#when she was ''coddling'' me about my job chances and giving me ''advice'' she said i should ignore other people and focus on myself

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

btw guys the 'friend' i had a catastrophic falling out with while i was staying with her is the person from all these posts...... yeah i should have fucking known she sucked lmao

[aeonghaseyo]

Pee girl is literally defending how adrien told marinette to ignore lila's lies, she said some shot about how bullies can change and shit, like Marinette and Adrien gave Lila multiple chances to not lie, not all bullies are going to change, some seriously never grow up, as someone who literally had a bully take away all my friends and i was left alone, it also didn't help because my autism, i had harder time making friends, i still don't really have friends.

What Pee Girl missed here, deliberately or otherwise, was that Adrien's advice on taking the high road for Marinette was only coming from someone who can't even tell if they're taken advantage of already.

It's also really insulting of her to actually be on the side of the oppressor, banking on them to change for the better, while she's there attacking the literal victim of the bullies she supports in the show just for a handful of flaws that have seemed to overtake her other good qualities as a person. I don't care if Chloe reminds her of some bully named Diamond Tiara or Lila reminds her of whatever douchebag-eventually-turned-good. What's problematic is that she's not even extending the same courtesy to Marinette, who despite her problematic behavior especially around Adrien, can ALSO potentially change for the better and just be a better her. She has CLEARER motivation to do it because she's raised well and her job as Ladybug also teaches her to be a better Marinette.

If the hate on Marinette is caused by her stalking Adrien at every turn and literally obsessing over him, what about the times when Chloe was actually too touchy with Adrien without his consent and was obviously unapologetic for it? Or how about that time Lila outright lied to him about Ladybug, or when she lied her way to get in his house but never even batted an eyelash at the prospect of Adrien, Nathalie, or Gorilla getting in trouble?

Why does she coddle Chloe "I'm rich so I always get what I want and no one else is better than me" Bourgeois and Lila "I lie so people would like me better so I can be the main character" Rossi, but hate a lot on Marinette Dupain-Cheng? If I went straight to her dm's, she would only block me as she doesn't have an opinion to give that actually makes a lot of sense.

Actually, that's all the more reason to hate Pee Girl so much, as she's only known being a bully than actually being a normal person.

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 3

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life. 

Ch 1, Ch 2, AO3 ~*CS*~

 Portland, Maine- April 17th

Emma was lost in thought as she idly tapped at the rehearsal room’s piano keys, filling the space with a jumble of unmelodic notes.  She knew she needed to take a break and eat something, like everyone else was but she couldn’t.  There was something off about their last few run throughs and she was determined to figure it out.

One thing that wasn’t off was how well Killian Jones had enmeshed himself into the group in just one week.  He had bonded with Will over growing up in England leading to inside jokes and references that had the two of them snickering away between songs.  With Tink all he’d had to do was make one praising comment about the book she was reading and it looked like he was going to be in her good graces for the rest of time.  As for her, well, the never ending verbal sparring matches were almost as fun as playing her music with him was.

They sounded good.  Of course, there were still little idiosyncrasies and timing issues that needed to be worked out but Emma knew that by the time they hit the road everything would be running smoothly.  What had been a pleasant surprise was how Killian seemed totally at ease playing second fiddle, as it were.  She had seen him play live multiple times and knew exactly what a talent he was, and also how grand a showman.

The first couple of rehearsals after he’d joined them she’d waited warily for his ego to make an appearance.  She had been certain that he would have been like too many of the men she’d met: unable to help making suggestions on how to play her own songs or offering advice she hadn’t asked for or needed.  It had happened so often in her early days of playing paid gigs that Will had taken it upon himself to run interference after she’d had enough one night and given a guy a black eye.  As the week had gone on without a single belittling comment from him in their emails, texts, or during rehearsals she’d reluctantly accepted that he actually seemed content to follow her lead and let her shine, despite her admittedly more limited skills

She idly let herself fall into the familiar chords of her song Snowdrops and Buttercups as she tried to suss out what was bothering her.  It was the ballad that she’d picked to play towards the middle of her set, meant to give the others a little rest mid-show and her the chance to highlight her piano playing.  The song was good, they were planning on releasing it mid-tour as the third single from the album but there was something a little off about it that had her coming back to it, trying to figure out why it wasn’t sounding how she wanted.  She closed her eyes and played through the chorus again and then again, trying to hear what it was she was feeling.

“Did you have lessons?”

She smiled to herself at Killian’s question, only mildly startled by his voice.  The answer was in the bio of her official website and on her Wikipedia page but it was nice to know he hadn’t researched her.  Or at least was pretending that he hadn’t.

“On and off depending on the family I was with,” she said, not pausing in her playing though she moved on from the chorus, “Didn’t exactly make me a great player but a lot of practice and YouTube helped with that.  I’ll never play Beethoven, that's for sure.  Do you play?”

“Strictly guitar for me,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I do know Chopsticks and that one song from Big.”

She laughed, stopping her playing and turned towards him, “Your party trick I’m guessing?”

“Nah, my party trick involves a pair of handcuffs and my sparkling wit.”

He waggled his brows at her causing her to snort and shake her head.  He was a flirt, it oozed out of his every pore, and the worst part was it seemed to be a default setting with him.  It only made her feel off kilter and more resolved to not let herself get caught up in it, no matter how much her teenage self was obsessing over every syllable he uttered.

“The party usually ends when the cops show up Jones, but then again I’ve never been to the same kind of parties you have,” she said with a grin.

It faded as Killian grew somber.

“Aye, I suppose you’re right.  Frightful things they are.”

With horror Emma remembered that the accident that had shattered his life into pieces had been after one of those kinds of parties.  She turned back to the piano, embarrassed and a little ashamed of herself.  After a moment’s thought she began playing what she hoped was a sufficient enough apology.

It was Killian’s turn to snort, “I’m Still Standing, love?  Bit on the nose wouldn’t you say?”

“Figured it couldn’t hurt,” she said quietly, letting her hands fall still.

Silence settled over the room like an itchy blanket.  She tried to keep from fidgeting, still feeling like she’d upset him despite his genial smile.  Unable to take the quiet even though it had only been less than a minute she began playing again, deciding to speak through the music.

“I’ve noticed you’ve got quite the repertoire of classic rock in that head of yours,” he said, seemingly impressed. “First eighties Elton John, then seventies Billy Joel?  Plus all those songs you tortured me with during my audition.  Are you an audiophile as well?  Do you have multiple copies of your favorite albums in their various forms?”

“Seems to me you’re the audiophile,” she pointed out, continuing to play. “I just happened to have worked at the diner that Ruby’s grandma owns and she refuses to put anything on the jukebox that was released later than nineteen seventy nine.  The songs are considered classics for a reason, you know.”

“I’m well aware, seeing as I’ve learned to play my fair share of them.  May I?” He motioned to the piano bench.  She nodded and slid over, “And the eighties Elton John?”

“An attempt at saying sorry for putting my foot in my mouth,” she said, giving him an apologetic look. “It’s easier to do it with a song than actually saying the words.  I am sorry though.  Didn’t think.”

“There’s no need to apologize when I took no offense, lo- er, lass-” he reached up and scratched behind his ear, “Truth is, I’d rather endure the teasing than having people continue to tiptoe around me.  Playing with a steady group of people has helped with that.”

“Well if you were expecting tact and manners from Will you were going to be disappointed from the start,” she said sardonically as she seamlessly transitioned from Billy Joel back to the song she’d been playing when he’d shown up. “And Tink isn’t much better, just a little more… cheery about it.  Plus you’re friends with Ruby so you’ve kinda hit the jackpot with people not going to coddle you or whatever.”

“And you?”

“Pft, the nicest thing anyone’s said about getting to know me is that I’m prickly but in a good way.  Ask Ruby about how long it took me to agree to go to one of the bonfire parties the popular kids at school threw.”

Killian hummed, “I wouldn’t say you’re prickly, Swan, just a bit guarded.  No fault in that.”

She stopped playing, stunned by his comment.  Truth was she didn’t have many friends outside her bandmates and a select few people back in Storybrooke.  None of them had understood her so completely or so easily.  With a little jolt of surprise she realized she already thought of him as a friend.

“So is that how you met Ruby, at her grandmother’s diner?” he continued, somehow not noticing she was having a revelation beside him.

“Uh, sort of,” she said with a little shake of her head, turning to face him, “I needed money and Granny’s was the only place willing to hire me.  It’s not exactly easy to get a job in a small town when you’re already pinned as the school troublemaker even though you’ve only been there for a month.  Ruby was in a couple of my classes and put in a good word for me.”

“Have you been playing together all this time?”  He asked, genuine curiosity lighting up his eyes.

“No-” she winced, not used to telling her life story when most people she’d met lately were already aware of it from interviews or reading it online, “I hadn’t been playing much when I got moved to Storybrooke.”

“Got moved?”

She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes, “Really?  You haven’t already read all this?”

His shoulders slumped and when he looked at her his gaze was troubled but clear, “Swan, I, more so than most, know what it’s like when people think they know everything about you because of what they’ve seen or read.  I try to avoid the fodder as much for my own sake as for others.  I’d rather learn about someone the old fashioned way: through conversation.”

“Oh-” she relaxed before tensing up again in embarrassment, “I, uh, should probably tell you that I know a lot about you from the, uh, fodder.”

To her surprise he laughed, “Not to flaunt the size of my ego but I’m not surprised.  I don’t think there’s anyone, especially in our line of business, that doesn’t know my life’s story.  Made for quite a few headlines for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing for so much more than what she already knew about his life.

“Bah-” he waved his hand in dismissal, “No need for that.  It is what it is.  So, you hadn’t been playing…”

“So, if uh, it wasn’t clear before I was a foster kid.  I was moved around a lot, mostly in Boston, a few years in the midwest.  Some of the families had pianos or a neighbor that did and a lot of times they gave lessons for extra income.  A couple of them taught me because I wanted to learn and I was considered part of the family, at least for a little while.  It was nice, learning that way, but it never lasted,” she said with a sigh, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“Best way to learn is from someone who loves doing it,” he murmured, his gaze intent.

“Yeah, well by the time I got to Storybrooke I was sixteen and hadn’t lived somewhere with a piano for almost five years.  So, of course, the group home I was placed in was run by big believers in the arts and creativity in keeping kids out of trouble.  They had all kinds of art supplies, ran a little community theater, and, surprise surprise, owned almost every instrument you could think of-” she felt herself frown and gave him a shrug, “I still don’t know how they knew but the Nolans showed me their piano the second I stepped into their house.  I thought I was only going to be there temporarily, I’d already been at three other homes in the six months before I landed there, and thought I would jinx it if I let myself get attached to playing piano again. Unfortunately while the Nolans weren’t strict about much you had to do something creative, even if it was just drawing stick figures in a composition notebook.  Which I did, by the way, for almost six months.”

Killian laughed, a rich sound that carried into his words, “Those I’d love to see.”

“Never,” she grinned, “That notebook will never see the light of day since it also has my first attempts at songwriting in it.”

“Ah,” he nodded wisely, “So after six months you finally ended up back behind the piano then?”

“Nope.  I picked up a guitar.  David, Mr. Nolan, would play almost every night after dinner and it seemed easy enough to learn.”

Emma could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.  That was only a small part of the reason she’d decided to learn how to play the guitar.  The real reason was sitting next to her, listening to her talk with rapt attention.

“It was months before Ruby found out I played and then a few more before I finally caved and started bringing a guitar to the bonfires.  By then I was back at the piano and had a few attempts at songs in that notebook.  I, uh, stopped again for a while-” she paused, not wanting to get into why exactly she’d stopped, not when it was the worst thing that had happened to her and while she had only reluctantly realized that he was becoming a friend.  She took a breath and gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile, “Ruby had picked it up by then too.  We’d play together at bonfires and picnics but she never got as serious about it as I did.  She’s the one that convinced me to try out some open mic nights.”

“And the rest is history?” He asked gently.

“More or less,” she answered, feeling much steadier. “When I finally got to the point of needing a backing band she was the first one I called.”

“And then Will and Tink?”

