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alrightberries · 3 years

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dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack �� word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

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vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

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wormmomma · 4 years

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MIDSOMMAR SPOILER REVIEW: this movie fucking broke me

CW:RAPE, ABUSE, PEDOPHILLIA

“Midsommar” is a grimm fairytale of sorts. A fairly different homage to the cult film the “wicker man”. “The wicker man” is about a european cult being investigated by a british christian cop, “midsommar” avoids the christian indictment of pagan/occult religious practices. midsommar attempts to be an out and out horror film unlike the a genre bending murder mystery/horror/thriller roots of “The wicker man”. Director ari aster obviously wanted to add to the annals of folk horror by creating an ambitious beautifully horrific and sometimes downright psychedelic film. Ari aster wanted to make a film where you can’t hide from the horror as it all happens in front of you. It's also a breakup movie for some reason? As someone who has seen the theatrical cut twice and the director's cut once I can assure you it misses the mark when taking both concepts. If you're wondering whether not to watch the film i think that on a technical level “midsommar” is beautiful and has amazing cinematography, but the answer is yes, but no. Jordan Peele was shown an advance copy of the film and told Aster "I think you’ve made the most idyllic horror film of all time" that high praise. But that being said for personal reasons this will be my final time seeing the film. I think the director's cut is a gorgeous and amazing three hour film. But as someone personally affected by rape, pedophillia, and the victimization mentally or physically handicapped people i cant reccomend this film wholeheartedly. I'm far from squeamish and love films that revel in shock, horror and extremity but I cannot in good conscious recommend a film I almost walked out on. I think Ari Aster has backpedaled immensely in his ability to create horror that exhibits empathy for his characters and the triumphs and tragedies that he subjects them too. “Hereditary” had an amount of emotional pathos for its characters that was almost completely removed from “Midsomer”. The fim feels unreasonably cruel even for a horror movie. Although enjoyable, proceed with caution “Midsommar” is a beautiful, slow, horrific but ultimately controversial mess of a film. 8/10

(the rest of this review is a plot synopsis and a meditation on the more controversial passages in the movie and is to be read for those who have actually seen midsommar. Spoilers abound!)

So what’s it about?

Midsommar is about Dani, an anxious and vulnerable young woman dating an emotionally abusive and reserved boyfriend named christian. After her bipolar sister commits suicide and murders both there parents, Dani goes on a european excursion with cristian with his anthropologist friends as they study a swedish cults midsommar summer solstice tradition. Dani reeling not only from having her parents taken from her by their favorite child, but also from the lack of any real emotional support goes on a gorgeous, psychedelia, induced nightmare of the cult horror variety. Immediately after touching down on the swedish cult's beautiful grassy commune christian manipulates dani into taking psychedelics. Christian although quite emotionally stunted and quite meek at his core is very sly and amazing at working people. Watching Christian make Dani do psychedelic drugs (mushrooms i believe) to make her clear refusal to take them into something that not only affects christian but also his friends and everyone around them is almost scary in its hilariously methodical toxicity. This leads to dani having a panic attack and from there the hits just keep on coming. Dani then has to watch as two cultist commit ritual suicide. This traumatic incident further escalated when one jumped off the mountain on his leg and needed to have his head crushed by cult members till it turns to meat and dust. To make a long three hour story with icelandic pacing short lets race to the finish line:

Christian begins to be pursued by a cult member named maja. Dani still reeling from seeing two people commit suicide has her worries invalidated by christian and all of his anthropologist bros. The anthropology bro argues about who deserves to break basically every rule of basic anthropology as they try to see who gets PAID for perverting a culture they were invited to study not disturb. Christian eats one of majas pubes. After pissing on a ceremonial tree for the dead, and taking photos of the forbidden religious text (written by an inbred autistic oracle boy) our two american secondary characters are chopped off. Dani and christian are the final outsiders left standing. Dani joins a dance competition (yes really) and becomes this year's may queen. forever to be immortalized in the annals of white female faces shown in portraits plastered in the sleeping quarters of this matriarchal cult commune. Christian is then raped as we discover how all the bodies of our other character are disposed of. Dani, inebriated and vulnerable, discovers christian being raped by the cult and forced to sleep with the 16 year old maja. Disgusted dani vomits and syncs her cries of pain with the cult sister and finally has her trauma validated. She is given the choice to then murder christian as hes trapped in a paralyzed state. Dani decides to burn christian alive in the body of a bear, finally defeating and overcoming her emotional abuser. Dani smiles as the cult writhes in pain from the death of the cult members burning alive with christian.Dani is happy. She has family. She is home.

So lets (finally) talk about maja

“Look at it from an academic perspective it would provide a unique glimpse into our sexual rights.”

“Can i not have a unique glimpse without participating?”

This is a conversation that is awkwardly cut from the theatrical version of midsommar. Christian is being offered to have sex with maja. Maja is a sixteen year old girl. The closest aster ever comes to revealing this fact is offhandedly mentioning maja having her first period. Christian refuses sex and is raped by maja, and the cult while a fourteen year old disabled child watches. There's a lot wrong with this scene. I’ll be honest for personal reasons I was really disgusted by this scene. I feel like im projecting but rape and pedophellia are really delicate topics and should be treated sensitivity. Ive seen alot of extreme very difficult horror films, i've seen rape, pedophillia, and violence explored in meaningful interesting and empathetic ways even ari asters own work like “meet the johnsons”. But watching maja rape christian with what i would assume are her older siblings, aunts, grandmothers, mother and other cult members as a 14 year old boy watches just made me feel fucking dirty. The weird part: it isn't horrific. While cristian was being raped, the audience I was watching it with were laughing. It wasn't scary. it was funny. It's a cognitive dissonance. The audience isn't aware of christians being raped or majas age. Most people assume he's cheating and deserves to be burned alive by dani. Making christian the bad guy of his own a rape is horrific but i shouldn’t need to hunt down that information and watch the film three times to understand that. It makes the movie feel as if its really bad at relaying basic information, at worst it's dishonestly hiding it to make the film more palatable. After putting all the pieces together I was disgusted. Ari aster crossed a line. I felt queasy and never wanted to see this film ever again. The fact ari aster could have made maja of age, or take the disabled 14 year old out the scene entirely, or not have had christian be raped in the first place while reaching a more understandable and tragic ending annoys me to know end, it feel like i watched these characters be used and mistreated for no reason. Just to shock me. It lacks value, it’s gross and uninteresting. much like christian and everyone involved i feel violated and it's really hard for me to enjoy watching what is an otherwise (although flawed) very interesting and compelling work or art. I’m still morbidly curious of the next film ari aster makes but i really hope he learns for this mistake and doesn't objectify children in another weird fetishistic male rape comedy routine. It just leaves me confused, disgusted and only makes it more challenging to analyze the more interesting implications of the film. I really appreciated hereditary as someone who has a very emotionally abusive family and has a very hard time processing death. I found hereditary horrific as it is cathartic. As someone who had to quite recently confront a pedophile, midsommar just left me hurt, and trapped. I was reliving some of the worst parts of my trauma as an audience sits around and laughs at it. It all felt so tragic and meaningless. I want to actually give ari asters work an honest critique but he's produced the only work of film that really hurt me and left me feeling violated. I really love his work and I know I'm exaggerating but I hope art never has such a negative effect on my mental health or anyone else’s ever again. I don't blame Maja or christian or the actor who portrayed them. I respect their performances although I have zero respect for how utterly tasteless midsommar ended up being for me. I think I need to learn how not to take art so seriously and try not to invest myself in other people's work. It's a difficult habit to kick. Needless to say, I cannot recommend this movie. If you're able to separate art from the artist and read this whole review without watching the film you're not a bad person for watching it, midsommar is a compelling, difficult experience.

I hope you enjoyed this review and I'm sorry if it got wayyy too personal in the end there. The movie clearly struck a raw nerve for me. if you enjoy this or any review i've dones let me know. I may reveiw hereditary in the future.if your also having issues with death, rape, abuse or mental health i hope this review didnt make it worse. Everyone is deserving of love, family, community and I hope everyone can find that. Have a good day, and have a safe quarantine.

#movie #reveiw #horror #cults #ari aster #midsommer spoilers #midso #midsommer #film #jordan peele #bear #analysis #critque #hot take #problematic

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funhaversclub · 4 years

Photo

HELLO HELLO! long time no see :)

I was going to post about all the new information we got from the Pokemon Sword and Shield expansion video but that's already been done. Instead I've decided to post about something much more dear to my heart. The teaser of the Galarian Slowbro and Slowking! BUT Not only that! This post evolved into basically an appreciation of my favorite Pokemon family. I know some of you may not think Shellder and Cloyster belong in this family but technically Slowpoke couldn’t grow without them. On that note let's get into it.

GALARIAN SLOWKING!

The first Pokemon addressed above is the Galarian Slowking... or Slowqueen?... Based on the information we were shown I think what happens to this iteration of Slowking is the Shellder crown, instead of just sitting on Slowpoke's head, swallows the head almost completely. You can see this in what looks like the Shellder Shell's eye in the left side of the scribbled out head. In doing this the Shellder becomes the pilot in this symbiotic relationship. Not only that but the Poison of Shellder seeps through Slowpoke's body even more than in the original Slowking making this version a Poison/Psychic type! I designed the shell to resemble Cloyster's spikes more than the original look. Another neat aspect could be seeing the powerful Poison/Physic energy flowing through causing a smoky aura to leak out through cracks in the crown as pictured below. As for how it evolves I'm not really sure. Maybe instead of a King's Rock it could be the Queen's Ore that you find in the Crown Tundra!

Some people seem to think Slowking could be a ghost or dark type this time around. With the Shellder possibly breaking, maybe the spirit inhabits or possesses Slowking? I like the idea of the crown breaking so I sketched this up!

GALARIAN SLOWBRO!

Secondly we have the Galarian Slowbro. The first thing to mention about the information we've been given is that this iteration of Slowbro has no Shellder on it's tail! This is odd because originally it was said that in order for Slowbro to even stand it needed the counterweight of the Shellder to lift it. I figured that meant this time around Slowbro is stronger on it's own. Hence the flex pose I gave it :) In the bottom left of the leaked imagery above we even see what looks like Slowpoke possibly learning to stand by itself? We also see a sketch of the Slowpoke fishing so where does the Shellder go? In that leak image, top left, it looks like the tail is possibly flinging the Shellder up. This, combined with the Pokemon website talking about Galarian Slowpoke's body changing through seeds it eats might mean that the Shellder doesn't hold on the same way? Maybe the tail has become bitter and Shellder no longer likes the taste? So Possibly when Shellder is "reeled" in it releases itself BUT lands on the Slowpoke's head instead of staying on the tail. This theory comes from another small glimpse we get in the teaser. A small image of Slowbro's purple head. We don't see Slowbro's ears so I took it upon myself to unwind them. Along with that, I took the purple forehead as more of the Shellder shell than just color. We do also see an image of the trainer Avery with what looks like a royal looking Slowbro complete with a tiny hat/shell and a frilly garment BUUUUT I kind of feel like this is an artsy picture of a Slowpoke dressed up. I could be wrong though so I added the features in the image below. Anyways, with the Shellder on it's head instead of tail, it doesn't change shape the same way. With no delicious tail to munch on the Shellder finds no reason to "evolve" itself. The Shellder's poison begins to seep through Slowbro but not in the same way as Slowking. It pushes poison through Slowbro's body giving him strength to stand as well as making it's hands and tail a purple color. I think this version of Slowbro would also be Psychic/Poison. Who knows how it will evolve. Possibly fishing the same way Slowbro’s lore has always been but as for in game it could be an item or it could be leveling up. We will have to find out in the Isle of Armor.

I don’t really think the frilled chested Slowbro is going to be part of the evolution but some people seem to think it could because of a new Galarian Shellder. I’ll admit when I first saw the image I thought maybe it could be something but the fabric around the neck made me think it was just clothes of some sort. That plus are they really going to also add a Shellder regional variant on top of the three new Slows? BUT for the sake of artistic fun I thought what if a Galarian Shellder had parts that looked like a neck tie? and I’m pretty sure a frilled clam shell is a thing… So I whipped up the pearl cheeked, smooched lipped Galarian Shellder you see below! I realize that this type of shell is basically what Clampearl is based on and it very well could just be that that helps the evolution. Really, it could be a number of older gen sea dwellers that could contribute. Only time will tell.

There’s a theory floating around that’s pretty interesting. The same way that I made Galar Slowbro have a Shellder helmet because we can’t see the top of it’s head in the teaser, people are saying because we can’t see it’s left hand maybe something happens to it? One of those somethings could be that Slowpoke fishes out a Shellder with it’s hand instead of it’s tail. This could result in some sort of powerful shell fist? or a rocket arm shell? who knows? When I was drawing this it reminded me of a arm cannon so I added the same “smoke/aura” I used on my Galarian Slowking (or Queen?)

I’m REALLY hoping on top of all the cool new Slow-ness we also get Gigantamax forms of both these majestic beasts! Maybe something like a Slowpoke surrounded by a giant Shellder coral reef? Maybe because the Corsola of Galar are dying it could look like dying angry coral reef? Here’s a sketch up of the idea I had.

