#‘as long as the united states stands and we will stand forever’ fucking chilling

[lesbianpegbar]

i hope joe biden rots in hell

[unsaidmar]

One, The meeting.

Plot: Both Spencer and Olivia mourn their losses. Maybe doing it together works best.

WC: 2k, I get carried away.

CW: Brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m very excited to share this. I submitted it for a creative writing assignment last week and I thought I would share it here too. This is the first time I post what I write and I kinda want to make this a series.

Olivia knew pain was lighter on the shoulders when carried with someone else, she was completely aware of the fact that pushing her friends and loved ones away was the last thing you’d want to do when grieving. Didn’t stop her, though. Opening up was a conscious effort she had to make.  

Lia had been gone exactly 467 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last.  Her mom had told her that pain didn’t have an expiration date, that she shouldn’t worry about getting over Lia’s death sooner than she was ready to, but nothing could help the feeling in the back of her mind, the little voice that reminded her that the world did not stop spinning when she left. Even if she felt like it did.

Mornings were almost automatic at this point. Get up, make an effort to look better, grab an excuse for breakfast, promise mamá you’ll get something else on the way to work, drive mindlessly to the place you knew like the back of your hand. The Grey Roots was special, it seemed to transform people’s perspective as soon as they walked in, it was full of memories and knowledge. That much was true for Spencer Reid.

Maeve had been gone exactly 278 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last. The team did their best to navigate around Spencer’s grief, always taking hints the he dropped. A fake smile that meant “we can ignore my loss today”, a shrug accompanied with the ghost of a smile that meant “today I’m feeling better, but I’m not expecting it to last”, and the words “I’m fine, I promise”, that roughly translated to “this is manageable today, so don’t ask me about it”.

The love and sense of protection the BAU had over Spencer was instinctual, which was hard when he seemed to be a thousand miles away while standing right there. Morgan had said that if isolation was what he needed right now, isolation he was going to get, but always with the promise of his friends running straight to him if he needed the comfort.

On his days off, he tried coming to terms with the loss. Loss was a tricky thing, Spencer thought. By definition, it was the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value, so if it meant the absence of something, why did it feel like loss went with him everywhere?

The Grey Roots was a landmark in the man’s life. Maeve had recommended he visit the museum while they were corresponding, which he was more than happy to do, always trying to find a way to feel closer to her than he could actually be. Now his visits changed in nature, he was there to reminisce. To try and get the optimistic feeling of loving her to come back.

The stranger that usually walked around the museum with files in her hands went unnoticed for a while, but to her, Spencer had never gone unnoticed. She had been watching him his last four visits, visits that were a lot closer together than the usual visitors liked, which naturally, sparked her interest. She was drawn to him, always turning her head to check if he was there and her eyes lingering for a beat too long to try and come up with an excuse to start a conversation.

Olivia cared very little about dating and would usually turn down people’s advances, but as he sat there, earbuds in and basking in the sunlight the botanical garden side of the museum had to offer, she couldn’t help but hope he was one of those ballsy men that usually approached her. Apparently, the gods felt bad for Ollie, because as Spencer stood up to go, a book slipped out of his bag onto the floor. Oblivious to it, he kept walking.

“Thank the fucking gods” Ollie whispered to herself as she made a beeline for the book. Trying to reach the tall guy, she elbowed her way through the people walking in front of her and tapped him on the shoulder. Play it cool, dork.

“Hey” she said trying to get her breath back. “You dropped this back there” She tried not to fixate on the way his curls looked with the sun shining directly on them, or on the way his eyes took in her presence.

“Oh, thank you so much” He rushed out, grateful that he didn’t have to lose the last thing that connected him to Maeve and cursing himself for being so careless.

Make conversation, now. Say something. Anything. “I take it that’s important, you look relieved” she giggled to try and appear chill. Failing miserably, of course.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Beat of silence. “It is. It was a gift” He answered looking down at his feet, holding on to the book like it might disappear if he doesn’t.

Now, genuinely relieved she could spare him the disappointment, Ollie looked up at him. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t have to lose it” She replied, mirroring Spence’s thoughts, which made him smile.

