if i saw this is real life i would have a breakdown in the street

midnight luxe {part 6}

[gif credit]

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fashion designer au

wordcount: 4k

summary: Your life was nothing but a drag until you met Jeon Jungkook, the alluringly beautiful fashion design student who asked you to model for his upcoming runway show. Soon you find yourself pulled into his eccentric group of friends and their enticing world of fashion, sex and music, a world that may ultimately leave your heart in pieces.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

“Okay, now hold on to me and try not to fall,” he said softly, his hand was hovering nearby, an invitation for you to grab hold of it. You reached out and squeezed it tightly as if that would somehow aid your balance.

“I can’t do this,” you murmured. You furrowed your brows and squeezed his hand just a little too hard out of frustration. His skin was soft and his fingers were beautifully decorated with an assortment of rings that perfectly matched the baby blue colour of his nail varnish, as if he’d coordinated it all. Knowing Jimin, he probably had.

“Yes you can, it just takes a bit of practice, that’s all,” he reassured again. You were sure he must be getting sick of this by now, but he didn’t complain once. You didn’t think you’d ever met anyone as gentle as him, his patience seemed to be infinite.

“These heels are so high, how is any normal human meant to walk in them?” you asked as you stumbled across the floor, leaning on him to try and balance yourself, “Can’t I just wear flats for the fashion show?”

Immediately, he gave you a look that clearly said absolutely not. It had been a long shot of course, but worth a try. Your legs felt shaky and awkward, like a newborn deer, you knew there was nothing elegant or model-like about the way you helplessly clung onto Jimin’s clothing as you attempted to walk. As stupid as it sounded, you hadn’t properly considered the technicalities of doing a runway walk. Needless to say, reality had definitely slapped you hard in the face today. You were starting from square one.

When you finally made it across the room, you let go of him and allowed your body to slowly fall to the floor. You stared down at your shoes. They were black,  had a large platform and heels that added an impressive amount of inches to your height.

“Well, you’ve certainly got the diva aspect of being a model right,” Jimin said with a giggle. He crouched down so that he was level with you. You appreciated his efforts to raise your spirits, “Y/N, the first step of being a real model is learning how to walk like one. After that it’s easy.”

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Summary: After a nightmare about your ex, you start to rethink what happened in your relationship and try to get some closure.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2629

Warnings: Aganst, All flashbacks are in italic and there is some fuffly lost in there.

A/N: So this fic is extremely personal, I never wrote anything like this so I hope you enjoy.

I can not even thank you enough this time @drinkfantasy , you rock and I love you

Originally posted by pxggycxrters

You wake up, sweat all over your body and with your heart pounding in your chest. For a few seconds your mind try to understand what just happened, than you know. You just had a nightmare, not just any nightmare but one with your ex-boyfriend.

Details of the nightmare are useless, the only thing that matters is that he was there in your mind… again. It was normal for you to have nightmares; you used to have them all the time when growing up, as an adult they were less frequent but more brutal and they are usually about Bucky.

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Love Is Not A Victory March

I’m sorry that this is not a prompt (I promise I haven’t abandoned them) but I had this idea in my mind after yesterday’s episode and I just had to write it. I don’t even know what this is, I’m just an angst addict, so yeah that’s pretty angsty but truly romantic at the end.

Silver heels clicked rhythmically down the brick steps of Pop’s entrance, halo blonde hair swaying in the wind and a sea of Evening Haze satin leaving a trail of feminine elegancy with every determined step she took. At that very moment Betty Cooper looked like a heroine straight out of a John Hughes movie; effortlessly beautiful, politely innocent and a heartbreaking damsel in distress, ready to be swiped off her feet by her lovely prince charming in the form of the misunderstood high school loner. However, reality was far from that. She didn’t need to be saved. This time, it was the misunderstood high school loner that sought salvation, that needed more than ever a heroine that would grab his hand while drowning and pull him to surface again, away from his demons, away from the darkness that seemed to surround his golden soul. Betty could, would, be that heroine for him.

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request: 66, 69 and 70! where she’s having a mental breakdown but doesn’t want Harry to help, lots of fluff and then both of them cry? X love you xo &  66 and 67

hello loves! i decided to combine these two requests since they had one number overlap, and i didn’t want to have to have the requester wait for what they wanted! but i did change the second request slightly because i saw it going in a different direction, but i think it turned out alright! anyways, send in requests! hope you enjoy!

Why the hell do people cheat? I mean what’s the point? You could talk to your partner, say it’s just not working anymore, then go screw someone an hour later if you’re having that temptation. It makes no sense, especially after you had your boyfriend cheat on you. You were never the type of girl to feel helpless, like you needed someone around you to make you feel better about an event that happened. When you did had those moments, you would never tell anyone. Just text someone asking if they wanted to hangout. Usually, they would never know what was going on, so there distracting topics were comforting to your issues. But being cheated on was something you had to tell your friends, even if you didn’t want there comfort. You called your childhood best friend first, seeing as you and her had been through everything together. She knew that you wouldn’t want to get into anything, so she just stuck to saying she was sorry, then coming over to get you some ice cream. You were feeling far to embarrassed to let anyone know yourself, so you told Skye that she could let whoever she thought was necessary to tell.

She only told your closest friends, one of them being Harry. He was so enraged when he was told what that prick did to you. Skye told him to not do anything, as you were clearly hurting and didn’t need drama, so he stayed away from him. Harry was a tad bit hurt that you had someone give him the message, but he realized that the hurt you were going through was way worse than his. He sent you a supportive text, telling you that your ex was an asshole and clueless to cheat on you. You appreciated him reaching out to you, but you were in no mood to communicate to the outside world. You wanted to wallow. So you did for about a week before Skye decided that all of your friends needed to cheer you up.

“Y/N! Sarah, Mitch, Rachel, and Harry are here!” Skye shouted up the stairs. How many people did she invite? You got up and out of bed, but not without your blanket that would hopefully shield your emotions. You walked down the stairs to hear whispering coming from the living room; Skye catching them up on how you’re doing.

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Political Animals-Part 12

This is an A/B/O AU.  You are the Omega artist daughter of Naomi Novak, a world-class heart surgeon who is running for Mayor of New York City.  After a meeting where your mother’s advisers call you a “liability”, she tells you that if you don’t do as your told she will cut you off.  You storm out and wind up in a bar a few blocks away.

The hottest Alpha you have EVER laid eyes on with a scent so mouthwatering you’re practically drooling offers to buy you a drink.  It’s just a drink, right? What do you have to lose? Only everything.

Characters: Omega! Reader, Beta! Naomi Novak, Alpha! Castiel Novak, Omega! Meg Novak, Claire Novak, Jimmy Novak, Alpha! Sam Winchester, Alpha! Dean Winchester, Alpha! John Winchester, Omega! Jo Harvelle

Big thanks to @moansmisha  for letting me use some of her ideas from this post.

A/N: So I was having trouble deciding if I should write this or the next part of the Contest. I decided to ask my pal Leigh ( @skybinx-blog ) to decide for me. She picked this.  So here ya go, Binx!

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Parts in bold are text messages

The first thing I remember were the voices.  One of them was Sam’s, and he sounded upset.  I could tell he clearly wasn’t happy with what the other person was telling him.  I struggled to follow the conversation but all I heard were bits and pieces. “…….very lucky…….”   “……concussion……”  “…arm fracture…”

I tried to open my eyes, but everything hurt.  I couldn’t identify specifically where the discomfort was coming from. The more I tried to focus, the more I felt the saturating, all-encompassing pain.  I couldn’t hold back my groans of distress.

“I have something that will help with the pain.” a different voice said. I felt a cool numbness, and I struggled to stay awake, but the tide pulled me under, and I finally gave in.

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For all of my asexual followers: Happy asexual awareness week! ♡  (October 23rd - October 29th)

[Ace!Castiel, High school AU, friends to lovers.]

‘You’re the only one I’ll ever want, be mine! Please go to prom with me, Castiel Novak.’

Castiel knew that he was looking like a complete fool, standing there in the middle of the field with his mouth hanging open. In the background, the marching band started playing 'All You Need Is Love’ while the cheerleaders kept waving the banners that were spelling out the proposal.

A proposal made by football captain Dean Winchester after a successful game. Dean, Castiel’s best friend for years now, as well as his unreachable crush. Or at least that’s what Castiel had always assumed, that his feelings for Dean were one sided. Yet here they were, in front of the entire school, people cheering from the bleachers; Castiel suspected that his brother Gabriel was one of them.

And then there was Dean, down on one knee, gazing up at him with pleading green eyes, a faint blush touching his freckled cheeks. Castiel knew Dean well enough to know that Dean was seconds away from having a nervous breakdown, and Castiel realized that of course, he was supposed to say 'yes’. Which should be easy, because every cell in Castiel’s body was all but screaming at him to indeed blurt out what could possibly be the most important 'yes’ of his entire life.

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Time: Chapter 8

Summary: Soulmate!AU/Reincarnation!AU. Female!Reader lives in a world where alien invasions and hordes of death robots occur and past lives and soulmates are very real. Like most people, she gets brief glimpses of her past. although a person’s past lives and their current life may have little to nothing in common, soul mates tend to transfer between lives, the core of a person staying the same throughout the eons.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: ~3,586

A/N: Although it would make my job easier, I never want to belittle Sharon Carter in how I write her. No matter what anyone says she’s a badass and essential to the Civil War story line. Besides, why would you want your romantic rival to be a pushover? Where’s the drama and passion in that? Same deal with Nat.

Also, sorry this took so long. I have no excuse except that I’m lazy trash. I wanted your time in the base to feel like this, but I think it felt more like this.

Translations: Tut mir leid, ich warte auf jemanden - Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Originally posted by piscesandpercy

“It’s not him, Maren,” you said, standing up abruptly. You made a move to grab the paper, but she backed away from you.

“Get away from me. You could be working with him for all I know,” she said, chin shaking with fear.

“Maren, you know me. Please, just-”

“Is that why you always spoke English around me? So I couldn’t understand what you were plotting?” she balked, pulling out her phone.

“I haven’t plotted anything, Maren!” you said, distraught. How could she suspect you of plotting the assassination of UN officials from your produce stall in Romania? “Please,” you said, eyes pleading.

She glared at you as she called the hotline number, face resolute. You swore and ran out of the stall, one thought on your mind.

You had to find Bucky.

You snatched a paper from a newsstand as you ran, eyes scanning the page for any information that might help you. According to the report, the Avengers weren’t authorized to take part in the capture of Bucky.

You knew that wouldn’t stop Steve, though. You gasped, suddenly remembering you still had his number on your American phone. You thanked yourself for deciding to carry it around with you, just in case. You yanked it out of your bag and powered it on. The screen blinked to life after a moment. It adjusted to the date and time and the full battery bar flashed at you and you were once again thankful you’d thought enough ahead to keep it charged.

All at once, your phone was barraged with texts from a number you vaguely recognized. One flashed across the screen and you saw the words “It’s Steve.” You quickly dialed the number attached to the text, looking around in panic. Everyone around you went about their day normally, not noticing you were inches away from a breakdown. The phone rang and rang until eventually you got Steve’s voicemail. At least you assumed it was. You recognized the pompous voice of Tony Stark. He had apparently recorded Steve’s voicemail for him. You didn’t pause to listen to the sarcastic remarks he made, hitting the end call button with a frustrated groan.

If Steve wasn’t picking up his phone, there was a damn good reason… or he was technologically inept, which was also pretty likely. He was nearly a hundred years old now, after all. You fought the urge to smash the phone onto the pavement, instead choosing to try and think through the situation.