“Tink was brought in by the label and I’d met Will at an open mic night where he drunkenly read terrible poems about his ex and tried to steal my wallet,” she said nonchalantly, though she was glad to move onto safer topics. “I broke his nose and he found me the next day wondering if I was interested in a drum player.”

“In a personal or a professional manner?” Killian asked with a raised brow.

“Ew, as if I’d ever want to sleep with Will.  Gross,” she said with a scrunched nose. “He’d seen me at other mic nights and figured I’d be going places and wanted to get in on it.  He was the second person I called.  From there the rest is history.”

“Not much different from my own beginnings, though we were discovered at a pub we’d been playing at for a few months and already had a few EPs recorded,” he smiled wistfully, “We were also called the Jolly Rogers then.”

“Why did the name get changed?  I mean, you guys didn’t change your sound or anyone in the band or anything.”

“Aha, Ruby said you were a fan but didn’t say how much!” Killian crowed, as if he’d discovered a cache of hidden treasure. “Those EP’s weren’t even released stateside and I’ve never authorized them for streaming.  You’ve got a little pirate in you, don’t you Swan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She quipped back despite her complete and utter embarrassment at having seemingly given away how big of a fan of his she was.

“Perhaps I would,” he said softly, his gaze somehow just as soft.

She was saved from having to come up with some kind of reply as Will burst into the room practically yelling into his phone with Tink trailing behind rolling her eyes at him.  Killian smoothly rose from the piano bench but paused, pressing his finger down on one of the higher keys.  When she looked up at him he was watching her carefully.

“What?” She asked, beginning to feel self conscious.

“You should move Snowdrops and Buttercups to later in the show.  It’s a good song but drags down the show where it’s placed now.  Bite of Iron is a better fit for the lineup as it stands.  Granted, it is a bit older but I believe it’s a fan favorite?  Something to consider, anyway.”

He gave her a hesitant smile, hitting the note one more time before moving towards his guitar.  She sat unmoving, wanting to be mad that he felt he could mess around with the lineup she’d spent weeks perfecting but she couldn’t.  Not when he’d figured out what had been bothering her and offered up a pretty good solution without being condescending.  She only wished the song that he had suggested hadn’t been the one that was the hardest for her to play.

Unfortunately she also knew it would absolutely fit in perfectly with the flow of sound and feeling of that section of the show.  It would also get a huge response from the crowd because as much as it was a fan favorite she’d never played it live before.  Looking at Killian, where he was absently picking at his guitar as Will talked a mile a minute at him, she thought that if he could get back to playing in front of an audience after what he’d been through then she could get through one measly song.

Taking a deep breath she spun around on the bench and addressed the room, “Hey, guys, I’ve got some changes I want to make to the lineup.”

[mxsinistir]

May I request a Good Omens Gabriel x Human! Reader please?

Pairing: Gabriel x [y/n]

Warnings: n/a besides the fact that the bad writing ™ becomes worse writing ™ towards the end bc it’s 2 am while I’m writing this. 

Summary: Freelance London Photographer [y/n] is friends with the bookshop owner Aziraphale, and happens to be sitting in one day when a mysterious stranger enters to have a meeting with her friend. Suspicious, this artist is ready to find out as much as she can about the man. 

Word Count: 2390

(tried to keep this gender-neutral but tell me if I screwed this up anywhere bc I probably did)

Hope you enjoy!

***

The first time you met him was whenever you were inside A.Z. Fell & Co., discussing a book you’d just read and returned (since you were aware he despised the permanent purchasing of his collection) over two cups of hot chocolate.

The moment he entered, you were intrigued. You turned your head to watch him saunter in, and some part of you screamed deafeningly that whatever he was, he did not belong here. That was saying something since unusual people were not uncommon in the little London bookshop. You’d known Aziraphale’s eccentric friend Crowley for quite some time now. 

“Aziraphale,” His voice was hearty, one you should have taken comfort in hearing. But in addition to his picture-perfect, incredibly fake smile, it set your nerves on end. “May I have a word?” Part of you decided this was your chance to run from the off-setting visitor, but that would leave your friend alone with him.

“Hi, I’m [Y/n],” You shoved a hand into space between you, “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He looked you up and down, your eyes unwavering until he met your stare. His eyes - your stomach flipped, oh god his eyes - bore into yours, and you nearly recoiled when you noticed the color. A glassy purple with no signs of contacts. Just unexplainably rich violet that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. 

“Gabriel,” He said, shaking your hand with a grip that was just a little too strong. You were too proud to coddle your sore hand, though. “I need a moment with Aziraphale.”

“Sorry, can’t,” You couldn’t leave Aziraphale with him! What if something happened? You’d picked up that Aziraphale had been involved with some sketchy people before, and what if this guy happened to be a well-dressed gang member? Well . . . well dressed wasn’t exactly the way to put it. You didn’t know what look Gabriel was going for, but it just added to his overall wrongness. 

Besides, Aziraphale and Crowley had always remarked on your excellent intuition. Warning Aziraphale about bad customers, giving Crowley advice on problems he hadn’t explicitly explained, knowing that both your friends were thinking at a given time - and at this time, Aziraphale felt very, very anxious about Gabriel waltzing into his shop.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” He half-snarled, his fake smile faltering. 

“My bike got stolen earlier,” You explained, casually turning to drink the rest of your cocoa before it went cold. You also needed something to hide your growing smile. “I told the police to drop it off here when they found it.”“Are you sure you didn’t miss them during your chat?” He said, “I swore I saw a bike parked in the front.” You stepped past him, putting your nose against Aziraphale’s window. Sure enough, a blue bike was leaned against the glass pane. 

“Well, silly me - Guess they just left it and had better things to do.” You laughed, turning back to smile at Aziraphale and Gabriel. “See you later, Zira!”

You walked outside, planning on walking home. You weren’t going to take some random bike from in front of the bookshop just because some guy had snapped and made it appear for you.

You didn’t own a bike. 

***

The next morning, before you even had the chance to ask questions about the purple-eyed man, Crowley had come into your studio, mentioning that he was bored, due to Aziraphale’s sudden occupation with work. Aziraphale had never been truly busy since you’d known him. 

“Crowley, do you know a Gabriel?” You asked, not looking up from the photo you were currently editing the lighting of, trying to decide if you could amend the conflict between the clashing color palettes. If anything, Crowley just hoped that you were too occupied with your work to even notice that you opened your mouth to ask the question. A few seconds ticked by, and then you stared up at the redhead. 

“Yeah, I know him.” He said under his breath, “He’s a friend of Aziraphale’s. Definitely not a friend fo mine. I’d keep your distance.” 

“What does he do?” Even without being able to see his eyes through the glasses, you sensed the panic in them as he proceeded to mumble out an answer. 

“Paperwork,” He steadied himself, easing into the lie now. “Some company Aziraphale used to work for. I think he’s kind of a jerk, but he and Zira go way back, so I don’t intrude.” 

“Funny, I thought the bookshop had been family owned for a hundred years?” 

“Part-time job, maybe?” Crowley stammered out. You just rolled your eyes.

“Is Aziraphale in . . . is he in any danger with this guy?”“What? No, no, [Y/n], you’re just being paranoid.” You weren’t so sure. You’d never heard Crowley so nervous about the subject of someone, and you’d certainly never heard of him willing staying out of Aziraphale’s affairs. It was common knowledge that he was the nosiest man in London, especially when it came to his friends. “Seriously, Just stay out of his way and it should be fine.” He had a certain voice he used when he wanted you to believe things were fine, even if they weren’t.

“I’ll just ask Aziraphale since apparently, you won’t explain.” That little taunt was usually enough to make Crowley spill everything. Not for this, apparently. “He listens to you, Crowley. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” 

Just because he didn’t say the promise doesn’t mean she didn’t see him make it.

***

The second time you saw Gabriel wasn’t at the bookshop, but on a bench in St. James’ Park. You were currently looking over some pictures you’d taken of the vibrant area, the photographs dotted with jogging passersby and fluffy ducks that reminded you of Aziraphale. You stood up to walk by, snapping a few more when your camera focused in on a not-quite-familiar face.

“Gabriel,” You said, curiously approaching the benched man. “Fancy seeing you here,”

“[Y/n], is it? Aziraphale’s . . . acquaintance.” Who the hell used the word acquaintance anymore? You thought. “Is there something you need?”

“Just came to clear my eyes - I’ve been staring at this one picture I took for Aziraphale last week.” You briefly explained how one of the customers had split their coffee on one of Aziraphale’s old wall paintings, which he had sat on the table to clean the walls behind it. He had been furious, and though you knew you couldn’t possibly replace the expertly preserved painting - ruined by only human clumsiness - you’d offered to gift a photograph to him. Though he was obviously still disgruntled over the lost air, he did say that even something modern would eventually become history. You’d gotten to work. “I’m supposed to bring it to him this evening.”

“I was planning to speak with him this evening as well, actually.” The man remarked.

“Well, if you wanted, you could com toe hang out at my studio for a while.” You had a feeling that no matter what, this man would try to keep up appearances. Meaning he would accept your offer, even if only not to appear rude. Thanks to some information you’d gotten out of Crowley, you now knew that you wouldn’t be in any real danger as a human inviting him to your studio. He, on the other hand, wouldn’t be expecting the onslaught of questions you had for him. 

“That sounds great,” He said with clenched teeth, and so you just smiled and packed up your laptop and camera equipment, making sure to walk beside him all the way back to your flat. 

The square footage wasn’t much - you were honestly surprised you could manage to fit two people inside at once. Beyond that, every inch of the place was stacked high with frames and camera equipment and printed portraits. Your bed was usually just the couch by the window, and even then, you more often than not just fell asleep at your work desk, head draped over crossed arms. 

“I’m gonna be a little bit - I’ve gotta play with some finishing touches, and then I’ve got to print it.” You explained - Aziraphale had given you a faux-gold 18 x 21 frame, nearly identical to the one bordering the ruined painting. “You can sit on the couch if you still want to hang out. You okay with music?” You asked casually, bringing him a glass of water. You may be suspicious of him, but your mother had always stressed the importance of hospitality. 

“Do you like music?” He thought for a moment, staring blankly before nodding as if he’d been assessing whether or not it was the correct response to say so. “Queen?” He looked even more confused but nodded again. You synced your Spotify to a small speaker and set it to shuffle, sliding into your chair as We Are the Champions began to play. You snuck a glance over at Gabriel while mouthing the words and concluded he was possibly the only person in the world who didn’t know the lyrics. If anything, that just confirmed your suspicions of the man. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, was just as confused by you as you were by him. When you’d first met, he hadn’t known how to react to you. You’d stood up to him with no background knowledge, purely because you thought he had ill intentions towards your friend. Humans were always willing to throw themselves at things for no reason, but you were different - you had a reason, and that reason was nothing more than intuition to protect those you care about. 

And now, you’d carelessly brought him into your apartment - if he could even call it that. It was a glorified storage closet, filled to the brim with art and junk and beauty. He’d never been exposed to such a mess; heaven would have never tolerated it. He couldn’t even imagine that Hell was this chaotically organized. 

He could barely focus on that. How could he anymore, when there was you to look at? Smiling truly and losing yourself in the music blaring, snapping your fingers with bad timing, singing the guitar riffs, and constantly standing up just to pace around while mouthing the lyrics. 

You walked around him more than a few times, asking him random questions while leaning far back to see what your photo looked like from afar. He eventually saw that it was of an eggshell white duck in St. James, curiously floating alongside a dark goose that had landed in the waters. He could have scoffed at the symbolism, wondering if you understood the irony of it all yourself. 

Gabriel had never seen so much life in one plac.e It radiated from you, from your camera, from your fingers. It felt raw and unexplainably human, and not in the way that disgusted him with its mediocrity. There was nothing mediocre about you. You oozed with some sort of high that no angel could ever dream of finding themselves on. Angels were too flawless for something as uncontained as the day-to-day life you lead.

During the middle of one of your lyrical outbursts, you glanced over at Gabriel. He was drinking tea now, staring out into London from your window, sunbeams casting over his dusty hair and stunning eyes. Without a word, you pulled your camera in front of you and stepped towards him, snapping photos of him a quick succession. He whipped around at the sound, just quick enough to see you smiling. 