To the doctor, looking at her felt almost offensive to Maeve’s memory, like she could see him staring curiously at this kind stranger whose eyes were enticing enough to make him forget how to talk. His best friend JJ was the best at reading his expressions and figuring out what he was thinking, she was smart enough to know Reid felt guilty for wanting to move on and leave the pain behind, so she made sure he knew that no one expected him to act like a widower forever, not even Maeve. After all, no one tells you how long you’re expected to mourn a loss, there’s no unspoken rule of appropriate sulking time. 278 days later still felt like too soon and just about enough at the same time. Strangely enough, he wanted to keep talking to this girl, and it would have to start with an introduction.

“I’m Spencer”

“I’m Olivia, but please call me Ollie” or call me anything you want.

“Ollie, good” he let out a giggle that was uncharacteristic of him to say the least. Mainly because he had never made it this far into a conversation with someone as pretty as Ollie. “You work here” It wasn’t a question, he noticed the plaque pinned to her shirt that read Dr. Olivia Vega, Conservator.

“Yes, I’m one of the conservators here. I know I might not look like it, but I promise I know my stuff” This observation prompted Spencer to give her a once over and he smiled at how right she was. She was wearing black cargo pants and a simple lavender t-shirt she seemed to have cropped herself, her arms were covered with little tattoos and her dark hair had streaks of purple in it. She was a sight to see, and hadn’t she been so kind and smiley, Spencer would’ve been intimidated by her. “My mom always says I look like I dropped out of high school to form my own punk band” She added, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of agree with her now that I think about it, but I have a doctorate in history and that’s not very punk”

“Well, I’m a federal agent but I look like my grandpa, so I’m right there with you”

You do not look like a grandpa. “A federal agent, huh? The wall-climbing, gun-shooting, vest-wearing kind?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit so the work I do revolves around profiling people, we try to narrow down the suspect pool by studying the way the crime was committed and making educated guesses about what kind of person would do that and the possible motives behind it. I also have doctorates, but not in history” He said, glad he could sound cool in front of what appeared to be the coolest human ever. Maeve doesn’t mind you moving on, he repeated to himself.

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t introduce yourself as ‘Doctor so and so, but you can call me Spencer’ I think you’re nice and not full of yourself” Ollie joked. “I would have been super intimidated if you’d lead with that”

Is she a witch or am I thinking out loud? “You should see the people I work with. I look like a 12-year-old boy compared to them” She erupted in laughter, causing Spencer to blush. “I’m not kidding, they call me ‘kid’ and ‘pretty boy’”

They got that right, you are pretty. “No way, my older co-workers call me ‘kid’ too! And I’m their boss. The least they could do is call me Doctor Kid.” She pretended to pout.

A mom with a stroller trying to walk past them made the two realize they were still standing in the middle of the path, so entirely entertained with each other that they didn’t notice the third-grade class that had just passed them. As if the realization had struck them both at the same time, they looked back at each other, both of them trying to stretch the interaction as long as they could.

“Do you, maybe, want to have this conversation somewhere else? Perhaps not in the middle of the crowd?” She asked hopefully.

Taken aback by the offer, Spencer agreed and followed her back to her office, that looked exactly like he would expect it to. A bunch of framed pictures with friends and family covered the wall to his left, she had a jean jacket full of pins hanging behind the door and a bunch of miscellaneous books on a bookshelf right behind her desk, all of them with post its sticking out and what he assumed were her bookmarks.

After offering him coffee, they talked about all the things they had in common and relished on the things they didn’t. It was refreshing to get out of their heads and talk about something other than what stage of grief they were in. Spencer was glad that Ollie had approached him first, otherwise he wouldn’t have met her or even know she existed. A text from Penelope brought him back to reality and he sighed at his phone when he read it.

“I have to go, we got a case” He said, annoyed.

Ollie tried to mask her disappointment with an airy laugh, “Oh those fucking serial killers, so rude of them to interrupt our conversation”

Come on, Spencer. Say you want to see her again. Maeve doesn’t mind. Faster than he could process, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I want to see you again” He declared; eyes wide, afraid he came on too intense.

“Well, what a coincidence. I want that too.” She smirked, thanking the gods for all the love they seemed to be showing her today. She took a bright pink sharpie from her drawer and scribbled her number on Spencer’s palm. “Please, don’t wash your hand before you save the number”  She hoped she hadn’t blown her cover as the chilliest most relaxed person ever with that one sentence that sounded like she was begging him to call her. He took out a little white card from his bad and handed it to her.