...Well that's about all I have to say about our new Galar Slow family. Seeing as how this has become a Slow Family appreciation post I'll continue with the odd looking Shellders.

Johto Shellder & Johto Cloysters!

Using very old concept art for variations on the Shellder shells attached to Slowbro's tail, I came up with the art for this Shellder trio. Not to mention in the Beta for Pokemon Gold and Silver it was revealed that this Shellder was going to be a stand alone Pokemon! Because of that Beta I'll be referring to them as Johto Shellder and Johto Cloysters.

It's said that when Shellder attaches to Slowpoke not only does it's shape change to become more defensive but also to get as much flavor out of the tail as possible. I thought a neat way to acquire this Johto Shellder would be to "evolve" a Slowbro at a high level holding an item and an open slot in your party I was thinking you could give Slowbro some sort of berry that fills up a Pokemon for a very long time with a single bite. Leveling up a Slowbro holding this berry causes an abundance of nutrients to flow to the Johto Shellder. Being full, it lets go of the tail but retains its form. This leaves the trainer with a Slowpoke in the empty slot and a brand new Johto Shellder in it's place! From Here I figured you could evolve the Johto Shellder in two ways. A higher defense stat would result in the small but thick Johto Cloyster and with a higher attack stat it would evolve into the soft but super spiky Johto Cloyster! woo! I Haven't really decided the typing of these Pokemon yet.

The Johto Shellders I drew originally came from an older project I was working on. If you want to check out "Capsule Monsters 0 & 1" you can follow this link:

https://funhaversclub.tumblr.com/post/49391556862/just-like-before-with-every-picture-ive-added

Finally we have this Slowpoke with it’s little white belly exposed. This was a sprite used in the Japanese version of Pokemon Gold and Silver before being changed when it was released everywhere else. I thought this could be seen as a rarer type of Slowpoke that is VERY hard to find BUT has much higher stats. Kind of like a unique shiny. That OR it could be the Slowpoke that you get after evolving a Johto Shellder.

Speaking of Shiny. This entire family of Slows and Shells have some unique shiny forms. We have yet to see Galarian evos Shinys but maybe I'll update this post with an interpretations of what I think they could look like later? for now here are all the shiny versions we currently have!

Since the Galarian Slowpoke has been implemented into Pokemon Sword and Shield we know what the Shiny Galarian Slowpoke looks like. Based on that, I’ve “Shiny-fied” my predictions of the Galarian Slowbro and Slowking.

I can’t wait to see what these guys actually turn out to look like! :)

I've taken some artistic liberties above but for a complete fan fic Slowbro evolution check out this idea on what other shells Slowbro could acquire:

https://funhaversclub.tumblr.com/post/115033630741/a-new-pokemon-fan-trend-going-around-its-drawing

Welp thank you for coming to my Slow Family ted talk. I'll leave you with a picture of a Slowpoke I found down by the beach near my house :) What a cutie.

#Pokemon Shield #Pokemon Sword #Pokemon #Slowbro #Slowpoke #Galar Slowbro #Galar Slowking #Slowking #Galar Slowpoke #Cary Frank #Shellder #Cloyster #Galar Region #Fun Havers Club #the Fun Havers Club #the Isle of Armor #the Crown Tundra

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spartanguard · 5 years

Text

sick of love (3/3)

Summary: If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more?

A/N: LAST CHAPTER AH. I meant to have this done sooner, but I didn’t get much writing done at camp—so here we are on Friday! It ended up much longer than anticipated, but this is where it earns the M rating. I hope this was worth the wait, and thank you for sticking with it!

As stated before, this story was inspired by this tumblr post. Thank you again to the organizers of @cssns for putting on this awesome event and to @sherlockianwhovian for making that AMAZING art up there!

Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

More wrong than any other time in her life.

That first night after the collision on the train, she got drunk on Sam Adams and blamed that on why the barrage of text messages from Killian mysteriously disappeared from her phone.

By Thursday, Henry had asked why they hadn’t yet had dinner with Killian that week. “Because you have school now, mister,” worked as an excuse.

And thankfully, she managed to hide her sigh of relief when Killian wasn’t at dinner at the Nolans, supposedly because he was called into work.

Halfway through the next week, Henry asked if they had a fight or something. “Yeah, or something,” was her lame, mumbled response. “It’s an adult thing.”

That was enough to get him to stop asking questions, though he had plenty of comments after the following Friday’s dinner—she decided that would be the best time to track her latest skip and dropped Henry off to stay with Snow and Dave for the night, and her resolve hardened when she saw the Chevelle in the driveway.

“You know, Killian seemed kind of mopey,” Henry told her when she picked him up the next morning. “Kind of like he did when we first met him.”

“He just gets like that sometimes; maybe it was something at work.”

“Maybe; I dunno. It seemed different. He says hi, though.”

He’d said more than that in the texts she kept deleting. Though those were usually something along the lines of Please, Swan—just talk to me.

What she wouldn’t admit was how much those broke her heart.

She wanted to; she really did. She missed him, dammit. But that would mean acknowledging whatever had passed between them as something real, that the whole idea actually had merit, and she wasn’t ready for that level of anything yet. She wasn’t even ready to kiss him, for fuck’s sake; even the title “boyfriend” held more weight than she was ready to carry.

And part of her still was in denial, sure that she’d imagined it because of that little romantic part of her that wanted something more.

She’d learned long ago to ignore that small voice, and she could shut it up again.

She didn’t do soulmates.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

A couple more weeks went by and fall arrived—her favorite. She wrapped up in a scarf on that first day, inhaling the chill in the air and making sure to stop for a pumpkin spice latte. Part of her wondered what kind of scarf Killian was wearing, if he even had one on—and then the rest of her put that idea to rest.

His texts became more sporadic; she never saw him on the train. He hadn’t been at Snow and David’s the last couple weeks and apparently had been stuck on the night shift for the last month. She was getting better at not thinking about him, but her mind generally wandered in his direction without her realizing it had.

There was a near run-in a week ago at the Chinese place; she saw his name on the receipt of the bag next to hers, and never paid so quick in her life. But otherwise, she’d been Killian-free for a month and was feeling just fine.

See? Nothing to worry about, she assured herself. Maybe in a couple more weeks, she could seek him out again, apologize, and they could carry on like that scare never happened.

But that thought got delayed when she came down with a cold a few days later.

She had a headache that wouldn’t go away and was tired a lot more than usual. The kitchen lights seemed especially harsh and there was a lingering bit of nausea that never quite sent her running for the toilet, but was definitely annoying.

“Are you feeling okay, Henry?” she’d ask every day, checking for a fever and his skin for any clamminess. She just needed to touch him, to make sure he was okay; or maybe she was being clingy because he had just started middle school.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he’d say, shrugging her off. “Are you?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Part of her wondered, when the nausea continued for a week without abating, if she was somehow pregnant again. It felt a lot like the early stages. But immaculate conception had only happened once, to her knowledge, so she had probably just picked up the flu somewhere.

She tried to power through it—even going on desk duty at her bail bonds firm (which she rarely, if ever did), but then her hands started cramping up from all the typing and kind of stayed that way. And good lord, that was terrible coffee in there, but she was so parched that she’d take it. She complained about it to Snow, who gave her a sidelong glance that fell somewhere between pitying and knowing, but amazingly gave no lecture. She just gave her a box of rose-flavored tea and a hug.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been sick in Henry’s lifetime—no one had that good an immune system—but she felt terrible that it was putting her so out of commission (in addition to, you know, feeling terrible).

“What kind of flu did you give me, kid?” she asked, voice hoarse, when Henry brought her tea in bed on her birthday.

“Maybe it’s something worse, Mom,” he said, and she could see how scared he was. “Maybe you should go to the ER?”

Cold dread washed over her at the mention of the place (or maybe it was just a chill resulting from the recently developed fever; it was hard to tell). “No; I’m not that bad,” she promised, despite how awful she sounded. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll go to urgent care.”

There was one on their block, but she didn’t even have the energy to walk that far. Just getting to her car was draining. Her hand struggled to cooperate with the pen while filling out forms, which included firmly checking the “no” box next to the question asking if she had lovesickness. She had the flu—that was it.

(Not that lovesickness had any true treatment; even at hospitals, all they could do was put a person on an IV of fluids and pain killers until it was done. So there was really no point in an urgent care even asking. Jerks.)

The doctor asked the usual questions—symptoms, how long she’d had them, and a whole bunch of other stuff that was already on the forms—before actually reading what was on the clipboard, squinting, then looking up at her skeptically. “Are you sure you don’t have lovesickness?”

“Positive,” she snapped back.

He gave her another incredulous look, shook his head, and wrote her a prescription for a generic antibiotic—which was all she needed, she was sure, and not the judgment of some two-bit doctor with bleached hair.

She felt better the next morning, after medicine and rest; good enough to go to work, so she started to get ready. See—she’d been right! It was just a bug. Nothing crazy or earth-shattering, just a run-of-the-mill thing.

Or, at least, that was her last thought before the world turned on it’s axis and she passed out on her bed.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

“Emma, are you sure I can’t take you to the hospital? You passed out, for crying out loud!” She could always count on David’s brotherly instincts to border on paternal.

“I’ll be fine; I promise. I just need to ride it out some more.”

David huffed, clearly not pleased with the situation. She wasn’t thrilled with it, either, but she wasn’t fit to be Henry’s mom until this thing had ran its course, or the antibiotics stopped making her dizzy—whichever came first. Henry was the one who found her unconscious, though she roused quickly; but it shook him enough that she didn’t want him around while she was still this sick. She’d never forgive herself if she got him sick, too.

“And you’re sure it’s just a bug?”

“Yes! Oh my god,” she rasped out, though it didn’t sound as convincing with her weakened voice. “Go! Have fun! Make sure he gets to school on time, does his homework, et cetera.”

David sighed again, but she could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he’d relented. “Alright; but make yourself some tea and get some rest. We’ll check in on you—no complaints. And if you don’t answer your phone, we’re coming to get you.”

“Fine,” she huffed; that was fair. Henry shuffled out from his room then, with an overstuffed duffel. For a moment, it reminded her of being a kid and her entire life fitting in one of those as she was moved from home to home; her eyes watered at the memory, but she—and Henry—knew he had a home to come back to; this was temporary. “Be good for your aunt and uncle,” she told him, and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead (which seemed a lot closer to chin than it had the day before).

“I will. Please get better soon, Mom,” he said, worry in his voice and his big brown eyes.

“I will. I promise.”

She couldn’t get worse, right?

Why did she keep saying that? Famous last words, no doubt.

Because she’d hardly settled on the couch after they left before another wave of vertigo struck and she nearly spilled her tea (of course, Snow had sent another box over). Though it might not have been that bad if she had, because she was also feeling awfully chilled, despite having two fleece blankets draped over her. (If she just gave it an hour, she’d be dealing with a manic hot flash instead.)

But this was better, she knew—Henry would be looked after and she’d be able to heal without anyone bothering her. And it was kind of nice having the apartment to herself for a couple days; that didn’t happen often.

It got dull fast, though. And quiet, oddly enough, even though she was able to watch whatever she wanted on Netflix (Henry hated Outlander; she didn’t).

It was...lonely. Again. Possibly more than ever in her life. It was one thing to not have anyone, like she had when she was a kid. But now that she had people—David, Snow, Henry...Killian, she had to admit—the solitude felt bigger without them there.

And, really, she had no one to blame but herself there. Old habits die hard and all that. As much as she tried to tell herself it was better if they weren’t around her germs, she could also really go for a hug right about now; wrapping her arms around herself didn’t quite cut it.

But this was her bed (well, nest of blankets on the couch) and she had to lay in it until this all passed. At least she had Jamie and Claire to distract her.

So she pulled the blankets a little tighter around her and settled in.

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

The next few days passed in a haze of tea, takeout, and the Scottish highlands, though she had to rewatch multiple episodes due to her worsening state and the fact that she kept passing out in the middle (always right before the good stuff, annoyingly). She managed to reply to all of David’s messages fast enough to not cause worry on his end, but that was almost all she had energy for. Bless whoever came up with Door Dash.

And she wasn’t just tired in general—she was tired of being sick. How much longer could one body take to fight off...whatever this was? It had been nearly 6 weeks, all told. The antibiotic script ran out without taking the illness with it. The tea helped a bit, but getting as far as the kitchen to make it was a challenge with the nausea, vertigo, and tunnel vision she was fighting against.

Thank goodness she had an escape on the TV.

(There were a few strange instances, though, where her foggy mind twisted Jamie’s Scottish brogue into Killian’s accent; and damn did their blue eyes look similar, even if the rest of them didn’t. She may have had a couple of vivid dreams along that line, though.)

But then Jamie and Claire both got lovesickness in season 3. And art started imitating life a bit too much for her liking.

Annoyed, she turned off the TV and pulled herself up from couch so she could shuffle into the kitchen and get more tea.

Fucking Outlander. Fucking sassenach. Fucking soulmates. Fucking lovesickness. Fucking Killian.

Not that kind of fucking, though.

Wait, why did her train of thought go there?

Trains...soulmates...lovesick...Killian.

Dammit.

