Philogelos (The Laughter Lover) is a collection of some 265 jokes, likely made in the fourth or fifth century CE. Some manuscripts give the names of the compilers as the otherwise-unknown Hierocles and Philagrios. Other manuscripts drop the name of one or other or both.
-An intellectual checked in on the parents of a dead classmate. The father was wailing: “O son, you have left me a cripple!” The mother was crying: “O son, you have taken the light from my eyes!” Later, the intellectual suggested to his friends: “If he were guilty of all that, he should have been cremated while still alive.”
-A man, just back from a trip abroad, went to an incompetent fortune-teller. He asked about his family, and the fortune-teller replied: “Everyone is fine, especially your father.” When the man objected that his father had been dead for ten years, the reply came: “You have no clue who your real father is.”
-An incompetent astrologer cast a boy’s horoscope and said: “He will be a lawyer, then a city-official, then a governor.” But when this child died, the mother confronted the astrologer: “He’s dead – the one you said was going to be a lawyer and an official and a governor.” “By his holy memory,” he replied, “if he had lived, he would have been all of those things!”
Ian is a guy who feels like he wants to be able to have control over his situation and not be reliant on anybody else…And then all of a sudden, when you feel like you’re not in control over your own mind, that’s about as helpless as you can get […] because Ian doesn’t want to be saved. He wants to be able to save himself. [x]
Summary: Set after Emma loses Killian, those she loves come to her aid to break her out of her depression, some with more success than others.
Rated A for angsty angst. (sorry no smut here folks!) (Alright well shit is not cooperating and I can’t put this under a read more so just deal with it I guess, I’m tired, I work like 35 hours a week)
“Fuuuuuuuccccckkkkk!” Emma screamed into the pillow in a fit
of uncontrollable sobs, her hands closing into fists. “No-o-o-o-o-o.” She wailed,
her entire body trembling with the force of her cries.
The days blurred together. Time was meaningless. A never
ending void of nothingness with which she was drowning.
She felt numb. Lifeless. Without him, life had no meaning, food had no taste, her thoughts no
purpose. Everything was different without him.
Dull. The world once seen in vibrant color, now restored to a dingy black and
white with which she saw the world before him.
The world carried on around her as if he never existed and she was stuck right
in the middle, screaming at the top of her lungs for release.
She slept for days on end, awoken from her endless dreams of
him (them together) by her worried
parents, son, and friends, her eyes still blood shot from hours upon hours of
Mary Margaret leaned down beside the sofa, stroking a few
stray hairs from her daughters face with her thumb, a hopeful smile on her
Emma stirred awake with the motion, her eyes half lidded and
achy, “Was it a dream?” She asked, her voice low and devoid of any sort of
Mary Margaret faltered, opening and closing her mouth unable
to conjure any useful words of comfort. Instead she pursed her lips and shook
her head to confirm the inevitable.
He’s not here.
Emma licked her chapped lips and titled her chin in
understanding before closing her eyes once more.
Mary Margaret released a few unbidden tears from her eyes,
helplessness filling her like a disease.
The next visit was her son in hopes that he might be able to
get through to Emma.
“Mom?” He stammered, slightly unsure of his decision to wake
“Killian.” She whispered dreamily.
“Mom.” Henry tried again, louder this time.
Emma’s eyes snapped open at the sound of her son’s concerned
voice, her gaze meeting his instantaneously.
“Henry…” She hummed weakly, acknowledging his presence.
“I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry.” He
assumed, treading carefully.
“Killian?” She wondered aloud.
“I’m sorry.” He offered, his hand moving to cover hers.
Emma closed her eyes at the contact, sob-less tears falling
freely down her cheeks.
The following day she was rudely awoken by bright light
streaming in through the windows, the curtains purposefully drawn back as she
was forced to greet the day.
“It’s time to wake up Miss Swan.” Regina insisted coldly,
crossing over to where Emma laid motionless on the sofa, her eyes covered by
her arm to block the sun.
“What the hell Regina?” Emma growled lowly, the threat clear
in her voice.
“It’s been three days now and it’s time for you to rejoin
“Not without him.”
She stated lifelessly.
“How long are you continue living like this?” She probed,
buttoning the single button closure on her blazer before taking a seat on the
coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Living? Is that what this
is?” She noted emotionlessly.
“Hook wouldn’t want you to do this. He would want you to
move on.” She suggested.
“His name was Killian!”
She burst out aggressively, snarling at the use of his all but retired
nickname. “You treat him as if he were still a villain Your Highness.” She spat, her lips quivering as tears ran down her
face. “He died saving us all. He’s a hero.”
“He also started this mess in the first place…” Regina
Emma gritted her teeth at the implication.
“But… yes, you are right. Hook… Killian died a hero.” She admitted. “And he wouldn’t want you
locked away mourning him instead of living your life.” She pleaded with the
“It took you years to get over Daniel. Years! Quit being a hypocrite and leave me to mourn in peace.” She
commanded, turning over on the sofa unwilling to indulge the once Evil Queen
Regina threw her hands up in defeat and stormed out,
slamming the door behind her.
He’s not coming back.
The last person to visit her was her father.
“Emma…” He sighed gravely.
“Hi Dad…” She swallowed slowly, tears in her throat.
“I’m not going to get up.” She said resolutely.
“No.” He agreed thoughtfully. “I didn’t imagine you would.”
“Then why are you here?” She wondered sternly.
“I needed some company and I thought you might be willing to
take the job.” He patted her knee lovingly.
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Good. I have a headache anyway.” He smiled in the darkness,
nudging his daughter to make room for him on the sofa.
David slipped an arm around Emma, tucking her into his
shoulder, her uneven breathing turning into quiet sobs muffled by his shoulder.
“It hurts. I miss him so much Dad.” She cried.
“I know. I do too.” He confessed, choking on his own
emotion. “I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve lost your mother
or came close to losing her.” He explained, knowing well enough that nothing he
said could take away her never ending pain.
“True love cannot be lost, death can only delay it for a
little while. In the end you will always find one another.”