‘SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit’. Two phone numbers were displayed along with the FBI logo. Which made Ollie look up to question it.

“Bottom one is my personal line; top one is the work phone” He anticipated the question.  

The shit eating grin he was wearing did not go unnoticed by her friends back at the BAU, but he brushed them and their raised eyebrows right off. This whole thing with Ollie was his to keep. At least for the moment.

That night, even though spent in a dingy motel a few minutes out of Redding, Pennsylvania, Spencer slept better than he had in 278 days. He wasn’t an outgoing person at all, he didn’t ask for numbers, he didn’t agree to have coffee in some stranger’s office, he didn’t text bright pink numbers sloppily written on his hand. But maybe the way they met was a sign that he should, maybe, no matter the outcome, he wanted to see where this led. Not even sure what this was.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey, this is Spencer. I didn’t wash my hand” sent at 2:13 am.

“I mean, I did. Just not until I texted you” sent at 2:13 am.

Back at her own apartment, Ollie made a mental note to go visit Lia so she could hear all about the handsome man she had met. Following the advice her therapist had given her, she took out the notepad she had devoted to the letters she wrote her and started writing what she would give anything to be able to say to her face.

[peter-parkourwrites]

Heartbreak Summer 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes broke your heart two years ago. Now, after settling down finally in college with your group of old and new friends, he ́s transferred into your school, and maybe back into your heart.

Word Count: uhhh idk

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, slight thor x reader, jealous buckaroo, crying, fluff if you squint

A/N: TAG LIST IS OPEN!! Also uhhh sorry this is a lil late my laptop is broken and i can’t use the schools to post it here so i had to improvise and use my phone for it so thats also why it’s not edited completely 😤 but thank you for reading 💖

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading loves, I hope you guys like it!

*Gif not mine, credit to owner*

series masterlist

It’s hard to actually pinpoint the exact moment you fell for Bucky, it always has been. Maybe it was when you met. Steve had invited you and Wanda out to one of their highschool football games because he knew Tony would tag along, and you were almost certain he would ask if he was coming. That night he simply ignored anything anyone besides Tony said, leaving yourself, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda to chat. Bucky's whole aura made you giddy, he kept you on your toes and laughing. His blue eyes reminding you of an ocean, that you wouldn’t mind drowning in. Or maybe it was when he saw you walking home in the pouring rain and offered you a ride in his mom's minivan.

Sure, you tell people forever. But that’s only because you’re a bit prone to dramatics. James Buchanan Barnes had your heart, and always would. No matter how many people you dated, you’d always be his. And you realized that, lying awake at five am, the sunrise peeking in through the windows, and showing how much dust you really had in the small room.

“Steve I told you, it’s fine. I’m not mad. A little annoyed, but not mad. I just wish you would have told me.” You sighed, taking the cup of coffee his outstretched arm was holding. “Besides I am so over him. And I have more important shit to focus on than thinking about old flames.”

“What like school? Psh that shit is boring.”

“Wow I must be in another world, first Bucky comes back, and now Steve Rogers is saying ‘shit’? I should just head down to the psych unit in the medical department.” You tease, bringing the cup up to your lips.

“Please, (y/n/n) you work on that floor anyways.”

“Hey! It’s not by choice you idiot, my professor wants us to switch things up every few weeks. But thankfully I start my internship soon.”

“With professor Coulson?”

“Yeah.” You hum and walk over to the couch, that has a plethora of pillows tossed about. “Starting on the pediatric floor I think.” You mumble into the cup of coffee as you slowly lift it up to your lips for another ling sip.

Steve sits across from you on the old black recliner he’s had since you could remember. He loved that squeaky old thing. Even if everytime he actually reclined in it, it’d send him flying violently backwards.

“That’ll be cool, you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Only because of Becca, I called her earlier and told her about it, and she reminded me of when Bucky, you and I had to take care of her. Man that whole weekend was a mess.”

“Yeah we had to beg his parents not to leave us alone for the weekend ever again.” He laughed, crossing an arm over his chest like he was on SNL. You rolled your eyes and finished the rest of the coffee.

