mine: once upon a time

all our friends want us to fall in love

Show: Once Upon A Time
Characters: Emma Swan, Killian Jones, Ruby Lucas, Mary Margaret Blanchard, David Nolan, Belle
Ship: Captain Swan (Emma/Killian), with background Blanchard-Nolans & Red Beauty
Words: ~18k
Timeline: AU
Notes: hello, it is i, au garbage, back to darken your doors once again. bet you thought you’d seen the last of me. this was a on-a-whim fic that sort of blossomed into much more than i intended. it’s vaguely you’re the worst inspired, in the way that, if you’ve seen you’re the worst, you may understand why i say that. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this! as always nothing would exist without the best beta in all the land; bluestoplights!


It all starts when Emma’s best friend’s evil step-sister gets married.

Emma isn’t a wedding type of person. Even if she were this isn’t the kind of affair for celebrating the love two people share. Not that Regina and Robin don’t love each other, just that Regina loves rubbing her happiness in everyone else’s faces even more.

“You know she only invited me because she can’t rub your happily married nose in it, right?” Emma asks Mary Margaret as they head towards David’s beat up pickup truck. Mary Margaret looks beautiful as ever in the deep purple dress Regina had picked for her bridesmaids. David’s waist coat and bowtie match the color and satin fabric.

“Oh, Emma, cut Regina some slack,” Mary Margaret sighs, ever the martyr. “She might not be the most, um, agreeable person but she just wants to celebrate her love. Maybe she thinks of you two as friends.”

Emma wonders if Regina makes constant snide and condescending remarks about the state of all of her friends’ lives or if that’s just the type of bond they apparently share. Mary Margaret does her best with her troublesome relatives, though, so Emma keeps her mouth shut.

“What did you get them, anyway?” She asks as Mary Margaret squeezes into the middle of the bench seat, large white and gold wrapped box in her lap, and Emma slides in after her. She’s forgetting why she’d agreed to drive together rather than in her own car.

“A slow cooker.”

Emma pulls a face.

“Married life must be a riot,” she comments deadpan. Mary Margaret gives a big put upon sigh and David chuckles as he backs out of the driveway.

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