#but i'm glad she was there to take david down a notch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

explosionshark · 10 months

Note

Okay as promised here's my more thoughts to follow in the Buffy update, A+ series had a great time. "Innocence", "Passion", "I Only Have Eyes For You" and "Becoming" so great, Buffy gets so much good everything for all the big Angel fallout Sarah Michelle Gellar is just always nailing it. Also actually warmed up to Cordyxander wasn't expecting that. Gonna admit wasn't super into Spike at first but I'll tell you into the second half once he was in the wheelchair loved that guy, dunno just wasn't really buying the hype they tried but after taking him down a few notches my kinda guy. RIP Jenny but she got a lot of great stuff loved her, RIP Kendra kinda wish she'd got a bit more for her death. Also I remember back in What's My Line I thought oh a cop who just starts blasting in a school of course she's an assassin but then they do the same thing in Becoming just as regular cops incredible. Also wow they went real hard on the queer coding with Buffy coming out to Joyce in Becoming (this was also a great scene), also a hard unsympathetic turn for Joyce especially in 3x01 with her blaming Giles for Buffy following Joyce's ultimatum, wasn't expecting it so much. Giles also, lotta great stuff, shocker Anthony Stewart Head does good work I know but he was so good in Passion and I Only Have Eyes For You. I didn't think I'd get so into the whole AngelxBuffy romance considering y'know I already knew how it goes but nah its still real good even with that foreknowledge. Also shout out to Willow just having to double as a teacher for the latter half of the series since Jenny died incredible stuff, and good for her getting into the witch phase which is what I mostly knew about her from second hand knowledge, besides that finding out she was gay in the evil mirror verse was part of how she found out she was gay herself.

Also I forgot about that joke about how David Boreanaz can't do an Irish accent and man he can really not do an Irish accent, I remember an episode of Angel where his pre Vampire memories took over or something and they just had him do the American accent, shout out also to Angel being dead and still in the opening credits for series 3 (I've watched one episode so far) really selling me that he's dead forever guys. Also gotta say despite I Only Have Eyes For You being real good, kinda sketchy the whole I dunno if the student being in a relationship with his teacher was handled particularly well. Like I get it yeah for the comparison between Angel and Buffy but directly bringing that in makes that a bit sketch as well, like I'm not gonna complain about age differences with vampire/human romances because its a staple, you can't get away from it they're vampires but if you're directly bringing in the comparisons y'know.

Also glad you mostly enjoyed the song recs, I've been listening to Rise Against since you said The Weight of my Pride is like them meets Fightstar (who I will also get to but I am incapable of checking out music in a way that isn't listening to they're entire discography in a row before trying out another one), they're so good I haven't clicked this hard with a band since I got into Dio and REO Speedwagon, its just banger after banger.

Also gonna go read HerInsectReflections' essays on series 2 like you recced. Will read your Common Ground fic when I get to around about Faith's heel turn I think.

Final last second thought the theme song seems a bit different for series 3? Dunno if I like it as much I'm sure it'll grow on me

Yeah! Definitely read the @herinsectreflection essays, they're really incredible. In particular I think you might enjoy skipping straight to the one she wrote for "I Only Have Eyes for You" since I think it does a really good job dissecting and contextualizing the teacher/student and age gap stuff in that episode while still acknowledging what sucks about it.

I know I've said before that my favorite episodes of Buffy are the ones that are really about other episodes of Buffy but I really mean it and I think you probably know exactly what I mean about that by now. As such, I'm really excited for you to get further into s3 and start getting to the Faith stuff. Very enmeshed with the Angel/Angelus arc.

Anyway fully agree re: Kendra. The show really did her dirty. It's got to be acknowledge that the one way Buffy fails egregiously and repeatedly throughout all 7 seasons in with race. Characters of color and black characters in particular are rarely seen, usually only fulfilling temporary roles, lack the depth and interiority of white characters and are usually victims of some sort of stereotyping. It's a bummer and I wish I could say it gets better but it really doesn't. Huge L!

Re: Spike - honestly yeah, for me he's best when he's kinda just being the buttmonkey.

I think the season 3 theme might be where they ditch the scream? I prefer the scream tbh. But when I watch with my best friend she does it for me, which is very sweet.

Thanks for checking in again! Love your updates! Glad you're having a good time!