“Oh whatever, anyways thanks for letting me come over at ungodly hours.” You grinned, kicking your legs up on the rest of the couch and craning your head to the side to look at him. Steve nodded and placed his cup on the table.

“I’m always here to talk, you know that (Y/N).”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” You groaned, grabbing a pillow from beside you and tossed it at him. He caught it without a glance and turned on the TV. “Showoff…” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face the now illuminated screen, as a rerun of Law and Order started playing.

You and Steve lounged around for a good hour and a half, now being around seven. He got up to make breakfast for everyone while you clicked through the guide.

“You guys have shitty TV, this is all football.” You moaned, dramatically flopping against the back of the couch. “Don’t you guys ever watch anything interesting? Like The Simpsons, or Criminal Minds? At least one of you has to be a sucker for crime documentaries.”

“That would be me.” Sam announced his arrival as he walked out from the hallway and to the front door as a rapid knocking was heard. He pulled open the door and Tony came rushing in, hair disheveled and eyes wide.

“I thought you died!” He yelled, waving his arms around wildly in your direction.

“We told you she wasn’t dead.” Nat said with a groan as she walked in behind him, dragging a half asleep Wanda behind her. “Hey hun, he woke us up yelling that you were gone.”

“He made up,” Wanda yawned, “So many theories…” She groaned and flopped down on the couch, laying her head on your thighs. You chuckled and patted her forehead, continuing to scroll past the plethora of sports channels.

“Like what?” You asked, turning your head slightly to glance at Tony. He was having a hushed chat with Steve and turned his attention back to you, now holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh ya know, you an Buckaroo getting back together, you got drunk and left the apartment without even knowing, or Thor had asked you to go over for a quickie.”

“Gross!” You hissed, chucking the remote at him. It went sailing past him and landed on the floor with a thud. “We do not have quickies.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a huff of air.

“Hey does anyone know how Buck takes his coffee?” Steve asked, eyes scanning over the different creamers.

“Black with two sugars. Unless it’s from Starkbucks, then creamer. Says it’s too bitter” You said, the words flying out of your mouth before you could even stop them. The kitchen went silent and you faked innocence as Nat raised a brow at you for an explanation. “What?!” You yelped and raised your hand in defense. “We dated for three years, and it's not like it’s that hard to remember.”

“Uh-huh just keep telling yourself that you love sick fool.”

“Tony shut up I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yessss.” He said in a sing-song voice as Steve walked over with a plate of pancakes. Wanda sat up from your lap, only to move beside you. Nat sat on the floor next to Sam who kept picking food off her plate, you could have sworn Nat threatened to stab him at least twice. Steve sat in his usual recliner, and Tony sprawled out next to you on the couch.

“Jesus what did I miss?” Bucky’s raspy morning voice filled your ears, and you shuddered, a chill running down your spine. You shook it off by reaching for the syrup.

“Pancakes and yelling.” Wanda beamed up at him before grabbing the syrup from your hand. “Share.” She muttered, sending you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at her before beginning to dig in to your second pancake.

“(Y/N) never shares her food.” Bucky chuckled and began fixing two plates of food. Shooting him a cold glare, you finally looked at him. His long locks were an absolute mess, per-usual in the mornings, he had black basketball shorts, hanging low on his waist and he was shirtless. You gulped, your eyes not daring to scan his god like body.

But you failed, like usual. And oh you wished you hadn’t looked. He still looked as if he was sculpted by the gods, that much was obvious but there we small red and purple marks littering his collarbones. Hickies.

You gulped down the last bite of your food and with a shaky hand, placed the plate on the coffee table.

Sensing your mood change Nat sat up, but still chewed on her blueberry pancakes. Wanda already had a hand pressed up against your lower back, but you brushed her off as you stood up.

“Actually James, I do, just not with you.” You muttered, before walking over to your stuff. You pulled Thor’s sweatshirt from the back of your chair and slipped it over your head, then stuffed your phone into your pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have class and I’d rather not be here when your little… plaything wakes up.” With that, you opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut. Then you took off down the hall to your own apartment and threw yourself in.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted, tripping over furniture, tears already spilling from your eyes.

You did have class, that much was true. Then you had a study group with some lower-classmen you were helping in biology. So you weren’t really lying, even if it was at noon, not eight in the morning. But you had to get out of there, you could barely hold yourself together seeing him alone after a one night stand, but seeing him with the girl? No way in hell you would have kept it together. Not like this.