“Stay where you are - the lighting’s amazing.” You said, steadily walking closer to the man. He truly was a vision in an element like this. You leaned back to observe the picture he’d found himself in. “Do you think you could give me one with your wings?” 

And just like that, you watched the Archangel Gabriel freeze to the core as you shuttered a few more photographs. 

“Come on, everyone knows Aziraphale isn’t human.” And of course, there was no way Crowley could keep a secret like that once he was sufficiently drunk. “And besides, humans don’t usually make this pretty of muses.” 

He unfurled his wings gently, being careful not to knock over anything. All three pairs appeared in pristine, white condition, though when the window light scattered them, they reflected a spectrum of glistening violet. 

He nearly asked to confirm that you were human, though he knew the answer. No one but a human could accomplish this - a demon nor an angel could live in such harmonious chaos with their own little world, dancing to the raw beauty of it all and flourishing in the flaws you did not perceive as such. 

Gabriel had never felt love - a sort of ‘love for all humanity’, of course, but not the thrumming in his heart he felt now, looking at you in your element, high on the artistry of what you saw in him. On what no one else had ever seen in him. 

“I could have a photoshoot with you, you know.” You said, looking at your camera screen. “You look great on camera.” 

“There’s still a few hours before I need to meet with Aziraphale,” He lied - he was two hours behind schedule, not that that mattered. “He’d told me about this bakery beside his bookshop that he apparently adores.” He didn’t even like food. It didn’t matter - he figured you would. 

“Am I being asked out by the Archangel Gabriel?”“That’s strong wording-”“I’m famished,” You smiled, and as you walked over to your computer, he expected you to print and frame your imperfect perfection. Instead, you just saved the photo and eased your computer shut. “I can make something here, though. I don’t want to leave. Does the Archangel Gabriel want to watch a movie?”

He was about to make a snarky comment about your sarcastically calling him that, but he paused as you did the unexpected. You settled down on your couch right next to him and smiled. That was enough for him to decide that his meeting with Aziraphale could wait till morning. To hell with Heaven questioning him - him of all people - being off schedule. He would deal with that in time.

Right now, all that mattered was that he was sharing in on an artist’s high, and he wasn’t ever coming off.

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳18

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 6700+

Notes: Ouu - someone gets punched - and highkey; I’m happy. 

Masterlist ︳17 ︳ 19

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Backpfeifengesicht

(German/n.) A person who needs to be slapped; a face that needs a fist in it.

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

            “Come on Zuko~!”

            I whined like a child as I sat on Zuko’s study, preventing him from working on the array of papers that were scattered. Aang chuckled, watching me try my hardest to look cute, although Zuko seemed indifferent; an irritable frown on his face as he rubbed his temples. The way his forehead scrunched up made him seem like an old man, a grumpy one at that. “Please~, pretty-pretty-pretty please~!” I purred as I pushed my hands tightly against my face, trying hard to look somewhat endearing.

            Aang burst out laughing, his body sprawled along the chair he sat on as he watched me with anticipation, probably curious to see where this could go. I look like a complete fool, but I don’t care. Zuko pinched his nose in irritation before growling under his breath, clearly getting aggravated with me – but that was my goal. It was frustrating how little Zuko told me about his duties, the things he did as Fire Lord, and as the ‘Future Fire Nation Queen’ how embarrassing is it that I knew nothing about Fire Nation politics?

            “Yue, I swear-” Zuko hissed under his breath, as he tried once again to sign a document. With a kittenish swipe, I slide the paper away from him, only for him to drop the pen from his grasp. Zuko’s head shot upwards; eyes narrowed as he glared. “My answer is no Yue; don’t start,” Zuko spoke strictly, and I pouted. I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer!

            “That’s not fair! It’s my duty to know what you’re working on! At least the basics!” I moaned. Zuko let out a huff as he leaned against his chair, his arms crossed. And just like that, his whole attitude changed. An amused smile playing his lips as he watched me throw a temper tantrum on his desk. “You’re meddlesome,” Zuko said, and I scoffed, mimicking his gesture and folding my arms. “I want to know why the Earth King is visiting.”

            “For politics.”

            “ZUKO~!” I shrieked, annoyed at his vagueness, something which he did purposefully. It was like he was trying to annoy me with his stupidly vague answers. Is he a sadist? Does he enjoy getting me so upset?

            “Katara helps Aang with his duties, Suki helps Sokka, why can’t I help?” I shot back. Aang quickly stood up, throwing his hands up in the air, “Don’t bring me into your marital issues!” Aang hooted. His voice raspy and nose still a bit stuffy from his cold. Although, his horrendous sneezes did seem to go away as well as his cough. It was amusing hearing Aang’s voice so deep – Katara would be gushing about it if she were here.

            Aang walked off to the door, “Oh come on, help me out Aang!” I grumbled as I watched him pull the study door wide open. But Aang shook his head, “My job is to resolve world affairs, not marital affairs.” And with that, he slipped out the door like a breeze. Next time he asks for advice revolving Katara, I’m not giving him squat!

            I pouted once again as I turned to Zuko, “I don’t understand why you want responsibilities,” Zuko spoke, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. I puffed out some air as I pushed my hair away from my face. “Zuko. I want to help you. It’s my duty to serve this Nation as much as you. But I can’t do that if you won’t give me a chance.” I never expected Zuko to open up to me wholeheartedly, hell, if he wants he can take all his secrets to his grave for all I care…well that may be a lie since I would be curious…BUT, that isn’t the damn point!

            ‘This’ was different.

            ‘This’ was work, his job, and my duty.

            Every night when we went to bed, Zuko looked stressed; tossing and turning in his sleep. No matter how early he went to bed, he would wake up every morning looking restless, as if he hadn’t slept a wink and it killed me. It killed seeing someone who you loved carry so much burden when you’re right there, ready to help them with anything. If I could relieve him of just a sliver of that pressure, it would mean the world to me.

            Thoroughly beaten, I got off his desk and walked over to his side, my arms swinging as I played with my fingers. I looked like a defeated child; I just want to help him. Zuko’s expression softened immediately, seeming to realize that although playful, I was somewhat hurt by his reluctance to let me bear some royal responsibility revolving the kingdom.

            Reaching forward, he pulled my waist towards him. His head on my hip, as my hands lazily rested on his head, coddling him. I let my fingers play with the loose strands of hair that managed to escape his bun as he held me against his sitting figure. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, love…” Zuko muttered. I let out a sigh as I looked down at him, his eyes closed as he placed a chaste kiss over my dress. I could tell the wheels in his head were turning as he thought, clearly debating something.

            “Then what is it? Zuko I’ll do anything for you, and you know that I don’t expect you to tell me everything. But this is different. I’m going to look like a fool when the Earth King arrives, and I have no clue why.” I knew I could ask Aang or even Sokka, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to go behind Zuko’s back; I wanted to hear it from Zuko, from his lips. Zuko let out another sigh as he rubbed his head against my dress, this man is the living definition of stubborn. “I know- I know…it’s just that…”

            “What Zuko?”

            “You shouldn’t be bothered with this stuff. You may be off bedrest, but you’re still weak. I don’t want to burden you. You need to rest, heal, not stress about things like this.” Zuko spoke distressingly as he pulled away, and I knew he was gazing at the newly formed scar that rested along my jaw. Although healed, a long pink mark formed, forever reminding me of that fateful incident just a few days ago.

            Zuko looked torn, as he hugged my waist possessively. I smiled softly before letting my hand cup his chin, forcing him to look up towards me. “Good thing I’m not made out of glass hmm?” Zuko chuckled before planting another peck on my hip. A pregnant pause before he let out a huff.

            “What do you want to know love?”

            I grinned.

            I won. I did it. I actually got my way for once with Zuko.

            “I want to know why this meeting is so important, why the Earth King is even coming here. I know it’s about Republic City but why does he have to come here?” I blurted. Zuko looked up at me amused, clearly taken aback by my questions, but little did he know I had another hundred floating around in my mind. What could I say, I was curious – shoot me.

            “It’s regarding the location of the new nation…” Zuko muttered into my waist.

            “Why does it matter? It’s being built on Fire Nation land, is it not?”

            Zuko pulled away, itching away at his chin, “Kind of.” I raised a brow, “What does that mean?”

            “You see, after the war, we came to an agreeance that a piece of land in the Earth Nation would be Fire Nation land. There were too many Fire Nation citizens who settled there. They didn’t want to leave, and many Earth Nation citizens didn’t want to see them go.” I nodded at Zuko’s words, not surprised at all.

            It caused quite a ruckus in the Earth and Fire Nation. Some thought another war was going to erupt since Fire Lord Zuko and Earth King Kuei had quite a few altercations regarding the land. That land was where the first Fire Nation Colony settled, and while the colony was built with malicious intent, it soon shifted and became a home. The number of families that had called that colony a home over the years, and not just for Fire Nation citizens but Earth as well, was tremendous. Ultimately, the Earth King backed down and gave the land to Zuko, and some could argue it forever caused an unspoken rift between the leaders – regardless of whether they choose to acknowledge it.

            “It’s a political move – you’re asking for his permission to use the land to build the new Nation…” I muttered under my breath as I began piecing together the information. Zuko could build the new Nation without the Earth King’s approval, but it would be another thorn in their relationship. So by asking the Earth King first, out of respect, it makes the Earth King feel like a king when in reality, he wasn’t even a pawn in the matter. Zuko…that sly bastard.

            Zuko grinned, tapping my nose with glee, “Ahh, you’re smarter than I thought.”

            “H-hey! I was a public figure at the Southern Tribe in case you forgot; I know a few things.” I grumbled, but I still couldn’t hide the faint blush that tainted my cheeks at his praise.

            “Well, there is that, but also funding. You see, us, the South and Northern tribe agreed to fund this new Nation, but the Earth Nation on the other hand…”

            “They don’t want to give any money.”

            “And why do you think that love?”

            “Because you already stole their land.”

            “Exactly. What a good girl.” Zuko cooed as he let his hand wander from my hip and up my stomach. I blushed feverishly at his praise, the first time he ever spoke to me in such a manner, and the worst part was I enjoyed it. Zuko’s words of praise sent a shiver straight to my core. The way he spoke sometimes was utterly sinful, and yet he seemed completely unfazed. As if the phrases or spontaneous pet names he would often refer to me as were innocent – when we both knew that was far from the truth.

            He let his hands drop from my stomach to my waist again, pulling me in between his spread legs, causing my knees to buckle slightly. But his hands held me in place, his fingers dancing along my hips.

            “S-so that is why the Earth King and Queen are visiting?” I asked flustered, anything to distract myself from Zuko’s presence; I’m drowning in him. But Zuko shook his head, “Unfortunately, the Earth Queen won’t be joining him.” I pouted, slightly disappointed. Two years ago the Earth King got married, while I was invited to their wedding, so was everyone else. That meant that someone had to stay behind to watch over the Southern Tribe, and I was the sacrifice. “Is she nice?”

            Zuko’s nose scrunched up in disgust, “No, she’s a complete bitch.” He grumbled. I raised a brow, did I miss something?

            “I’m sorry, what? You just said, unfortunately.”

            Zuko scoffed, “I know what I said, and I meant it. Because the Queen isn’t arriving, they’re sending her brother in place, and he’s a complete asshole.” I couldn’t help but laugh at Zuko. He really was something else at times.

            “I would prefer the bitch over the asshole anytime.”

            “Should I bother asking?”

            “I thought this was a purely business conversation,” Zuko said with a smirk, but the way his hands travelled up my back completely contradicted his words. Purely business my ass. I let my hands rest on his shoulders as I rested my head against his forehead because while Zuko was definitely playing along the lines of flirting and work, I finally felt like I had a purpose.

            Aang and Zuko needed the Earth King to provide his share of funding but also agree to the creation of Republic City. And given that there was a bit of ‘political’ tension between Zuko and the King, it was really up to Aang and me to pull out all of the tricks. “What are you thinking about so much babe?” Zuko hummed as his hands ran up my back, and I smiled innocently, “Just that I finally have a job.”