She shook her head as she plopped down on the floor of her kitchen, still wrapped in blankets while waiting on the tea kettle. That was probably a burned bridge, if she was being honest. She hadn’t heard from him in at least two days, so she had to assume he’d given up; it wouldn’t be the first time someone did that to her, but it was probably the most deserved. Try as she might, she still hadn’t forgotten what happened on the train, and she still had no logical explanation for it...save for one.

The kettle was starting to hiss but she ignored it. Had she overreacted? In an effort to avoid what she’d feared for so long, had her own stubbornness and walls just pushed her right into it? Was she really in the same position she’d just seen on her screen...was she lovesick?

A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts, though; it was probably the pizza delivery. She wasn’t even really sure why she’d picked that to order, though it probably had something to do with Killian being on her mind. It took some struggle to pull herself up off the floor, her stiff muscles protesting each movement, but she managed to get upright with only a minor amount of vertigo; maybe she was getting better, after all?

There was another knock. “I’m coming,” she tried to shout, but her voice could only go so loud. As fast as she could manage—which wasn’t very—she limped to the door, brushed her hair behind her ears in a weak attempt at looking presentable, unlatched the lock, and opened it.

But she wasn’t greeted by the smell of dough and melted cheese, or by an annoying teenage delivery boy—no, that was taking its sweet time, as usual. Her heart actually stopped for a brief moment, because on the other side of the door was Killian.

And he looked as awful as she felt.

“Emma,” he breathed, a faint smile pulling at his weary features, but it faded fast as a cough took over and nearly rattled him off the door frame he was leaning on.

“Killian.” She nearly choked on his name. “How...how did you find my address?” They’d somehow never been to each other’s places.

“David,” he answered. Normally, he would have shrugged, but it probably hurt too much right now. Like her, he had dark circles under his eyes and sheen of sweat on his forehead that his hair was clinging to. He had on a pair of scrub pants and a black sweater under his usual leather jacket, under which his chest was heaving after no doubt climbing the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Oddly, he didn’t have his prosthesis on. “Can we please talk, finally?”

Even the blue of his eyes was faded, and that was probably what broke her the most. She nodded and stepped aside, leaving a wide path for him to come in.

He stumbled in and she pointed him towards the couch. “Tea?” she offered, trying to be a good hostess.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he fell against the cushions.

As she poured the tea, she didn’t let herself think of the implications of him being as sick as her. Her walls started to go up and she began to rationalize—he probably picked it up at work; god only knows what kind of stuff he was exposed to there. Maybe she’d gotten it from him when they had their collision?

Very carefully, she moved into the living room and set his mug down on the coffee table, before gently sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “So, you pick up a nasty virus in the ER?” she started, then took a sip.

He cast her an almost annoyed look before reaching for his cup. “I think we both know that’s not the case, love.”

“You don’t know that,” she murmured. “It could be anything.”

He took a sip, then stared at the tea in disbelief as he swallowed. “Where did you get this?”

Now she was the one confused. “Snow; why?”

He snorted derisively. “And it makes you feel better, right?”

“A bit, I guess.”

“Emma, don’t you know what rose tea is for?”

What the heck—did he come over just to fight? She’d understand if he was angry about her ghosting him, but to be so combative? Her hackles were rising. “No, I don’t, Doctor Jones; enlighten me.”

He cautiously set down the mug and then scooted a bit closer to her; she reflexively tried to melt into the arm of the couch. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but said to ease lovesickness.”

She shut her eyes and turned her head. That couldn’t be it—it just couldn’t. Whatever personal revelation she’d been having before his arrival had ran away, buried under her blankets and armor where it belonged.

She didn’t do soulmates...right?

“You can deny the truth, love, but that won’t make it any less real. And like you just said, I’m a doctor—I know what’s going on. Has anything else helped?”

Not opening her eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t know if she could handle whatever emotion was likely simmering in Killian’s gaze.

“Just what do you think happened on the train that day?” he asked softly, though it didn’t sound like he had another volume.

“I don’t know—maybe we said it under our breath,” she tossed out half-heartedly.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Well, what if I don’t want it? What if I don’t want the universe telling me who’s right for me—what if I want to be chosen instead?”

Despite their dulled color, a spark of fire ignited in Killian’s eyes. “What are you calling the past few months, then?” he spat. “I don’t know about you, but those were some of the happiest of my life, and it was all because of you and Henry. I want to be chosen, too—you know that. But you can’t tell me you’re so dense that you didn’t notice us doing exactly that. And you can’t deny you’ve been happy, too; you’re too much of an open book.”

He had her there—it was impossible for her to refute it. Even now, despite the distance she was trying to keep between them, she could feel the pull towards him—she’d missed him so much. But was it just because something was pulling strings somewhere out in the cosmos? Could she trust her own feelings?

“Tell me, love: were soulmates not even a thing, would you hesitate like this?”

That took her by surprise—but then again, everything about Killian had, since the day they met. She couldn’t deny the thoughts and fantasies she’d had about him; those were decidedly romantic in nature. But in her decision to rebel against the entire system, she’d never considered a scenario in which it didn’t exist. There were plenty of people out there who fell in love without it and were happy, but given what she thought she’d had with Neal, she figured it’d be all or nothing for her.

The longer she thought about it, though, her answer became clear: “No, I wouldn’t.”

Cautiously, he smiled, and it looked like he was blinking back tears—but that could have been due to her own fuzzy vision, and she wasn’t sure if it had to do with her emotions or current physical state. “Then why fight it?”

“Because,” she said in a small voice. “What if it’s wrong?”

“Darling, I think we’re well past that.”

She was scraping for excuses now, she knew, and could feel her walls crumbling under his sweet gaze. They weren’t gone yet, though. “What about Milah?”

His brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“I thought you didn’t want anyone else.”

He slumped a bit, but she couldn't tell if that was due to physical or emotional duress; probably both. “Aye, I had thought for a long time that I didn’t want anyone else, that I’d never be capable of letting go of my first love, of finding someone else.” He chewed on his bottom lip and then looked up at her. “That is, until I met you.”

Her breath hitched. There was no going back from a confession like that.

Silence settled over them for a long minute, during which the revelation washed over her. He wanted her—and had for a while, before they made skin contact and ended up here. And the more she reflected on it, she wanted him, too.

She wanted...all of it. Soulmates, happily ever after, the whole shebang.

Oh, who was she kidding? She fucking loved him.

But she was terrible with words—sincere ones, at least. How did she tell him that?

Gingerly, she shifted closer to him; he flinched a little, likely out of the same reflexes she’d honed over the years, but didn’t back away. His right arm was closest to her, and though he was still wearing his jacket, his hand was uncovered. It was a handsome hand, she had to admit—long, graceful fingers, with well-trimmed nails and fine dusting of dark hair on the back. She wondered if the rest of his was just as good-looking. And now, she was determined to find out.

She reached out and tentatively touched the back of his hand; there was an immediate spark at the contact, though, and she pulled back quickly in shock.

Killian’s eyes grew wide and he stared at his hand for what felt like forever; time seemed to freeze around them. But then, slowly, he turned up his palm and looked at her with an encouraging nod and a soft smile.

Emma sat up straighter, as if that would somehow firm her resolve, and took a deep breath. She could do this, totally. (She hoped.)

With a bit more confidence, she again reached for him, and this time, wrapped her delicate fingers around his broad hand. There was still a jolt, but she was ready for it and held tighter instead of retreating. It was immediately followed that same surge of emotion she’d felt on the train: concern, a bit of fear, but most of all—love.

Though she had no idea how this thing worked, she gave it a try. «I love you,» she thought, intensely holding Killian’s stare.

His eyes somehow got even bigger and his mouth parted in surprise, but it only lasted a moment before he was grinning. «I love you, too, Emma.»

Okay, now she really was crying. She never thought she was that kind of sappy girl and usually made sure her tears were reserved for moments that deserved them (Henry’s birth, Snow and Dave’s wedding, and maybe a handful of TV episodes since then). But now? When she was staring at her apparent true love, once she stopped fighting it? All the waterworks.

«Come here,» she heard over their connection, and he pulled her tight to him—though she may have also launched herself at him at the same time, resulting in an audible oof from both of them as they collided against the cushions.

She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and breathed him in. He smelled faintly of rose tea, a lot like sweat, and then, just...Killian. She couldn’t describe it—it was just...him. And it felt like home.

«You smell good, too.»

She winced. «Oh, shit. You weren’t supposed to hear that.»

«You were thinking it rather loudly, love.»

«This is definitely going to take some getting used to.»

«Aye, but I’m up for the challenge if you are.»

«Definitely.»

She sat up, breaking the connection—and found herself immediately missing it. She hadn’t expected that. As soon as skin contact had been broken, her aches and pains began to come back; she hadn’t even noticed they were gone. But that was how it worked, right? The more intense the lovesickness, the longer it took to go away, even when you reconnected.

She was probably going to have to get him naked, wasn’t she?

While the idea of that, and seeing what hid under all those form-fitting layers, was more than appealing, it also made her panic. It’d been so long since she did anything like this; god, did she even remember how to kiss?

Killian had been watching her intently and must have noticed the panic creeping across her face. Cautiously—as if he was approaching a wild animal—he reached up and caressed her cheek. «It’s okay, Emma. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.»

She huffed. «I don’t even know what I want. It’s been so long; I’m rusty with this stuff.»

«Well, that’s convenient.» He gave her a gentle smile. «So am I.»

She took a deep breath and relaxed a bit, but there was still an urge to do—something. It itched under her skin, the desire to be close to him, especially after he let his hand fall away.

So, slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his end; his lips were firm and insistent against hers, and warm—so warm. Any lingering chill from lovesickness melted away at the brush of his soft lips and the feel of his solid form next to her. Which, if she was being honest, was too far away. Using more energy than she had in weeks, she shirked her blankets and moved to straddle his lap. He groaned at the movement, but made no effort to pull away or stop what they were doing. And really, it gave her a bit of a self-satisfied thrill that she could draw that reaction from someone; guess she did still have a bit of game.

«You have plenty of “game,” love—I assure you,» he told her as his tongue flicked against their pressed-together lips.

«Okay, that was a little weird,» she thought; talking and kissing at the same time would definitely take some getting used to.

«Good weird, I hope.»

«Duh.»

They continued to snog like teenagers on the couch, just like she’d once imagined, until the pizza delivery actually did show up. She pulled away to catch her breath, but left her forehead connected to his. «Hope you feel like Pizzeria Regina.»

«With you, darling—anything. Actually, I’m famished.»

«Who knew making out worked up such an appetite?»

He chuckled out loud and it seemed to reverberate through her entire body; that was something that bore revisiting. But she was starving, too, so she hopped up to get the door before the kid inevitably left.

In the few minutes it took her to pay and get plates from the kitchen, she could feel the lovesickness settle back in at an almost alarming rate. She thought it was just the lingering fatigue, but she must have turned to fast after getting dishes from her cupboard because the next thing she knew, the world was spinning and she was on the floor. The nausea was back full-force and food was the last thing she wanted to think about; all she wanted was—“Killian,” she called out, but it was more of a weak moan than a yell.

From her prone position where the living room carpet met the kitchen tile, she could see him hop up from the couch, alarm tensing his entire body. “Emma!” he shouted, voice similarly weak, and took long strides to get to her—but she could see the moment it hit him, too, when he had to grab for the back of the couch to stay upright.

He took a deep breath but then fell to the floor, seemingly intentionally but she couldn’t quite tell—her vision was swimming again, and she closed her eyes against the blur. She could hear him, though, and a moment later felt his rough palm cupping her cheek.

He was speaking out loud, but she could feel his panic through their connection. “Emma, love, are you alright? What happened?”

She blinked a few times before staring up at him; he was hovering on all fours, his eyes darting as he looked her over for injury. The longer he touched her, the better she felt; she wasn’t surprised, but damn, they needed to kick this bullshit.

«Agreed,» came his the echo of his voice in her head, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. «Don’t scare me like that again.»

«I’ll try,» she said, «and I’m sorry.»

«You couldn’t help it, love; no need to apologize.»

«No, not just for that—for everything.» The truth of it was that it was that moment that sealed the deal for her. Other than her family, no one had ever worried about her like that, and the surge of love she felt—both from him and her own feelings—when he gave her that gentle kiss was greater than she’d ever felt. «For ignoring you, for fighting this, for letting us get like this. I’m sorry.» A tear started to fall down her cheek; god, she was officially a sap now.

«Oh, Swan—don’t.» He relaxed down to the floor to lay next to her. «I get it—I nearly did the same a few times, too.»

«You did?» She was surprised how much that shocked her; she was used to it from most people, but not him.

«You should have seen the tests I had my friends in the lab running. Everything from cancer to mono.»

«I nearly bought a pregnancy test at one point,» she giggled. «Don’t we make a pair?»

He smiled back. «We do, love,» came the soft voice, and he ran a hand through her hair. «We do.»

She couldn’t help it anymore: the combination of his emotions and thoughts were mixing with hers and threatening to drown her; she hadn’t felt anything this intense since...well, since Neal, but now she realized how wrong she’d been then. Killian was coming to a similar conclusion, she could tell, but she didn’t want to think about anyone else right now—just him.

So she hitched a leg over his hips, closed the space between them, and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. And maybe grind up on him a bit. (Was that still a thing people did? God, she was so rusty.)

