henry starving

k but if ur getting heart palpitations over people mocking the bourgeois assholes who are currently harmlessly stranded in the bahamas near a sandals resort who the us embassy is working tirelessly to get them on flights home but you don’t really give a fuck about literally any actual world event then 

honestly i don’t have a joke for ya’ll you’re just ???? genuinely on some kind of 18th century “but did the king really do anything wrong!!!!?!?! it’s not his fault we’re starving!!!” level


Flags were raised across England to mourn the loss of King Edmund I who was found on a bed of autumn leaves holding a cross. Many believed he was murdered by the witch but the truth would shock everyone who heard it.

While the peasantry still starved, Prince Henry, son of Edmund, had been succeding in a trade with The Netherlands of instant food and crops against a bethrotel between Gertruud Of Holland currently aged 2 and Henrys firstborn son, infant Arthur when they would one day come of age.

The peasantry planted their new crops immediately to hopefully harvest once more before autumn and the harvest festival.


an: for @whimsicallyenchantedrose, @swans-and-pirates, and @probalicious17 who asked for: “Emma’s pregnant and Killian suspects before she does” (or some variation of that) as part of my fic celebration! <3 Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy this!

When Emma enters the house, she makes a beeline for the couch and lies down, her eyes closing on a grateful relieved sigh. She’s exhausted and she’s famished and all she wants to do is curl up right here on the couch and forget that she’s the savior of this town, responsible for everyone’s Happy Ending.

Sometimes she forgets that she’s allowed to indulge in her own happiness and rest like Killian and her parents are always telling her to.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

could you write something where henry brings his first real girlfriend home to meet swen?

“Look, they’re just my moms, okay?” Henry told his girlfriend as he drove them toward the Mayoral mansion. “It’s not a big deal. Just relax.”

"They’re not just your moms, Henry,” the petite girl replied with a roll of her eyes. “One of your moms is the former Evil Queen and the other is the Savior and the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. That may not be a ‘big deal’ to you, but it is to virtually everyone else in this town.”

Henry chuckled as he bent down to press a quick kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. Puberty had made him sprout like a weed, and he had quickly passed both his mothers in height. Now, at sixteen, he was as tall as his grandfather and even beginning to pack on similar muscle tone given all the horseback riding and sword-fighting lessons.

His girlfriend, though, was incredibly small, barely passing the five-foot mark. Then again, that made her countless times larger than what she had been in the old world, pre-curse. Had she remained that size, a relationship between them wouldn’t have even been possible, let alone plausible.

The car rolled to a stop in the driveway. Henry unbuckled his seat belt, jumped out of the car, and ran around to get his girlfriend’s door just like he’d seen his Ma do for his Mom countless times. When he opened the door and helped her out, he grabbed her hand and smiled at her. 

"Just relax, okay?” he said softly. “It’s gonna be fine, Lina.”

Lina let out a huff as she quickly smoothed down her strawberry-blonde hair with her free hand and fluffed out the skirt of her soft blue sundress.

She then let Henry lead her up to the front door.

Keep reading

I’ve seen ARBs argue that Henry was starved because Regina left him at home for a few hours.  He’s literally got a plate of food and milk in front of him in the shot yet this is evidence that he’s starving?  There are eight year olds on national television cooling fancy dinners of Master Chef Jr but apparently Henry Mills can’t feed himself if his mother isn’t home?  

I’ve seen ARBs claim that she’d have child protective services called on her for leaving him at home.  When you show them guidelines from the state of Maine that say otherwise they then say you are hung up on legalities.  Like they aren’t the ones who brought up the legalities in the first place.

But what annoys me most about people using this scene as proof that Regina is a terrible parent is that it usually comes with a side of slut shaming.  Because single mothers aren’t allowed to have sex.  Or apparently ground their children for the long list of misbehavior including credit card fraud and running away across state lines that happened in the previous few days.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Hook and Robin have a bet on who the "cool" stepdad to Henry is. As they each try to prove their "coolness" they get into loads of trouble with their ladies.

Killian was sitting with Robin and David at Granny’s when he saw Emma walk in. She immediately made her way over to them with a smile and kissed her husband briefly. He saw David roll his eyes as he glanced away from them and Killian couldn’t help throwing a slight smirk at his friend’s discomfort.