            Right away Zuko’s eyes narrowed, the grip on my waist tightening. Tightening to the point that I gasped out in surprise and discomfort. “I promised to tell you, not for you to do,” Zuko spoke lowly, a warning. And for a split moment, I was going to fold under his gaze and do as he said, but I couldn’t. As Imperial Consort, it was my duty to assist him, and as his girlfriend, it was my job to make sure I was his support. I swallowed deeply, as I tried my hardest to match his death stare, “No.”

            Zuko’s eyes lit up, a fire in his eyes as a smirk erupted, a grin that screamed trouble. “Are you…disobeying me?” Zuko purred, the way his finger trailed under my chin with ease caused me to bite my lip anxiously. His tone was falsely sweet; venom masked in honey as his finger trailed along my face far too gently, like a touch of wind.

            “Yes.” My voice nothing more but a whisper.

            I was a kitten in a lion’s grasp, and Zuko knew that as well.

            But despite the obvious, he was relishing, the golden twinkle in his eyes gave that much away. Any chance to assert his dominance was a great time for Zuko. “So you’re telling me, that you’re going to go against Fire Lord’s orders?” Zuko spoke eagerly, his lips just barely touching mine as his fingers wrapped around my jaw and pulled me close.

            “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

            “And why is that love?”

            “Because I made an oath to this Nation, but also you. You may order me to stay put, but I would argue that my oath to this Nation is just as important – if not, more.” I said grinning to myself, because for once in my life, I spoke without a stutter, and – I made a semi-logical argument. The look of astonishment on Zuko’s face made me high five myself mentally, as he seemed taken aback. The way his mouth dropped slightly and his eyes pointed. I won. I won this argument fair-and-square, and Zuko was having a hard time digesting it.

            “Were you always this…cunning?” Zuko grumbled, his eyes burning, truly annoyed that I managed to outsmart him for once. I let out a small giggle, “Truthfully…no.” Zuko let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “But if there is a need, a want, then there is a way.” I whispered before planting a small kiss on his lips, “…plus…you’re too stubborn to admit that you need help.” Zuko delightfully laughed into my lips, and I couldn’t help but giggle along, his laughter being music to my ears, I could listen to him for the rest of my life.

            “I guess I can punish you later hmm?” Zuko muttered half-heartedly as he devoured my lips with his own, his tongue tracing along the ridges of my mouth teasingly; I found myself falling into his embrace. A soft moan escaped my lips as I let my hands run up his neck. But just as quick, I cheekily pulled away, a new found confidence seeming to consume me, “That threat seems empty…last time you told me the same thing if I remember right.”

            Zuko’s fingers dug into my skin, forcing me to look at him as he held my head high. My eyes meeting his. It was then I knew, I got too cocky. The way his touch seemed to burn into my skin, and the dark fire that glossed over his eyes proved to me that I over-stepped, and I was going to pay.

            “I always keep to my word love; I was just being nice - waiting for you to heal up. But if you want to be punished that bad, so be it.” Zuko growled. I found my mouth dropping, my lips dry as I scrambled to think. Zuko snickered at my distress, not at all pleased at my speechless stance. He let his tongue run along his lips, wetting them before teasingly brushing them against mine, “What’s wrong love? Where did that feisty attitude of yours disappear off too, hmm?”

            This was the problem between us; the tension that always managed to bubble up no matter where we were. It came to the point that my skin felt like it was always on fire whenever Zuko was around, and the fact that we’re now sleeping together made it ten times worse. Yet no matter how heated it got between us, it never did escalate to much more than teasing. It was like he was waiting, for what – that was beyond me. But every time we teased, I could tell his resolve was cracking little by little, and when that time finally comes; I pray.

            Zuko’s hand swiftly rose up my back, his hands expertly grasping a fist full of my black hair. Just as I noticed, he pulled roughly. I gasped, not expecting Zuko to tug at my hair in the slightest. My head forcefully titled back, as Zuko grinned slyly, an intimidating growl rumbling deep in his chest, “Now be a good girl and run off, yeah? Don’t you have a tea date planned with my Uncle in another twenty minutes?”

            My eyes widen, shit – Zuko was right. The grip on my hair slacked, and I found myself straightening up, not realizing that I was straddling Zuko’s lap at this point. “Shit, I need to leave – now,” I spoke anxiously as I quickly tried to fix my dress and hair, how is it possible that I look so worn out after a simple conversation with Zuko? But Zuko chuckled to himself, resting his hands behind his head as he watched me fix myself. That is why – because a simple conversation with Zuko isn’t as simple as it seems. He’s going to be my downfall at this rate.

            “Be careful, if you get tired ask a guard to help you. And make sure you take the paths, don’t try any shortcuts in the garden.” Zuko lectured, and I couldn’t help but pout, “I know~! Stop worrying about me~.” I whined. Zuko laughed before leaning in his chair, his hand gently caressing my face, “It’s my job.”

            I stopped my movements to look down at Zuko, a sweet smile on his face as he gazed over me with his gold eyes. My heart tightened just looking at him, “Zuko…” I hummed, only for him to nod, “Yes love?” I opened my mouth but quickly closed it. The overwhelming urge to just tell him that I loved him at this very moment ate away at me, but I knew better.

            Zuko cared for me - yes, but he was a man of sense. And there was no way in the spirit world Zuko felt the same way, I was a helpless romantic, forever driven by my emotions. I foolishly fell hopelessly in love with him. I bit my tongue, before shaking my head, “…Good luck with work.”

            I swore for a minute, Zuko’s smile wavered, as if he was disappointed to hear what I had said. As if he was expecting something more. But as fast as I thought I saw it, a brilliant smile appeared once again, “Thank you, now hurry. And save me a biscuit, will you?”

            “Always.”

            I couldn’t help the small huffs that escaped me as I walked through the long ornate hallways. Although I was feeling better, my chi levels were still slightly off, meaning that typical tasks, like walking, was taking a more considerable toll on me than usual. I let my fingers gently brush against the walls as I walked, just in case.

            I knew I could ask a guard, or a servant, for assistance. But the stubbornness in me told me otherwise. Starting next week I was set to begin my training, and the thought of bending once again made my blood run cold. But I also knew better; I had to get better, I had to move past this bump. If not for me, for Zuko, for Kiyi, for the gang. The nurse was right, I was strong, and by me refusing to bend, I was adding more stress on Zuko than needed. I refuse to be that annoying damsel in distress; I wasn’t raised to be like that.

            The sound of a few maids whispering down the hallway caught my attention, my ears perking up at the sound of their hushed voices. They bowed lowly, and my eyebrows scrunched up, trying to figure out who they were bowing at. Whoever it was, they still hadn’t turned the corner. Probably just Ursa or maybe Noren…

            But then again, I couldn’t help but notice the way their hands shook as if they were fearful of the person who was walking towards them. A small scowl on their faces as looked down at the floor, a look I haven’t seen on servants faces since I’ve been here…except that one time. My breath hitched, and I found myself standing still, not moving an inch. You've got to be kidding me – just my damn luck.

            A tall woman walked around the corner, her hands carefully placed in front of her, although hidden underneath her long scarlet coloured robes. Her silky black hair was nothing less than perfect, her buns so tightly secured to her head that they didn’t budge a single bit as she strode down the hall. Maybe if I just stand still, I can just blend in with the wall…but oh, of course with my luck, that was far from the reality of the situation.

            The moment her cat eyes met mine, a cold shiver ran down my spine, and I found myself sharply breathing. Her fair skin contrasted heavily against her dark glaze. “Imperial Consort Ying Yue…Just the person I was looking for.” Mai spoke elegantly. But her words were far from pleased. It felt forced, down to the way she spoke my name. Flashbacks of me trying to befriend her came rushing back – remembering how she scoffed at my presence as if I was nothing more than a bug. To hear her say my title, to tilt her head in some form of acknowledgement spoke wonders.

            I nodded my head and smiled at her, “Countess Mai, what may I do for you?” My voice was steady, didn’t waver a bit as I tried my hardest to channel my inner Toph or Suki. But I found myself entirely memorized by Mai. Despite her cold hard appearance, she was stunning. She wasn’t your typical beauty - curvy or flirtatious, rather the opposite. She carried herself with the utmost respect, and her lean figure exhibited just how much she trained and took care of herself. Mai was the exact opposite of me…and I envied her.

            While she looked like a warrior, I looked like a delicate flower. The way Mai spoke, always commanded attention, she was born to be a royal, to be a leader; things I wasn’t. I anxiously bit my lip as I took in how different Mai and I were. What could Zuko possibly see in me? Mai is nothing but a leader…she would make a better Queen than me…

            “I came to say my thanks.” My eyes widen in disbelief, completely taken aback by her statement. “I’m sorry, what do you mean Countess Mai, I’m afraid I don’t-”

            “You saved my brother,” Mai sputtered, although I noticed the way her eye twitched in irritation. Just breathing the same air as me was about to set her off. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unsure what to say. Was Mai, the Almighty, the one who couldn’t even look at me since I have arrived here, thanking me? She watched the way I looked at her, and kissed her teeth, unpleased by my dumb expression, “My brother; Tom-Tom.” She said, a hint of attitude in her tone.

            Tom-Tom? That shy little adorable boy is Mai’s younger brother? I smiled before pushing back some of my hair, Mai was thanking me. Maybe I misunderstood her; perhaps she isn’t as cold-hearted as I thought…Maybe Mai is like Toph? A bit rough along the edges but sweet in the inside. This could be the start of something new between us...

            “No need to thank me, Countess Mai, I couldn’t live with myself should anything-”

            “I don’t need your damn speech,” Mai spoke swiftly, raising her thin hand to shut me up. I didn’t even get a chance to blink before she turned on her heel, not bothering to spare me another second. My eyes widen at her actions as I looked at her back. Her shoulders’ were tense, visibly distressed and I frowned. Why is she mad? She was the one who came to me; she was the one who spoke to me first. Why does she hate me so much? It seriously can’t be because I’m with Zuko.

            I sucked in a deep breath, I knew deep down I should let her go, that I should just listen to what Zuko has said countless of times and leave Mai alone. As Zuko would say, ‘be a good girl and listen to me. Don’t try to be friends’. But that was just it, sometimes my big heart got the best of me, and I ignored Zuko’s warnings. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that someone hated me just because. I don’t expect me and her to be best friends, but damnit, you can’t just hate someone to hate. There had to be a reason; I didn’t talk to her but twice since I’ve arrived – what could I have possibly done to make her hate me this much?

            “Countess Mai-”

            Mai stopped dead in her tracks the moment she heard my voice. Despite her long sleeves, I could see the way her hands balled up in aggravation as if she was trying to keep her composure. With a sharp turn on her heel, she faced me. Although this time, I could see the way her jaw clenched with infuriation, her eyes glaring nothing but daggers at me. “Listen mut, listen very carefully,” I flinched at her words, did she seriously just call me a mut?

            “I came here to say thank you because as much as I wish you were dead, I know when to pay my respects. So don’t you dare, for a single moment, think that there are any chances of us being friends.” I couldn’t help but take a deep breath, trying my hardest not to snap back. As my dad always said; ‘two wrongs don’t make a right.’ But the way Mai looked at me with disgust had me biting my lip to keep my cool.

            “Mai, I don’t understand why you hate me so much. I know you and Zuko had a history, but that is between you two, not us. I didn’t do anything to you.” I spoke sensibly. But the last thing I expected was for her to laugh; a bitter, manic laugh that brought chills upon my skin. The way her lips twisted to a wicked smile as she shook her head.

            “Did nothing? You said it yourself, you knew about Zuko and me, yet here you are. Leeching off him like a little pest.” She hissed. I frowned, a pest? “I don’t know what Zuko sees in you. You’re nothing. You’re not a royal, not a Firebender. Nothing but a sorry story.”

            My hands instantly balled into fists as she stomped closer and closer to me. She was taller than me that I knew, but it didn’t matter. I’m going to tear her to shreds if she didn’t shut her mouth in the next ten seconds. To think that I envied her, forget that. But Mai wasn’t finished. As if a second wind hit her, she took another step towards me. A menacing smile on her face as she tapped her long boney fingers on her chin; “But I guess I’m not giving you enough credit. To think, that someone as useless, obnoxious, and pathetic as you could whore their way to such a rank. You’re nothing more than a royal bed warmer.”