«I don’t know, and I don’t bloody care as long as it’s something we do.» Even his voice in her head was wrecked, to match the way he was panting. He tangled his legs with hers to bring himself closer, mirroring her gesture; she forgot how good dry humping felt.

Hell, all of this—it was like her body was coming back to life after a decade of disuse. Killian’s touch, minimal as it was through the layers of clothes they still had on, was sending those same sparks from earlier through her whole being, inside and out. She wanted to feel everything he could make her feel—she needed him, desperately. And if the growing bulge his scrubs failed to hide was anything, he did too.

«Only if you want to,» he assured her, taking a break from their game of tonsil hockey to catch their breaths, but he still pressed his forehead to hers. «I know you wanted your pizza,» he teased.

«To hell with the pizza.»

She held him tight with her leg one more time, feeling the press of his growing erection against her core—where a fair amount of those sparks had settled—before pecking his lips, sitting up, grabbing his hand and forearm, and somehow managing to untangle their legs without hitting any sensitive areas. He followed her to standing, and she quickly tugged him down the hallway to her bedroom; if she giggled a bit at the idea of having a boy in her room after so long, well, that would stay between them.

They’d no sooner crossed the threshold than she was back on him, pressing him against her dresser on the adjacent wall and probably knocking some books or something off, but that was the last thing on her mind; she was too caught up in finding the perfect way to grip his hips and the way his fingers were toying with the hem of her baggy T-shirt, grazing the skin underneath. She was starting to understand how a sparkler felt, with the way his every touch drew a spark.

As they continued to kiss, her hands began to wander, too, and found the edge of his sweater (she had no idea when he’d ditched the jacket, but that was also low on the list of concerns at the moment). His palm was resting warm and heavy on her waist, so she followed suit, letting her touch slip under fabric to his skin, and started to slide upwards.

To her shock, though, he flinched away, putting distance between them—though not enough that she couldn’t still see the way his chest was heaving under his (extremely well-fitting, she saw now) sweater. His eyes were cast on the floor and he was clenching his jaw nervously.

«Hey, what’s wrong?» she asked gently, but didn’t want to make a move if it might jar him more.

«It’s nothing; it’s just that...no one has seen me like this since...since the accident.»

Oh, god—she hadn’t even thought about that. Here she was worrying about her own skills when there were much bigger issues to be dealt with—on both ends, probably. «We don’t have to.»

«No, I want to,» he assured her, finally meeting her gaze again. «I just remembered all of a sudden, and...I’m afraid it’s not all that pretty.»

Well, she knew a thing or two about having scars. But she hadn’t given them much thought until now; they didn’t really bother her all that much. Which, she supposed, meant only one thing.

«Then let me go first.»

He tried to protest, but she ignored it as she guided his hand up her side, encouraging him to go higher. They both stilled when he reached her bare breast—she’d forgotten she hadn’t bothered with a bra in several days, and he wasn’t expecting the lack of obstruction when his thumb grazed her nipple. She sensed an odd combination of panic and thrill coming from him, and a polite apology started to form, which was when Emma found the lone downside to having an almost telepathic connection with her soulmate: she couldn’t shut him up with a kiss.

«But you can keep trying,» he suggested, winking terribly. His deep chuckle echoed in her mind and goosebumps rose on her skin.

He left his hand on her breast while she shimmied out of her top, moving only far enough away to slip it off and toss it aside. The cooler air plus her growing arousal were evidenced by her peaked nipples, and she didn’t miss the way his gaze drifted south.

And in one swift motion, she slid off her oversized pajama pants, letting them fall to the floor and leaving her completely naked.

His hungry gaze darted around, scanning her body, and for a moment, the same self-consciousness he was feeling slipped in—no one had seen her naked in ages, either, not since before Henry was born; she was by no means out of shape, but pregnancy had left its marks, in addition to all the other ones she’d acquired over the years. For the first time in a long time, she felt somewhat exposed—but the feeling evaporated under his reverent stare.

«You are bloody stunning, love; every part of you.» He pulled her closer and placed yet another soft kiss against her temple; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of those, or the accompanying wave of love that threatened to drown her with each one. He took a deep breath, then, «I suppose it’s my turn, then?»

«Only if you want.»

He swallowed. «Lend me a hand?»

She giggled. «Of course, but you have to promise to never make a hand joke again.»

«We’ll see.»

She could kiss the smirk off his face, at least, and proceeded to do so as her hands made their way back to his waist and slipped beneath his sweater. Slowly, she dragged upwards, his sweater bunching at her wrists as she uncovered his stomach. She was curious to look, but didn’t want to pull away until she needed to.

Her fingers were the first to discover the hair on his chest as they slid through it; it was thick and soft to the touch—a contrast to the firm muscles beneath. Despite all her dreaming, that was a detail that never quite worked its way into her fantasies—she’d never much cared for it before—but now, it seemed to perfectly fit him. And she was anxious to see it.

She’d gone as far as she could on her own, her hands coming to rest on his collarbones, her thumbs settling into the dips there. Killian took over then, lifting his arms to tug off his left sleeve above her head and not breaking the kiss until he was pulling the shirt off altogether—and then her breath was nearly stolen.

Killian may have said she was stunning, but he was fucking gorgeous. He wasn’t one of those ripped gym rats, like she had once thought he’d be, but he was clearly strong—a solid core and lean muscles, with biceps that looked like they could both hold her hips tight in the throes of passion and then cuddle her close after. Dark hair perfectly covered his pecs and drew a trail down the center of his stomach, disappearing into the scrubs that he absolutely needed to take off. And there were scars, yes—scattered around his upper body, but most obviously at the end of his left arm—but if anything, they just made him more...real.

«Did you doubt I was?» he ribbed. (Which, speaking of ribs, she could just see the outline of his, and knew hers were on similar display—a reminder of how bad things had gotten for both of them; never again, though.)

«I dunno; this all kind of seems like a strange dream come to life.»

He stepped closer and placed his hand and wrist on her waist. «A good dream, I trust?»

«An incredible one, but one that I never really dared to hope for.»

He placed his forehead on hers—another gesture she was coming to adore. «I know the feeling.»

For a long moment, they just breathed each other in and floated in the swirl of their shared emotions going back and forth; she was starting to lose track if the love she felt cresting in her heart was her own for him or his for her. It seemed endless, though, so as long as it never ran out, it probably didn’t matter what belonged to who.

«I can assure you, it won’t run dry.»

«Good.»

She reached for his shoulders again and pressed against him, finding his lips for what felt like the hundredth time—and she hadn’t had enough, not at all, nor would she likely ever. But, as she arched her pelvis up against too many layers of cotton, she knew she’d had enough of these damn scrub pants.

His laughter rang in her head as she ignored any rules of propriety and ran her hands down his back until she hit the elastic band of his pants and dipped under them, right to his bare (well, slightly fuzzy) cheeks and gripped. That brought him even closer to her, his chest hair brushing against her nipples and his erection pressing into her core.

«These really need to come off.»

«There’s nothing stopping you.»

«Thank God.»

She wasted no time in slipping them off his narrow hips, barely waiting for them to hit the floor before she was changing their direction, only pausing long enough for him to step out of the legs lest he trip, before she was pushing him in the direction of her bed. The back of his legs hit the edge of the mattress and he tried to sit, but she stayed on top of him until he fell back against the bed with her straddled over his hips. She could feel his cock pressing against her waiting entrance, but not at all in the way she wanted—no, needed him.

«Can’t I properly lavish you, my love?» he enquired coquettishly as he massaged her breast with his hand and brought her closer to his level with the other arm. «I want to make you feel good.»

God, that sounded amazing, and she wanted to reciprocate. But him pulling her flat to his chest had just made it more painfully obvious that he wasn’t inside her, and that was all she wanted. She was more than ready—he had to be aware of that—and logically, she knew that was the fastest way to dispel whatever was left of their lovesickness. (That, and she’d gotten a good look at his shaft when she’d pulled his pants off and—damn.)

«Next time—I promise.» She was panting with want. «But right now, I need to feel you.»

He nodded; he was just as breathless. «Okay; where do you want me?»

«On top.»

«As you wish.»

Smoothly, he flipped them over so that she was flat on her back and he was hovering above her, propped on his left forearm. He placed one last, long kiss against her lips, then sat back on his haunches to ready himself.

A bit of nervousness snuck in here—she really hadn’t done this since...well, probably not since Henry was conceived. She knew she needed to lift her hips up a bit and would need to help him out, but did she remembered how to set the rhythm? How to meet him thrust for thrust?

«We’ll figure it out together, love,» he said with a soft smile and gentle caress of his blunted wrist on her thigh. He was a bit nervous, too, but knowing they were in the same boat made it all the easier.

And then she watched as he stroked himself and anything other than desire faded away. Her own fingers unconsciously drifted to her clit and began stroking, needing some sort of relief.

When he was ready, he shifted forward into the open embrace of her legs. «You ready?»

«So.»

«Can you…?»

“Yeah,” she breathed out loud; it still took some conscious effort to communicate nonverbally and her brain power was becoming increasingly limited. But she sat up enough to take her own hold of his velvety cock—one she could not wait to take in hand and mouth at a later date—and guided it to her entrance, circling it gently.

They were both a bit anxious about what came next—would it feel like the first time all over again?—but she nodded at Killian to go ahead, and he slid inside in one smooth motion.

Oh, God—she’d forgotten what this felt like. Yeah, she had her toys, but nothing could replicate the feel of the real thing: the heat, the smell, the emotion. This was exactly what she needed—exactly who she needed.

«You feel bloody amazing, darling.» They hadn’t even started moving and already, he sounded wrecked.

«So do you, oh my god.»

She pulled him down by the neck to kiss him again, taking a long moment to get used to the feel of him, even though in some ways, he felt familiar—like he was a perfect fit.

«I mean, we are soulmates,» he reminded her.

«Yeah, but I didn’t think that applied to body parts, too.»

«I fail to see any negatives here.»

«Oh, definitely not.»

He turned the attention of his lips to her neck, tickling her with his stubble, which made her squirm—and then gasp, because it drew just the slightest bit of friction where they were joined together. And it felt incredible.

«That good, eh? We barely did anything.»

She wrapped a leg around him and pressed her foot against his ass, moving him again. «No more teasing; just move.»

It took longer than she’d care to admit for them to figure out the right pace—being soulmates didn’t mean they were automatically in sync (which was probably descriptive of their entire relationship)—but they eventually got there, to a point where she could meet him at every push and he found the perfect angle to hit every sensitive point inside. He groaned when she clenched, and she moaned whenever he pressed hard enough to brush her clit. And in no time at all—but also possibly forever? Time was weird—she was near the edge of release, so close to falling off.

«Let go, Emma; I want to see you come.»

«I want you to go with me.»

He let out a deep exhale. «I’ll try.»

He picked up the pace and her already racing heart struggled to keep up with it, but in the end, she couldn’t; she reached her peak and crested it with a shout, fireworks going off behind her eyes as he continued to thrust into her.

It didn’t take much longer for him to follow her, though, and even though she was caught up in her own rapture, she could feel him stutter as he climaxed and spilled into her. (Good thing she still took the pill, if only for the cycle regularity.) He was dangerously close to collapsing on top of her but still, she held him tight with her legs, as if he might disappear if she didn’t.

But he was done depressingly soon, and her legs were no match for the dead weight that was leaning against them as he fell to her side on the mattress. Every part of her was tingling, as if each cell in her body was renewed after that. She cracked an eye open, and despite the dim light coming through her bedroom curtain, Killian was nearly effulgent as they lay there in the afterglow. She knew they needed to clean up, and probably text David so that he knew they weren’t dead, but that could be dealt with later; right now, she just wanted to soak this in.

Killian reached across the short distance between them and pulled her tight to his chest; she was right—those biceps were perfect for being held. «How was it?» he asked shyly.

«Only the greatest orgasm of my life; how about you?»

He smirked. «Roughly the same, I think.»

She placed a gentle peck on the scar on his cheek. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.» He sighed and snuggled into her neck. «Now what?»

«We’ll deal with that later,» she sighed. «Right now, this is perfect.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

«You were wearing this when we met,» he thought as he wrapped himself around her from behind, adorably resting his chin on her bare shoulder.

She was getting dressed—after round 2, where they did get to lavish each other, then round 3 in the shower—into a very familiar blouse and rather unseasonable pair of shorts; he’d only gotten as far as his pants.

«Mhmm. This is what I was going to wear, until I found out some random guy was gonna be there. Couldn’t run around exposing myself like that, now could I?»

«I don’t know; might have saved us a lot of time.»

She turned in his arms and hugged him tight, loving the feel of his warm skin under her palms. «No, probably not. I was nowhere near ready then.»

«And now?» he asked; even if they weren’t communicating verbally, his facial expressions—including the signature quirk of his eyebrow—remained the same.

«Ready for anything.» She emphasized it by rising on her toes to give him a quick kiss. «But if you don’t get a shirt on soon, David is gonna send a search party.»

«Let him,» Killian smirked, and made a move to plant a kiss on her neck that she narrowly dodged, only by jumping away; of course he’d noticed she was ticklish there.

“I’m serious, Killian!” Now that she was getting used to their telepathic connection, it felt like was the first time she’d used her voice in ages; at least she was laughing as she chastised him. “I walked in on him and Snow enough and as much as I might like the idea of revenge, I do NOT want to subject Henry to that.”