You had to get to Bucky and warn him before someone else found him. If they truly believed that he was the UN bomber like the reports said he was, they weren’t liable to take him in quietly, especially with his history as the Winter Soldier.

Shit. Think, (Y/N), think. If I were Bucky where the hell would I live to hide from the world government? You racked your brain for somewhere in Bucharest that fit that description. He didn’t own a house. He needed somewhere he could lay low. He had to pay for everything in cash, so the place he stayed would have to allow rent payment in cash. From the research you did for your aunt you knew only a few places allowed that, but they were scattered across the city. It would take you hours to search all of them and that was if you were even allowed into the complexes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a large military vehicle speed across the cross street. Your stomach plummeted. You stared after it for a second before you raced after it. You’d never seen a truck like that before in your two years of living in the city. You couldn’t see inside, but if you could you knew you’d see soldiers. They knew he was here.

The part of the city it was headed towards was quieter. You lost sight of it pretty quickly, but others followed after it. Due to glimpses of them through alleys and around corners, you were able to guess where they were headed. It was an older part of town, but was close to an airfield. You were running down a quiet  side street when someone grabbed your arm and yanked you into the alleyway.

“Shit!” you exclaimed before a hand clapped over your mouth. Your assailant spun you around and, if not for the hand still over your mouth, you would have announced to the entire neighborhood that Nick Fury was in the alleyway by screaming his name in surprise.

“Can you keep it down?” he asked, raising a critical eyebrow at you. You nodded your head vigorously and he removed his hand.

“What are you doing here, sir?” you hissed, glancing at the entrance of the alley.

“I still know people in the government. I got wind of this impending shitstorm and was worried you’d get caught in the middle of it, being close to Rogers and all,” he said quietly, leaning back against the wall.

“But I’m not the one in the middle of it! Grant- I mean, Bucky- He’s innocent! I have to get to him to warn him!” you said, anxiety getting the better of you, and made a break for the street. His hand closed around your arm before you made it more than a foot.

“Wait, wait. You’ve been in contact with Sargent Barnes? For how long?” he asked, shocked. You didn’t think the man had ever been or ever would be surprised in his life, but you just proved that wrong.

“I didn’t know for sure that it was him until just now. I thought Bucky was dead, and the man I’ve been spending time with just looked like him,” you said, quaking under the look he gave you.

“You thought it was just some big coincidence that a guy who looks, sounds, and acts exactly like Captain Roger’s former best friend found you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you incredulously.

“Alright well when you put it like that it sounds kinda stupid, but so does believing that a dead guy’s up and walking around, alive as can be!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“You never talked to Steve, did you?” he asked, shaking his head in annoyance.

You shook your head. “I turned my phone off as soon as I left D.C. so he couldn’t track it ” you said, holding up the phone in question.

“Normally I’d tell you that was smart, but, damn, you made Steve’s life so much harder than it had to be. And from the sound of it, you made yours more complicated, too,” he said, glaring from the phone to you.

“Wait, Steve knew Bucky’s alive? This whole time?” you asked, blood draining from your face.

“Yeah, found out the Winter Soldier was Sargent Barnes during the SHIELD take down. He’s been trying to find you ever since, but I’ve been keeping him off your trail. Stupid mistake on my part, apparently. He could have gotten you and his Bucky back in one fell swoop,” he said, crossing his arms as he stared down at you.

You felt like your knees might give out. Something he said earlier nagged at you. “You said something about Steve. He’s here, isn’t he? He’s going after Bucky?” you asked, eyes wide with fear.

Fury sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t here, honestly.”

“I have to go find them,” you said, turning on your heel to run away. Again, he caught your arm and held you in place.

“If you go find them right now you’re more likely to get yourself killed than anything else. The task force has a lot of trained men in there trying to take Barnes down. Rogers will have his hands full keeping him safe. He can’t worry about you, too,” he said, voice apologetic but stern.

“Take him down?” you asked, turning to look at Fury with barely- concealed terror. “As in kill him?”

He sighed, giving you a long, unreadable look before he nodded.

“Let me go,” you said, voice low.

“And what will you do if I do?” he asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

Your jaw clenched as you searched your mind for an answer.

“You don’t even know, do you?” he asked, smirking slightly.

“No!” you yelled, exasperated. He looked around to see if your yelling had attracted any attention, but no one seemed to notice your outburst. “I know I can’t help them in a fight, okay? But I need to get to them, Mister Fury… they mean everything to me,” you said, eyes pleading.

His jaw flexed as he deliberated.  After what felt like an eternity, he pulled out a phone. He tapped the screen a few times, staring down at it with his good eye. “They’re taking them to Berlin,” he said, dropping your hand as he looked up from his phone. “A secure facility along the Havel River. North side. I can’t get you details, but I know someone who can. Meet them at Weißes Hirsch. It’s a pub on the north end of town. Do not go to the base itself. However, If you decide to ignore that part- like I think you will- then definitely don’t talk to that bastard Everett Ross or Tony Stark. Ross’ll try to use you as bait and Tony’s not in the best head space right now.”

He gave you a resigned look as you wrote down the pub’s name. “Thank you,” you said, sincerity clear in your voice.

“Don’t thank me. You three haven’t come out of this alive yet,” he said as he turned to walk away. You didn’t want to waste a second, turning on your heel and running out of the alley towards your aunt and uncle’s home. You had plans to make and little time to make them.

Within the hour you’d packed a duffel bag with any essentials for a week’s travel and booked yourself a bus ticket for Berlin, Germany that left later that evening. You’d be in the city by tomorrow afternoon. You said your goodbyes to your aunt and uncle, promising an explanation for your sudden departure later. Your uncle was nice enough to drive you across town to the bus station.

Originally posted by sheisnot

You slept fitfully on the bus, thoughts not allowing you true rest. You arrived in Berlin around noon and called for a cab to take you directly to the pub, whose name translated to the White Deer. You knew little German, but were able to direct your driver to the well-known pub. As you stepped out of the cab you realized you had no idea who you were looking for or if they were even there. You walked into the pub and your anxiety was assuaged when you laid eyes on a conspicuously inconspicuous redhead at the back of the room. Even though she was dressed casually, you spotted her immediately. You hefted your duffel bag over your shoulder and trudged to her table.

She smiled politely up at you. “Tut mir leid, ich warte auf jemanden,” she said, giving you an apologetic smile.

Originally posted by multifandomimagines-17

“You’re waiting for Nick Fury, right?” you asked. She didn’t so much as flinch as she slowly reached under her jacket for what you assumed was a gun. “Hold on, hold on. He sent me. He told me you could give me some answers about Steve and Bucky,” you said quietly, hoping no one would hear you except her. Slowly she returned her hands back to the top of the table, gun absent, and she motioned for you to sit.

“No offense, but who the hell are you?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Ha, well. No one special. Just someone very concerned for a couple of stupid boys,” you said, placing an elbow on the table and resting your head on your palm.

“What’s your name?” she asked as she looked you over.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you told her. You weren’t sure if it was wise to trust the famous Black Widow with your actual name, but you needed to trust her and she needed to trust you, it seemed.

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Steve mentioned you a few times. At least, he mentioned a (Y/N). What are you doing here?” she asked giving you a hard look.

“Nick Fury told me you might be able to help me.”

“With what?” she asked, looking curious and a bit confused.

“I have to help them. Bucky and Steve. Bucky’s innocent. He’s been with me in Romania for the last two years. He couldn’t have been with me and go on a bombing run in a different country at the same time,” you explained, hoping she would believe you.

“Do you have any proof?” she asked as she leaned back and gave you an unimpressed stare.

You groaned. You were hoping she wouldn’t ask that. “No, he’s paranoid. Didn’t want me to take any pictures of him, even after I promised I’d never post them anywhere. Said phones could be hacked and that it wasn’t me he didn’t trust, but the tech itself,” you said.

“If what you’re saying is true, then you’ll just get yourself into trouble if you say you’ve been with him. They’ll think you’ll be part of the assassinations-”

“I don’t care. Please, I have to help, or at least try. I need to try for both of them. I know Steve’s in deep shit, too, now that he’s helped Bucky. He didn’t do it, Miss Romanoff, and I don’t want Steve to take a fall for it, too,” you pleaded. “And if you don’t help me, I’ll march into that building by myself,” you said, face set in determination.

She leaned forward, suddenly tense, and stared you down. You felt anger rolling off of her. “I am trying to help you. I tried to help Steve, too. I told him going in to save Bucky would only make things worse. He didn’t listen, either, and look where that got him: him, Bucky, and Sam grounded. Criminals,” she seethed.

“Steve had to go in. They had orders to shoot for the kill,” you argued. “At least he’s alive. They both are,” you said, glaring at the woman in front of you.

She sighed, leaning back against the booth. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.”

“Please, let me at least see them,” you pleaded

She stared at you for a long time, deliberating, before she seemed to make up her mind. “If I take you, you can’t speak about any of this to Ross, the Deputy Task Force Commander. He’s completely convinced that Barnes is behind the bombing, and he’s committed to seeing all three of them locked away. He’ll use you to get to them if he has to. Stay away from Tony, too, while you’re at it. Tony isn’t as fanatical about it. He still wants Steve to join them and thinks all the shit that Steve and Bucky have gotten themselves into can be undone by Steve signing the Sokovia accords, but Steve won’t budge. It’s driving Tony insane,” she said, staring at you seriously.

You’d begun nodding your head in agreement before she’d even finished. “Fury already warned me about Ross. I’ll blend into the background; I should fly right under his radar. Same with Stark. I doubt he stops looking at his reflection long enough to notice anyone else, though,” you said, smirking.

Natasha’s face twisted into a grimace. “Tony cares; more than you’d think. But I can see how you’d think that. He’s a humanitarian but also an insufferable ego maniac,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “So, we have a deal?” she asked, holding out a hand.

“Deal,” you agree, shaking her hand once before you both drop your hands. You slide out of the booth and grab your bag from under the table.

“If anyone asks, you’re one of my contacts checking in,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at you as she opened the door to the pub.

“Alright, sweet. Do I get a secret agent alias?” you asked, suddenly excited.

“Do you need one?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at you as she opened the door of a black Audi A4 on the street outside of the pub. She popped the trunk so you could throw your bag in the back.

You shrugged. “I thought I might,” you said as you tossed your heavy duffel in the trunk and hopped in the passenger side.

You saw her roll her eyes as she pulled out of her parking space and began racing off down the street. “Fine, then you’re now Elena Dalca. Don’t bother giving yourself a story. You’re pretending to be a spy, now. They don’t give away information on themselves. People probably won’t even believe that’s your real name on principle. Feel free to change it every time you introduce yourself just to fuck with people,” she said, grinning wickedly.

“Isn’t this base high security? Like, really high security? Will they just let me in?” you asked, unsure.

“They’ll let you in if you’re not carrying any weapons and I tell them to,” she said. She glanced at you, looking you up and down once. “You’re not carrying weapons, right?” she asked.

“No, of course not!” you said defensively.

“Wait, how did you plan on getting in if I didn’t help you?” she asked, giving you a sideways look.

“Well I didn’t have a solid plan yet, but Plan B was getting arrested by the guards,” you said, grimacing.

She groaned. “That doesn’t even count as a plan,” she said giving you an exasperated look as she turned a corner.

You glanced around you as she drove; you were going further into the city. You occasionally spotted the Havel River through the buildings. “No, it really isn’t,” you said, frowning. “But it’s all I had. I can’t very well break into the base with my nonexistent super strength or teleport them out with imaginary magic powers.”

She snorted at that. “You’d be surprised what one normal human can do,” she said, smirking.