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, rubbing under your eyes. Red cheeks replaced the pale ones you had moments before, and the bags under your eyes were way more noticeable. Turning on the faucet, you splash your face with cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

“Get it together…” You muttered, not even wanting to look at yourself in such a disheveled state.

-

“No that’s not right.” Peter’s voice became a distant memory, your head falling limp in your palm as you fought against the sleep that was pulling your eyelids closed.

After the mini reality check from earlier, you managed to take a quick shower, and throw your hair up into a ponytail. You looked presentable at best, but it was better than not showing up at all. You managed to toss on one of Thor’s old sweatshirts you stole, along with a pair of leggings, and some slippers. Because the weather was surprisingly cold for early fall.

“Sorry, what?” You blinked as MJ tapped your shoulder.

“Peter wants to know why blood sugar levels are so important.” She mumbled, not even sparing you a glance, her nose dug into a book.

“Because, Our blood sugar refers to how much glucose is present in the blood. Glucose is important for cells to be able to make energy and build other complex carbohydrates. However, too much glucose can be toxic for the body. So we need to know if it becomes too much, or too little. You should know this.”

“And you Miss (Y/N), shouldn’t be falling asleep.” Peter teased, sticking his tongue out at you as you shot him a glare.

“Listen kid, I didn’t sleep last night and I haven’t had enough coffee. Stark is dropping me off some.”

“Just get the coffee from the front desk.”

“Parker I am going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Library coffee is horrible. I need fresh brewed from home, or Dunkin.”

“Oh or that nice little place on Manhattan blvd.” Ned added and you nodded, shooting him a warm smile.

“Yes, the absolute best.”

“I heard my name.” Tony said with a grin as he placed the steaming cup in front of you.

“If you mean the absolute worst? Then yes, yes you did.”

“Harsh, I have been wounded. Maybe I’ll just drink this coffee myself.” The brunette mutters, pulling the cup just out of your reach and taking a small sip. You shriek violently and fling your textbook at him. Tony simply steps out of the way before shooting you a sly grin.

You let out an annoyed groan, standing up from the chair and picking up your textbook, and that's when Tony really sees what you're wearing.

He knows this small step back into what you used to be, like dipping your toe into the pool to test the water before diving in.

Under Thor’s blue sweatshirt, is one of Bucky's red henleys. He had plenty, they were his favorite shirt. And he’d be damned if they ever got stolen… by anyone other than you of course.

Tony's breath catches in his throat as you yank the sweater back over the fabric to refrain from prying eyes of passerbys, your friends, and most importantly Bucky.

“Y/N-”

“Please don’t…” You choke out, holding back a soft cry. He nods, understanding, but not ready to completely let it all go. He places a gentle hand on your wrist and waits for you to look up at him. Your eyes are slowly turning puffy and red, even more so than they already were. Your free hand is picking at imaginary lint and he lets out a sigh.

“Okay… not here.” He confirms and shakes his head at your pleading face, that's begging him to drop the subject completely.

Tony doesn’t give in to the puppy dog eyes that make everyone else but him and Natasha melt. He places a short peck to your forehead, hands you your coffee and walks off after saying a quick hello to Peter.

You clear your throat, take a small sip of the now lukewarm liquid and sit back down in the creaky hard chair.

“Sorry, where were we?” You ask, looking around the room instead of the freshman in front of you.

“Lets get some lunch.” MJ announces, abruptly standing up and shoving her books into her bag, clearly over the study session.

Of course she was done with the study session, anymore talk about isotopes and she might have exploded. But she also noticed how uncomfortable you got when Tony had started whispering to you. She had some inkling as to why. When you were a senior in highschool, she was a freshman. It was uncommon for the two classes to mingle but you and her got along great. Her, Peter, and Ned were tossed into an AP Calculus class, and you of course had gotten stuck with them. But it wasn't all bad, yourself and MJ had often made snarky comments towards the boys, and would mumble obscenities under your breath as the teacher would get things mixed up. MJ was observant, and quite the character, so when you and Bucky had split up, she knew it immediately.