“Would one of you mind hanging with Henry for a bit? He’ll need some dinner later on and Regina and I might not be back in time.”

“Sure. Where are you off to?”

“Girl stuff,” she replied dismissively, sparking Killian’s interest.

“What kind of…” Killian didn’t even get to finish his question before Emma kissed him again and hurried towards the door.

“He’s down at the bakery,” she told them as she slipped out of the door.

Killian narrowed his eyes as he watched her through the window. She jumped into the back seat of Regina’s car and it quickly took off out of sight.

“Strange,” he muttered.

“Regina has been acting oddly all morning,” Robin put in.

“Any idea why?”

“Not a clue.”

They both looked over to David, who shrugged. “Snow is pregnant again. I don’t know what normal behaviour is anymore,” he told them as he placed a gentle hand over the two year old girl napping in his lap.

“Right, I should go get Henry,” Killian told them as he dismissed any thoughts of Emma’s unusual behaviour and went to stand.

“I think Henry would prefer it would be me, don’t you?” Robin asked pointedly.

Killian blinked in shock and then scowled, returning to his seat. “What the blazes do you mean by that?”

“Well, I think it is quite clear that I am his favourite step-dad, don’t you?”

“I hope you are joking.”

“I taught him to hunt. He plainly thinks I am more fun than you.” Killian sat up straighter at the challenge in Robin’s voice.

“I taught him to sail, so he clearly would think I was the cooler step-dad.”

“I’m teaching him archery, so I still think he would prefer to spend time with me.” Robin leant forward and Killian mirrored his movement, the two men staring each other down.

“Well, I’m teaching him to sword fight, so I rather think I have the advantage.”

David cleared his throat awkwardly. “Technically, I taught-,“ Robin cut him off.

“I think we should make a bet about this.”

“What’s the point? You’ll lose, Hood.”

“Scared, Hook?

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

David once again tried to interrupt. “You two are letting this get out of hand. I know you are competitive, but this is absolutely ridiculous,” Killian deflated knowing he was right. He looked at Robin, and he gave a reluctant nod. “Especially,” David continued with a smug smile, “since Henry quite obviously prefers to spend his time with me.”

The two of them rounded on David.

“In your dreams, Charming,” Robin sneered.

“Not a chance,” Killian added.

David just shrugged, unconcerned. “I’m going to take this little one home,” he said indicating his daughter. “You two can sort it out for yourselves.”

Killian and Robin eyed each other as David left Granny’s.

“He’s going to pay for that, right?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yes. We’ll enlist Henry to devise the perfect revenge,” Robin replied with an evil smile.


Many hours and a great deal of pizza later, Killian, Robin and Henry had the perfect plan laid out in diagrams strewn across the dining room table.

“Henry, for this to work, you will have to drive the truck,” Killian told him.

He brightened. “Really? Because after the last time, Mum said…”

“I know what Mum said, but this is a special situation.”

“Besides, Henry, you know Roland will have his own part in this, so…” Robin began.

Suddenly, the door burst open, admitting Emma, Regina and Mary Margaret. The three males quickly assembled themselves in front of the table, hiding the evidence of their afternoon from curious eyes.

“What’s going on?” asked Emma suspiciously. Her gaze settled on Henry and her eyes narrowed. Clearly, the lad was the weakest link. Killian would have to remember that.

“Oh, we were just…,” Henry began, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. Killian placed his good hand on Henry’s shoulder and squeezed, giving him the strength to withstand his mothers’ assessing looks. Regina and Mary Margaret were also eyeing them with suspicion. “Just hanging out,” Henry finished.

“Pizza, guy stuff, the usual,” Robin put in.

“Where did you ladies go?” Killian asked brightly, hoping to distract them.

Emma narrowed her eyes, not in the least fooled. “Like I said: girl stuff.”

“Right. I knew that.”

“Where’s my husband?” Mary Margaret asked, ignoring the tension in the room.

Killian surreptitiously consulted the timetable they had drawn up earlier. “Right now he should be at the station.”

“I see,” she replied. “I better go find him.” Mary Margaret said her goodbyes and left.

Regina turned to Robin. “We should go now, too. Where’s Roland?”