#replies #Anonymous

4 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

I'm glad you're taking prompts because i just saw this on twitter "Colin said Killian would want to teach Hope how to sail and fight and he would do normal family stuff with her and Emma like take them fishing, build sandcastles together, read books, etc" so, i would love if could write a fic with Emma and Killian having domestic moments with Hope with maybe some things that, you know, Emma and Killian playing with Hope at their house or the beach and telling her a story while she's ready (+)

Prompt based on something Colin said a few weeks ago “I would think that they are just trying to be a family, where they’re not having to battle something constantly. Where [Emma and Hook] can actually spend time trying to raise their daughter, and stuff like that. I’d like to think they go fishing, maybe? And build sandcastles. Read books. Normal family stuff.”

She looks most like Emma.

She has blonde curls, though they’re a little darker than his wife’s, almost a chestnut blonde compared to the gold of Emma’s. Her eyes are blue, but if he looks in the sunlight, there are small flecks of green around the irises. Her eyes are beautiful in color, but they’re even better with all of the love and adventure that reside inside. He thinks that’s what reminds him most of Emma. It’s the way that every one of Hope’s emotions and thoughts are reflected through her eyes, like she’s an open book that’s still being written.

In most ways, she is.

His daughter is only four, but to him, she may as well be forty. She’s a brilliant little spitfire who keeps him on his toes every minute of every day. He sees her grow daily, from the way her appearance changes to the way that her vocabulary evolves. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t quite believe he has this little person in his life that’s a product of he and Emma’s True Love.

He actually can’t quite believe that he has two products of he and Emma’s True Love in Hope and Oliver, his son who looks infinitely more like him than he does Emma in his infant state. And then he’s got Henry, and while he may not be a product of he and Emma, he’s every bit his child as the two who live under his roof. For centuries he was alone, wanting nothing more than revenge, his heart full of hatred fighting against the love, but he’s now got this life with little room for hatred other than for those who try to harm his family. Gods, it’s a life better than he could ever imagine.

“A green dog on a yellow tree,” Emma reads to Hope, her voice high and lilting while Hope watches her with rapt attention and Oliver babbles against his chest, his arms folded into himself while a drool spot forms on the gray of his tee shirt. “Some big dogs and some little dogs going around in cars.”

“Mommy, dogs can’t drive cars.”

“They can if they have a driver’s license, bug,” he adds in from his position at the doorway, and Hope and Emma both look up at him with identical expressions of frustration and amusement.

“Daddy is being silly, baby,” Emma soothes, brushing Hope’s hair off of her head and urging her to lay back down in her bed. “But, you know, lots of magical things happen here. Maybe one day Pongo is going to drive around the street’s in Archie’s car.”

“Well, look who’s being silly now?”

Emma sticks her tongue out at him before her eyes go wide, and she realizes her mistake and claps her hand over her mouth. He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at Emma’s look of horror and Hope’s look of agitation. They’ve been telling her for weeks now not to stick her tongue out at people, and there goes her mum doing that very thing.

After they resolve the tongue situation, which honestly sounds more like a dirty joke than a conversation with his toddler, and get Hope to bed, Emma feeds Oliver before putting him down to bed so that the two of them can crawl into bed, stripping out of the clothes and letting them fall to the floor along with his brace. He’s exhausted, but he’s rarely too exhausted to make love to his wife, letting Emma move above him until they both fall apart and fall into slumber.

It’s Saturday the next morning, and while he and Emma are both on call, he doesn’t expect there to be any trouble or issues today. For so long they had no peace. Hell, they couldn’t even get married without him losing everything that’s ever mattered to him. But now it’s peaceful more often than not, and he and Emma are able to lounge around on Saturday mornings until they’re woken up by kids and have to do things like feed them and change diapers or get them dressed, which is always a task with Hope.

He just recently learned how to braid hair. He’d wanted to for Emma, knowing how she enjoys wearing her hair that way as well as enjoying how he runs his fingers through her hair, especially around the nape of her neck, but she has so much bloody hair that it’s difficult for him to do with just his hand. He figured it out, is actually quite adept at it now, and he’s transferred his knowledge of braiding Emma’s hair to braiding Hope’s hair. She’s rather particular about it, too, telling him when it looks funny or he’s missed a spot, so he knows that he has to do a top notch job for his biggest critic.

So that’s what he’s doing now, braiding Hope’s curls into two braids while Emma smothers Oliver with infant sunscreen and dresses him in a pair of the smallest swim trunks Killian has ever seen. They’ve got little green anchors on them that look like some kind of child-like version of the tattoo he has on his hip. He and his lad match, and he’s almost positive Emma bought the trunks for that very reason. Hope, meanwhile, picked out her own swimming attire, insistent that she get the Minnie Mouse set when they went to Target just outside of town last week.