            “Jealousy is an ugly colour Mai, even for you.” I scowled.

            Mai’s eyes widen for a split moment hearing my stern voice, but she quickly composed herself and grinned mischievously. Keep calm, don’t let her get under your skin- “Aww, so the slut does know how to use her pretty mouth besides sucking.”

            Fuck her.

            As if an unknown force overcame, I found my knees slightly bending, my hips tilting as my right hand rose. The rude remarks, the insults, the backhanded comments – I had enough. With whatever strength I could muster, my right arm tensed while my hand balled up into a fist that swung with a purpose; her face.

            Mai’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting a ‘royal bed warmer’ to throw a punch; but I guess today is just full of surprises. For someone who was supposedly ‘trained’ in hand-to-hand combat, she sure had slow reflexes. I could feel my top knuckles clash against her boney nose, her eyes widening for a split moment before she cried out in pain. Her eyes teared up in reaction to my punch, as her hand instantly went up to cover her face.

            My breathing was laboured as I pulled back, my left hand falling against the wall; trying to steady myself. That punch took all of my damn energy, but fuck was it worth it. The look of pure anguish and disbelief was written all over her face.

            I knew I messed up.

            I knew I broke every single royal protocol in the book – again.

            But I also knew that the pleasure of seeing my fist in her face was remarkable. A once in a lifetime memory that I was going to take to my grave and bask.

            “Y-you punched me!?” Mai screamed as she held her nose, a few drops of blood trickling down her hand.

            “I’m sorry, did a pathetic, useless, ugly, mut hurt you?” I spoke sarcastically; hurling back every single insult she threw at me. Mai huffed, sending me glares of death but I easily brushed them off. I’m dating Zuko, the master of death stares, Mai’s stares were nothing more but a tickle at this point. With a tight grip on her nose, she hollered, “GUARDS!”

            My eyes widen in surprise; she was going to try to get me in trouble. Right away heavy steps echoed behind me, a few gasps of surprise signalling to me that they saw precisely what I saw. Countess Mai with a bloody nose and my hand still balled up in a fist, “S-she punched me!” Mai shrieked as she pointed a thin finger at me accusatorily. The guards looked at me, confusion on their faces as they stood hesitantly, and I couldn’t blame them. Here you have an Imperial Consort accused of punching the ex-lover of the Fire Lord in the face, and the worst part was, it did happen.

            “Imperial Consort Ying Yue…is this true?” A guard spoke cautiously, a hint of disbelief in his voice. Fuck. Zuko is going to kill me. “I-I-”

            “Countess Mai started it! Imperial Consort was defending herself!”

            My eyes widen as a voice shouted from behind Mai, and it was then I realized who it was. The maids from earlier, they saw and heard everything, they’re going to defend me. Mai hissed as she turned to stare at the group of maids that eagerly ran towards us. But instead of rushing to Mai’s aid, they ran to me, tightly gripping my arms as they helped me stand straight.

            “Countess Mai was harassing Imperial Consort Ying Yue – she was insulting her and the Fire Lord.” The maid spoke breathlessly, but I could see the sparks in her eyes as she spoke. They wanted to help me, but more importantly, they wanted to see Mai get in trouble. Personal revenge for them - seems like Mai wasn’t exactly welcomed at the Kingdom after all.

            Mai’s face drained white, “Y-you-” Mai stuttered, so consumed by anger she couldn’t even speak. But the maids held their ground, holding on to me as they glared at Mai.

            “Countess Mai, you will be placed under house arrest for insulting Imperial Consort Ying Yue and the Fire Lord.” The guards spoke with ease. The irony – the fact that she tried to get me in trouble, but she was the one getting arrested. Mai’s eyes widen in disbelief as the guards approached her, their large hands tightly gripping her upper arms. Fuck, as much as I wish to see her get put in her place-

            “No!”

            Everyone stopped their actions to look at me, even Mai herself. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, pulling away from the support of the maids.

            “Mai, you can say whatever you wish to me. You can make me your punching bag. But remember carefully, if I’m going to be your punching bag, I’ll make you my punching bag.”

            “I'll remember this.” With that, Mai hastily shook the guard's arms off her as if their touch was venom. Mai turned on her heel, her hand still tightly gripping her nose as she dashed off. Her red robes and tight buns disappeared along with the guards, probably going to their original posts. I let out a breath; I can’t believe this just happened. I found myself leaning against the wall; trying to come to terms with just everything that had happened.

            “Imperial Consort Ying Yue…?” I turned quickly, remembering the group of maids were still standing beside me. Gosh, if they weren’t here who knows what would have happened. “Ahh, uh, thank you. For defending me…I wouldn’t know what to do.” I spoke. The maids smiled, giving me low bows, “Do you need assistance…?” I smiled but nodded my head no, “I should be fine, but sincerely- thank you all.” The maids grinned to themselves before waving, “Take care Imperial Consort! It was our pleasure.” And with another step, they dashed off.

            I let out another heavy breath, my right fist tingling. I can’t believe I just punched Mai in the face. Zuko is going to kill me, what am I going to say to him? How do I even begin explaining what had happened? I don’t even know what happened! I straighten out my hand, wincing a bit at the soreness, but I could only imagine the world of pain Mai was going to be in. I grinned to myself. As horrible as it was, it felt great.

            A gentle hand on my lower back caught me off guard, my body turning swiftly to my right. “Iroh?” I gasped. He stood there, his hand still on my lower back while his other hand gently held mine. He wore a warm smile, a smile that highlighted every single happy line on his face. “You did a number on her didn’t you?” Iroh spoke amused. My eyes widen, and I flushed nervously, he saw. He saw me punch Mai.

            “I can explain-”

            “Ying Yue?”

            “Yes…?”

            “Thank you.” My mouth dropped as Iroh laughed, his belly rumbling in joy. “I don’t understand-”

            “Do you know why Zuko and Mai never worked out?” Iroh spoke gently while carefully inspecting my hand for any damage. I pouted at Iroh’s question because I didn’t even know why Zuko would go for someone like Mai. Curiosity ate away at me every day, eager to know more about their history, but I knew Zuko was naturally a private person. Someone who would tell me his secrets, but at his pace. I shook my head, “I never asked. It didn’t feel right…” I muttered under my breath.

            Iroh smiled, “Too many chefs in a kitchen.” I giggled at Iroh’s idiom, completely taken off guard. It was something my dad used to say whenever mom tried to help him cook. “What does that have to do with Zuko and Mai?”

            “A lot. They’re both takers. Leaders. It’s easy for them to want – but hard for them to give.” It was like something in me ticked. They were too similar – that’s why it never worked out. Aang was careless while Katara was serious – but together they made a perfect combination. Same with Suki and Sokka – they completed each other, made each other change for the better. But Mai and Zuko…they were so much alike that instead of helping each other – they fed into each other’s flaws.

            “Zuko and Mai were in a world of pain, the only stable thing in their lives was each other. It’s easy to mistake friendship for love when you're vulnerable.” Iroh spoke wisely, and I nodded. I got it now. They were friends. And a part of me felt horrible. Zuko didn’t lose a ‘girlfriend’ - he lost a friend. A best friend who had been with him his whole life. The bitterness from Mai – she misses him.

            “There’s a reason why Zuko loves you-you understand him. But why do you love Zuko?” My eyes widen as I found myself biting my lip, “Zuko doesn’t love me…” I whispered before looking back down at our hands, but Iroh scoffed. “I’ve known him his whole life, and not once have I seen him look at someone like how he looks at you. So hurry up and tell him how you feel, because the Avatar only knows how long it will take him to confess.”

            “Iroh…”

            “Yes, Ying Yue?”

            “…the better question is what is there not to love about Zuko…” Iroh grinned sheepishly, before gently patting my hand with his own, “Let me get you to the infirmary, take a look at your hand. Then we can get our afternoon tea in the gardens.” I smiled and nodded, “Zuko is going to kill me…” I muttered to myself, but Iroh laughed, “Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep this under wraps if you promise me something.” I looked up at Iroh, a curious look on my face which made Iroh laugh more.

            “I’ll keep this whole ‘punching Mai in the face thing’ under wraps if you promise me to love my nephew forever.”

            “…Deal.”

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[relenafanel]

Professional 3rd Wheel drabble for deliveryisdelayed

For @deliveryisdelayed as one of the Patreon rewards

Bucky wasn’t the first person in the world to think up the idea of being a professional 3rd wheel. He probably wasn’t even the first one in Brooklyn. He WAS the first to put together an App and a team of volunteers that soon became a team of professional hires. There wasn’t a ton of money in it, but then it wasn’t Bucky’s primary job.

You had to get creative when your bedroom in a shared apartment cost $1200 a month.

Carol was one of Bucky’s long-standing customers. She was notoriously picky and completely unable to let someone down easy. She was his favorite, and it wasn’t because she went on an average of 3 dates a month that usually ended with her enjoying her meal alone, but that certainly helped. Bucky appreciated a good casual alone-date.

So he wasn’t surprised when the automatic text came through on his phone for him to bail her out. He took off his gloves and left them in the seat of his car, locking the door behind him before wandering into the café.

“Oh Carol,” Bucky started to say, sparing a glace for her date sitting opposite her. Then he did a double-take. “Steve!” he blurted out in shock. “You’re on a date?”

Holy fuck.

HOLY FUCK.

Steve. On a date.

With Carol?

Bucky was interrupting Steve on a date. With Carol.

Oh no.

Steve was Bucky’s absolutely gorgeous boy-next-door fantasy who had been in a relationship since the first moment Bucky had met him. He’d met Peggy too, she was lovely. If anything, she was too good for Steve and that was saying something. He also knew that if Steve was on a date that their relationship was over and probably had been for a while.

Steve looked up at him and winced and then shrugged. “Unsuccessfully, it seems,” he pushed back from the table with an earnest kind of grace for being the kind of date that had Bucky called in. “I’ll pay the bill. Excuse me.”

Bucky turned towards Carol with wide eyes. “That was Steve Rogers,” he hissed. “You were on a date with Steve Rogers and you called me in? He’s single like once a decade.”

“He just got out of a long-term relationship. That’s baggage I don’t want.”

Bucky almost made a frustrated sound of disbelief. Everyone had baggage! If Bucky could handle Steve’s baggage – and Bucky was notoriously fickle, it was where the whole idea for his third wheel service had come from – then anyone could!

“Fine,” Bucky said. “Are you ok? Do you want company?” he asked because that was part of his job. It was what set him apart from the guys on Craigslist who did this for a lot less. Bucky had cultivated a reputation for being a quasi-bodyguard in addition to a date destroyer.  Putting his muscles to good use and all.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “I’ve got this whole burger to finish.”

“Good,” he said and moved to intercept Steve.

x.x.x.

“I just wanted a starter date,” Steve explained, sitting on a cold metal bench. Bucky had winced when he sat next to him, and resigned himself to the fact he’d left his gloves in his car. “Someone who didn’t know me and who didn’t matter. That sounds cold. I don’t mean it cold. A fresh start. I wanted a fresh start.”

“Fresh starts are hard,” Bucky pointed out to him. “The two of you get to know each other based on surface level stuff.” He put his hands in his pocket to resist from reaching out to touch Steve, but then ended up putting his hand on Steve’s back anyway. “At least don’t mention Peggy next time.”

“I don’t think there will be a next time,” Steve said, and his head was hanging low, almost between his knees.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“It was devastating looking up and seeing you there, and know what you were doing. The harbinger of first date doom.”

“I’ll put that on my business card,” Bucky responded, glib but internally wincing.

“I thought it was going ok,” he said, almost completely muffled by his hands.

“Sometimes it’s not you,” Bucky pointed out, and tried not to sound too much like he was being kind because he knew Steve wouldn't take it well if he thought he was being pitied or coddled. “I’d date you. I want to, if you’d like?” He felt like his heart was pounding a mile a minute.

Steve looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed but he wasn’t crying. “So you can teach me what I’m doing wrong?” he asked, a bitter tinge to his tone. “I probably need something like that, but I’m going to have to turn you down.”

Bucky was speechless for a moment. “Fuck off with that. No! Are you joking? I wanted to ask you out the first time we met.”