“He’s on the couch with his game. But, can we just…” he gestured to Killian and Henry.

“I’m starving, Robin. I want to get home. You can finish whatever mischief you are cooking up tomorrow.”

Robin sighed, resigned, and went to pick up Roland. “Henry, do you want to stay with me or Emma tonight?”

“Killian and I have both already eaten, so I may as well stay here.”

Regina nodded. “Sure, but we are still on for tomorrow, right?”

Henry smiled. “Definitely.”

Regina and Robin said their goodbyes, and then it was just Emma left, facing the two of them.

“Do I want to know?” she asked with resigned affection.

Killian and Henry glanced at each other in silent communication.


“Probably not.”

“Right. Well, whatever you are planning, I just hope I don’t have to arrest you. Again.”

“Love, that was one time…”

Emma gave him a look and Killian shut his mouth. She walked past them and grabbed a slice of pizza before sitting on the couch.

“So, lad, today was fun, right?” Killian asked.

“Sure. Next time I think I’ll hang with Grandpa and Belle, though. He’s started teaching me some magic.” Henry wondered off, completely unaware of the bombshell he had just dropped.

Magic. Rumple was his favourite? Well, that would be a tough act to follow. Good thing Killian liked a challenge.

That's What Girlfriends Do

I could not pass up writing something and including that line. Thanks, Colin! So here you have some Thanksgiving fluff. Read on ff.net, instead. 


“Hey wanna swing by the store with me? David forgot parsley and mushrooms for Thanksgiving dinner and my mom is having a cow.” Emma asked.

Killian looked at her confused. “Thanks who?”

“Oh, Thanksgiving. When the first settlers came to America they had a feast with the Native Americans here in autumn and eventually it became a holiday. That’s the short version of it, I’m sure you could ask Henry for the more detailed story, they cover it every year in school. But it’s kind of evolved to a holiday that you spend with family and eat lot of foods.” Emma explained.

“Sounds…interesting?” Killian offered.

“It is. There’s a joke about spending hours and hours prepping and cooking food and then the entire meal is over in just a few minutes, but it’s really the truth. My mom is making a ton of food for four adults, a teenager and a baby, but she refuses to make less. You umm, might want to find some less tight pants for the holiday though. It’s all about over-indulging.”

“You think my pants are too tight love?” He asked grinning and twisting to look around at his back side. “I thought they fit quite well. At least, from the admiring glances you think I don’t see.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I do not check out your ass, pirate! But hey if you wanna stuff yourself with food and then be all uncomfortable in tight pants, go for it buddy.”

He caught her wrist, pulling her in close so his lips just grazed her ear, grinning at the shudder she failed to hide. “Whatever you need to tell yourself love. But perhaps we should go to the store as not to keep your mother waiting any longer?”

“Let’s go.” She growled.


“Oh thank you so much!” Mary-Margaret exclaimed as Emma and Killian entered the loft, grocery bags swinging from Killian’s hook.

“I also bought some wine, I thought we might need it.” Emma said.

From across the room her father snorted until his wife fixed him with a glare.

“Is there anything we can assist you with?” Killian asked, ignoring the horrified look from Emma.

Mary-Margaret paused for a moment, eyes glancing around the kitchen. Food was in various states of prep and cooking. “Yes, why don’t the two of you make the apple pie.”

“I, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Emma said, looking fearfully at the stack of apples.

“Oh come on love, it can’t be that difficult.” Killian chided her.

“He’s right Emma. I know this family has…issues with apples, but a simple apple pie recipe I’ve made since I was a child is nothing to fear. It’s my mothers own recipe if that makes you feel better.” Mary-Margaret explained.

“Fine.” Emma said sullenly. She was really not interested in subjecting Killian to her atrocious culinary skills just yet. The longer she spent in Storybrooke the more her fake cooking memories from New York slipped away. At this point she wasn’t convinced she could make toast with the man watching her.

“Emma you’ll need to peel, core and thinly slice those apples. Killian, the dough is in the fridge but it needs to be rolled out. You can assist Emma with the apples first though.” Mary-Margaret said with a smile.

Surprisingly, the apple peeling, coring and slicing went rather easily with no mishaps. Killian speared each apple in the core to hold it steady as she sliced each into quarters then thinner slices. Once she had sat down the knife, his lips grazed her ear. “I knew you could do it.”