“Ok I’m also not a well-trained kickass super spy,” you said. “But I acknowledge your point.”

She smiled at that, but it quickly slid off her face as she rounded the corner.

A huge building towered over the Havel, part of it on one side, more parts on the other. It was connected buy a large sky bridge. What got your attention, however, was the crowd of people running out of and away from the building, their fear and confusion clear even from a block away.

“Guess we won’t have to worry about sneaking you in, now,” she said as she pulled up onto the sidewalk and parked, scattering scared pedestrians. She opened the door and jumped out and you followed suit. “Forget your bag for now, we have bigger things to worry about,” she said, jogging towards the guardhouse. You nodded and followed her.

“I’m guessing this isn’t normal?” you asked, panting as you tried to keep up with her. 

“My definition of normal is a little skewed, but if you’re asking if this is supposed to happen, then the answer is no, it’s not,” she said as she pushed past panicked people. Suddenly she whirled, grabbing your arm. “Stay out here. If there are people attacking the base, you’ll just get yourself killed,” she ordered, turning back towards the building. She pulled out a gun as she ran, face set in determination.

“Wait, Nat- Oh, hell,” you groaned, as she disappeared into the crowd. You glanced around, looking for a way to help. You were unwilling to sit there and twiddle your thumbs, but didn’t feel like walking into death, either.

After you heard an explosion somewhere you couldn’t see in the compound followed by the sound of something huge hitting the river you couldn’t handle being stationary anymore and ran into the building. You gasped when you saw Natasha laying on the floor, gasping as she cradled her neck. A pretty blond was groaning on top of one of the destroyed cafe tables to your left. You ran to the blond first. She was closer. She seemed alright overall, just a bit shaken up. You offered your hand and she grasped it, wincing as you helped her up.

“Thanks,” she said, giving you a small, tight smile. You nodded and ran over to Black Widow, who looked ever worse.

“Natasha, are you alright?” you asked, hands hovering, unsure exactly what was wrong with her. She seemed to be in one piece, which  was a plus.

“Fine,” she croaked out as she stood, stumbling slightly. You wanted to argue that she was not, in fact, fine, but you liked your bones not broken.

“Agent Romanoff, who is this?” came a voice from behind you. You turned around and realized it was the pretty blond you’d just helped up.

“Agent Dalca. She just arrived to report to me, but stumbled upon this mess instead,” Natasha said before you could speak up.

“Got it,” the blond said, apparently buying Natasha’s bullshit story. “Let’s split up. Natasha, you can canvas the upper floors. I’ll go with Agent Dalca to search the lower floors,” she said, turning to head towards the stairs. The building appeared to be on lock down. You sent Natasha a glance, panic barely concealed. Her gaze flicked from you to the blond before she nodded once.

Originally posted by thoranda

“Go with Agent Carter. Here are the keys to the car we drove here, just in case you need a getaway car. It’s not bugged or being GPS tracked, I made sure of it. Don’t go for your stuff without me; you’ll never get back into the building on your own. Stay calm and get back to me asap,” she whispered as she pulled the keys to the car out of her jacket pocket and tossed them to you. You shoved them in your pocket as you ran after Carter and bit back your panic. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Agent Carter pulled open the door and you followed after her, sparing one last glance back at Natasha, who had seemingly vanished. The sight wasn’t comforting. You began searching the levels below the ground floor. If you weren’t so tense, you’d be shocked at how huge the building was. Somewhere through the third level, Sharon got a call. She left you alone to survey the room you’d been searching together and went into the next room, shutting the door behind her.

Only, she was in such a rush she didn’t close it all the way. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, instead trying to use this chance to escape to Natasha, but her words drifted out into the otherwise empty, quiet hallway, and something she’d said made you freeze in your tracks.

“Steve, this is a huge favor-” she hissed, sounding angry and a bit resigned.

Steve? As in… Steve Rogers? She’s on the phone with Steve?

You inched closer to the door as quietly as you could and carefully pushed it open so that you could see her. Her back was turned to you.

Steve must have been talking for a bit. Eventually she spoke again and you strained your ears to make out her words.

“Fine, fine. I get it. You said you need all the gear we took and some stuff for Barnes, too?” A pause, then “Alright, got it. Meet you there. You better be right about all of this,” she said, ending the call.

She turned around and you realized a second too late that you probably should have moved back to the other room. She spotted you watching from the crack in the door and in a flash she’d jumped over the tables in the room, papers scattering to the floor as she went. She wrenched the door open and pulled you inside, throwing you into a table as she slammed the door and locked it. Before you could right yourself, she was on top of you, hand on your throat.

Although she wasn’t completely cutting off your oxygen supply, it was distinctly uncomfortable. “Alright, if you’re an agent of Natasha’s I’m just going to come right out and say it: you’re shit at your job. How much of that did you hear?” she asked, hand squeezing your neck slightly as she glared down at you.

“Enough to know you want to help Steve and Bucky, too,” you choked out, hands clawing at her wrist.

“Help them, ‘too’?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at you.

You nodded as much as you could with her hand around your neck. “‘S why I’m here. Bucky’s innocent. ‘M here t’help ‘im,” you said, gasping. Her grasp on your neck loosened to almost nothing and you greedily sucked in air.

“Steve just said the same,” she said, staring down at you, sounding cautious.

You nodded, trying to ignore the pang in your heart at the way she said Steve’s name. “I’ve seen Bucky every day for the last three months. It wasn’t him who bombed the Accords meeting,” you said, willing her to believe you.

Something clicked in her head. “That’s why you’re here, right? To try and clear Barnes’ name of the bombing? That’s why Natasha helped you get in?” she asked, finally removing her hand from your neck.

“Yes,” you breathed, rubbing your neck tenderly. She stared at you, looking for any signs of deceit. Seeing none, she stood, extending her hand to help you up. How the tables had turned. You took her hand and she helped you to your feet. You watched as she paced the room, thinking.

After a minute she stopped and turned to you. “You heard all of that, right?” she asked.

“Most of it, I think. You were on the phone with Steve. He asked for his gear back, along with new gear for Bucky? It sounds like you’re going to meet him somewhere with it and it’ll likely get you in loads of trouble,” you said.

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s most of it. We need to get Steve and Sam’s gear out of lockup and snag some equipment for Barnes as well. I could use your help, though,” she said, voice filled with trepidation.

“Anything to help them,” you said, determined.

“If you’re willing, you could be a diversion while I get their gear to them. Getting in and out of the vault isn’t the problem right now while everything’s still a mess. It’s getting all the way to them without getting caught. My car is sure to be tracked,” she explained.

“Oh, I think I might have a solution to that,” you said, pulling out the keys Natasha gave you. “I have a car that’s free of tracking devices and bugs, courtesy of Natasha herself. She was using it to sneak around, so I know it’s clean; She wouldn’t let herself be tracked,” you explained. “We can swap cars. I’ll go one way in yours and you’ll go to the boys in the other,” you said, smiling at your ingenuity.

“Not you?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “You seemed so eager to help them a moment ago; I’m a little surprised you don’t want to go to them,” she said, studying you closely.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “And which one of us has a better chance of getting to them if this plan goes awry? The girl who works at a produce stand or the highly trained secret agent?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Yes, I want to help them and, hell, I want to see them again so badly, but no. It has to be you,” you said, tossing her the keys.

She smiled at you, pocketing them. “Alright, it sounds like we have a plan. Let’s go break into a high security vault,” she said, smile widening as your face paled.

“Lead the way, ma’am,” you said, motioning grandly to the door.

“Call me Sharon,” she said as she unlocked the door. “Sharon Carter.”

“I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Turns out Sharon was right. Everything was in chaos. The men that had been guarding the vault were still knocked out or dead from the earlier attack. According to Sharon, a man had posed as the doctor sent to psychoanalyze Bucky and had somehow reverted him back into the Winter Soldier. He’d wreaked havoc on the place and then disappeared into the Havel River with Steve. In the confusion, Sam had escaped with them. Forces were focused on finding them, not defending the now mostly empty building. While you and Sharon searched you’d stumbled across a black duffel that you knew could be easily confused with your own. You brought it with you, hoping it would fit all of the gear.

Sharon found the right vault using the cataloguing computer outside of the entrance to the vaults. Your first stop was the armory where you picked out some clothes you knew would fit Bucky; it wasn’t much but it was better than the jeans and thin shirts he’d been wearing when you last saw him. You threw some pistols in for good measure; standard military guns. The feel of the weapons in your hands brought back memories of the Battle of New York. You threw in an SMG for good measure, followed by a few boxes of ammo for each gun.

Sam and Steve’s gear followed. The suits fit into the bag, as did Sam’s wings, but it took a lot of shoving and cajoling to get Steve’s shield to fit. It made the bag bulge awkwardly, but together you managed to zip it up.

You moved to lift it off of the floor and nearly threw out your back. “Fuck, this is heavy. Take one side,” you said, holding onto the handle at one end.

“Oh, hell, you weren’t kidding,” she said, grunting as she grabbed the other end.

“This has got to be the least stealthy thing ever,” you said as you and Sharon made it up to the main floor.

“You’ve never seen Steve try to spy on someone,” she said, chuckling.

“He thinks he doesn’t draw attention? Looking like that? He’s practically a skyscraper. A ripped, handsome skyscraper,” you said in disbelief.

You both froze when you heard voices coming down the hallway. Sharon threw the shoulder strap on, wincing as it dug into her shoulder. You pretended to talk about places to search and the status of the building as a couple of armed agents ran by, giving Sharon a curt nod as they passed.

When they were out of earshot, you both went back to carrying an end. “We need to get out of here quickly. They were headed for the vaults. I don’t know how long it’ll be before they discover the gear’s gone,” she said, picking up the pace.

You groaned. This was difficult to begin with, but moving faster only made it worse. Still, you managed to keep up with her.

Five agonizing flights of stairs later, you were on the main floor, walking out the door. The guards at the main gate were still too preoccupied with getting everyone else taken care of that a quick glance at Sharon’s badge was all you needed to get out with the huge duffel.

“Where’s the car?” Sharon asked, huffing under the weight of the bag.

“Halfway down the block on the sidewalk,” you said, tilting your head to the right.

As you got close she popped the trunk. You maneuvered over to the back and set the larger duffel down. You yanked your duffel out (it felt feather-light by comparison) and shoved the heavier one in. The car’s end dipped ominously before the shocks righted it again. Sharon slammed the trunk shut and pulled out the keys to her car.

“You’re looking for a silver Cadillac ATS-V coupe. Fourth floor of the garage across from the base. Get out of here as soon as possible. Head west out of the city,” she said as she walked to the driver’s side. “Oh, and here,” she said as she dug into her pockets. She pulled out a small wad of euros and handed it to you.

“Thanks.” you said, pocketing the cash. “Steve has my number. Call me when you reach him so I know when it’s safe to ditch the car; I’d rather not be caught if I can help it,” you said, giving her a lopsided smirk.

“Got it,” she said, sliding into the car.

“Go save those boys,” you said, smiling a you shut her door.

She nodded, smiling determinedly at you as she pulled off the sidewalk and sped down the road, taillights disappearing around the corner.

You hefted your bag over your shoulder and walked quickly but as calmly as you could to the garage she mentioned. You took the elevator, knowing your legs wouldn’t make it up four flights of stairs with your bag over your shoulder. Using the key’s unlock button, you quickly found the car as it beeped at you from across the garage, reverse lights flashing at you. You threw your bag into the trunk and only had a second to admire the beautiful exterior before you hopped in the driver’s seat. You peeled out of the garage, trying not to think about how illegal it was to drive in a country you didn’t have a license for. You used the car’s built in GPS to head west, out of the city like Sharon instructed you.