It doesn’t matter how long he’s lived in this realm, how much he’s adapted to modern technology, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to having places like Target and Costco for all of his needs and more. Gods, he and Emma practically lived there when she was pregnant and they were helping to buy Henry things for his new apartment as well as preparing to have a baby.

Getting to the beach takes them longer than it has any right to, pit stops needed to inspect the flowers on the side of the road or turning around and walking all the way back to the house because he forgot to bring Oliver’s hat to protect him from the sun. When they finally get there, it’s only to have to set up their stake on the sand, pitching umbrellas as children pitch fits that it’s too hot or they’re taking too long or whatever the hell that it is that Oliver’s babbles means. But once everything is finished, things seem to calm, and he’s able to take in the beauty of the ocean ahead of him, the waves rolling in onto the sand soothing him as he can practically feel the Jolly rocking beneath him even though it’s docked a few hundred feet away.

Emma offers to take Hope into the ocean while he stays with Oliver and his beach toys, and of all of the modern inventions he’s discovered, the only thing that tops heating and air conditioning has to be the bikini. Sure, lingerie is up there, but those lacy little nothings that Emma wears are just for the two of them in the privacy of their home. The bikini is something Emma can wear in public, her body practically bare to him as they sit on the beach and her skin glistens with salt water and sunshine. It’s wonderful, and it makes him having to wear swim trunks that display all of the scars and ink of his body to the world completely worth it.

“What are you doing there, lad?” he questions Oliver, knowing he can’t really answer with anything but babbles and hand gestures. “Are we building a sandcastle? Yeah? You know, grandma and grandpa used to live in a real castle? But I think this one will be better.”

He and Oliver continue to build a sandcastle, though it’s mostly him using the toys to build the shapes and Oliver smashing them down into nothing. When it’s been awhile and sweat begins to pool at his temple, he picks his boy up, sliding on his floaties and blowing them up before taking him out to the water, wading them out to Emma and Hope who are splashing around in the most shallow part of the ocean.

“Hello there, ladies,” he greets, making sure Oliver doesn’t squirm out of his grasp. “Tell me Captain Hope, how is the water today?”

“Cold and wavy.”

She splashes the water around before moving her small arm in the motion of a wave, soft circles ending in a large splash that coats all of them in salt.

“What about salty? Is it salty? I bet it tastes salty.”

“Daddy, you’re not supposed to drink the ocean water. It’s not good.”

Hope scrunches up her nose, something that’s just like Emma, and he nods in agreement before walking over to Emma and pressing a kiss against her lips, salt falling onto his lips as the smell of her sunscreen invades his senses.

“It tastes like mommy’s been drinking the ocean water.”

“Ewww,” Hope cries, swimming over to him and crawling up his left arm so that he has to hand Oliver over to Emma. His daughter is so bony, her bones hitting against him until she’s situated on his shoulders and he’s holding her there with his forearms while her ankles kick against his chest, hitting right over the white swan tattoo that has above his heart.

They wade out in the water until the kids get tired and they head back to shore and rest against the towels. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. His children are never happy doing one thing for too long, and so he never expects to stay in one place for a long time, unless that place is David and Mary Margaret’s with all of their animals and sweet foods. By the time it’s one in the afternoon, the sun beating down on them in the middle of the sky, they pack their bags up, their things somehow expanding, and make their way home.

The kids fall asleep immediately, Hope stretching out on the couch while Oliver rests against Emma’s chest as she begins to snooze in the recliner, every one of them in nothing more than their underwear after changing out of their swimming clothes.

He settles down onto the couch, resting his head against the back of the couch and enjoying this quiet moment that’s filled with the various sounds of his family breathing and the music still playing from the bedroom. Emma’s always forgetting to turn the damn radio off.

He’s spent his entire life at sea. Most of it was a bloody nightmare from which he couldn’t escape, but he learned to count the rocking of a ship on waves and the smell of salt water as a friend and as a home. It was his first love, and while he still takes the Jolly out sailing at least once a week and plans on teaching his children how to do the same, the sea isn’t his home anymore.

His home is this place, these walls and everyone who resides inside of it.

Henry, Hope, Oliver, Emma.

Every one of them is his love, and while he used to not sleep for fear of something awful happening, now he likes to keep his eyes open simply so he can take all of this in.

#cs prompt #cs fic cs ff

68 notes · View notes