He brushed a tendril of hair off her shoulder, but left his hand there and gave her a beyond cheeky smirk. «It’s bound to happen at some point.»

She just rolled her eyes. «Put your damn shirt on.»

Somewhere in there, they had let David know they were alive and would be heading over shortly. They made no mention of the other, though; Killian would join them later, after he went home to change, and honestly—they just wanted to see the reaction, especially from Snow. She did worry a bit about Henry, but knowing how good they were together kept her concern to a minimum.

After Killian pouted some more but eventually complied with her request for clothing (one of the few times she’d ever have to ask, she hoped), she drove him over to his building—which really was close, but he’d taken a Swyft to her place. They shared a quick kiss goodbye and then she was alone.

It was surprising how quickly that empty feeling came over her again now that she was by herself—how quickly she’d gotten used to his presence, particularly over the last few life-changing hours, but the past months as well. Hopefully, the cops weren’t around, because she pressed the gas pedal a little bit harder—she couldn’t wait to see everyone again. Now that she knew for a fact there was someone else on her side—that she didn’t have to isolate herself anymore—she didn’t want to at all.

At least it was a short drive, and Henry was waiting for her on the front porch when she pulled up to the house. “Mom! I missed you!” he shouted as he ran for her, then grabbed her in a bruising hug. God, it seemed like he’d grown half a foot in the last few days.

“I missed you too, kid.” But it took the same amount of effort as usual to kiss the top of his head, so at least she hadn’t missed anything.

She did feel a bit guilty that she’d still managed to succumb to the one thing she’d worked so hard to avoid, but at least she knew it would never happen again.

“You’re all better now?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

“Yup; all better. And I promise to not let myself get that sick again.”

“Good. I was ready to sick Killian on you.”

She snorted; that was not something she was going to try to verify nor dispute. And he didn’t notice, thank God; it was bad enough he knew what cockblocking was. He just dragged her to the backyard, where Snow and Dave were waiting.

Their immediate grins turned over to a bit of shock, probably at her outfit; she was definitely dressed for summer, and while it was unusually warm for the last week of October, it was barely 70 degrees. But she hadn’t felt the breeze on her skin in so long, and hey—she had a point to make.

“Well, don’t you look...summery,” Snow assessed as she gave her a hug; David was, per usual, at the grill. “Oh, but I forgot to tell you: Killian’s coming too.”

Snow was a terrible liar: she hadn’t forgotten at all. If the not-so-hidden gleam in her eye was any hint, this was yet another matchmaking scheme. But Emma could play along this once.

“Oh, okay,” she shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’ll keep my space.”

Henry was catching her up on what he’d learned at school that week and the latest drama with his friends when Killian arrived. She was trying her damnedest to keep up with what Henry was telling her about his science class, but Killian’s presence was exceedingly distracting—especially with the way he sauntered in wearing a form-fitting t-shirt that both hugged his biceps and revealed a peek at his chest hair, and khaki shorts that showed off his calves. Even though she knew what lay underneath all that, she could still feel the pull of arousal.

She turned her focus back to Henry as Killian greeted Dave and then Snow, trying her best to play it cool. If that was a thing she could still do (probably not). But it was like every part of her was in tune with him now, and couldn’t help but react when he made his way over to the table they were sitting at.

“Is this seat taken?” he enquired, nodding at the chair next to Emma.

“Go ahead,” she said, unable to keep a hint of a smile off her face.

But he didn’t get a chance to sit before Henry had hopped up and wrapped him in a hug, too. Any lingering worries about Henry’s potential reaction immediately disappeared as she watched the tender interaction between them, on both their ends—they’d both clearly felt the absence of the other, so now she was feeling a bit guilty instead.

Like she’d told herself earlier, though: it wouldn't happen again.

They took their seats on either side of her—Killian on her left, Henry on her right—and Henry relaunched his stories. Aside from some light footsie, they hadn’t made contact yet, though his arm resting on the surface of the table was only inches from hers. Eventually, Henry realized that all the parts of Killian’s prosthesis were exposed, so that gave her an opportunity to make a move, when Killian was leaning over the table to show it to Henry.

Surreptitiously, she let her forearm touch his, where he was bracing himself on the table with it. The only indication he gave that he noticed was the brief straightening of his spine, but she immediately sensed his emotions again—happiness, a bit of hunger, but mostly love.

«I missed you,» he told her while Henry was inspecting the mechanics of the prosthesis.

«It wasn’t even an hour,» she teased.

«Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel the same? Because I can tell that’s not true.»

«No, I definitely missed you, too.»

The connection was broken when he sat back down—when Snow brought the food over. She proceeded to mother hen them as she distributed the food, making sure they were both feeling better—and asking some pointed questions about the rose tea.

“Yeah, it did help a lot,” Emma gushed.

“Aye; thank you, milady,” Killian added, ever the gentleman.

Snow seemed pleased, but there was still a level of concern in her manner that anyone could see; she didn’t think her plan was working, to which Emma hid her smirk in a bite of hot dog. (She could see wheels turning in Henry’s head, though.)

She and Killian continued to act cool to each other through the meal, save the occasional brush of the leg under the table (which was mostly to laugh at Snow’s matchmaking attempt).

Finally, Snow left with Henry to take the dishes inside and David cleaned up the grill, leaving them alone. She put her shin against his leg again while pretending to look at her phone.

«Do it when she comes back?» she proposed.

«Yeah, but wait for her to set the pie down; I’d hate for her to drop it.»

«Good point.»

And so, casually, once Snow had brought the pie to the table and made the first cut, Emma wrapped her hand around Killian’s and waited for everyone to notice.

“Emma, do you want ice...OH MY GOD.”

There it was: the reaction they expected from Snow. She’d dropped the serving knife, which landed with a clatter on the table, and was staring at their joined hands with wide eyes and jaw hanging open. Eventually she blinked and slammed her mouth shut, but continued to stare at them.

“But—you were—” she stammered, a pointed finger drifting between the two of them. “I thought—I didn’t—”

Emma was trying really hard not to laugh and could feel how amused Killian was, too. David just looked confused, and Henry was a bit slack-jawed, though she could tell it was in a good way.

Then it was like a lightbulb went on in Snow’s head, and she turned to David. “I called it! I totally called it!”

She then fell into girlish squeals while David, instead, levied a wary eye on Killian. “Is this why you wanted their address?”

“Um, yeah.”

David squinted. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Killian answered.

Henry piped up. “Do I wanna know?”

“Absolutely not!” Emma cut in.

All eyes were on Henry, though, as he stood and walked around Emma’s chair to Killian.

“Do you love my mom?” he asked, with all the severity a 10-year-old boy could muster.

“I do,” Killian said, and it almost sounded like a vow.

“And you promise not to hurt her, or to run away on us?” She didn’t miss the way he said “us”; she was a little surprised they hadn’t discussed it, but Killian knew he was getting a package deal—he had from the beginning.

“I’d rather be sent to the depths of Hades.”

«Drama queen,» she told him, but Killian’s eyes only flickered over to hers for a moment as he continued to hold Henry’s stare.

“Okay then,” Henry nodded, then seemed to think for a moment before launching himself at Killian again. “Welcome to the family.”

She didn’t need their connection to know how that made Killian feel: his eyes grew wide for a moment, but then they closed and he returned the hug full-force. She’d had the same reaction when she was adopted all those years ago; and though this was a totally different situation, it was still the same emotion.

Snow wanted all the details, obviously, and David and Henry wanted none, so they complied until the sun set and it was time to go home, both of them feeling the chill in their weather-inappropriate wardrobes.

They stood by their cars, locked in an embrace—both because of a desire to stay close and desire to get warm.

«Well, that went reasonably well,» he decided.

«Yeah, pretty good. I expected a bit more screaming though.»

«Same,» he chuckled.

«When can I see you next?» This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to; they weren’t in any danger of lovesickness again—not if she had anything to say about it—but there was still the reality that they had different jobs and different homes. (For the time being, at least.)

He shrugged. «We never got to enjoy that pizza. Maybe we try again tomorrow night?»

«Sounds perfect.» She underlined it by rising to her toes to place a lingering kiss on him.

“Are you guys gonna be like this all the time now?” Henry called out from the other side of the Bug, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“Yup,” she yelled back. “Get used to it.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, but it was half-hearted; she could hear the happiness in his voice.

«Well, we shouldn’t try to scar him too much.»

«That’s a change in tone from earlier.»

«I didn’t have his approval yet. Didn’t you hear? I’m part of the family now.» She could really fell his joy at that now.

«You already were; you know that, right?»

«It’s nice to have confirmation.»

«Yeah, I know.» She kissed him again. «And I hope you never doubt it again.»

He was the one to pull her close this time, stealing her breath with a kiss that she hoped would get her through the next day. «Not as long as I have you. I love you.»

«I love you, too,» she sighed. «Onto the next adventure?»

«After you, love.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

It wasn’t like a switch was flipped and they were just happy-true love all the time. There were still bumps in the road, they had their share of fights, and their past fears and walls still haunted them on occasion.

Several months passed before they moved in together—months that didn’t look all that different from the previous ones, save for the regular sleepover. They couldn’t decide whose apartment to move to, but Henry was the one to quash that dispute when he found a house for sale a couple streets over from Snow and Dave.

They were almost always touching when they were together, and even more so once they lived together—and their connection only grew. She didn’t realize that it could, but the longer they were together, the more impossibly in tune they became.

And she finally got to experience shared dreams—for real this time. And it was mostly amazing, but people with baggage like theirs didn’t only have sweet dreams; they had nightmares, too. More than once, she saw the crash that took Milah, and Killian saw Neal’s death several times. The worst ones were when the two became melded together and they dreamed about losing each other; those were the nights they came together to make sure the dreams weren’t real—to feel the other there.

Granted, that wasn’t the only time they got it on—they did that fairly regularly and with vigor, which was probably why their daughter, Hope, came along sooner rather than later.

(But not before Snow got to plan their wedding, at least. They’d been right: she started the binder the day they met.)

All told, it was...perfect. It was both everything she expected and nothing like it, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it had taken her so long to warm up to the idea.

«You just hadn’t met me yet,» Killian teased, standing behind her on their patio and looking out over their backyard. Snow and David were there, with their son Leo toddling after Hope and Henry chasing them both around. Maybe it was a cliche, but she was pretty sure this was what happily ever after looked like.

«Nope, I hadn’t,» she confirmed, and pulled his arms a bit tighter around her. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks@mryddinwilt@cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @fergus80@pirateherokillian@bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @killianmesmalls@effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @distant-rose @athenascarlet @kmomof4@ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose@snowbellewells@idristardis @scientificapricot @let-it-raines @shireness-says@courtorderedcake @its-okay-killian @captainsjedi @a-faekindagirl

#cs ff #cssns 2019 #cs soulmates au #sick of love #my ff

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ixiraider · 4 years

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I’m extremely lenient towards the few glitches that exist in The Darkest Faerie cuz overall I think it’s a fantastic game that was made with very little and it’s overall done so so so well, the little imperfections mostly just make me sad cuz it is so good and it wouldn’t take much more to clean up the last few issues to make it perfect. I think if I were to have the power to go through and “fix” the game the major glitch I would want to address is the fact that the Arena District in Act IV is permanently trapped in cursed-mode after you save it. I also would desperately want to bring back the cut Ancient Castle Spires level, because I think it’s such a cool location. To be honest I still have no clue why it was cut, especially considering it was featured in the original game trailer. Though maybe that means that it was one of their earliest “finished” levels, and it does utilize a lot more environmental “danger” outside of enemies than most of the rest of the game (moving spiked obstacles, lasers, etc) which makes it a cool trailer level, but they scrapped it as they developed more that they felt would fit the area better that also fit the tone of the rest of the game’s atmosphere more? I mean, the purple lasers are an outlier, and the “infiltrating Meridell from the sewers” sequence is already sooooo long and exhausting... but there are other “weird” moments in the game (like everything going on in the Werelupe Woods crypt with its rainbow bridge eyeball puzzles????) and the occasional weird moment makes it fun and memorable and I still think it looks really cool :(

Also I feel like this practically goes without saying but the Darkest Faerie’s final boss fight would need to be changed hugely to actually be an engaging final fight, and I do agree with the people who say that there should have been post-game quests and stuff, just because they made such a cool fun huge world for that game and it would have been really cool to have had the ability (maybe get a “flight”/fast travel option where you can ride Solarin the Uni to quickly move between locations like Meridell/Brightvale, Faerieland, and Altador) and it’s sad that after the main quest ends it’s just instantly over. And I guess overall there are little things I would want to just add to, because I do think that for reasons that prolly had to do with either budget or time some stuff gets less attention than it could have, like certain scenes that should have been cutscenes, certain boss battles that could have been harder, etc.