You’d been driving for about twenty minutes before your phone rang in your pocket. You fumbled for it for a second before you pulled it out and pressed the green accept call button.

“(Y/N),” the person on the other side of the line said. You’d been expecting Sharon, so Steve’s deep voice surprised you.

“Stevie?” you asked. You were slightly appalled with yourself at how easily you slipped into using Rosie’s old name for him.

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Sharon found you, then?” you asked as you searched for a place to pull over and ditch the car.

“Yeah, she did,” he said. You heard him say something else to someone next to him, but he must have held his had over the speaker; his voice was muffled and you couldn’t make out the words.

“Is Bucky there?” you asked before you could stop yourself. You pulled into a parking lot that was next to the nearest bus stop you found. You tossed the keys on the driver’s seat and left the door open, hoping someone would come along and steal it; it might buy you more time.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Steve said. Once again you could hear muffled talking. Apparently it was Bucky he’d been talking to.

“Can I talk to him?” you asked, unsure, brows furrowed in confusion. You would have thought he would have wanted to talk to you immediately.

There was another short, muffled conversation before Steve spoke again. He sounded… angry? Annoyed? It didn’t seem like it was directed at you, though. Bucky, then? “Listen, (Y/N). We have to go. I’m sorry. It’s important. Really important. If we make it out of this, meet me at Rosie’s old place in Brooklyn. Get out of Germany as soon as possible, before authorities catch on that you helped us and Sharon,” he said.

“Steve, what-”

“We love you, sweetheart. Stay safe,” he said, warmth suddenly returning to his voice.

“Steve, you can’t just-” you began, but the beep of him ending the call interrupted you. You angrily tapped the call back button on the phone. You were slightly livid when you got a pre-recorded message telling you the number was unavailable. You tried once more for good measure, but got the same message.

You groaned in frustration and spotted the bus coming down the road out of the corner of your eye. You quickly looked up the word for airport (as well as how to pronounce it) on your phone. The bus slowed down to pick you up, coming to a creaky stop as it opened its doors.

“Flughafen?” you asked the bus driver. He nodded and said something you didn’t understand beyond the word “Ja,” pointing down the road the direction he was going. You knew that one, at least. That meant yes. You hopped on the bus, shoving some euros to the driver. He began to make change but you waved a hand at him.

“Nein, nein. Danke,” you said. That was about your entire German vocabulary there. He shrugged at you and you moved to take a seat on the back of the bus, maneuvering your enormous bag around the seats, and placed it next to you.

Using your phone and the sudden influx of time you’d just found, you booked a flight on the next plane to JFK Airport in New York. With that done, you called three people. Your aunt and uncle were first; You informed them you were going back to America for the foreseeable future, thanked them for letting you stay with them, promised you visit at the behest of your aunt, and told them you loved them.

Next, you called Dean, who seemed surprised to hear from you.

“Thought you weren’t coming back for a while, Boss,” he said. Had his voice gotten deeper? It sounded like it did.

“Dean, did you burn down my cafe?” you asked teasingly.

“No, ma’am,” he said earnestly.

“Dean, I thought we were past you calling me ‘Boss’ and ‘ma’am’,” you said, exasperated.

“Sorry, (Y/N). Old habits die hard,” he said, apologetic.

“It’s alright, dear. My apartment still in one piece, too?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to get it cleaned up for you?” he asked. His thoughtfulness made you smile.

“That would be great, Dean. I’ll be back in about twelve hours,” you said.

“That soon?” he asked, slightly alarmed.

“Yeah, something’s come up,” you said evasively. If he noticed your purposely vague answer, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright, I’ll try to have everything ready by then,” he said. You could tell he was already barking orders to the other people working at the cafe. It was about 8 am there. The cafe had been open for two hours already.

“You’re the best, Dean,” you said smiling.

“See you soon, (Y/N),” he said happily. “Have a safe flight.”

“Will do,” you said, ending the call.

You sighed and leaned your head against the windows of the bus. You tried not to think about how Bucky hadn’t talked to you. If he was right there it should have been easy for him to just.. say something, anything, to you. And even though Steve was telling the truth, something was off. He’d sounded annoyed and angry after you’d asked if you could talk to Bucky, but you could tell it wasn’t directed at you.

Could it be that Bucky didn’t want to talk to you? That would elicit that reaction from Steve, but that was impossible. Steve said it himself. They were headed straight towards danger. You might not see them again- Bucky would never-

Your thoughts swirled ominously in your head, making you dead to the world until it came to a jolting stop. You realized you’d arrived at the airport. You hopped off using the back door and clutched the strap of your duffel, trying to lessen the pain of it digging into your shoulder.

You pushed all of your thoughts about Bucky and Steve to the back of your mind. This would take all of your attention. Airports were tricky when you spoke the language everything was in, but this would be an adventure.

Originally posted by theplaneworld

“New York, here I come.”

Chapter 9

Tag List below the cut. If you’d like to be added to the list for all future chapters of Time, please like this post or send me a /ask.

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Pretend it’s okay. || Tom Holland.

It’s just a little thing I whipped up when I was feeling angsty on a saturday night after work. 

Warnings: none, maybe sadness ? I felt sad when I wrote this so … 1 or two swear words 
Word Count: 1113
Pairing: Tom x Reader. 


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anonymous asked:

What should I say if a Zerith fan tries to tell me Zack and Aerith is cannon?

First, try not to laugh. Second, direct them to either this post or my twitter thread about how un-canon that ship is. You could also just shut them up immediately with these quotes… 

The absolute first thing you must do is you need to establish that Aerith knew/loved the REAL Cloud and these quotes will help you do that:


“………first off, it bothered me how you looked exactly alike.”
“Two completely different people, but look exactly the same.”
“The way you walk, gesture…”
“I think I must have seen him again, in you…”

(She shakes her head)

“But you’re different.”

(She looks down again)

“Things are different…”

“I’m searching for you…”


“I want to meet you.”

“But I’m right here.”

(I know, I know… what I mean is…) “I want to meet….. you.”

(Original game)

Why it matters: It’s the original game… i.e. the bible of FFVII, it’s the most trustworthy source we can rely on. Aerith says it BOTHERED her how alike they were but then says that they’re different and that she wants to know the real Cloud. This proves that –in game– Aerith recognized Cloud for who he was and detected what was wrong with him even BEFORE anyone else did, including Cloud. It also shows viewers that Aerith prefers Cloud over Zack. 


 Aerith: “At first when I met Cloud, I believed he was similar to Zack. Little actions, the way he spoke… his kindness. But Cloud is Cloud. I, now undoubtedly, love Cloud much more than Zack.” Aerith’s page, Gongaga; DISMANTLED

Why it matters: Dismantled (otherwise known as “Kaitai Shinsho”) was released alongside FFVII in 1997. It is the oldest Ultimania book we have and its age is why I consider it the most important book to read. As you can see, this quote takes place during Gongaga and during this scene Aerith confesses to herself that she recognizes the “real” Cloud and loves him far more than she ever loved Zack. This book is written by Benny Matsuyama and published by the same publishing company that has released every guidebook since the game was released. People cannot discredit this book without discrediting every other book in the series. 


“Despite his cold behavior in several scenes, Cloud is essentially popular with members of the opposite sex. In addition to FFVII’s heroines Tifa and Aerith both having feelings for him (…)” - 10th ANNIVERSARY ULTIMANIA

Why it matters: Again, it’s an Ultimania book that fans on the opposing side just adore using when it fits their agenda. So this quote clearly says that Aerith (and Tifa) both like Cloud despite his “cold behavior”. This not only proves Aerith saw the “real” Cloud but it also proves she loves him.


“FFVII: Both Aerith, who is forthright, and Tifa, who is demure, have feelings for Cloud but he is none the wiser to them.” - CLOUD’S CHARACTER PROFILE, 10th ANNIVERSARY ULTIMANIA

Why it matters: Again, point blank says that Aerith has feelings for Cloud. It doesn’t say anything about Zack. 


Both of them share feelings for Cloud — Tifa was close to Aerith, who can also be called a love rival. With that point in mind, they were also good friends. Nevertheless, it is not hard to imagine that she carries complex feelings as a woman toward Aerith, who had built up a special bond with Cloud that was different from Tifa’s.” -TIFA’S CHARACTER PROFILE, 10th ANNIVERSARY ULTIMANIA

Why it matters: This particular quote is for Advent Children. It says that Aerith has feelings for Cloud and built a special bond with him that makes Tifa jealous… during Advent Children. This is after Aerith is dead and in the Lifestream. If Aerith only loved Cloud for Zack then she wouldn’t be described as still loving Cloud when she’s dead.


 “Even though Aerith perceived that Cloud had lost sight of his true self, she still has great affection for him. As an Ancient, Aerith had planned to accomplish the mission. On the one hand, her last concern is Cloud.” - AERITH’S CHARACTER PROFILE, 10th ANNIVERSARY ULTIMANIA

Why it matters: It says very clearly that Aerith realized Cloud had lost sight of his “true” self but still loved him regardless. Pretty self explanatory but if antis don’t get it, it’s just because they don’t want to.


 “So you won’t have a breakdown..” Aerith appears in Cloud’s dream, and she seems to console him with such advice. This line can infer that Aerith has seen through to the essence of Cloud. -PG.156 FFVII ULTIMANIA OMEGA

Why it matters: I feel like a broken record but, again… it says that Aerith saw the “real” Cloud before anyone else did.


 “Although in the beginning, Aerith felt close to Cloud because he behaved like Zack, her interest in Cloud himself grows and she is attracted to him.” -PG.31 FFVII ULTIMANIA OMEGA

Why it matters: Again, self explanatory lol


“I’m looking for you.“…"So you won’t have a breakdown.” - what Aerith told Cloud reveals many deep meanings. Aerith detected that the present Cloud is not the real him during their encounters. She knows it because of her mysterious, inherent ability. ~page 29, FFVII Ultimania Omega 

Why it matters:  Self explanatory.


When Aerith thinks of Cloud and Zack’s similarities, she sees that the present Cloud is not the real Cloud. Her meaningful lines like, “I’m searching for you” and “I want to meet you” all mean that she has discovered the existence of the real Cloud, although he’s not aware of it himself. ~page 31, FFVII Ultimania Omega

Why it matters: It’s as if Square Enix knew the stupid arguments antis say and was like “lol how about nah, fam”. Seriously, this single quote destroys all of those stupid arguments about Aerith not knowing the real Cloud or only loving him for “Zack”. Just expect to hear that these books aren’t canon or expect to be called nasty names in return for popping their bubble.

I mean, that’s why Square Enix recently had Cloud say in Itadaki Street that Aerith knew the real him even before he knew it himself.



Cloud: “When (we) were riding on the ferris-wheel I’m sure Aerith was aware of the real me, whom I looked/turned away from.” ~ Itadaki Street DQ/FF

Why it matters: Cloud recalls the clerith date as if it’s canon (hint: it is) and then says Aerith knew the real him before he even knew of it himself. Case closed. Square Enix hates these ridiculous ZA arguments and if they don’t get it by now they never will. 

You can use the following quotes to prove Aerith prefers her bodyguard over the cheater, Zack.


Zack: “Man, you know Aerith. Out of all the girls I’ve gotten along with, you truly are the best. After that mission, we could’ve stayed the way we were and might have been able to continue to go out with each other after I returned home. I hate Sephiroth. And I hate Shinra who’s been hiding all the stuff they’ve
been doing.”

Aerith: “Someone who’s gotten along with so many girls can never become a lover.

