well from two days ago

“Many Bothans died bringing us this letter.”

“They were killed by the evil Empire?”

“No, they just got to the bit about R2-D1 and died laughing.”


Lower maintenance makeup, higher maintenance hair

noticed that this photo from two years ago and this one from two days ago match up fairly well. Sometimes I miss the way I used to look, personally I think I was prettier in general, but then I have to remember how uncomfortable I felt all the time, and how I feel so much more like myself with my obnoxious colored hair and makeup that lets my skin breathe a little more, even if it shows my undereye circles. I take so much better care of my skin, I’ve got funky hair that little kids stare at a lot, and I just wear band shirts and clunky shoes all the time because that is what makes me comfortable and happy. I think my 19 year old self would like my 21 year old self.

Sorry, there’s just been a lot of soul searching in the past couple months or so. Character development is a crazy thing.

A lifetime of love and memories

I’m sorry. I wrote this today, and I cried and I still did not stopped from writing. And I’m sorry. 

This is my take on what I THINK might happen (should happen) in the next episode.


Your life was a blessing
Your memory a treasure
You are loved beyond words and missed beyond measure


They came back from the Underworld two days ago and they, well more like her parents and Regina, decided that Killian needs a proper funeral. Emma agreed with them between “yes” and “no” and “uhm” since that was all she could say. She missed him a lot, she couldn’t sleep knowing that he won’t be around anymore, hug her, kiss her, tell her or show her how much he loves her or even talk her out of the stupid things she wanted to do. She cursed Cruella because she destroyed the phone, she thought that if the phone was still in the Underworld Killian would be able to talk with her, but then she realized that he wouldn’t do it even if he could. He loved her too much and knew that talking with her thought that phone will hurt her even more.  

The day of the funeral was a grey day, cloudy and rainy. People wore black around her and had black umbrellas to protect themselves from the rain. Emma was in black like everyone else. Black jeans, black shirt, black boots and a black leather jacket. His black leather jacket. She refused to wear a hat like Regina and her mother or an umbrella like everyone else. He just put her hair in a ponytail and moved like a robot from her parents loft to her father’s car and then to the graveyard.

She remembered reading that when it rains at a funeral even God and his angels are sad because the person died. She looked at the sky and thought.

“Please bring him back. If what everyone says about you it’s true, please bring him back. I’ve seen so many crazy things in my life, I wish I could see just another. Bring him back to me. Please.” She prayed at the sky hoping that there is a God who watches over them and listens to her prayers.

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