I think the biggest thing I would want to change though is that I really genuinely don’t like Act II (Robert’s Story). Even as a kid I didn’t like how they did it. It’s so short. Tormund’s Story in Act I is HUGE and Act III is absolutely huge as well. Tor gets so much time and development and we see his entire journey from being a farmboy taking care of chores for his parents to being a squire and doing chores and quests for the castle to becoming a fully-fledged knight. There’s so much to explore and tons of side quests and story development. Roberta gets almost nothing. Every quest is main story-relevant/required, there are no side quests at all. Some of the pivotal cutscenes are optional and we don’t even get a cutscene when Jerdana gives her the amulet... which is for a silly reason too. She just does it at random and then asks Roberta if she’ll get her petpet out of a tree 😭 It’s so anticlimactic and so less meaningful than Tor and it does feel like Roberta is left as an aside or a secondary character for the vast majority of the game. Her only shining moment is really when she gets Fyora’s Rod in Act III and that’s only short lived... If I were to “remake” or “improve” The Darkest Faerie I would totally redo Act II. I think it would be really cool to maybe give Roberta diplomat missions other than the one we see, where we can learn more about her ahead of time (they could even just use preexisting locations, like Market Town and Bogshot, but keep the larger areas you’ll explore in Act III inaccessible?). They could be missions that involve her using magic to defend herself and others during her travels. Jerdana could still ask Roberta to help her with her petpet but instead of it just being up a tree maybe it’s missing and you have to go on a more dangerous quest to find it. Hell, even if the order was just rearranged and Roberta saw the petpet, rescued it out of kindness alone without being told to ahead of time, and THEN Jerdana saw that and gave her the amulet because she could tell she was goodhearted... Anything like that coulda been better. Roberta just deserved way more than what Act II gave her as a setup I feel. As a kid I always preferred Tor for a lot of reasons, partly cuz I’m a guy so I just usually preferred playing as guys in games but also because I loved dogs and knights and found close-range attacks more fun, but it definitely feels like Roberta is an afterthought... and considering early concept art shows that she didn’t even exist, and it looks like her original counterpart was actually much younger and treated as much less significant than Tor (look at the original box art!), it looks like she kind of was.

None of this is to complain about the game though. I adore The Darkest Faerie to death and this is my rambling out of love thinkin about little things that would be fun to change. Maybe someday for fun I’ll write a novelization of the game and keep most things intact but add more to the things that I’d love to have seen developed more in the game! 🤔

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lestatdesade · 5 years

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I've been trying not to take adderall bc its been fucking up my skin big time but when I take it I feel so. much. better. It doesnt entirely remove the fatigue but it does mitigate the brain fog and lets me avctually think about things. Also yesterday I was like "wow i've been so unproductive" but actually I plowed through my entire list minus a couple drawings that I cant do bc I ran out of decent paper to draw on. Like I work 5 days on, then 5 days off, but the museam is closed on certain days that are low traffic or have privately done tours. So its a bit weird. But yeah yrsterday I scanned ALMOST ALL THE FILM IVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING ON, I just have one more roll to scan left!!! Then I can justify sending out some more rolls that I have to be developed. Oh, and I got a 45 year old sx70 camera from a flea market thats in super good condition and the 2 pics I took look great but I havent had the chance to take it somewhere nice to use it. It kind of needs full daylight to work and it's been raining or too hot for me to go outside at all. It's such a nicely built camera. I said that I wouldnt get one bc it requires different film than my other polaroid cameras but it's really nice, heavy leather and metal build. and it folds up to be super compact??? It's so, so nice and I'm forever salty that modern tech devices just don't have thje same quality. Everything these days is built to be shitty and have no life. This camera is older than me, and tbh, it'll probably outlive me and still function well. but with the huge advances that we've made technologically, none of my current electronics will ever hope to outlive my 70s camera. I don't think its a lack of ability for companies to construct quality goods, bc manufactuering in a digital age of laser tech thats very uniform and not human made is easier, but they PURPOSEFULLY skimp on quality to sell more. to me, thats just the fuckin epitome of stupid. Like hey, we have such incredible technological knowledge, but lets fuckin ignore it so we can make more money from having phones and computers that are pretty much disposable in usage bc they have such a short lifespan. idk it just bothers me, but as a lead on, I've been working super hard on learning new art skills. I've been working a great deal w/ watercolors and I am dabbling in using UV resin. when i visisted my grandma for her birthday, I asked if I could pick one of her beloved pansy flowers. So I picked it, pressed it and encased it in resin to make a pendant. I think she's really going to love it. She makes great pressed flower art, so i fee like its a collab between us, though I don't have nearly as much experience. She gave me a pressed flower arrangement she did and framed it for me for christmas and everytime i see it I m just filled with this kind of overwhelming happiness that she made it for me. I always feel very bleak about my life expectancy since my dad died before he hit 50, and my mother is in her midsixties and I doubt if she'll make it to 70. But my grandma is like, in her 90s and walks without assistance, climbs stairs, routinely spends time with friends, and is probably more mentally sharp than I am. So I'm hoping my parents bS will skip a generation and I'll get my grandmas health. I'm not really afraid to die, but I think looking at how my parents lack of longevity doesnt really make me feel positive about the fact that I'm inching closer and closer to 30 and that I'm sure that all the psychiatric meds I've taken, and all this stress and fatigue have greatly shortened my life span. But I'm trying to keep positive and realize that much of my goals in life that have been long term were made out of internalizing toxic ideas and psychological manipulation and gaslighting. I know that deep down, most of the ideas that I have formed around even the most basic concepts of life, death and selfqworth are tainted by the abuse I went through as a kid. But I'm reearning a lot of it and really thinking about things in a way that is detached from my own experiences, and trying to reposition my perspectives. I think the idea that anyone can unlearn the hatred they are taught and that even some really "defined:" beliefs we have are more or less conditioning has really hanged the way I feel about myself. I'm less concerned about my own mortality, my legacy, and the thoughts of others. I just want to enjoy this experience of being alive, and anything more was really a lie and a delusion that I was tricked into thinking. I used to belive that if I didn't EXCEED EXPECTATIONS and make a mastery of myself then that would prove my abusers right, and confirm the idea that I am worthless as truth. But I have learned that basing peoples worth off of their success is stupid, and I can't change the illness that has destroyed all my hopes and dreams. And also that well, I don't NEED to have these crazy, unattainable goals and pipedreams to make myself feel like I deserve to live. I deserve to live, exactly as I am, even if I am a nuerotic loser who lives with my mom despite being nearly 30 and having a job. I domt have to be some fucking legend to show people that I didn't need to kill myself. I never should have felt as though that was an obligation to begin with. I exist because I do, and I don't hurt others or act recklessly in a way that endangers other people. I don't hoard resources so that others cant use them. I'm just a nuetral being, thats akll

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frankensteindotpdf · 5 years

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69-💯 ask meme GO

oh god here we go. under the cut

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

ambivert tbh...i usually spend a lot of time being alone or being with people and after too long i crave the opposite.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope. almost once but my mom said it was too expensive

71. What makes you nervous?

every single thing ever. legit just...everything. Being in a car. Talking to people. Not hearing from people. Eating. Not eating. Watching my nephews. Letting their parents watch them instead. Wearing clothes that make me look good. Wearing clothes that make me feel comfortable. Ghosts. The concept of just stopping existing instead. Like...name a thing that exists or doesnt and im nervous about it.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

yeah, sometimes. depends on my mood. Outside? All the time if im alone. Inside? a lot of he time if im alone lmao ok so usually yeah but not if im with someone else

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends on the mistake and the person? but most of the time i do, yeah

74. Are you ticklish?

yes extremely so but if anyone tries it ill fuckin kill you

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

not that i know of. i try to stay out of drama. It’s exhausting.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

just like...babysitting. Or I guess cadets (like military club for kids in Canada) counts but im terrible at it. I cant give orders

77. Have you ever drank underage?

hehe yeah

78. Have you ever done drugs?

not yet ;) nah real talk i wanna try edibles or smth but i also am worried about psychosis so im gonna wait till my brains a lil more developed (even tho weed is legal now yee yee)

79. Who was your first real crush?

oh god probably this kid in my class in SK...i had a crush on him for like 10 years it was nuts (unless you count fictional characters because lbr probably madeline or hermione)

80. How many piercings do you have?

just the classic earlobes, but im seriously considering getting a helix

81. Can you roll your Rs?

yep and my brother cant so i mock him all the time hehe

82. How fast can you type?

average for a person who has to look at the keys i suppose

83. How fast can you run?

not very fast at all. ive always hated running. im more of an endurance type of guy. ill walk for hours but i can only run for like...30 seconds

84. What color is your hair?

Supposed to be teal, faded to a minty green. (naturally brown)

85. What color is your eyes?

Hazel, leaning more towards green (though my mom would beg to differ) but my three year old nephew says they’re green and he’s v confident in his knowledge of colours so duh mom clearly they are green

86. What are you allergic to?

GOD i have seasonal allergies and on top of that im allergic to cats, apples, cherries, some scents and detergents, peanuts and tree nuts, maybe carrots?? and maybe this one brand of toothpaste??? i need to get tested again (THIRD time) i hate it. I still eat everything im not supposed to eat tho (aside from the raw fruits..those ones make my mouth hella itchy)

87. Do you keep a journal?

always wanted to, never had the commitment necessary

88. What do your parents do?

Mom’s a nurse, dad’s a business clerk at a hospital

89. Do you like your age?

yes. Im having a Great Time. I wanted to diiiieeee in high school but university is such a good time (im like a week away from my bday so like...not yet but in a week ill be having a Good Time cuz ill be able to buy alcohollll)

90. What makes you angry?

People judging other people, especially when you dont know em and also stubborn people??? like GOD nothing makes me more angry than a person who just refuses to do or try smth for no reason i dont know why other than that i dont really get angry too often (mostly just frustrated lmao)

91. Do you like your own name?

I DONT KNOW im having such a problem with it i just dont know its pretty femme and spelled weird and i cant decide if i like having a femme name or not cuz i dont like being percieved as feminine most of the time but i dont hate hate hate my name???? for now ill just say i dont like the spelling and idk if i like the name

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

Nope. Im not carrying kids so i dont need to unless i end up with a partner that wants to (and the like....science and money to do so). I also like the idea of adopting, so if i do have kids they’ll already come with names lmao

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

gender....is not important*

*obvs except when dysphoria is involved but like...it dont matter to me a kid’s a kid (also who says they wont be nb) (yes most sjw answer ik but i seriously could not give less fucks)

94. What are you strengths?

im pretty nice and good at art (in different forms)

95. What are your weaknesses?

im bad at admitting my strengths lmao and im a big ole hypocrite and i could keep making this list forever

96. How did you get your name?

My parents wanted to name me after my grandmas but their first names were a lil odd so they went with middle names, but then they didnt want alliteration so they changed a c to a k and then they also didnt like the way one name was pronounced so they tweaked it and now i have a name that seems obvious but is apparently both very difficult and very difficult to spell and say, considering no one ever gets it first try (Karaline, pronounced “Kara-line”)

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

Not that im aware of

98. Do you have any scars?

yeah, just little ones from scratching mosquito bites too much or random childhood injuries nothing too interesting Except for one/two on my arm from a staple sticking out of a chair it hurt so bad lmao and now ive got a scar that (tw) looks like self harm and i was so mad cuz like...i never did and now im stuck with this mark that looks like i did and PEOPLE HAVE COMMENTED ON IT i want to die everytime

99. Color of your bedspread?

grey and black cuz im EMO but also i have one that looks like a galaxy and i love

100. Color of your room?

purple and white

in conclusion f u lola but also this was kinda fun so maybe..not

#god that took forever #knicodiangelo

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convervative-blog · 5 years

Text

essay preparation, Conservative Judaism: Our Ancestors To Our Descendants by Elliot M. Dorff

alright buds gonna go thru this book, theres chapters and then like essay questions, so im here reading the chapters then answering the essay questions. im fucken ignorant as shit so this is all my stupid opinions that im still developing and it might change as i learn more idk. enjoy, lots of surprise-zionism in here skip if thats not ur thing

I. yes services start early morning we do prelims then shacharit torah & musaf then kiddush congregants range in ages from young to elderly (predominantly older tho) and in observance from super frum (ok like 5 of us lol) to basically secular & very pluralistic no one cares, very close-knit, "maritime personality disorder" very evident, love it

II. never studied at yeshiva or went to hebrew school, looking into doing so (u know when), actually the reason i picked up this book, im inherently drawn to like childrens resources (this is a highschool level book but u get it) bc as an adult i missed out on jewish child education, so im drawn to childrens resources to "learn from the start" so to speak

III. parents are gentiles, no jewish identity really, grandma resolutely denied being a jew though got 'mistaken' for one almost daily due to last name and appearance, 'corrected' people constantly, got bullied for it (i say grandma but its still patrilineal dont @ me), she didnt know anything about judaism and was frequently antisemitic and firmly catholic

IV. conservative judaism means that halachic rules are binding but that they should and must be interpreted via the lens of the society in which we live, in order to reduce suffering and increase overall observance (e.g. women, lgbt+, accessibility), conservative judaism also means an affordance of leniency in individualistic expressions of obligatory mitzvot

V. emancipation occurred from 1776-1880, within western europe (france holland england) during the rise of nationalism jews were considered naturalized citizens of their respective countries & not foreign outliers, allowed to serve in army etc but had negative impact bc jews at the time began to lose their jewish identity whilst adopting goyische practices (ref. assimilation)