Zack: “How mean. I’m nice to everyone.”

Aerith: “And that’s your bad point. You’re not simplistic and awkward like Cloud.

And here’s another quote

Zack: “But whenever you feel lonely, call me Aerith.”

Aerith: “Only if I get really lonely. Goodnight, Zack.

Why it matters: It’s an official novel written by  Benny Matsuyama (at Nomura’s request) and it clearly shows Aerith saying what makes Cloud better than Zack is that Cloud is “simplistic and awkward”, which proves Aerith knows the “real” Cloud. Hearing Aerith say this stuff literally makes Zack sad. And when he tries to hit on her one final time Aerith turns him down by pretty much saying “only if I’m desperate”. Ouch.

Other quotes that prove Aerith loves Cloud even after dying are the following:


Aerith was in even greater pain when she thought about Cloud. She also had good feelings towards him. At first, she thought he somehow had some similarities to her first love. Even so, his looks, voice and personality weren’t similar and he also made her think of him as a mysterious person… But it soon didn’t matter. She loved him much more than her first love. Cloud was her hero and he couldn’t get away from danger. She saw him as someone full of confidence, cool and had the impression that he would disappear in an instant if she took her eyes off him. She wanted to stay by his side forever if she could. She really wanted to.“ -MAIDEN OF THE PLANET

Why it matters: Just read it lol


 “That was where Aerith hesitated. Will she let all humans die or was she going to avoid such a disaster in exchange for her life… But she never did think about it and was already prepared. When she did hesitate about leaving Cloud in sorrow, she would think about how it wouldn’t save her companions or the people of the world. She had already made up her mind. There was no other choice. It was all for Cloud too. | Maiden of the Planet

Why it matters: Aerith was only able to continue with her sacrifice because she knew it would save Cloud. She literally died for him… She. Doesn’t. Love. Zack.


“But a cry came through to her.

It wasn’t the sound of her cry. If it was then she would have felt the blood gushing up through her throat and the fury that forced its way out from the depths of her soul–

It was the sound of Cloud’s heart cracking. It was the cry of his heart that could never be healed of the grief he had towards Aerith’s death, the blame towards himself and the hatred he had for Sephiroth.

She was surprised at the great sorrow he had for her. She was a little happy that he thought so much of her but she also felt the pain that was many times greater.

There was nothing she could do about Cloud’s suffering and the pain ached in her heart.

The pain continued even though she was in the Lifestream.”

Why it matters: First, it says Aerith was happy that Cloud thought so much of her… Can’t get much clearer than that. Then, while Aerith is dying, she doesn’t feel her own pain or anyone else’s pain—she feels Cloud’s pain, his heartbreak was the strongest feeling in the world at that moment. And as he suffered, Aerith suffered even though she was in the Lifestream. This is what happens for soul-mates, okay.

I also suggest reminding that Zerith shipper that Zack doesn’t deserve Aerith because he was cheating on her:

“Zack loves women, a real lady’s man” Like what Aerith recalled in FF7, Zack is very good at hitting on girls, and is skilled at flirting. In BC, he used to compliment a female member of Turks during a mission; in CC, he also invited Cissnei, a member from Turks, to dine together. Since “one who steals an egg will steal an ox”, Zack’s girlfriend, Aerith, maybe felt impatient about this….?

[ screencap captions ]

CLOUD & ZACK IN THE TRUCK: “On the way of escape to Midgar, WHICH GIRLFRIEND did Zack plan to ask help for?”

(Zack’s info in FFVII Ultimania, p.83)

AND Zack wasn’t even going to visit Aerith just because her mom was there. 


“What’re you gonna do when we get to Midgar?”

(Cloud continues to bob his head.)


(Zack stands)

“I know what I’m gonna do.”

(He crosses his arms)

“I got a place I can crash for a while…”

(He turns to Cloud)

“No wait, the mother lives there, too…”

(He scratches his head.)

“Guess that’s out…”

(He shakes his head. Cloud continues to bob his like nobody’s business.)


“Yep… gotta change my plans!”

Why it matters: Zack refers to Aerith as a mere “place to crash” (first off, ew) secondly, once he remembers that Aerith’s mother lives with her he completely changes his plans. Zack was never going to return to Aerith because he “loved” her. It was a silly retcon to milk the fandom.

Which leads Aerith to say the following:


Aerith: “Although called my first love, that doesn’t mean that we (Zack & Aerith) became particularly intimate. I encountered him by chance as a flower vendor in Midgar. It was good for a little while, so I thought.” (DISMANTLED) 

Why it matters: Aerith says their relationship wasn’t good and says they never became “particularly intimate”. Game over.

Which is why their “relationship” is described as:


“Zack falls to the Church of the Slum during his mission and ends up meeting the girl Aerith, who’s trimming flowers. They both feel contented simply with each other’s company; it’s a platonic love. They think these kinds of happy days will last forever, but…. ”(Crisis Core Ultimania, Zack’s profile)

Why it matters: “P L A T O N I C      L O V E”. 


They attract to each other by mutual feelings similar to friendship, because they’re both juvenile, if you call it love… (Crisis Core Ultimania)

Why it matters: Their feelings are  “ similar to friendship “ and “juvenile”. Done and done.

The last important thing you need to establish is that Cloud and Aerith are identified as lovers in not one, not two, but THREE languages.

JAPANESE: クラウドは女の友人であり、恋人であり

FRENCH: “Cloud avait ete son ami, et son amant

GERMAN: “Cloud war ihr Freund, ihr Geliebter

(OtWtaS: Case of Lifestream (White; Chapter 1)

恋人 = Lover

“amant” = Lover

“Geliebter” = Lover/Boyfriend.

Why it matters: It’s an official novel written by The Man himself, Kazushige Nojima, set right before Advent Children takes place. For Cloud to be identified as Aerith’s lover in three different languages during Advent Children’s setting means that she still loves him despite being in the Lifestream. Which is odd since fans claim Aerith “loves” Zack. 

PLUS, Zerith literally stole everything that makes it popular from OG Clerith. 

The way they meet in the church, that was not just a retcon but it was inspired by Cloud and Aerith’s second meet cute. Nojima even stated that they copied the clerith moment in order to quickly build the ZA ship without wasting time on actually developing it. Nojima validated the clerith romance by using a clerith scene in order to make ZA believable. That’s how romantic Clerith is.

Q: Some parts we didn’t imagine from Aerith’s saying of “he’s my first love” in FF7 are depicted in CC. There are many FF7 fans who’re pleased about it.

Nojima: The setting that “falling from the roof of the Church” repeats Aerith’s encounter with Cloud was decided in the beginning. Though we’re talking about love, they are still young and there’s no time to describe “how they become fond of each other” in the game. So I made it like “falling into a sudden crush.” Personally, the setting that Aerith’s “how about one date” to Cloud in FF7 reappears in Zack’s lines is the greatest joy to me. Even though this line was casually placed in FF7, I care a bit about the saying that “it was thoughtless of her to say that.” The way of having Aerith receive Zack’s words is a defense for her. (Crisis Core Ultimania, p. 579)

The flower field imagery originally belonged to Clerith, the love beyond death themes originally (and still does) belong to Clerith, the Mog park date was stolen from Clerith, heck… even the way Aerith compliments Zack’s eyes mimics what Cloud did to Aerith in Dismantled

Z/erith WAS canon at one point, in an emotional way. But it never got anywhere near serious at all (at the most, they hugged). 

She moved on and fell in love with Cloud Strife, her devoted bodyguard who she literally died to protect. 

Cloud is a symbol for something important, an existence that she must protect. She is head-over-heels, over the moon in love with Cloud and nothing in the retcon Crisis Core will ever change that. Ever.

Black Rose [Part Fourteen]


Pairings: Minseok x main protagonist(Iseul) x Luhan

Mafia AU

Ongoing series

Warning: Mature content such as; violence, mature language, abuse, smut, drug use, suicide etc.

Read at your own Discretion!!!!


Black Rose. The most feared and infamous Mafia in Seoul, with a leader just as infamous and just as feared. The whole country has heard of her, yet no one has encountered her and lived long enough to tell the tale. She’s cold, undetectable, invisible even. It’s like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. Impossible. She walks over corpses to get what she wants and she wants revenge. All of her targets endure hell and eventually gruesome death. Her next target: Kim Minseok.

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-TwoPart Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty | Part Thirty-One | Part Thirty-Two | Part Thirty-Three | Part Thirty-Four | Part Thirty-Five *Final* | Epilogue 1 | Epilogue 2 | Epilogue 3(soon) | Epilogue 4(soon) | Epilogue 5(soon) | Epilogue *Bonus*(soon) |

Requests are open :) xx

Word Count: 3,128

Part Fourteen:

Amber; Kevin; Eric

It’s been a few months since Amber met Kevin and Eric. Two runaway guys who ran away from their families and ended up on the streets, barely getting by. They lived in an abandoned building close to the Han River, in a closed off area due to violent activities in that part of the city. Amber stumbled upon them when she ran away from her ‘boss’  not being able to live the life she has been living for the past couple of years. She lost her family and had to make money someway, so she turned to striping for men to make her money. It wasn’t that bad at first, but soon her ‘boss’ asked her to also engage in sexual activities with her clients, which she did for a while, but it became too much so she ran. She didn’t know where to go but luckily she met Eric and Kevin which made things easier, but they were still struggling to get by. 

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anonymous asked:

You're walking home alone at night. Someone hits you over the head. The last thing you see before passing out is your wife/husband pointing a gun at you

READ AT AO3 or under the cut

Summary: The Mr and Mrs Smith Jercy AU no one wanted

I made it Jercy because I can’t help it I’m sorry if it’s your notp or whatever.

(also sorry it took forever to fulfill)

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Reunited at Last

Request: Okay this may be confusing but brace yourself: So the reader, a witch, daughter of two no-maj’s is sent by her parents to Hogwarts and obliviated, in hopes she won’t be found and remember because it’s illegal. She befriends Newt but has to leave because the US is on her tail and her and Newt reunite in NYC and he just kinda freaks and kisses her?? Hope that makes sense?? Thank you!!

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. Also, I’m apologizing in advance for me taking a while to write this but it’s done! Hope you like it!

Word Count: 1,904

Never in a thousand years did you think you’d be standing in front of Newt Scamander again, but there he was, directly in front of you with the same crazy smile that you remembered from your days at Hogwarts.

But we should take it back in time, shouldn’t we?


You had met the peculiar boy during your third year at the wizarding school when the two of you were partnered together for potions.

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You introduced with a beaming smile and held out your hand.

The young boy flicked his eyes between yours and your hand before meeting it with his own, weakly shaking your hand. “I-I’m Newt Scamander.” He stuttered, nerves putting him on the edge. It wasn’t very often he talked to someone who was as hyper and enthusiastic as you were so it intimidated him.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Newt!” You stated before continuing. “Since we’ll be spending the rest of the year with each other, I think I’d like to get to know you better.” You were very forward about everything you said, something that Newt would learn throughout his years with you from there on.

A small blushed involuntarily spread from the tip of his ears and across his cheeks. It wasn’t very common for someone who’d want to get to know him since most usually called him weird and annoying. “I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you.” He muttered, casting his gaze down but a cute smile formed as you laughed.

“Perfect!” You piped before focusing back to the front of the class as class started. Quite perfect, indeed.


“Newt! Newt Scamander!” You called out, running towards the boy who stood alone in the crowded corridor. At this point, you two had been good friends for a few years and gotten to know each other much more to the delight of both. His head snapped to where he heard your voice and smiled as he saw you bolting towards him.