“Oh.” Steve looked surprised.

“Part of me always hoped you’d be single and I’d have a chance to at least ask, but Peggy’s lovely and the two of you seemed perfect together. I thought you’d eventually get married.”

This made Steve wince more than seeing Bucky interrupt his date had.

“Oh,” Bucky winced back. “I didn’t realize.”

“She never really wanted to. It wasn’t just one thing or one fight,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t just that I wanted to get married and she didn’t. It was… the things we couldn’t find a mutual compromise that made both of us happy started to overshadow the things that we could.”

Bucky swallowed heavily. “How long has it been?”

“Three months.”

“Maybe you need more time.”

“It’s so quiet in the apartment. I’ve tried to go out with friends, but it feels like it’s worse when I have to go home to an empty room, and,” he inhaled. “You’re right, of course you’re right. I don’t know how to be alone.”

Bucky picked his words carefully. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned through my job it’s that some people never learn how to be alone. That’s ok for them, but I think that you don’t want to jump back in on a long term relationship with the first person you hit it off with on a surface level. I don’t mean to put words in your mouth, but you deserve more than that.”

Steve frowned at him.

Yeah, Bucky had definitely gone too far.

And his frown deepened in thought.

“You’re right, of course,” Steve admitted. “It’s too soon and I need to adjust first. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Do you want a ride home, or…?”

“No, it’s a nice evening. I’ll walk,” his lip quirked. “I’m not one of your clients, you don't need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Shit. And Bucky had missed his window to date Steve Rogers again. Fucking hell.

He didn’t just miss his window. He’d closed it himself.

x.x.x.

Bucky’s main fear seeing Steve’s name flash on his caller ID was that Steve was looking to hire him for his next adventure in dating 101. “Hello?” he said, because listening to a voicemail he’d then have to make a return call for was worse than just picking up in the first place. It had been 4 months since Bucky disastrously asking Steve out, so for all Bucky knew he was being invited to a wedding.

“It didn’t seem right to do this over text.”

“Are you getting married?” he asked.

“No,” Steve emphasized, insulted by the question. “I took your advice. I feel less like I have to move on to fill a gaping hole in my chest and more like I want to move on to find someone important. I wanted to thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Yep. He was a stupid idiot.

“Are you free this Friday?”

“I… what?”

“You asked me out and then you lectured me into giving myself time to heal.”

“You don’t owe me a date!” Bucky responded. This was worse. This was 100% worse.

“I don’t owe you shit,” Steve said back in just as hot of a tone. “I wanted to say yes then, and I want to say yes now. So are you free this Friday?”

Bucky actually already had a date for Friday night, but it wasn’t much of a choice. “Give me five minutes. I’ll have to call you back.”

x.x.x.

Dating Steve was exactly what Bucky hoped it would be. His chest felt too small to contain his heart, a steady reminder that he was nervous. When Steve had moved into the rooms below his, Bucky had thought ‘this is the man’ and then he’d met Peggy. It was the lamest tragedy of his life considering that he’d partially pined after the man for years. He hadn’t actively pursued a crush, but there’d been a niggling awareness every time they spoke that Bucky could and would enjoy a serious relationship with the man.

Steve looked just as nervous as Bucky felt. “I’ve been told I’m not great at this.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, at least I can’t show up to interrupt this one.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth tilted up. “I remember the time you called me from the bathroom to come fake an emergency with your pet snake.”

“And then you told me it ate my cat,” Bucky pointed out, held Steve’s gaze, and burst out laughing. “It was both awful and brilliant. You’re the shittiest fake pet sitter ever.”

Bucky moved carefully, putting his hand over Steve’s on the table. It was a lame move, but it still felt like something illicit. Skin to skin contact. Oh wow.

They smiled at each other, tentative and new and uncertain.

Bucky watched as his phone lit up with a phone call. Steve watched too, his fingers spasming under Bucky’s like he was controlling himself from jerking away. “I promise I wouldn’t," Bucky swore.

“I know,” Steve said it with confidence, but there was something in his expression as Bucky declined the call.

“Not because I’m worried about you knowing my tricks. I’d just tell you straight.”

His phone lit up again with Becca calling back.

“Sorry,” he said to Steve. “What!” Bucky barked. He was 100% sure he’d told her to cancel the plan for her to interrupt him once his date changed to Steve. He knew he did because she’d looked at him wide-eyed and went ‘does that mean Peggy is single?’ and when he pointed out that she’d never shown interest in women before she’d enunciated ‘PEGGY CARTER’.

“I’m at the hospital,” she told him. “Broke my ankle.”

“I’m on a date!” he reminded her. “With Steve!”

“Riiiight,” she said. “Oh god, that was tonight. Right. Sorry.”

“Sorry,” Bucky repeated to Steve once he hung up and debated whether he’d find Becca’s sapphic awakening over Peggy funny.

Then Becca texted him.

Becca: I really am at the hospital tho

Becca: Maybe after your date the two of you could come get me?

Becca: I’ll probably need someone with Steve’s muscles to carry me up the 4 flights of stairs to my apartment.

Becca: But the cast isn’t even on yet, you have time.

Becca: Probably not if you were thinking of fucking. Come get me first then.

Bucky barely resisted the urge to drop his head to the table.

x.x.x.

Steve was definitely a keeper since he did carry Becca up four flights of stairs without dropping her. That was pretty heroic considering she kept squirming to look at Bucky behind Steve’s back while telling Steve about the embarrassing time Bucky had tried to use a can of Red Bull as a sex toy, and how no one had carried him up the stairs afterwards. She’d had to help him an inch at a time.

“I’m pretty much going to murder her,” Bucky told Steve, after he’d dumped Becca’s crutches and pain meds next to her on the bed.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “That was awfully embarrassing for you. I remember that limp.”

Bucky flushed.

“But then,” Steve mused. “It’s probably a good thing you don’t get daunted by a challenge.”

What the fuck did that even mean? “Are you implying what I think you are?” he asked.

“Guess you’ll find out sometime.” and then he smirked.

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 1X18 - The Stable Boy

I’m very interested to see my reaction to this episode this time! On my first watch, I didn’t like it (At least the past portion), but with time and more insight into Regina’s character, that just might change!

It’s not because of you, Reggie! i love you!

But what was my deal then, and how has it changed?

Find out alongside me under the cut!

Press Release Emma continues her exhaustive search for evidence that will prove Mary Margaret’s innocence in the murder of David’s wife, Kathryn. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was and before evil blackened her soul, Regina must choose between betraying her mother, Cora, and marrying for true love, or betrothing royalty and living a regal - but loveless - life; and the event that caused the Evil Queen to loathe Snow White is revealed. General Thoughts Past It’s weird. I know Cora is an amazing villain, and it may be the fault of time, but I sometimes forget just how menacing and evil she was. So seeing the evil she’s capable of show itself again with such intensity was like when you touch someone else after getting a good dose of static shock going through you. Just as with Regina’s villainy up to this point, Cora’s is overt and strong. Even when she’s praising Regina, it’s a backhanded compliment (“You’ve finally done something right”). But oddly enough, it’s when the abuse is less over the top that it’s at its worst, and by that, I mean accepting Leopold’s proposal on Regina’s behalf and getting Snow to divulge Regina’s secret. How Cora’s lunges at insecurities and just makes the bold yet quiet moves to get everyone to do what she wants is terrifying. I don’t have a lot to weigh in on the plot, but I do think that watching it on the second go did a lot more for me to highlight Cora’s abuse and make me realize the quality of the flashback. See, for me, I always felt that Daniel was the main thing for Regina’s revenge about Snow, and I felt on the first go that that was a pretty lackluster approach for such a cool villain because I found Daniel boring (I still do, and I swear that I tried to like him). However, it’s occurred to me recently that this isn’t so much as the main point, but the final straw after a long line of Cora’s abuse. Cora’s abuse is what drives Regina’s character and with this in mind, I went into my rewatch of this episode and found it much more compelling. I mean, all you have to do is look about to see the impact Cora had on me.

Also, as I said before, I don’t like Daniel. I find his character boring and bereft of chemistry with all who he interacted with despite his decent dialogue. Given that a lot of (Not fully, but still a fair amount) Regina’s backstory is dependent on their interactions, it sucks, but I just wasn’t feeling like there was much of a character to connect to.

Finally, I wanted to take this moment to drop a theory I’ve held for a while about this episode. I feel that Regina has a secondary purpose for going after Snow. Now, of course, she blames Snow for Daniel’s death, but that’s lead her to be mislabeled as overly petty. However, I think that that blame has something behind it. Regina doesn’t have magic at this point, and her beloved was taken from her. She has a lot of anger, and no place to responsibly place it. Of course, it belongs with Cora, but Cora just killed her boyfriend and has been magically binding her for quite some time. What chance does Regina have up against someone like that? But Snow? Snow’s just a little kid. Snow’s vulnerable and trusting. Snow was the one to tell the secret. And suddenly, for as wretched as it is, you see how the cogs turn. Present I loved August’s advice to Emma here. Sometimes, I find that skill helpful when I’m writing fanfiction, and the way it fits into the murder mystery was interesting. Their rapport, alongside August’s mystery is a large driving force behind the plot as Emma looks for the way to connect the crime to Regina. They also did a really good job establishing Sidney and then exposing him with that flower pot. For a while, one can forget that it’s there, but once you see it, you know what’s going to happen. Still, the journey to using the plot device was an engaging one. As for the rest of the plot, I cover more of it in “Arcs,” but I found that it was well placed and dramatic. Mary Margaret’s conversation with the DA was especially helpful in reinforcing after last week’s “breather” episode just how bad things are and how important it is that Emma solves this case and fast. Insights -I love watching Rumple and Regina negotiate. Theirs is such an engaging push-and-pull relationship and even in the case of foregone conclusions like the one the audience goes in knowing here, the exact what and how are never what you expect it to be. Because of their power, influence, and shadier dispositions, there’s always something up their sleeves and seeing them poke and prod in search of those secrets is just the best. Also, I love that clash of tones. Regina’s harsh words clash brilliantly with Rumple’s more flowery language. -Hair and makeup really did a wonderful job on the younger Henry Sr.! -”She’s getting a little old for fun.” “Stop coddling her.” I like the implication that Cora’s abuse of Regina started out smaller than it is today and that Henry Sr. was allowed to have a bigger influence on Regina’s development during her childhood. -”I’m not criticising you. I’m helping you.” Holy shit. That is such an abuser line. If it wasn’t coming out of Cora, I’d almost call it heavy handed, but since it s Cora, it’s such a good moment of character establishment. -There’s this great frame where Henry Sr. is walking towards Cora with a face that screams “I’mma kill you if you harm a hair on our daughter!” Even though Henry Sr. was definitely afraid of and overpowered by Cora, it’s clear that he was always on Regina’s side. -The segues on this show between the past and present crack me the fuck up! -In regards to young Snow...HOW DOES THIS SHOW CAST PEOPLE SO PERFECTLY?! -Thank you, Gold for acknowledging the skeleton key! -Gold just has the best expressions during the Q&A with the DA. Every look he gives MM just says “you’re lucky your daughter is breaking this curse.” -Mary Margaret, that’s not true. After Kathryn hurt you, it was your denial of David that kept you two apart. Not saying you were wrong for that you definitely weren’t - but facts are facts. -Regina looks so cute in that blue dress! I’m pretty sure anyone on OUaT can pull off a blue dress! -I love how Henry Sr. reflects both Regina and the audience’s reaction to this horrifying proposal. -So is Daniel just the Mills’ family’s stable boy or both theirs and Snow’s family’s stable boy? -Regina unknowingly gave Snow and Charming the perfect lyrics to their big show-stopping musical number about how they’d overthrow her! XD -I love Regina’s suit in the warrant scene. Red and black - despite her rocking blue as well - are totally her colors! -That whole sequence of Cora trapping Regina and Daniel in the stable reminded me of The Haunted Mansion! -Snow looks so cute in her flower girl dress! -So, the camera doesn’t show Regina’s face as she’s telling Snow how Daniel ran away, but you can just hear the pain behind the monotone in her voice solely because of how different it is from the rest of her lines. Regina’s lines usually host such passion and ferocity, but here, she’s bereft of it. Arcs Kathryn Nolan Case - So, we sort of come to an ending here. Now all that’s left to find out is the “who-dunnit,” so to speak. Personally, I found the case itself boring as well as the conversations about the proceedings. That said, in a way, I’m glad we had it. I’ve seen fics without it happening and they leave David and Mary Margaret with so little to do. Besides, we got some really good character moments because of it, mostly those that go through Emma and I feel comfortable saying that this doesn’t have to do with the fact that Emma is my favorite character because for everyone else (Barring Rumple and Regina who also had amazing interactions), the events of this arc for everyone else become completely irrelevant going forward. Emma and her interactions (Barring those of the other awake people’s) are the only moments that retain prevalence for their characters in the future That’s not a problem: The character moments still stand out - I still adore everything with Ruby and the scene with MM and David in the jail cell was powerful - but it needs to be accounted for. The Mystery of August Booth - We finally get those first glimpses of Pinocchio. It reminded me a lot of Michael’s symptoms in Season 3 of Jane the Virgin. They’re so small that you forget about them with the plot, but as they happen, they make you wonder just what it is. Why throw in a splint? ...I guess we should say a splinter! XD Favorite Dynamic Snow and Cora. I know these two only had one scene together, but damn, it was a good one! When Cora talks to Snow, she’s so warm and very much like a grandmother in the way she speaks, and you can see through Snow’s expressions just how much that paired with what she’s saying is preying on her still present grief over her mother. It’s like that study about the bullfrogs when the water gradually increases. Snow’s about to hurt her friend, and she doesn’t even recognize that she’s being played because of Cora’s delicate manner of approaching things. Writer Adam and Eddy did a really great job here! They have a way of writing very iconic lines, and  “Love is the most powerful magic of all” has proved itself lasting - both in verbal and song form! XD In addition, A&E know how to make a villain sympathetic while not forgetting that they’re evil and following through on that. I’ve seen a lot of bad writing of villains (And some of it comes from OUaT too) where they just throw a sob story on a villain and then just flip a switch from villain to hero, but Regina still retains her villainy  even as we’re learning about her tragedies, and that makes her feel more alive! Rating 9/10. I love all of the character development we get here. The introduction of Cora gives us that taste of all that’s to come and she’s fucking petrifying, even with the knowledge that she dies! And seeing Regina’s awful childhood really sticks where this resentment of Snow and Mary Margaret is coming from and it makes it glorious! Additionally, the present had a great story too and delivered a cool sort-of ending to the Kathryn Nolan case while giving Emma and August an interesting conflict to work with. I took off a point for Daniel just because of his impact on the story that I actually got compared to what I felt that I needed.  ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Thanks to @watchingfairytales for putting this project together and to everyone who read! I’ll see you next time when we...RETURN! ...These puns don’t get all that subtle. Season Tally (157/220) Writer Tally for Season 1: A&E (50/70) Liz Tigelaar (17/20)* David Goodman (33/50) Jane Espenson (36/60) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (29/40) Daniel Thomsen (8/10)* Vladimir Kvetko (9/10* (* = Their work for the season is complete)

