i'm having season 1 feels

god freaking bless catilin snow for dropping the most accurate truth bombs and basically providing the best roast i‘ve ever seen on tv

I'm just curious as to how old you guys are and when you started watching Big Brother

Can you put what season you first saw and your age at the time and your age now in the tags? I really assumed that most fans would be my age because I’m a narcissist but yeah I think I was way off…

lost in your sleeve (1/?)

“For a kid with so damn much family these days, he’s still somehow been dealt a shitty hand.” No magic AU where Henry’s just a sad, angry with with a fucked up family tree.

Captain Cobra. (Eventual) Captain Swan.

Notes: The first official chapter! Sorry it took a while. Moving is a pain. But here’s chapter 1, and the next chapter is partly written and it’s all basically sketched out in my head so hopefully the next update won’t take quite so long. Recommended listening is still: Eugene by Sufjan Stevens.

(Shout out to swallowedsong, again, for always responding ‘sure!’ when I ask if she wants to look over something for me, and for generally being encouraging and enthusiastic.) 

Enjoy.

Wanna catch up? prologue

chapter 1.

henry.

 

            Regina used to walk him to school everyday. She’d hold his hand as they went, her grip tightening when people would pass by, fake smiles on their faces as they greeted her, an equally forced smile on her own. She was a very powerful woman, his adoptive mother. Important. The kind of important that never forgets itself—that demands that no one else forget it, either. The kind that doesn’t make many friends. She’d hold onto his hand as they walked and as he got older he wondered if she did it for his sake or her own. Who really needed that anchor?

            Maybe it was both of them.

            Emma walked him to school, too, but she kept her distance a bit, only reaching for him to cross the street.

            “I guess you’re probably too old for this, huh?” she’d said once as they walked, her hand soft and unsure around his.

            “I don’t mind,” he’d said, squeezing her hand and smiling.

            She’d smiled back, ruffled his hair before he ran off and into the building, and when he glanced back as he reached the door she was still there, still smiling, still watching him.

            Truthfully, he didn’t need either of them to walk him to school.  He just—

            He just liked it when they did.

            His first Monday at Barrie he walks alone to the dining hall. Sits alone for breakfast, and makes his way by himself to his first class.

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