“I think I remember something from before Hogwarts!” You panted, eyes glimmering with hope as you took his hand and dragged Newt away to your common room so the two of you could talk. It was a breakthrough for you to have a memory from before you schooling years and Newt and you commonly discussed your peculiar memory loss. You pushed him down on the couch in a hurry before sitting down across from his, though you were bouncing with delight. He looked at you and moved forward, resting his elbows on his lap then perched his chin on his hands, finally nodding his head for you to continue your experience.

“Well, I was in the Forbidden Forest, you know, and dozed off for a bit. When dreaming, I saw a sign- mind you I’m fairly certain I’m not crazy and don’t you dare think me of insane when I say this- but I saw ‘New York’ in bold letters right in front of my very eyes. Never have I stepped foot in the United States but there I was, standing in the centre of New York City and it felt so real. Merlin’s Beard, Newt! Do you think that’s where I’m from?” You rambled, your hands fidgeting around as you spoke. He tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows together and casted his gaze away from you to think. It seemed outlandish but it could account for years of memory loss and the mysterious letters you would sometimes receive.

The Hufflepuff looked over at you and replied. “I- well I do believe it’s possible for that to happen. I know that there’s a charm to erase memories… but why you?” He muttered the last part under his breath, but you had heard it. That got you thinking as well. Why were you sent away (if the dream was in fact a memory) in the first place? Had your parents abandoned you? If so, why were you here in England, a whole ocean away from where you were quite possibly born? Thousands of questions rushed through your head, each filling your body with a sense of dread. Before you knew it, tears had slipped past your eyes and down your cheeks and Newt was quick to notice this. He was by your side in a snap and awkwardly took your hand. It wasn’t common for you to get upset easily and to make matters worse, the boy didn’t even know why you were this way in the first place.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? Did I say something to- uh upset you?” He asked and looked up at you. You shook your head, sniffling, and wiped the tears away swiftly.

“Of course not, Newt. It’s just my silly thoughts. I’ll be just fine.” You said and gave him a small smile to show that you were fine and didn’t want him pushing further for the actual answer. Newt huffed, a pang hitting his heart when he realized you didn’t trust him with the truth behind your small breakdown. You two stayed in place that way, his face inches away from your own. Had he always had that many adorable freckles across his cheeks? Was his hair always curled in such a cute fashion and perfectly tousled, and more importantly, were his lips always that irresistible? You didn’t seem to notice yourself inching towards him until Newt was centimetres away from your face. His eyes fluttered closed, not sure as to what was going to happen but he was excited nonetheless. Your lips were millimetres apart before you abruptly pushed away. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this, he’s just my friend.’ You thought.

Your head quickly turned away from him as you pushed away. “I see that it’s time for supper. You should go along, I’ll be there in a bit. There’s something I need to get from my room.” You lamely said while a hot blush rushed to your face. With that, you excused yourself and ran up the stairs without another word from the two of you, leaving the flustered Hufflepuff alone. Once again, the boy thought he’d done something wrong and silently cursed himself for that then quickly rushing out of the common room before anyone could notice him. What Newt didn’t know was that was going to be the last night he’d see you after your disappearance from Hogwarts.


Every passing day without you was an aching reminder to him of everything he’d lost when you disappeared. You were the one who stood up for Newt without a moment’s hesitation, the person who voiced his thoughts when he was having troubles putting words together, the girl he had fell for because of everything she provided that he didn’t have. Never did he think that he would see you again, or even if it did happen, welcome him back into your life with open arms. So when he saw you standing in the middle of a crowded street he turned in the opposite direction.

However, he was too late. When your eyes caught the familiar unruly locks and freckled face you marched your way over. “Excuse me, sir!” You called out on the street, picking up your pace to reach the tall man before he could leave your sight. Once directly behind him, you tapped the blue cloth cladded shoulder and prayed that the man was indeed Newt. He swallowed his nerves and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in as he turned around, anxious.

“Y- yes, miss?” He squeaked, eyes not daring to look down at you out of pure fear of what could happen. When you saw his face again, your voice caught in your throat. He had stolen your breath like it was Hogwarts all over again. You hands moved faster than your brain could say stop and suddenly your fingers were tracing the freckles on his face. The unexpected touch startled Newt, making you quickly withdraw your hand.

“I’m sorry, Newt.” You yelped, though not sure if you were apologizing for your previous actions or for what you had done over a decade ago. “I am so sorry, Newt.” You said and continued. “I feel like I should explain what happened that night and I completely understand if you don’t want to hear what I have to say after how things were left off between us.” Though you were hoping that he was still the same Newt you had left. The same Hufflepuff boy who always listened to everything you said no matter how foolish it was.

He was stunned that you still cared about him enough to feel the need to explain yourself or perhaps it was pity that you felt, but either way, he wanted you to continue and urged you to do so.

You smiled up at him and nodded you head, let out a large breath, then kept going. “I really was from New York after all, but the problem was my parents were muggles, or no-majs in American terms. It’s illegal for wizards and muggles to socialize here so my parents thought it would be best to send me across the sea so the Magical Congress here wouldn’t find me. Eventually, they found a British witch who was willing to bring me to England under one condition: that was for me to be obliviated. A small price to pay, they thought, for my life. I believe that charm was weak though, since I could start remembering my life before I was whisked away from here.When I told you about my memory that night, the MACUS was close by and I was once again in danger. So I did the only thing I could think of- fleeing.”

“I have regretted that decision ever since then. I regret leaving you without another word and pushing away from you because I was scared that it would’ve ruined what we were if you didn’t feel the same. And now I’m sorry that I’ve rambled on about this if it makes you uncomfortable but I just had to. To give myself closure and to hopefully move on from you even though it’s been such a long time.” You concluded and squeezed your eyes shut so you wouldn’t have to see his reaction.

Newt was taken aback by both your story and confession. If he was being honest, he never really had moved on from you either, especially with the last moment he spent with was filled with the wonderful potential of you two becoming more. A rush of confidence fell upon the man and before he could stop, his hands reached down to cup your face delicately and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. Your eyes flew wide open, not sure if the kiss was actually happening.

“Was that fine, (Y/N)?” He whispered after parting. Your fingers weakly clutched the lapel of his jacket while you still tried to comprehend what had happened. The man internally panicked when you didn’t reply, regretting his sudden outburst and almost pulled away until you spoke.

“I quite liked that, Mr. Newt Scamander.” You murmured against his lips before pulling him back in for another kiss. When you pulled apart once again, there he was with his crazy smile you grew so fond of.

“I- I am so glad we’ve met once again, love.” He stuttered, a deep blush set on his face.

“As am I.”

Have an idea on what you’d like me to write? Drop a request in my inbox and I’ll do my best to fulfill your request!

Fic: A Cyndi Lauper Girls Day (Reader x Sebastian Stan ft. Chris Evans x OFC)

A Reader x Sebastian Stan fanfic ft. Chris Evans x OFC

Anon Request: I also have another request/idea thing that maybe you could think about? Maybe you could have Nat and reader become really great friends after the date and just basically a girls day out together and then they come back home to their loving significant others and just fluff all around?

Warnings: language and some fluff

Dedicated to: the lovely anon that requested this! Hope you like it, love. :)

This is the follow up to Double Date. Thanks for reading! xx


Hanging out was not something you did on the regular.

Sure, you had your own selective group of friends that consisted of three people you trusted with your life, and you guys did things like shoot the shit whenever your tight schedules gifted you the opportunity to. But an all day affair that was spent doing nothing but partake in some shop therapy and pampering yourself with someone you had only met once? Unheard of. You were too shy for that.

You had been stressing over it for a week since Sebastian had casually mentioned Natalia was on summer break from teaching and was accompanying Chris to New York. She had recently gotten a new phone that didn’t save any of her contacts – bummer, you had cringed –, and had Chris text him to ask you if you would be interested in a girls only day. You had nearly choked on the tuna salad sandwich you were scarfing down.

“She asked if I was interested in what?” You had just about shrieked awkwardly.

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Redemption, Pt. 2

Part 1

Simon and Raphael: one year later

CoHF spoilers

He could see nothing in the darkness. He fumbled in his pocket for his witchlight, keeping a firm grip on his bow in his other hand. He retrieved the stone from his pocket, and the sudden glare of light burned his eyes and startled him so much that he immediately dropped it, the light winking out again.
And then the world was filled with noise as the demon reared up behind him, roaring. Simon had enough time to think, There you go, you lasted a whole year as a Shadowhunter. Well done, before something collided with his side, knocking him to the ground. Pain flared all down his left side and he expected to feel razor sharp teeth sink into his flesh. What he heard instead was the demon utter a second roar that sounded like a scream, before the sound abruptly cut off.

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kimnrowdy  asked:

Dude. It's like, tough coming up with intelligent things to ask you for this 4k video you are making. But I am wondering about your thoughts on the writers replacing Alison and/or Cosima as part of the 3 main clones. Would the show still work if it was Sarah, Helena, and Rachel; and Cosima and Alison became side story? And this is totally calmorrison's idea. But it's an interesting idea I've been mulling over and I'm curious as to what you think about it.

Hey friends! Look who’s finally back on the analysis train!

It’s me!

Friendly reminder to everyone that I made my video, but didn’t have time for all the analysis and so I’m doing separate write-ups, of which this is the first of many. 

As for the topic at hand here though…

Well, well, well. This is a topic both myself and Jacq and I’m sure other people have addressed before and it’s something that’s always relevant so I’m going to let myself ramble here. I can’t go and dig up every writeup someone’s done on the topic, so I’m just going to summarize my own thoughts in combination with what feels like the general consensus on this idea here.

Here’s the thing about our clones — they represent three very important worlds. I’ve heard Jacq call them Street, Science and Suburbia, and that is important. These three worlds all have their assets.

  • From the Science we get exposition dump, we get foundation to our mystery, we get conspiracy theories, we get organizations, we get labs and white-coats and everything you would expect from a clone show. We get your classic sci-fi elements.

  • From the Suburbia we get dark humour, we get to relate, we get stark contrast to everything else, we get this hyper-realized world that hits close to home for many viewers, we get very real “ordinary” life and we get very real “ordinary” human fears.

  • From the Street we get our indy tone, we get dark, we get gritty, we get danger, we get fast-pace and we get our story. We get something interesting that the everyday viewer likely doesn’t experience every day. We get action, and we get excitement.

These three worlds combine so beautifully to create such a unique tone that ultimately makes Orphan Black successful. Let’s all consider what would happen if we lost one of these clones (and by extension) these worlds:

  • Street: Nope. Sarah Manning dies, we all die. Case closed.

