That is her purpose until she becomes queen,” my mother whines as we sit down to tea. The rest of the afternoon was filled with mother’s constant nagging and all I could do was sit there and wait till evening when I would finally be alleviated of her presence.
… The second mother left to prepare for dinner, I ran to my quarters before she could change her mind. Leaning against the door, I sigh at the thought of having to go back down to my parents in less than half an hour for the evening celebration. I spot Luke sitting on a chair, staring off into space, and looking like he’s just seen a ghost. “Rough day?” I chuckle, walking up behind him. “You have no idea,” he groans contently when I start to run my fingers through his hair, knowing it relaxes him, “How did your day go?” “Probably not much better than yours,” I answer. “Your father is…” he trails off probably not sure how to finish his sentence. “Insufferable? I know,” I suggest as I start shuffle through my dresses for an evening gown. Suddenly I was so incredibly over it. Over their rules, over their criticism, and over how they’ve controlled every aspect of my life. I pulled the dress Luke had expressed a liking to this morning off its hanger and told Luke to turn around so I could change. “Wow,” Luke says once I’m done. “Do you like it?” I ask, ruffling the red material. “I love it,” he says as he grips my waist and pulls me closer, “but I’m not sure the King and Queen of France will.” “That’s the point,” I grin. “Oh I get it, you finally hit your teenage rebellion stage. It’s about time, you almost had me convinced that you wouldn’t have one,” he smirks at me. I roll my eyes and tug his hand to pull him out the door. “C’mon Hemmings we’ve got a party to go to”
People are gonna tell you who you are your whole life. You just gotta punch back and say, “No, this is who I am”. You want people to look at you differently? Make them. You want to change things, you’re gonna have to go out there and change them yourself, because there are no fairy godmothers in this world.
remember this amazing speech emma fucking swan delivered in 1x04? remember how most of us fell in love with her because of it? because she gets it? because she’s real and amazing and knows how the world works?
THIS is the reason why that ‘i’m in’ with fucking operation 'gimme my happy ending because i soooooo deserve it’ makes no fucking sense
because emma fucking swan KNOWS better than anyone that YOU have to work for YOUR crap, and it is never given to you just because (not even by 'asking nicely’ to this mysterious author)
so if you wanna go and believe/say that it is soooo in character for this emma/regina mission together isn’t just fanpandering to shut up that part of the fandom, i’m sorry but i will just call you a fucking liar
I am a millennial. Generation Y. Born between the birth of AIDS and 9/11, give or take. They call us the Global Generation. We are known for our entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where a kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post every time we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see. But it seems that our one defining trait is a numbness to the world, an indifference to suffering.