Everyone was truly shocked when you both split. Bucky had left for Europe the day after, and you showed up to school, alone, with puffy eyes. She recalls when you were taking your final the next day you had ran out in the middle of it, tears pooling down your cheeks.

And she resented him a little for it, but then again she didn ́t know what happened, and she didn't know why, and she didn't know Bucky.

But it wasn't like it was rocket science to figure out that he was what had you so shaken up. MJ heard a rumor about him coming back, but refrained from saying anything because… a rumor is just that, a stupid rumor. And she didn't want to upset you if she didn't have to.

“I want the extra crispy grilled cheese.”

“You get that every time Ned.” MJ grumbled as she scanned over the blackboard that held all the options on the menu.

“Okay but it’s really good.” You chimed in grinning at MJ, you pulled out your wallet as everyone ordered and reached out to pay. Peter shrieked and smacked at your hand, shaking his head.

“No no no my treat, you always help us with studying and we don’t even pay you. Let me get this.”

“Such a gentleman…” You cooed, giving him a cheeky grin. “But its work study so I get paid anyways.” Peter simply shrugged you off and handed the cash to the cashier, who grunted in response. You recognized the kid from your Economics class, and attempted to wave but he simply turned away to grab your food.

~

“I still don’t see why you didn’t want to go out tonight.” Wanda muttered as she handed you a bag of goldfish to snack on.

“Because I have homework, and I have an econ test to study for. Plus it’s movie night.”

“Econ can suck my dick.”

“Who’s sucking whose dick?” Sam muttered as he flopped down on the love seat, hanging his feet off the side.

“Econ is sucking Wanda's dick because I didn’t want to go out.”

“Well it is movie night Wands, we can't just skip it.” Nat hissed, curling up on the longer couch, settling herself comfortably beside Wanda.

“Not like everyone shows up all the time.” Wanda muttered before leaning forward and cradling the warm cup in her hands. “Where the hell are Steve and the other asshole. Or were going to start without them.”

“Relax ladies we’re here.” Bucky announced, giving Sam and cheeky grin. He nudged his legs off the side to sit, but Sam shook his head and kicked his legs back up.

“What movie’s first?” Steve asked pulling out the large box of DVD’s from behind the TV stand.

It was a large clear plastic bin with half scratched off stickers. The memories of Becca sticking them all over Bucky’s things was fresh in your mind as you stared off into the distance. She’d constantly have any sort of glittery, scented, or stickers with her favorite foods on them. When Bucky had shown up to take you to prom, there was a pink glittery heart on his shoulder.

“I vote we watch Terminator.”

“Sam we always watch that movie.”

“Yeah well get used to it (Y/N) it’s a good movie.”

“Well I for one think we should watch The Princess Bride.” Wanda announced as she dug her hand into a bag of M&M’s.

“Nope, we’re watching The Lost Boys.” You said, standing up and grabbing the box out of Steve's hand. He rolled his eyes and stood up, moving to sit in your spot.

“That shitty eighties movie about the vampires? No thanks.” Sam groaned and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. You scoffed, placing the disk in the player and turning to face him, your hands resting on your hips.

“Shut your trap, it’s a good movie.” You hissed, sticking your tongue out at him. He gave you a playful wink and turned his attention to the screen. Surveying the area around you, you noticed Steve was now occupying your seat. Pursing your lips, a small groan left your lips. The only empty seat was next to Bucky.

Unwillingly you trudged over and plopped down beside him, your heart obviously had a different plan from your brain.

Curling your legs up into your chest, and resting your head on your knees you relaxed as best as you could beside him and focused on the movie.

The movie played quietly in the background of your thoughts as you wondered why he came back. You thought he loved it over there, from what Steve had told you, he was having a wonderful time. But then again, Steve was never good with translating sarcasm. No matter if it was in person or over text. He sucked at it, plain and simple.

Bucky also wondered why he came back sometimes. He missed his friends, his sister, and his home… you.

Bucky had always lived a hectic life. He grew up beside Steve, ever since birth they had been close. Their mothers were friends so it was only natural the pair would become close.

Steve eventually went from a scrawny kid with asthma who had a knack for fighting bullies to, Steve the football player, no longer stricken with the burden of not being able to breathe. A chick magnet, who was so kind to girls it was almost unbelievable he hadn’t dated anyone.