  • Science: If Cosima fades too far into the background, we’ll lose essential information. As much as I love Cosima, her primary role is giving us all of the information we need to know in order to draw our own conclusions as viewers. “But Melanie!” someone out there says “We could still get occasional information from Cosima if she’s in the background and only in an episode every now and then!” Well dear reader, I do realize that. I raise the counter point though that we are all already frustrated with the lack of time for Cosima character development and experience. If we stuff her into the background only to show up every third episode and exposition dump…well her entire value as a character goes down the toilet. And I don’t know about you, but Cosima’s a very interesting character that I would like to know more about. We can have characters like Rachel on the side, because her arc is primarily concerning with her character as opposed to exposition dumping for the audience and other characters. When we see Rachel Duncan, we’re learning more about Rachel Duncan. If we relegate Cosima to the background, we’ll just see a lot of her explaining things and then leaving. Also, less Cosima means less Delphine. And none of us want that. (A much better worded — and always relevant — explanation of why Cosima can’t die right here)

  • Suburbia: I am a fervent defender of Alison Hendrix’s life and screentime on this show, that is no secret. My support extends beyond the bang-sisterhood and mutual love of white wine though. I would argue that it is the Suburbia that truly separates Orphan Black from the pack and makes it such a unique and fascinating show and story. We’ve had sci-fi shows with big corporations and white labcoats. We’ve also had sci-fi shows with street-wise thugs and shoot-outs in diners and running from cops. It is very rare though, that we have a sci-fi show with a suburban soccermom who tortures people with a gluegun. There is a reason that Alison was named one of the top 25 characters by EW this year. There is a reason that Variations Under Domestication won a whole host of the writing awards last year. There is a reason that Alison’s character has been met by almost universal acclaim — and that is because the Suburbia world as portrayed in contrast to the Street and the Science…that’s something that’s never really been done before. It’s fresh, it’s exciting, it’s unpredictable, and it’s relatable.  Anyways, my point is that if we lose Alison, we lose a key part of why this weird little show is so appealing. We lose that unique edge, we lose the black comedy, and we lose the reality. If we fall too far down the street or science rabbit holes, we risk descending into cliche sci-fi/crime tropes. With the Suburbia element, we can keep on having plot points like the potluck or the musical or rehab…and those plot points are what makes this show so gosh darn fun. 

Now, in my imagination I’m speaking to a big group of people right now and somebody just raised their hand in the back. “What about if one of those worlds is replaced by Helena or Rachel? Wouldn’t each of them bring something equally important to the table?” 

Thank you listener, you raise a valid point.

I ask you all this very important question, can Rachel Duncan exist without Sarah Manning? 

Think for a second. Of course literally, she is a person separate from Sarah. But can you really consider any elements of her storyline that are completely unrelated to Sarah Manning? Banging Paul — Sarah. Taking Kira — Sarah. Emotional breakdown — can’t bring Sarah to terms. All of that shit with Ethan — well guess who reintroduced Ethan into Rachel’s life. 

My point is, Rachel is a subset of Sarah’s story. 

Rachel can’t exist in her own world as a character at this current point, because everything she does is tied to Sarah. Rachel is too interconnected to Sarah’s world— and Cosima’s to an extent. Nothing is really entirely her own. At least not enough of her own at this point to justify an entire third of our main storyline. Alison on the other hand has a completely unrelated musical, ice skating lessons, neighbourhood potlucks, accidental stranglings of neighbours….things like that. Cosima brings that essential science exposition, as well as our token romance element with Delphine. These are things that, theoretically, would and could exist without the presence of Sarah Manning (but as I’ll get to later, still can’t in reality.)

I’m not saying that Rachel doesn’t have the potential to get to that point, but it is going to take some work and a lot of development of her as a character separate from Sarah. And I’m not sure we have time for that.

Now, that development is the kind of thing we saw from Helena in season 2. We started to see Helena have adventures separate from Sarah — everything with Jesse and with the Proletheans and…yeah there was a lot of distance in a good way. My issue with Helena being a so called “main clone” ultimately comes with what we would lose if we lose Alison or Cosima. At the end of the day, we are still going to get the needed dose of Helena’s world — especially with the upcoming assumed prominence of Mark/Gracie in s3 — with Helena in the role she is in currently. If we sacrifice our Science or Suburbia for just more Helena…I feel strongly that we would lose a whole lot more than we would gain. 

If we were to trade in Helena for say, Alison, our tone would shift dramatically. Things would be a lot more serious. Yes, Helena does bring humourous moments to the show, but they aren’t funny in the same way Alison Hendrix burying a body in her garage is. Helena is fundamentally dark, and not in a “bang my husband on top of a freezer in our dark garage” way.

We also have to remember that to an extent Helena, and definitely Rachel, are kind of antagonists. Again, I know Helena made progress towards redemption and all that in s2, but at the end of the day she’s not a “good guy” in the same way that Alison and Cosima are. There’s something thematically and structurally nice about having these three main protagonists, the conflicted hero-villain on the side, and then the batshit crazy evil one. Having those two side clones, Helena and Rachel, be intimately connected to Sarah feels so symmetrical and nice. It just feels balanced and right.

Now, ultimately I’m not saying we can never kill off one of our main three clones. There may come a point in the story where that is necessary. We’re going to require some significant tone shifts and setups before that point however in order to maintain some semblance of what the show is, or it’ll have to happen within the final stretch of episode where everything is just going down in flames. I am adamant on how we can’t kill Sarah with any narrative left in the story though — much in the same way that Rachel’s story can’t exist on the level that Alison and Cosima’s do, Alison and Cosima’s can’t exist on the same level as Sarah’s.

Sarah manning is our hero, through and through.

So yeah, that’s a lot of long rambles on character analysis and development. I think it’s important though, because as much as I want to see more of Rachel Duncan and Helena, I’m not willing to sacrifice the important things that Alison and/or Cosima bring to our story.

American Idiot- Meeting Billie Joe Armstrong

I sat in the chair fiddling with my phone. It was getting late and I was hungry. I’d spent a good part of the day crying over my boyfriend and he’d spent a good part of the day laughing at me for it.

“We’re nearly done for the day, then we’ll go and get something to eat okay?” Michael promised, kissing me on the top of my head.

“Thanks.” I mumbled not looking at him for fear of breaking out into tears again.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” He asked.

“The opposite.” I mumbled. He just nodded, that’s why I loved Michael, he just understood things. He didn’t need me to explain them. He just got it and he didn’t judge me no matter how irrational I was.

I’d been stuck in the studio all day, but I couldn’t really complain. My boys were recording their cover of American Idiot and it was just something that struck a bit close to home.

The album had been given to me when I was nine or ten by my dad who was just about to leave for Iraq. It was his favourite album at the time and he gave it to me to look after while he was away. I listened to it every day for six months. It was the last thing he gave me before he left and for six months I wasn’t sure if it was going to be the last thing he ever gave me. It had been my favourite album ever since. It got me through all the hard times. So when Michael had come to me telling me they were covering a song from it I’d been ecstatic, aside from the fact that in ten years of being a fan I had never heard a Green Day cover I liked. I wanted to be able to look them in the eyes and tell them I loved it. I didn’t want to have to lie, but as today approached I’d become more apprehensive.

However when they finally got in there and I heard what they had I’d burst out crying. It was perfect. It did the song justice and I couldn’t ask for better. No one could. Michael’s voice was perfect for the song. He sounded almost like a young Billie Joe and he made the song his own all at the same time.

They really were punk rock there was no denying it. I was just so proud of them. I knew they’d make it. I knew it. They were going to be this generations Green Day and I was so happy for them. I was so happy for my boyfriend and his friends.

“Are you okay?” A somewhat familiar voice asked, shaking me from my thoughts. When I looked up I immediately burst into tears again, completely unsure of what had come over me.

I reached my hand to my mouth in shock, pulling it away to speak but immediately pulling it back again. “I…I…” I stuttered. “It’s really you.” I blabbed, tears streaming down my face. I was trying to find the words to say something else but the door to the booth swung open and out flew four very excited boys.

“Is she okay?” He asked them, looking at me uncertainly.

“Holy fuck!” Michael screamed, literally jumping with joy. “Oh, her, she’s fine! You’re just like her hero. Y/N please, babe, get your voice back.” He laughed. I wanted to say something. I’d dreamed of this day my whole life and now he was here and I couldn’t do anything but cry.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N. I just came over to wish you guys luck with this, and wanted to know if I could here what you guys had laid down.” Billie Joe Armstrong was stood in front of me. He was here because he wanted to hear my boyfriend cover his most famous song; and I was physically incapable of speech.

I followed quickly at his heel as he walked over to the sound board. “I really hope you like it.” Luke stuttered, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one who was a little star struck.

I hoped to God he liked it, or at least respected them for it, because in all honesty if he didn’t then he wasn’t the man I thought he was. I saw Michael waiting patiently by his side as they played what they had done. The expression on his face was unreadable and I could see it was killing Michael. This man was his idol, and Michael had done most of the vocals on this. If he didn’t like it it would destroy him. He’d lose all the faith he’d gained in himself and it would be awful to see.

“I think it’s time we arranged a time to sit down and write together boys.” Billie smiled, pulling the headphones off his head. Looking up at the four expecting teenage boys as relief and joy flooded their faces. I could see Michael welling up and I knew when we were alone tonight he’d have a proper breakdown. This is what he’d wanted. This is what he’d worked so hard towards. “This is punk boys. Welcome to the business.”

I didn’t have the restraint that the rest of the boys had because yet again I was sobbing, loudly this time. “I’m sorry.” I finally managed. “I…thank you. You have no idea how much this means to them and I’m just so happy for them.” I sobbed.

Billie Joe wasted no time in standing up from his seat and wrapping his arms around me. “You need to keep this one.” He laughed and I melted against his chest. My idol, my hero was hugging me and telling Michael that I was a keeper. Everything in my life was perfect.

“How about I take you all out for dinner to celebrate?” He offered as he pulled away, and everyone instantly nodded in agreement.

“Are you okay?” Michael laughed, pulling me into a hug as we went to get our stuff to leave.

I nodded, nuzzling my face into his neck. “Yes. I just can’t believe this. Billie Joe Armstrong is here because he wants to hear you guys play. He wants to write with you. I got to meet my hero and it’s all thanks to you being dumb enough to love me.” I giggled.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He winked, pecking me on the lips.

“Thank you for being the perfect boyfriend.” I grinned up at him. I followed him out into the cold street. It had been kept top secret that the boys were recording anything at all so we were safe. It wouldn’t have mattered though. I was used to the hoards of fans now. At first it had been weird, but now it was normal and they were mostly pleasant to me.

The restaurant that Billie had picked was only a couple blocks away so we walked. When we were finally seated Billie chose the seat opposite me and burst out laughing when I instantly flushed red.

“So what was the first Green Day song you heard?” He asked, looking at me.

“That I remember? Probably American Idiot. Though I’d definitely heard Good Riddance before hand.” I’d finally managed to get a coherent sentence out causing all the boys to laugh.

“You’re not helping me here!” I mock glared. “You boys are used to meeting your idols. I’m not!”

“I’ll tell Alex you said that!” Michael joked.

“Have you met Alex? It’s impossible to be speechless around him.” I groaned. We continued to chatter and I watched as Michael clung to every word Billie Joe said.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll end up supporting you on your next Stadium tour!” Billie joked, but Michael just violently shook his head.

“Not happening. I’d refuse to let you be our support act.” He huffed.

“I think he was probably joking.” Ash rolled his eyes.

Calum nodded, “I don’t see it ever happening, but if it did I don’t think any of us would be okay with even joint headlining with you guys.”

“I don’t care who opens and who closes, I’m just coming.” I shrugged and Michael nudged me with his elbow.

“What? Touring with my two favourite bands, what could be better? You’re both equals in my eyes. It doesn’t matter who headlines to me.” Green Day were my favourite band, but 5SOS were my boys.

“I can’t believe we would ever even tour with Green Day.” Michael sighed. “It’s the dream.”

“We’ll make it happen.” Billie nodded. Clearly excited by the prospect too. “You guys are going to be massive, and I want to be part of that. I don’t care what people are going to say, getting punk music out into the mainstream is a good thing. Introducing people to good music is always a good thing. People are going to call you sell outs and wannabes and a boy band for the rest of your lives. Just remember you’re the ones making millions and playing to sold out stadiums. The ones with die hard fans who can’t even look at you without crying and being unable to speak.” He winked at me and I blushed. “You’re making music. Doing what you love and making people happy, that my friends is punk.” He beamed. It was almost like watching Ashton smile. Like sunshine.

“Oh my god.” Michael blurted. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m having dinner with Billie Joe Armstrong.”