Operation Rewatch Archives

[mermaidfan76]

Homeless Autistic Girl

Hey guys... this really kills me to ask, however right now I’m homeless at the moment.

Technology, I’m living with a long time friend who is hounding me to find a job since she believes it’s just so damn easy and move out by The end of February. I’ve put out application after application and only maybe a couple have called back for an interview. Only for them to tell me the same exact thing over and over, “You don’t seem like you will do well for this job.” With out even giving me a garsh darn chance to show them I’m willing to work my butt off.

Yet, they hire people who are literally ALLERGIC to manual labor, and pay them twice the wage to appease them so they don’t get sued. It pisses me off. I have Autism and PTSD, I watched my mother and fathers beloved dog get run over by a car, I know these people have mommy and daddy’s that coddle them. My parents died on September 22, 2013. My sister’s threw me out in the cold and said I’m on own. I’m still here, sadly. Not one day goes by and I don’t think about giving up and killing myself. Love to give that bayberry (under a new name) Bitch and all the rest what they wanted in the first place! With heartless pieces off shit like them in this world, I definitely don’t feel it’s worth the aggravation!

You push, you kick, you fight, you bite, you bunch, but guess what you end up someone else’s lunch! It’s survival of the fittest and you’ve won the game if you have Money, Fame, and/or Power! Just 1 on these gives you the right to control poor peoples lives!

You can play the advocate for good all day, but turning a blind eye to the innocent people that are truly in pain by the very people you are advocating for. Who’s the real villain? Saying the people who did nothing deserve it because someone said its poetic revenge... read a book. Get your facts straight, you really think they would attack now? Why didn’t they attack back then? People don’t postpone revenge -_-...

(if I had a grudge against a person, I’d want to get them now, not expect my descendants to attack his descendants. 1. How do I know if they’ll follow through? 2. What if everything is patched up and my other descendants didn’t know that and still desire to take their revenge? (They don’t even know what the whole argument is about... could be about stealing the last slice of pizza) This is about taking over the world just like before! We stopped them once! They’re trying again, however they fooled you!)

So with politics, islamphopia (more like not wanting an ideology of woman haters who desire to take over any free country and turn it to a world of oppression and insanity), racism (a political term used when a white person doesn’t agree with you), feminist (because women are oppressed because they have tits and a vigina), fatphopia (because veggies don’t taste like cake, if they did we’d still become fat, why? Because we’d get sick of sweets and want savory tasting veggies that you only get from cake... oh the irony), LBGT without Q (Queers are just feminist men who are really flamboyant gays... and real gays try to avoid, ever heard the term, “Queer as a Clock work Mouse.” Man I miss my English mother! The LBG, The Les, The Bi, and The Gay, do as you wish... Hey I’m you Bi, I find shapely girls just Be A U Ti Ful to draw, have to get that full body motion. Gays, love ya, best guy friends and you give perfect fashion advice, Lesbians, you’re very easy going and easy to talk to, al yal are A O Kay in my book. Trans, um... look umm... I’m female... I have more of a male mind... we can find common ground here can’t we?) and that’s what I go through everyday. Half the words I’m called... how do they apply to me? Like racist? I judge by character, not by skin tone.

(All I see is another human being in front of me. If you act like you’re above a human being, than I’ll treat you the way you treat me. Not one human is above another. If you have earnt that privilege than you are granted that only by the people who gave you such power, however they have the power to take it away. That is the true purpose of the second Amendment! In short; “a president is a civil servant to the people of his/her country that he/she has sworn to protect! As such nothing is beneath them!”)

I really wish people would do their homework...

My friend I was talking about earlier; well she’s not only getting on my case about finding a job, but she’s also pissing me off about politics. Her plan is to be an American History Teacher. She wants to teach her class how America was founded on the “Socialistic” Principles we use today and that’s bullshit! We wouldn’t have many of our largest company products that I bet everyone of you see every single day, more than likely every minute of your day.

(For Starters:

Let’s start off with Ford, if America was a Socialistic Society, well then all of you who drive a Ford let alone a car in general, would walk everywhere. If it wasn’t for Ford’s Model T being a Successful test run clearing the way to Model A. Ford’s company could only up from there. (Btw: anyone who drives the VMW Bug- just a little trivia for you did you know that the original design was created by Adolf Hitler himself? Adolf Hitler was the original Designer for the shape of that car the VMW Bug, just a little tid pit I know from Graphic Design School, hope that doesn’t ruin your VMW driving experience:D)

Another one I’d like to point out: McDonald’s, that famous Golden Arches fast food places started as a ma and pa rest stop, now it’s one of the biggest fast food chains in the world! Mickey D’s started again in America! Again how is that possible in a Socialistic society?

Socialism is structured to where everyone is equal... equal pay... equal healthcare... equal quality of living... doesn’t count the politicians! In this system if you work you’re an idiot. Those who sit on their ass get everything handed to them, those who work their asses off barely survive. So why bother putting yourself through that much torture. Because:

No one working:

No power

No cable

No doctors

No teachers

No police

No food

No safety

No security...

Why? This would have been a good thing! This here proves Socialism doesn’t work!

If everyone decided to not work because they’re getting ripped off; than America shuts down! The government is screwed! And so are the moochers!)

Those are only two examples of capitalism being a good thing.

There is so much more... not to mention the feminist aspects like Susan B. Anthony: Voicing her “opinion” by voting for who she thought would be a good president. Of course the judge was going to let her off with a warning because “woman privilege” (woman today would be like okay and do it again), however she, Susan B. Anthony, A Real Feminist, (no Feminist is an insult to her, She a Real Woman, The Genuine Wonder Woman!) demanded she was sentenced to jail just like any man who broke the law! (Please oh please can we do that to these modern, pussies who call themselves women!) The first woman to fly a plane over the pacific Amelia, or the women who rose up against unjust treatment Rosa Parks, I mean come on. Worst of all is, she’s being taught tha John Wilkes Booth was Republican and Abraham Lincoln was Democrat... and it’s reversed. There’s a saying the liberals came up with: “if those damn n$&@€ must vote then they should only vote Democrat!”

My friend has become heartless and greedy, I’m in a fucked up spot because of a malicious brat who played innocent and didn’t understand what happens when you compromise. It’s not one side surrenders and the other gains, but what do I expects from the preppy college school type, (not all preppy girls are mean, I just have this personality that sends the wrong vibes and makes them more territorial)AKA mean girl type... however, this girl demanded everything goes her way or else. She’s from Georgia, yet she comes to higher elevation part and in the middle of the US, it’s winter yet she expects sunshine and beaches? All of us to be drinking out of a coconut? Yes, her hair is blonde at the roots, and she smokes pot in the apartment. Kind of gives you a clue on the person she is. Of and her Boy Toy is always there... when I stayed there. She blamed me for her messes, and her food she didn’t eat. Thing is I hate fish. Well another one to count she has a low IQ from the Mercury poisoning... and here I thought fish helped with brain development.

Anyway, it was hell, so my friend volunteered on the condition that I find a job and move out ASAP. I’m tryin as hard as I can here.

Being told no everywhere I go is very discouraging. I’ve made a gofund me campaign to maybe to maybe help a little... I don’t expect anyone to donate really... if anyone could click the link and share it to a friend they know and spread it around.

By February the only place I’ll be staying is my car on the side of the road... just sharing the story helps. Thank you.

<link>https://www.gofundme.com/homeless-autistic-girl<link>

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | forty-seven

“So—how are we doing this week, Beija?”

Dr. Masri’s office seemed to be almost identical to Dr. Hill’s—the soft and calming colors of the walls were something almost sedative to the senses, and considering the woman’s line of work, she probably did that on purpose. Photos of her past work around the world aligned the walls, from working with children and women traumatized by war in the middle east to working through philanthropic efforts in Eastern Asia and Africa. Her furniture, unlike the soft and creamy walls, were pops of bright oranges and teals. She seemed just as warm as her furniture—she was short and shapely, only being a couple inches taller than Beija. Her long hair was always braided down her back but today, it was piled on her head in a bun. Her rich brown skin and round cheeks gave her an almost youthful look, but judging by the numerous college degrees upon her walls, she was more than likely in her mid-50s at the least.

“We’re doing okay. Been doing he morning meditation as you asked me to. I still take my quiet times during Janiya’s naps. I stick to my medication and I pretty much write down everything I need to,” Beija held up her notebook that served as her journal. “I finally made my decision about having more children with Jermaine,” She added.

“Oh? And what did you tell him?” The woman asked.

“I decided that I was ready. It was never a question of whether or not I wanted more children...it was if I was mentally ready,” Beija sat her notebook in her lap, looking out the window at the flurry of buildings that cluttered the downtown area. The rain was trickling down, leaving a soft and rhythmic patter against the floor to ceiling window. The sky was a murky grey color, and the sun seemed to struggle to push through the swollen clouds. Even with such gloomy weather, Beija’s mood didn’t align with it. Her neutrality seemed to be pushing through for the moment.

“I remember we spoke of this last session. You had a complicated delivery with your daughter and you said that you feared going through that a second time,” Dr. Masri reminded.

“Yes. I also fear that something bad will happen even if they are born ‘correctly,’” Beija admitted.