She rolled her eyes at him, brushing off the compliment. “Don’t these need sugar or something?” She asked her mother.

“Yes, ½ cup of white sugar, 1 tablespoon cinnamon and a splash of vanilla. Oh and a squeeze of lemon juice to keep them from browning.” Her mother replied. “Then put them in a colander over the sink to let them drain. If they’re too wet the pie crust will get soggy.”

“Come on pirate, now you need to do your part.” Emma pulled him over to the fridge and handed him a plastic wrapped disc of dough.

“Flour that!” Her mother reminded her.

Counter lightly floured, he unwrapped the dough and expertly took the rolling pin from Emma and began to roll the dough out in a circular fashion.

“Really?” Emma asked.

“While the memory is vague, love, I do remember my mother making pies. Liam and I were always tasked with rolling out the dough.” He explained.

Mary-Margaret walked by, nodding her approval at the dough and apples before placing a pie pan in front of them. “Crimp the edges, add the apples to the top. I already have strips of dough on the other side of the counter to use as a lattice crust.”

Emma watched in awe as Killian deftly placed the dough over the pie plate and expertly crimped the edges. “Are you doing the lattice top too?” She asked him.

“No, we’re doing it together.” He said, motioning for her to add the apples to the pie.

Ten minutes later a pie that Emma thought was store quality sat on the counter. Her mother grinned. “Beautiful pie! Now you’ll both be here at twelve tomorrow, yes?”

“Only if I can get back to the station and get some work done.” Emma teased her mother.

“Bye then!” Her mother waved them out the door.


“You weren’t kidding.” He said quietly to Emma. “That is enough food for a small army.”

“Told ya. Regretting your pants?” She teased him.

“Not at the moment, but perhaps if I do indulge you can assist me in removing them.” He winked, grinning at how quickly her face flushed.

“Be good!” She hissed.

“Always.” He replied taking her arm to pull her over to the wide array of foods sitting on the table. “Care to explain what all of this is?”

She began pointing. “That’s stuffing, it’s bread, celery, onions, seasonings, a  very classic dish. You know what mashed potatoes and gravy are. That’s cranberry sauce. It’s kind of tart but a classic that you have to have at the table. That’s sweet potato casserole, it’s sweet potatoes topped with brown sugar and marshmallows so it’s really sweet. Almost dessert like. The stuff in the orange dish is green bean casserole. It’s green beans and mushrooms in a sauce with a crunchy onion topping. Pumpkin pie and then the apple pie we made. The turkey is in the oven.”

Mary-Margaret walked up to them with a large tray of nuts, cheeses and pickles. “Appetizers. I don’t intended to let you get hungry. The turkey still needs another thirty minutes in the oven plus time to rest before I can carve it.”

About an hour later everyone was seated at the dining room table, plates overflowing with food.

“We’re going to say what we’re thankful for, right?” Henry asked.

“Of course!” His grandmother replied. “Why don’t you go first.”

“I’m thankful for being back in Storybrooke with all of my memories, my family and that my x-box finally arrived.” Henry said.

David was next. “I’m thankful that we all get to spend this holiday together, finally.”

Mary-Margaret went next. “I’m thankful for both of my amazing children.”

“Umm, I’m thankful for just being here with all of you. This year has been the craziest of them all and I’m just happy we’re all together.” She said, turning to look at Killian.

His eyes met hers briefly before looking to her parents. “I’m thankful that you have invited me to join you for this meal.” Turning to Henry he said, “That I have acquired such a great sailing mate.” Looking back at Emma, he said softly, “You. Simply you.”

Emma felt her cheeks flame having no idea how to respond to him.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving!” Henry announced, saving her from the moment.


Hours later, the plates had been cleared, leftovers put away and only the desserts remained. Emma was sitting next to Killian on the couch, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest. She smiled to herself, remembering the last time they were in this position. “This is even kinda nice when I’m not freezing.” She joked.

She felt his chest shake gently with a laugh. “Perhaps we could try it more often.”

“Yeah.” She said, lacing her fingers with his.

“Thank you for showing me the traditions of this holiday, love.” He said brushing a kiss to her temple.

“That’s what girlfriends do.” She replied.