VI. absolutely and i fully intend on making aliyah, learning and speaking hebrew is nourishing for my soul, its an internal secret of mine that “magneto was right” u know, “does mainstreaming work?” and like, i say this not bc i believe jews should be separate (or even that jews should immigrate to israel) but in the interest of jewish protection and continuation, is mainstreaming going to contribute to jewish protection and continuation? mainstreaming needs to include existence. u cant mainstream two groups if one group is only accepted when they dont exist as themselves. “jews and gentiles can exist together! but u better show up to work on yom kippur.” jews deserve self-determination and to have the opportunity to live in their homeland which is the only safe place on earth for jews to publicly and fully express their judaism, to go to a school where they can safely and publicly express their judaism, to go to a synagogue where they can safely and publicly express their judaism, to go to a job where they can safely and publicly express their judaism. u tell me where that is, is it where u live? thats the downfall of mainstreaming, bc sure jews can assimilate but what u see is that ppl who arent jews will only interact with them if they renounce their judaism. sure u want to say jews and goyim living side by side respecting one anothers practices is the ideal, absolutely im "pro mainstreaming" for those ideals, but be practical! that shit aint never gonna happen, dont sacrifice yourself and ur family and ur friends for an academic concept that has never manifested itself in reality

VII. the advent of secularism! secularism is super appealing. movies! tv! books! music. mixed dancing as it were. all the things considered heretical bc they could curse g-d, but appealing on a neurological level. who doesnt wanna sit down and binge drop dead diva for 9 hours, its not me buds. so ofc many orthodox peeps would be drawn to it, but in the interest of maintaining their practices and beliefs, new movements would necessarily sprout up in response

VIII. assimilation occurred bc the advent of secularism drew alot of observant jews away from their practices and subsequently their identities, it was more appealing to be a citizen (a "german" not a "jew") bc it afforded them rights and privileges and goys would interact w them on an equal level, as long as they didnt express being jewish too much, or used their jewishness in a self-deprecating kind of way (alot of jewish comics got famous like this, ppl love listening to jews self-deprecate and in a downward shifting economy u gotta get it where u can get it)

IX. the differences between halacha in orthodox judaism and reform judaism? oh boy well today, because reform judaism looked totally different in the 1800s guys (most american jews were reform, which is why american jewish culture was so radically separate from european jewish culture and far more secular), but at the core orthodoxy believes halacha as it was written and interpreted (and as it continues to be interpreted and debated) is binding, no ifs ands or buts. u can find reasons why things can and cant be done but its always within the established halacha. reform judaism doesnt consider halacha binding but essentially “refers” to it as they develop their individual practices (”im a woman but im not gonna cover my hair if i get married bc blah blah blah” might be a reform opinion, its deciding not to follow the law, but its still referencing the law) and is exponentially more concerned with the idea of jewish peoplehood, identity, nationality, history, outside the world of torah. (yes? no? this is all shit i was spoonfed by 1 guy so like?)

X. im writing a fucken essay on this man. need to chill out and condense. get my opinions in order. orthodoxy is appealing bc most ppl will believe the same shit u do and put the same weight on it, conservatism is more pluralistic/individualistic, definitely more secular, even tho i wholeheartedly agree with this & practice it in my life, the art of letting people do their own shit without judging them, the art of welcoming ppl into ur space despite their diverging belief systems, just: sometimes u can feel kind of silly when u know ppl probably dont take as literal interpretations as u do. strengths of reform individualism, pluralism, activism, diversity, influx of new opinions/thoughts, ppl talk to me about this i know very little about reform judaism dont get mad at me pls. weaknesses uhhhhhh lol am i gonna go there on tumblr.com 2day... weaknesses i guess would be that its not taken as seriously by outsiders? is that acceptable/right?

endin here for now!

#op #orthodox #reform #conservative judaism #conversion #judaism #theology #israel #zionism

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orpheus-type-beat · 5 years

Text

Hadestown

First off Hadestown was phenomenal. I legit almost cried at the end; even though I knew there wouldn’t be a happy ending, the musical did such a good job of creating and then destroying hope for the characters. It was probably the most religious experience I’ve ever had doing laundry, so props to that.

All of the songs were bangers, and the casting of the voices was really well done. Orpheus makes sense as a pretty boy with a gorgeous falsetto, Persephone sounds world-weary but has the capacity to harken back to a time of youth and innocence, and Hades sounds menacing without totally getting lost in the maniacal villain thing (except for the part where he yelled about the electric chorus that was a little much).

I love how this version made explicit the parallels between Hades/Persephone and Orpheus/Eurydice, and also how this version gave both women way more depth. This not only fleshes the story out and makes it feel a lot less misogynistic, it also just makes the story better. In the original story, Orpheus was just a stupid musical fuckboy who couldn’t follow orders for more than two minutes. Whereas in this version, while I was still like “why would you look around?” his doubt makes so much more sense. She left him once before, and so its natural and human for him to doubt her loyalty now.

At the same time, Orpheus turning around is extra tragic for Eurydice, who left him because of his inability to provide for her. We get the impression that Eurydice, who was doing all of the hard work, felt neglected materially but also emotionally — he was more focused on music than her. By coming to save her, he proves his love, but his inability to do the hard thing and not look back proves that he hasn’t really matured. The same impulse that led him to neglect food and shelter for his music also preventing him from following Hades’ instructions. So really they couldn’t be together, even if Eurydice had escaped — nothing had changed, they were caught in a cycle.

That cyclic feeling to this story is obviously thematically in conversion with Hades and Persephone, which is so cool and deepens the story. It also redeems the musical as a musical. From experience, it’s hard to practice and perform a musical over and over again if there is no sense of redemption at all, and if you don’t fundamentally enjoy the story, the characters, and the themes. The closing song, with Hermes talking about how it’s the same song, and we sing it over and over again, hoping it’ll change even though we know it won’t, is conversation not just with the nature of myth and storytelling, but also the nature of performance.

Myth and stories are told over and over again, and what Hadestown does it what all good retelling of myth do — they make the same story feel alive and vital again. I knew there wouldn’t be a happy ending, but I felt the tragedy as is if it could have ended another way. That ability to imagine what could have been is, according to Hermes, Orpheus’ true gift. Orpheus is generally just a metaphor for all artists, so it’s kind of also a statement about all art.

What makes this link compelling is the fact that, for the performers in the musical, the have to literally tell this story over and over again, and in order to make each performance good that have to basically trick themselves into thinking it could end differently. That’s just what performing is, being able to replay these emotional beats over and over again and keep them fresh. So Hermes, who addresses the audience and is a really cool meta-textual character (which is stylistically very resonant with the way that ancient Greek poems started with 4th wall breaking invocations to the muses), is also making a commentary about the play itself. The fact that this is a performance is called out, but rather than weakening the story is strengthens it — it calls attention to how this story is an eternal loop of hope and pain, just like the seasons are eternal. So it explains the purpose of the musical in the same way these myths were explained in the past — they both do explanatory work about the world, and the cyclic nature of the seasons, and of love and loss. It’s just more abstract than literal explanatory work (which is probably more accurate to the ancient view of myth, honestly, than an overly literal one).

Hadestown also does what ancient myths did, which is reify abstract concepts in a way that makes reasoning about these concepts easier. Hadestown plays up Hades’ relationship with wealth, and so to me a lot of this reads as an interesting critic of capitalism in the face of environmental destruction. Hades’ constant industrial expansion is destroying his relationship with Persephone, who is emblematic of the natural world. The moments of beauty in this play are all related to nature and the natural — most poignantly, the description of Hades coming to the Persephone in “her mother’s garden,” and sleeping with her (which is an incredible finesse, mixing Christian and Greek spirituality pretty flawless and concisely, wow). A parable about success destroying a marriage that started beautifully is a perfect metaphor for the destruction of the planet by human beings that are uniquely situated to enjoy and appreciate its beauty. That’s the kind of thing that myth is excellent at, casting abstract struggles in personal terms that make those abstract struggles real.

Also, the whole wall thing is even more effective today than in 2016, and like makes the whole Hades=capitalism even more interesting and powerful

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archived--hell · 6 years

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1, 2, 17, honestly all of them if you’re up to it

1 - already answered

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

L O R D T jupiter fuck man got damn id die for jupiter

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

i have adopted characters before, but ive never done anything with them, and i have received characters Back from people but besides that nah

4. A character you rarely talk about?

HI PLEASE I BEG OF YOU ASK ABOUT THE GODS PLE AS E IM DYING

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

fuck uh.. honestly if its only semi popular would i do this bc being Well Known would be nice, yeah, but.. it scares me? idk but uh probably leo or aero, theyre two boys i hold close to my heart

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

:) eldur and leo kinda? idk i try not to make any of them look alike rip

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

YES! theyre actually all part of one universe called cooking with demons! i have a whole game planned out for the man cast kinda? but all in all its all set within one universe, with multiple different stories occurring within it jhfdksg

8 - already answered

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?

unless specfifically made for them upon request, no. ive already tried that once and it lead to me losing any and all control i had over my characters. At this moment, i only “share” a few ocs with my boyfriend @coffee-burglar and even then, its taken almost a year to even be able to do that

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

uh, all of them are kinda complicated for me, but as of right now, that would go to leos full form. (if u want a ref hmu and ill post it, but it wont be my art)

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

like a ray of sunshine? yeah! angel and stitch would fit perfectly for that!

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot

@coffee-burglar their oc chrome n koh, or derek but thats bc im a hoe

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs?

aero, jhor, innis, leo are all trouble makers to some degree, leo being the most trouble some

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

uhhhh fuck what counts as tragic?

i guess id have to say leo or jupiter mostly, but eldur fits too

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?

if youd let me i would yell about these fucks for hours on end, ive done it

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

the best but wouldnt enjoy it: Jupiterthe best and would absolutely enjoy it: colby

17. Any OC OTPs?

stitch/lavaaero/kohcolby/derek/inniswill/happiness aeyr/Eberictderek/Xhaztolleo/eldur

18. Any OC crackships?

jhfkdfsjghdfkjhgdkfjsgl i never talk abt it but will/aero is fucking A+

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

ah,, leo. i originally made him to project the worst in myself onto, and because of that ive made his life a living shit hole. but,, recently ive been hell bent on giving him a good ending, one where he heals, and lives his life ok, where he finally, finally has a chance to be happy and get help. its,, kind of been a tiny growing point for me? he just, means a lot to me because of that haha

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

uhhh all of their voice claims are songs n such but only a few of them actually sing in canon! heres the voice claims of the ones who do sing:

Aero - thats his voice, but hed probably more likely to sing Something Like ThisAngelStitch - this is her voice! but shed be much more likely to sing something a lot more upbeat, kind of like thisColby (its jeremy from bmc jghfdkg)

and one i dont have a voice claim for yet that does sing canonically is Sycamore!

21. Your most artistic OC

!!!! oh thatd easily be will! hes nothing professional at all, but he does enjoy drawing and making diy type projects :0c hazels also artistic but with food :0c but what would you expect from a kitchen witch

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Hi My Names Skinny Penis And No One Has Ever Even Looked At My Ocs For More Than Two Seconds

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

lordt all of them would fit that, but the one thats changed the most? lordy thatd probably be will! he used to be a persona that was mostly only interested in dying and getting fucked, but now hes? evolved into a fully fledged character, and has even changed from being human lmao

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

jupiter, simply because he is The Biggest Comfort i have. hes,,, really important to me and i love him a lot

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)

:) its bold of you to assume they dont all resemble me in some way. the most though? damian. lazy motherfucker with 200 emotional issues and no motivation to fix any of them

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will?

…yeah.

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?

Nope, most tend to be born from ideas spawned by me n my bf concepting about my ocs, and what would happen if this thing happened? yknow?

28. Your most dangerous OC?

He has yet to be revealed >:)c his names icarus

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they’re going?

INNIS, GOD INNIS WOULD AND HED PROBABLY DIE

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection?

secret: damiannot so secret: colby

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)

uHHhhHh

damian would probably have a very shitty coded blog theme (or default) and would genuinely only reblog shitty, abstract memes, and nice food recipes for hazel to make him

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

protagonist? if youre going for the scared baby, colby. if ur going for the stoic “thats weird but ok” one, innis or aero.antagonist tho???? Leo and angelica :)

33. Your shyest OC?

uh, a oc thats genuinely shy and not just anxiety filled? angel :0c shes had a very limited interaction pool with anything thats not other angels so she tends to shy away from others bc she really, really doesnt want to get into awkward situations

34. Do you have any twin characters?

Jupiter and leo!

35. Any sibling characters?

Jupiter, leo, angelica, damian, eldur

jupiter, leo, damian, and angelica are all related via their dad, while eldur is related to damian via their mom

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)?

uhh if im understanding this question right yeah i do! derek, koh, n a lot of others belong to @coffee-burglar ! ive just roped them into my universe dkjfhkdjgh

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human

Op All Of My Characters Are Inhuman

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?

surprisingly? aero! hes got really good rhythm and can actually dance really well, its kinda scary

39. Introduce any character you want

:)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Ill let yall have a choice, pick one

1.) Lust2.) Greed

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

fond?? uh,, not really. but damian does have a very important memory attached to him.

tw for suicide ment hjgkdfs

with damian, i created him after i tried to kill myself and was stuck in a mental hospital. i had just finished reaing the first shadowhunters book, and decided to try and draw the first demon(???? was that what he was?? im a dumbass and its been over 2 years) you met, which had bright blue hair and if i remember correctly, electric green eyes? but yeah. i made him to cope with all the mental stress i had while being forced to be in that hospital, and hes become very close to my heart because of that

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)

!!!!!!!!! yeah!!! my boyfriends drawn damian and most of my characters bgjkfdhgkfdsgl but one i do hold close to my heart (bc at the time, i barely knew them) was when @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone drew aeyr! it made me really happy tbh. i still have it saved to my phone actually!!!