“And this is caused by the loss of your brother, right?” Beija nodded at Masri’s assumption, and the woman wrote down some more notes. “We’ve already established that you have a fixation with control—how have you been able to deal with that?” She asked.

“I have been relying more upon my faith, mostly...” Beija began before she tucked some hair behind her ear. “I have been praying more. I talked to my mother and my friend about this; my mother told me something interesting. That some trials are for God to teach me something and no0t just to inconvenience me. That not everything is Satan trying to hurt me,” She responded.

“I find that to be an important piece of advice! Some people do believe that when bad things happen, an even force must be blamed for it. Sometimes it’s really just the universe trying to build you up for something better,” Masri explained, taping the end of her pen against her thigh quickly. “Also, it’s good to trust yourself in situations like this. We let the chatter of science and probability get in the way of the human body. We are intricate beings...we can do so much more than we could ever imagine,” She said.

“Hm...I’m sure that’s true. But even with that said, I still have to deal with my depression. Even if everything goes right, there’s a chance that I might slip into another episode. Even though I’m already going through motherhood, my mind can still mess with me,” Beija said softly. “I’m trying to lean more upon my husband because I know he will be there for me, but...”

“But?”

“I can’t help but to feel like I am putting too much on him,” Beija ran a hand over her hair before she huffed. “And I get it—we exchanged vows, so we made the promise to each other to carry each other’s burdens. But there’s so much that he may be feeling that he won’t tell me,” She said.

“He keeps secrets from you?” Masri asked, and Beija shook her head slowly.

“Well not...secrets,” She began. “He recently put out an album—it’s our story. It’s things he felt about me from when we met, to when I told him about Rashaad, my suicide attempt, our wedding, our daughter...everything we went through, good and bad,” Beija looked out the window again. “I am an advocate for honesty, so I’m not angry with him about that. But I felt like I was the ‘last’ to know. I experienced his emotions when everyone else did. I feel like I should be his diary—sure, his music is his own therapy...but I’m his wife, right? I should know,” She sighed.

“Maybe Jermaine doesn’t want to feel like he is placing too much upon you either,” Masri wrote down some more notes as she spoke. “From what you tell me and from the group sessions that we have had, you two are very alike. That can sometimes serve to you two clashing,” She said.

“Okay, I mean that’s fine but I’m almost 29 years old. He’s about to be 34. We’re not children—I’m not a child. I don’t need to be coddled. If he feels something, I want him to express it to me,” Beija sighed softly. “But that’s something I have to speak to him about. I can’t expect him to depend on me either if I won’t depend on him,” She said.

“I think that’s truly insightful—you can’t ask for anything you can’t give,” Masri said before she glanced down at her watch. “Well, that’s all we have for this session,” The two women stood up before shaking hands. “You’re doing a great job here, Beija. Same time next week?”

“Same time next week.”

Beija left the office before she approached the nurse’s desk, paying for the session and setting up the next appointment. She fixed her purse upon her shoulder before she took her umbrella from inside it. Once she walked outside she opened her umbrella, glancing around before she hurried to her car. She slipped inside before starting up the car and once she was secured, she headed through the slick streets before she made a stop at the hair salon that she usually went to. She had an appointment to get her hair done, so now it was time to fulfill that.

She stepped out of the car and headed inside before she took a look around, walking over to the receptionist. “Hey Leona,” Beija greeted the woman at the desk.

The head full of blue and black rope braids glanced up before giving Beija a bright smile. “Hey, girl! You here to see Mia?” She asked, and Beija nodded. “Her last client just left so go on in,” She said, and Beija gave a smile before she waked through towards the main salon area.

The salon wasn’t full of people as usual due to the weather, but it was just enough to seem like there was some life inside the place. Beija laid eyes on her usual beautician, and she smiled before the two shared a hug. “Hi there Mimi. How are you?” She asked.

“I’m great, despite this fucking weather,” Mia flipped her hair over her shoulder as Beija took a seat, sitting her purse in her lap. “So what are we doing today? Deep condition and a twist?” She asked.

“Uhm...” Beija bit her lip for a moment as Mia turned her chair so that she was facing the mirror. “I want you to cut it,” She said.

“Wait...what? Like, all of it?” Beija nodded, and Mia sucked her teeth. “Lady, are you out your mind? I haven’t seen anyone with hair as healthy as yours! You’ve been growing this for how long?” She asked.

“Nearly 29 years now,” Beija said, and she licked over her lips before she shook her head. “But maybe that’s the problem. I want something different. I can grow it back if I choose to, but I wanna cut it...” She nodded with finality. “Chop it off, Mia.”

“Well...you’re the customer,” Mia shrugged. “What style, boo?” She asked as she decided to grab the clippers first.

“I was thnking like Toni Braxton...maybe like her first album. Or...shit, maybe like Nia Long? I don’t know,” Beija laughed softly. “Wait...no. Do Toni, but when she got older. I need just enough that if I wanna slick it down, I can. Or if I want curls, I can have that,” She explained.

“Good choice. Let’s do this!” Mia exclaimed.

Once Mia cut Beija’s hair, she washed, conditioned, and curled it properly. Once Beija got to look at her hair, she was floored at how different she looked—she realized just how round her face was, but the cut seemed to compliment the shape of her face and head. She had spent so many years growing her hair, and it was a staple of her being. But maybe this was what she needed. She wanted to do something different and this was one way to do it. After paying for her haircut and style, she went by the local spa and got a facial, manicure and pedicure before returning home. She just felt like taking care of herself for the day.

Once she returned home, she walked through the garage door, hearing Janiya and Gina talking to one another. “Gina? I’m home,” She called out.

“Oh, hey! I just fed Janiya some lunch and...oh wow!” Gina squealed in excitement when she saw Beija’s hair. “You look gorgeous! I can’t believe you cut your hair,” She laughed.

“Yeah,” Beija ran a hand over the side of her head slowly, looking up in the mirror before smiling lightly. “I like it, though. It’s always good to change it up. What do you think, Niya?” She asked her dau0ghter, who was staring up at her.

“Wow,” Niya had learned a new word, and just like Jermaine, she stretched the word out dramatically. Beija laughed before she pecked the girl off of the couch to hold her. “Pretty,” She smiled.

“Thank you,” Beija laughed before kissing the tip of her nose.

Once Beija paid Gina for her time, she spent some time hanging out with Janiya before she laid the girl down for a nap. During that time, Beija got to work on the first event for the ‘Forever Boy Project.’ As she had told her mother, she wanted to make a charitable organization to bring relief to the families of victims of police brutality and violence. It was a bit easy to get it started due to it being a subordinate to the Dreamville Foundation, but the overall success would be up to Beija herself. She already had event planned—a masquerade event for Halloween, a Food Drive before Thanksgiving, and a Toy Drive before Christmas. But the two big events that Beija had to bring together for the new year was a weekend festival for the end of March, and the ‘Freedom Festival,’ the Fourth of July celebration that she had spoken to Alisha about. She wanted everything to go perfectly, and with the resources she had acquired, she was slowly getting everything together.

“Babe?” Her ears perked up when she heard the door open and the sound of Jermaine’s voice.

“Living room,” She said, and she stayed quiet as she continued to type away on her laptop.

“I wasn’t sure if you ate so I swung by the seafood spot and got you that alligator plate you liked...wow,” Beija looked back at Jermaine, who was staring at her as if he had just seen a ghostly figure. “I...wow. Your hair,” He walked over and sat next to her.

“What do you think? Not too bad, huh?” She said before she ran her hand over it briefly. “I wanted something new, and...I’ve been growing and caring for my hair literally all my life. It was time for something more...grown up,” She laughed.

“Shit...I do like it. It’s just a shock,” He chuckled a bit as he gently tugged at her ear. “You got round ears. And a round face. It’s cute,” He teased, laughing when she smacked his chest.

“Fuck off,” She laughed before she opened up the bag of food, and took a whiff of it before she grabbed a piece of fried alligator before popping it into her mouth, chewing quickly. “Okay so—here’s all the plans I drew up. We can have a charity masquerade ball on October 27th. Then the Food Drive the day before Thanksgiving, then the Toy Drive about two weeks before Christmas,” She explained.

“That sounds legit. This is for FBP, yeah?” He asked, and she nodded. “And what about for the 4th nest year? I need to know so I can take those days off the tour,” He explained.

“I got the groundwork done for the Freedom Festival. I was also thinking we could have another festival in March—Coachella is cute and all but fuck all that. I want to have something for us...something we can host, and it can be for charity. I already called up Shawn, Bey, and Robyn; they said once the plans are finalized they’d be on board. If I can get some more big names it’d definitely have a huge turnout,” She said.

“I fuck with it. I like all these ideas, baby. I’m proud of what you’re doing already,” She smiled as she felt J’s lips against her cheek. “How was your day, though? Did therapy go well?”

“Yeah, it went as good as it could go,” Beija sat back against the couch as she pulled her food carton into her lap, popping a French fry into her mouth before she glanced up at him. “I know I don’t usually talk about my sessions but...I wanna talk to you about something. It’s kind of been bothering me,” She said softly.

“What’s up?” He asked as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“I feel like...why didn’t you tell me everything you were feeling? Like, from the album,” She began. “I know you said that you can’t always voice what you feel the way you want to but—I felt like I was blindsided a bit. I found out how you felt like the rest of the world. I felt like I was being treated like a fan and I kinda feel some type of way,” She explained.

“I didn’t know you would feel like that...” J trailed off before he sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know that would hurt your feeli0ngs. Sometimes I just don’t feel like bothering you with shit like that. You already go through enough, and—...”

“And that’s the problem right there,” Beija cut him off. “I know that I’ve been through a lot; I was there. I experienced it. I know you like to think that you can imagine what I feel or what I am really going through, but you can’t. Even if I told you everything I felt from top to bottom, I still can’t make you0 fully understand. Even with that said, Jermaine—I am your wife. Despite all that I endure, I exchanged vows with you...I deserve to be told what is wrong with my husband if he is bothered with something,” She frowned before shaking her head. “I’m not the same 24-year-old that you met...you’ve known me long enough to know that at this point in our relationship I feel entitled to your truth, no matter how ugly it is,” She explained.

“Okay, that’s fair. So I want to be granted the same courtesy, then. You don’t tell me everything either,” Jermaine argued.

“Okay but...what you deal with and what I deal with are two different things...I mean, I get what you’re saying completely, but you have a whole career to worry about,” She said.

“You’re basically upset with me for doing the same thing you are doing for the exact same reason though, Beija. That doesn’t make sense,” J tilted his head as he looked at her. “You have a career just like I do, baby. You work just like me. And to add to that, you have a mental issue—I take all of that into account when I decide what to tell you or what not to tell you. I know how you are and how you think, so I stay considering you. That’s the only reason why I look to the notebook to spill everything. The notebook can’t react,” He explained.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jermaine? Like you’re almost making it seem like I can’t handle the truth,” Beija was becoming a bit offended. Even if everything Jermaine was saying was true, she still felt as if she was being fed a sugar-coated version of the truth and it didn’t sit well with her.

“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” He countered. “You know exactly what I mean. If I tell you something, who’s to say you won’t spiral because you think it’s your fault? You blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault and you do it often, so sometimes it’s hard to determine what is safe to tell you. I do not want to be the reason your mood dips or you have an episode, so I try to keep that in mind, Beija. That’s really the beginning, middle, and end of all of it. It ain’t got shit to do with what I think you can and can’t handle,” He said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Beija’s tone came off snarkier than she intended.

“If I wasn’t sure you could handle the truth, I wouldn’t have married you,” Jermaine returned the attitude before he stood up from the couch. “You’re in a shitty mood now, so I’mma give you your space for right now. I’m going to take a shower.”

Beija sighed softly before she silently ate her food, shaking her head before she sank into the couch. Even if Jermaine was right, she still felt like she deserved the truth about his feelings. What was she going to therapy and doing all this extra shit for if he couldn’t do the same? That’s all she could think about as she sat and ate her food. Maybe there could have been a different way to approach him about it, but at the moment her mood wouldn’t allow her to see it any way else. Lord knew that she loved that man, but he could be such a hardheaded mule at times.