“Why are you even in England?” I asked in an attempt to distract from Michael’s minor breakdown.

“I’m looking for new bands to sign to the label. I’d suggest you guys, but you are better off where you are.” He joked.

We finished up dinner. Billie telling us his amazing tour stories and offering writing tips before he told us he needed to take off. He was meeting with a band early in the morning and he wasn’t as ‘punk rock’ as he used to be.

When we finally got back to the hotel it didn’t even take Michael seconds to burst out into tears. I felt him collapse against me and I was barely able to support him.

“He’s real.” Was the first thing he said making me laugh. “He likes me voice. Said it reminded me of his. He wants to write a song with me. He wants to tour with me. Y/N we’ve made it. We’ve fucking made it.” He nearly wept.

“Never doubted it.” I beamed. Kissing him.

“I love you.” He whispered, and deepened the kiss.

“I love you too.” I pulled away. I never doubted it. 

Why Does Mary Continue to Threaten Sherlock?

Okay, one reason I can’t “forgive” Mary or buy the justification that she only shot Sherlock like she did because she wanted to save his life? Watch how she reacts to Sherlock when they meet in the empty house (“the lie of Leinster Gardens”). Firstly, she brought a gun. Why did she bring her gun to rendezvous with Sherlock if it wasn’t to threaten him? Then, when he asks her how good of a shot she is, she cocks her gun and says, “How badly do you want to find out?” And it’s all rather aggressive. She is most certainly willing to kill Sherlock in that moment if it’s one of the things she has to do “to keep John Watson.” The only reason she doesn’t is because he reminds her that her face is on the building. Sherlock doesn’t trust her in this moment: he makes John wear a bulletproof vest while he’s waiting in the shadows, playing “Sherlock,” so he obviously thought there was a possibility she’d try and shoot him again. Sherlock also calls her out on her fake “facade” in a fairly aggressive way (her portrait on the building), so he’s not playing nice then, either. He doesn’t trust her then.

And he obviously didn’t trust her when she shot him, because as he’s dying, he’s hearing in his own mind palace: “John Watson… it’s him I worry about the most. That wife? You’re letting him down. John Watson is definitely in danger.” That’s Sherlock’s own subconscious telling him he needs to wake up because Mary posses a threat to John. He wills himself back alive with the thought that Mary will cause harm to John.

So when DOES Sherlock start trusting her? (If he ever does, which is maybe debatable, too.) Just when she shoots the 50p and he realizes she’s actually a crack shot? I don’t know. When does he realize she called the ambulance before John did? He makes the observation before the ambulance arrives for him, so he already knows “the average arrival time for a London ambulance.” I just… don’t get it. Sherlock must’ve made his deductions sometime between the Leinster Gardens and when they arrive back at Baker Street. But all his explanations about her shooting him, I don’t know, they sound like Sherlock just trying to justify it, to protect Mary and keep her and John together. She doesn’t expect Sherlock to want to help with her case (“Why would you help me?”); when Sherlock says it’s because she saved his life, she doesn’t seem particularly agreeable. She certainly doesn’t act like that was her intention all along.

I honestly can’t wrap my head around why Sherlock absolves Mary then. All for John? Because he “choose her,” and Sherlock wants John to have the things that make him happy: but would he really force Mary on him if he thought Mary was still a threat? I don’t understand why Sherlock trusts Mary, I guess is what I’m getting at.

I’m all confused and feely about it.


You make excellent points here. And I have no idea. I mean, no offense to Sherlock in this episode, but Mary was right in front of him and Sherlock was a standing-still target: She didn’t have to be a crack shot to kill him. So I don’t know why he feels like he needs proof that she’s a crack shot in order to decide she didn’t want to kill him. I guess it proves she could have shot him in the forehead and didn’t? But she still killed him. I don’t get why that point seems to get lost in Sherlock’s analysis. (Maybe he doesn’t know he flatlined? Would anyone have told him that? Maybe he’s completely underestimating that threat to his life, because he didn’t die? I have no idea.)

Mary clearly thinks Sherlock is going to tell John the truth about her–that truth right now being THAT SHE SHOT HIM–and so she appears to be willing to finish the job in order to keep him quiet. Maybe she just thought the gun would be persuasive and she wouldn’t have to do anything? I don’t know; Sherlock didn’t seem to be that persuaded by a gun in CAM’s office, after all. 

I DON’T GET MARY. What I do think is she seems incredibly different once John shows up. Why is that? Does John bring up the real Mary? Or does the real, incredibly aggressive Mary fall back into the damsel in distress who needs to be saved in order to appeal to her caretaker husband? I have no idea. 

And then Sherlock takes her side, and all I can decide is that something he saw there made him realize that Mary isn’t a threat *to John.* Sherlock thinks Mary makes John happy, and Sherlock decides that Mary isn’t going to hurt John, I guess. Mary explains she’ll do anything to keep John, and maybe Sherlock’s okay with that. Sherlock *didn’t* do anything to keep John, and maybe he thinks it was a massive mistake and he respects Mary for fighting harder? I don’t know. But he decides John’s not in danger from Mary, so he makes excuses for her. Sherlock thinks she makes John happy, she’s definitely pregnant, and maybe Sherlock thinks John’s got enough to deal with right now with Mary’s lies without also adding, “Oh, and then when I offered to help her, she decided to shoot me.” John Watson has a bit of an understandable breakdown in Baker Street, and Sherlock is bleeding internally and not in good shape and already doesn’t want to distress John more by pointing that out, so maybe he was really, really determined to save John as much distress as he can at that point? I don’t know. I have no idea. Sherlock must know Mary is an assassin when he sets up the meeting, though; otherwise the precautions make little sense. Right? Gah. I don’t know. I am so frustrated by the shooting of Sherlock Holmes and the belittling of it throughout the episode. 

By the end of the episode, Sherlock does seem to trust Mary with John, and the only thing I can think is that he must respect her for being willing to kill him to keep John? After all, Sherlock expected to be pushed to the side by Mary way before that, so maybe he’s just wondering what took her so long? Sherlock Holmes is not a man who values his life a whole lot at his point, I don’t think, because he doesn’t have much left. And maybe he sees the problem as being that he wasn’t enough like Mary to actually keep John Watson? …I don’t know. 

Could You Be Happy Here With Me?

Moonlight streamed through the curtains, the sheer fabric doing little to block the light. The stars glow hid behind the full moon but the small specks were still there, still watching over him. He could feel the heat as it pumped from vents under the bed. He could feel her skin, the soft curves of flesh so soft. He could feel the beat of her heart, so strong and steady. The scent of her shampoo like freshly cut flowers and ocean waves. Gentle puffs of her breath were ghosting the arm he’d sprawled out underneath her head, her hand tangled with his calloused fingers. She’d shifted so her body had pressed to every inch of his revealed skin and he had never felt so in love as he did in that small studio apartment.

Takeout boxes stacked up on the counter because neither of the could cook more than cheap frozen pizzas. Open books with highlighted, noted lines that intersected like the masterpieces hanging in the small art studio their friend had bought cheap laid on the rickety coffee table. Her shoes and clothes were so meticulously hung up, prepared for the next day while his were strewn at random, unwashed and wrinkled.

They had said the two of them could not, would not, work. She was high class to his empty bank account, she was Gucci and he was Goodwill. She had dreams, aspirations that didn’t need a struggling musician to bring her down and he questioned every day why she didn’t leave. Find a man wearing suits that cost more than all of his existence, marry him and have children that had pretty smiles and brains that could understand what she would say when she talked about her passion for learning.

She could be happy, doing what she wanted whether it were staying at home or working the job of her dreams. She would have options that she could never have with him, the boy whose music was the only skill he had. She would not be studying at night and working to jobs to afford food and a place to live while he played on streets for people who would never respect the depths of depravity his music came from. She never faulted him for it, encouraging him if anything with her soft whispers of The music you make is as important as the books I read, music is a language that the entire world can understand. It saves people mentally and that is something medication can’t always do. She never complained besides occasionally the rare I’m tired that had him on his knees, rubbing along the muscles of her feet and calves that she always seemed so grateful for.

Her I love you’s always were real whether whispered into the dark or giggled through laughter he’d caused. They greeted him in the morning and never disappeared through the day. She supported him in every and any way that she could, promising to love him through the unpaid bills and sleep deprivation as long as he loved her through it too.

He tried.

He tried being as supportive as she was, the depths of her niceties that were given freely and never for reward were unmatched but he did try.

Picking her flowers just so she would smile, laughing while she explained that it was illegal to take these from the park garden but she almost gave him a smile and he didn’t care. He’d stay up into hours that no sane human being should have to be awake at to throw out quiz questions, kissing her for every right and sometimes the wrong, ready to send off congratulation and I never doubted you texts when she sent pictures of passing grades.

He supported her when she had breakdowns, thinking that maybe she couldn’t do it, any of it. Not this time, not ever but gentle hands that were as strong as his love, held her. Whispered words of encouragement, promising her that she could do anything she wanted to because she was her. She would always apologize for it, the way she broke down but he promised her he was as much a safe place for her as she was for him.

He could never be open like her, as free with his affection because he didn’t know how to do that when he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. When he was waiting for her to decide she’d made a mistake choosing him, waiting for the decision she would inevitably make of herself or him and who could fault her for choosing someone as wonderful as herself over him?

Those were typical worries of his, things he questioned, waited for but tonight was different. The call had been more than interest, it had been a promise from a major record label that received the demo she paid for working in the small café for a year, scraping up tips with smiles and niceties even though she wanted to go home and sleep but bringing home the earnings and placing them in a jar she had labeled Calum’s Demo with hearts and smiley faces.

The shoe he had been so afraid would drop, the cutting of such fragile strands that held them together, was something he couldn’t fear. The fourth song of five had the studio in tears, had them scrambling to draw up the documents for the talented young boy who felt more like a man now that a salary was being offered all because of the song he had written for the woman he pulled closer as she slept, smiling at her soft snort before she rolled to press her face in his shirtless chest. Her hair tickled his nose, her feet so cold that he could feel shivers racing up his spine but he couldn’t have moved her if he tried. She was holding onto him like she never wanted to let go and he knew she wouldn’t.

He hadn’t told her yet, the adrenaline racing through him had halted when he saw her wrapped up in blankets, cocooned and safe from the world so he shed his clothes, showering so his cold body would not disturb warm sleep before he crawled in beside her and simply watched her rest. He couldn’t wait to tell her she could do that more often because it was his turn to take care of her.

She shifted in her sleep, the sound of a horn from the streets below knocking her from peaceful sleep and she snuffed against skin that was glistening with a slight sheen of sweat and the moonlight that caught its glisten.

She simply caught his eye, the spark of adrenaline obvious and he could feel as her heart skipped a beat where she lay pressed against his ribcage. He didn’t need to tell her that he had gotten the call as she scrambled to sit up in the covers, the silent communication something all of their friends had been jealous of. She pressed lips to his with a purpose, his warm laughter filling her whole body with contentment as she could feel the pieces of their puzzled life falling into place.

He pulled her closer, remembering a night like this not too long ago when he had penned that fourth track for his demo that got him his record deal, her lips pressed to his with no intent other than closeness, feeling connected as if they were one person sharing the same heart. The way she curled up, the feel of her body so familiar, similar to now when she had held onto him with unspoken promises that all but forced him to retrieve the black notebook from under the mattress.

Writing the words in ink as permanent as her love mingling with his in the air, he penned the title to the song that would change everything, the only question he felt he could never ask her.

Could you be happy here with me?

Blurb List here. :)

-TheHuntersHuntress xx

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