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods?

uhhhh,,, provided that they found a way to get anything involving earth and their beliefs itd probably be either angel or colby. angel enjoys learning anything and everything she can, while colby enjoys hearing about the Tea™ that comes with greek shit

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confess

lordt ok

i really just? enjoy making demons really, or anything that doesnt quite fit “conveniently attractive” in at least one form they have. (i also favor making guys bc im Gay)

44. Something you like about your OCs in general

how well theyre coming together, for so long, their stories have been little fractures and pieces that never fit together. Fragments. but now, theyre almost fully put together and its… wonderful to see

45. A character you no longer use?

a hi have.. one. their name was angel aura, a steven universe oc. i got rid of them because of too many.. bad things.

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?

not directly, but yes. it.. actually helped me give a lot of them a ok life, or at least a good ending

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child?

@coffee-burglar eldur, colby, will n a few others lmao

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

ELDUR GOD ELDUR PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE THIS KID BACK TO HIS MOM

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes

damian

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

ghjkfgkfdhgklfjhglkjdfhgslfjdgh give me a actual thing to talk about bc im dying op

#general oc tag #Anonymous

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coalitiongirl · 7 years

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ive been watching your scenes to rewatch and ive been crying at literally all of them. out of curoisity, what are your favourite ouat scenes? either sq or general? also side note, i love your latest fic, such an interesting premise. i get so scared every time someone says an order and emmas forced to comply, that scene with the trolls had me on edge. and the fact that cora must suspect something about emma now - im so scared but excited ahah :D have a nice day :)

OH I super dropped the ball on those omg, i have so many others!! but i haven’t been able to rewatch in a long time, it hard 😩

of course i LOVE almost every swan queen scene!! it’s hard for me to pick favorites because nearly every one pings something else inside me omfg. I don’t think there’s a single sq scene I couldn’t write an essay about WHOOPS. so lemme try to answer this with just some of my favorite non-sq scenes 😅

Emma in True North: hoo boy, this is probably in my scenes to rewatch but that scene on the road, MAN. there’s so much careful buildup with emma’s abandonment issues and how much she sees herself in nick and ava. and they have a chance she never does and dammit, she fights for them!! she fights for two kids just like her and they get their moment and jmo turns that realization into agony with sheer artistry in emma’s FACE in their final moment. god.

Regina in We Are Both: this was the episode that sold me on Regina! tbh i’d marathoned s1 as soon as they announced mulan was going to be in s2 so i hadn’t been focusing much on thinking before that?? and then suddenly there’s Regina, in all her rich and layered stories, and i fell hARD. the whole narrative of the episode- Regina resisting parental abuse until she becomes what she’s always feared to be free!! and that translating into her saying ‘no, this isn’t going to continue to the next generation. even if i lose the only thing that matters to me.’ do u ever stan!!! I DONT KNOW HOW TO LOVE VERY WELL. END ME.

Emma in Firebird: listen. never follow ur idols to ur next fandom or you’ll suddenly realize they actually hate women and then get ‘’’muted’’’ for ‘’’yelling at her too much’’’ but jane espenson did a GOOD with the flashbacks in this one (present day still literal and figurative hell tho!!). The concept of Emma’s jacket as armor isn’t an original one, but the execution was honestly stellar. Emma forging this connection with an older hardened woman who can’t let go of the past either!! emma destroyed and remade into the lady we met on her twenty-eighth birthday. GOD. SHE FINDS HER DAUGHTER. and i gotta say, the vulnerable-tearful-young thing jmo was doing w emma in s5 didn’t work for me in terms of what present day was trying to convey, but it’s a perfect fit for that flashback, i WEPT.

Regina in Quite A Common Fairy: Lana OWNS the cave scene with Tink, god. The depth and breadth of emoTION. The episode and the narrative itself builds it up from episode one! because this regina on the road to redemption but finally giving us a glimpse into the emotional and mental state she was in as the young queen- she has all this rage and she’s SUSTAINED by it, it’s her only real truth and constant and she’s terrified of what might happen if she lets it go for even an instant and chooses hope instead. (Lana’s voice when Regina says she’s afraid that without rage she might just ‘—float away’ is something that has stayed with me for a long, long time.) REGINA PULLING OUT HER HEART TO MAKE A POINT. far from the last time she will, but how affecting!! god!!

Emma and Snow in S1: There are a few moments i’m thinking of (and i’m literally writing this on the treadmill so pls forgive the lack of episode names) and all of them are so stellar, god. The moment when Snow finds Emma living out of her car early on. Snow and Emma sitting at the table at the loft holding hands. Emma lying down next to a crying Snow. Snow yelling at Emma for being so selfish when she tries running off with Henry?? EMMA SHOWING UP AT MARY MARGARET’S DOOR SEARCHING FOR A ~PERSON~ AND MARY MARGARET SILENTLY LETTING HER IN. Snow and Emma work best in S1 in the silences and the fights, where they’re allowed to just care and be family, and I treasure each of those moments as much as they do.

Regina and Zelena in the Kansas: There’s a lot of effort put into this dynamic right near what seemed like the end, playing with how exactly Zelena perceives her happy ending to go- and then Regina strikes it all down by being different, by changing, by being someone Zelena hadn’t believed either of them capable of. And then Regina goes to Zelena’s cell and offers her!! sisterhood!! my god. i instantly fell in love with the dynamic in that moment and i’m forever pressed that the ‘it’s nice to have family in town’ line was cut. because you can tell that regina craves family and craves unmaking this second monster of her mother’s and zelena was going to TAKE that second chance and hey! this seems the perfect time to go off-message and

Belle in Family Business and Heroes and Villains: imma be honest, i like belle just fine in the early seasons but i have zero interest in rumbelle, which means a lot of fast-forwarding through her scenes. But these two scenes were ENCHANTING. Mirror Belle preying on Belle with the truth that she’s afraid to face! Emilie does such a fantastic job conveying so much cruelty in that scene, I was gaping and enthralled and hoping shattered sight was going to work exactly like that (and tbh props to ginny for doing a hella creepy snow at the start of Shattered Sight). And that town line scene!!! What a stunning, evocative scene. Belle reclaiming agency and taking action in such a 100% cold-blooded but necessary way!! that’s my ravenclaw babe!!!

Mulan and Aurora: I was young, and I Believed, and I Believed for a very long time. I am appalled at my naïveté too, don’t worry.

Regina in Enter the Dragon: LOOK it’s not about the leather but it’s a lil about the leather!!! I really appreciate both Regina in the past and present in this one and also how gay it is, and I’m most charmed by lil evil pep talking nugget Regina who just wants you to be the very best villain you can be! It’s such an artful melding of the exuberance of young!Regina and the delight in chaos of eq!Regina and i, for one, am a fan.

Emma (and Henry) in The Stranger/An Apple Red as Blood: my gOD. Okay I think one of the first times I cried while watching this show was in Emma’s desperate, hysterical denial to August about the curse. She’s so clearly hit rock bottom and she’s TERRIFIED of believing and it’s breaking her. SHE DIDNT ASK TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYONES HAPPINESS. SHE DOESNT WANT IT. THAT IS CRAP!!!! i love her!! i love emma swan!!! i do!!!!! and then moving into the end of the next episode when she tells henry she’s leaving and just!! ‘henry! life isn’t a story!’ man this show had some incredible early work. sigh. emma kneeling in front of henry begging him to listen! my god.

Regina in the Cricket Game: so i’m leaving out all my fave sq moments which severely limits the number of regina and emma scenes i can talk about here but the flashbacks in this one SURE ARE SOMETHING. regina has hit rock bottom in this set and you feel it in every moment, in her REGRET THAT I HAVE NOT CAUSED MORE PAIN and frickin stABBING snow and that dark scene with the candle oh god. this is a regina who doesn’t think about looking back anymore but who doesn’t think about looking forward, either, and she’s terrifying. it reminds me a lot of the scene later this season in Welcome to Storybrooke where she takes out snow’s heart and ‘see? i can have everything’ but there are tears sliding down her face. regina in enraged despair is something to behold!!

Henry (and Emma and Regina) in Operation Mongoose: Henry doesn’t often get lengthy times to shine that aren’t about other characters, but he was literally a YA hero in the author’s universe! man! what a kid! and his scenes with bandit Regina are some of my all-time favorites, as is that heartstopping moment when he reaches the top of that tower and flings the door open and Emma KNOWS him. reader, i wept. i wept hard. talk about your earned moments!!!

Emma as Dark Swan: posture! clothing! positioning! voice work! dark swan was a revelation i’m still rightfully bitter about, because she was EVERYTHING in those early episodes. the way she caressed snow’s face in first episode of 5a. the faux-innocent with the calculating eyes on the ship with whats-his-name. every interaction with henry where she was trying to be a PERSON. the way she moved! the way she felt more reptilian than human! i wanted to know everything about her!! (then i did and quit the show lol) honestly some of jmo’s best acting to date, i’m forever in awe.

That Still Small Voice: look, this is an episode about a cricket and it remains one of my favorite quality ouat episodes. Archie sells it best as an adult influenced by his past without quite knowing it, and Archie and Henry make for a really engaging dynamic in here. There is nothing about Archie’s professional behavior that doesn’t make me want to scream but this remains a very, very good episode.

Emma in Sympathy for the De Vil/Lily: okay this is cheating a little because so much of this is also Regina but!! Emma individually shines in this narrative and throughout 4b. From the moment she finds out about what her parents had done, you can watch it slowly draining a part of her?? yes her eyes got redder but there was also this kind of apathy about EVERYTHING. And tbh the Cruella episode is pretty awesome on its own (I love the slow revelation that Cru is the villain, what a stellar execution of a fave trope) but WHEN EMMA KILLS HER. In the exact moment that Cruella says ‘heroes don’t kill’. that’s what pushes emma over the edge!! and then emma ready to kill again the next episode because she feels like she’s sliding into an abyss, i couldn’t BREATHE. emma is incredible when the narrative lets her be angry, and i wanted So Much More. Speaking of which, Emma getting angrier and angrier and almost losing it in The Snow Queen was more of that anger!! i am HUNGRY for it.

Regina and Snow in The Evil Queen: This episode is messy af but damn did my heart skip a beat when a hooded hero saves Regina and tears off her hood and it’s SNOW. This episode does so much of what makes Snow/Regina so fascinating and frustrating, both in the present and the past. Their interactions in the woods moved me! changed me! and Regina had already crossed the point of no return but oh man, oh man, the way they’d almost gotten somewhere for a minute there.

Regina and Henry in Save Henry: A classic, a work of art, and I’ve said so much about it in the past that I’m exhausted just thinking about expressing it all again now. But what a STORY of an evil queen who falls in love with a little boy. What a narrative!! The promo pictures from this episode came out when I was sitting in the hospital for a checkup while I was expecting my daughter, and I was tearing up and the nurses thought it was about the ultrasound. I’M NOT PROUD. This is a love story!!! And it culminates again in A Curious Thing, by the way, which put another ten years on my life, an Epic !

Emma and Henry in New York City Serenade: boy was this a journey, but I was absolutely spellbound omg. This was a love song to a fantasy but it’s a fantasy that never unmakes Emma– she’s afraid of commitment and happiness and everything permanent in her life that isn’t Henry, but she’s still going to take that leap despite herself. It’s a wonderful character study that captures Emma’s essence in a new world, with a new past.

Snow in The Miller’s Daughter: Snow is at her best when the show isn’t painting her with rose-colored glasses and we get to see her darker side, and I don’t think she ever gets quite as dark in the first three seasons as she is when she’s standing there, smiling earnestly at Regina as she tells her that the key to Cora loving Regina is in the poisoned heart she holds. My god. It’s so incredibly cold-blooded and vile, and it’s absolutely the kind of manipulative pragmatism that suits Snow best. I am enthralled and horrified.

Neal and Emma and Henry and Gold in Manhattan: This is one of those really cool scenes where even though I don’t particularly care for half the characters within it, everyone acted the hell out of it and it’s so GOOD. There’s so much tension and you’re holding your breath through the squabbling, and then Henry shows up and you KNOW. You know what’s going to happen and you’re terrified for Emma and it’s so visceral, right up until the instant when Neal demands Henry’s age and Henry shouts ELEVEN and my god, my god. What a reveal. What a scene.

There are more!! so many scenes and moments i’ve loved over the years. Emma and young!Lily! Snowing in Snow Falls! Anna of Arendale!! Snow and Emma in Lost Girl!! Ruby in Red Handed! The David/Emma dragon fight in A Land Without Magic! Regina tearing out that heart in The Doctor and meeting Daniel again?? Regina and her father in hell. all of Hat Trick. i think twenty is a good place to stop, but hoo boy, when this show was good, it was GOOD. alas.

#ouat #Anonymous

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