And then Steve met Y/N. You became fast friends and Bucky could have sworn you knew one another since you were born just like him and Steve. He had met you in sophomore year. Three years, and Steve had finally introduced him to you. But it wasn’t just simple you. Bucky was introduced to the person who changed his life. A beautiful girl who he swore made his heart beat louder than it ever had. But of course, Bucky thought you and Steve were in love. You were the only one who he allowed to refer to him as ‘Stevie.’ He hated that nickname, but not when you said it. So Bucky backed off, until your large group of friends all got smashed at a party and Steve embarrassingly kissed some dude on the track team. You practically burst with joy for him for finally doing it and all Bucky could do was sit there, beer in a cup now warming due to the burning in his hand, where you gripped it in pure joy for your shared best friend.

It was then that Bucky had made it his plan to get you to fall for him in the same way he fell for you. It was easier said than done, but he eventually won your heart.

You became his favorite person. The one he would constantly visit, and stop whatever he was doing to see you. You became his home.

He thought your voice was smooth like honey, and as sweet as the sugar his mom would put on his cheerios when he was younger. Your voice would seep into the cracks of his soul, to remind him he’d always have you.

He even had you now, as your head rested against his shoulder, the rest of your body slumped against the back of the couch. Soft snores rang through his ears, focusing only on you. He’d be damned if he or anyone else woke you up. The movie ended about an hour ago, and everyone had gone to bed. But not without some snide or silly comments on how you were cuddled up against him.

However, he paid no mind to them. All he thought about was how he missed your arms around him, your body heat radiating off of you, keeping him impossibly warm. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla filled his nostrils as he relaxed all parts of his body but his right arm where you were curled up against. An odd position, yeah but for you? He’d fall out of a plane if it meant keeping you safe. (I’m sorry forgive me for that reference lol)

He felt you stir beside him, and Bucky froze, his breath halted in his lungs as he very slowly glanced down towards you. Your face scrunched up as you wiped at your cheek, after pulling up from his shoulder. Your eyes blinked open, and Bucky quietly watched your eyelashes kiss at your cheeks every time they fluttered shut. He froze again, praying you wouldn’t freak out, and that you’d calmly get up and go to bed, or curl up next to him again.

You chose neither and sat up fully, hunching forward and grabbing the remote from the coffee table.

“‘Nother movie?” You asked, leaning back against the couch and looking over at him. He nodded and focused his gaze on the screen as you chose a crappy netflix original. “ ‘M sorry for falling asleep on you by the way…” You mumbled, running your fingers through your hair. Bucky let out a faint chuckle and shook his head.

“I’m happy to be your headrest doll, long as you don’t drool.”

“Shut up Buck, that was one time…” You groaned, lightly punching his shoulder. He just shook his head and kept his eyes trained on your face, and he swore he saw a hint of a smile curling at your lips.

Smiling at him? Maybe, he could only hope.

Discarding the thought, much to fast for his own taste, he busied himself by grabbing some popcorn and tossing it into his mouth.

Maybe one day he’d work up the courage to actually talk to you, not some silly banter that was somewhere on the cusp of anger and misread feelings from old times… maybe.

—

TAGLIST: @thatsbucknasty @itz-kira @cassandras-musings @petlaufeyson @itzmegaaaaaaan @ambrosesnerd @thatoneslytherinbeater @sebastianstan-posts @retrxbarnes @nervosaa @vvinch3st3r @lost-in-t-h-e-abyss @spn-obession @greeneyedgirls4 @learisa @avipshamitra @uaterer @aletteredaffair @formulafun @smexy-bucky-waifu @jitterbuck @marvelsbitxh @justanothergirlwithdemons @blueeyedboobear @ladymidnightt @greatballsofeffingfire @kaithezaftig @cookies186 @mywinterwolf @buckysthing @postredetucora @coraz0ndcristal @mc225g @section-79 @eves-library

[scav-eng-er]

Hold Me Tight. Modern Reylo AU

I have never cried so hard writing something as I did now. This story is based on “If The World Was Ending.” I have no words, but I’m still crying. 

Here is the song if you would like to listen to it while you read!

For @reylo-trash-4ever and @mojona1999, this is for you two! Surprise. im emotional.

My next chapter will be up this weekend. Thank you!

Ben wasn’t even paying attention to the news when it went public. He bustled about his apartment, distracted by the worries of potentially burning his lunch. His toast was burning, his coffee was starting to get cold and he didn’t bother looking at the pile of mail building on his kitchen island.

“Alert. Alert,” A mechanical voice echoed into his living room. “We interrupt your programming. This is a national emergency.”

The annoyingly familiar weather storm alert pulled his attention, but what worried him was that he could also hear it above his floor, below and around. Everyone’s televisions were broadcasting this..?

“The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has detected a significant environmental event that will impact the greater United States. You and your loved ones should seek the nearest fallout shelter immediately. Please stand by for further area updates.”

The screen went black.

I was distracted and in traffic I didn't feel it when the earthquake happened

Ben’s blood went cold.

Fuck, this was actually happening?

The fallout shelters scattered around the city was just a precaution months ago. Were people going to take this seriously? There’s no way an entire city could fit in those bunkers. He recalled seeing them on the news when the first and only environmental threat was near the city. The mayor decided to construct poorly developed “safe houses” to appease the worried citizens. However, most of the city (and the world) tossed the fear aside like a usual storm that would soon be forgotten.

A cry and scream could be heard in his building. A chill went down his spine. Grabbing his phone, Ben went to message the first person he could think of. He ignored the shaking in his hands, fear of the inevitable closer than he ever thought. He just wanted to see her.

But it really got me thinkin', were you out drinkin'?

Were you in the living room, chillin', watchin' television?

Wait. Should he text her? Should he call her? They haven’t spoken in almost a year. Hell, the last time they actually spoke face to face, she was returning his hoodie. Her favorite hoodie. She always loved how much it smelled like him, and he loved when she wore it. God, he missed her. He missed her hugs and how she made him feel so relaxed. The stress of life was nonexistent when she was with him, and his heart would still flutter when she walked in the room. They still acted like lovesick teenagers sometimes, even after their three year relationship. Which is why it hurt so much when they ended it.

What was she doing right now? Surely she must’ve heard these news too. She was usually home now, and she could’ve seen the report as well. Was she alone? Was she scared? Of course she was probably scared, he was fucking terrified. He didn’t want her to be alone, he didn’t want to be alone. He thought about visiting his mom and dad’s graves, but it wouldn’t matter. He would see them soon enough. Who would want to spend their last minutes of life in a cemetery?

It's been a year now, think I've figured out how

How to let you go and let communication die out

Ben could still hear cries from the building, but now there were prayers, and he heard others hurry down the main staircase. The sunny day outside continued on, and birds chirped away, unaware of their imminent doom in who knows how long. He looked at his phone, no new messages. Ben was a loner, he would admit that. His only other friends were because of Rey. They would tag along on dates or go to parties together. Poe even spent the night at his place a few times and the boys would go to games together. After the break-up, they all kind of disappeared, and Ben didn’t blame them. He missed them. He missed her.

He missed their drunken confessions of love at the bar, Poe, Finn and Rose laughing around them. Not a care in the world as he held her close to his heart.

He missed their predictable and routine mornings of kisses, coffee and witty discussions on the way out the door to work.

He missed their arguments, the late night screams turned to sobs turned to moans among his sheets at 3 a.m.

I know, you know, we know you weren't

Down for forever and it's fine

I know, you know, we know we weren't

Meant for each other and it's fine

He watched the screen, re-reading their last messages to one another. It was almost like any minute he expected her to call, her face surprising him on his home screen. Tears brimmed as the reality of what was happening settled in. The potential future he had imagined was gone and Ben choked back a sob. Everything he ever wanted to do would cease to exist, he never got to see the world, get married or have his own children. All these things he could’ve done with Rey, cut short by life itself.

Ben:

You don’t have to respond, but know that I’m always here for you for anything.

Anything.

That message held more meaning now that it had then, and Ben prayed Rey would understand that. He would do anything to try and make her happy again, for the last few hours they had to live, he was hers. Even if she didn’t want him. He wiped his arm across his wet eyes, not caring that he looked like a weeping mess.

Then, at the corner of his eye, he saw it.

Adrenaline swept down his arms and through his body at the three dot indicator that appeared across his last message. She was thinking about him! She was writing to him! Did she want to see him? Why else would she be messaging him now? Then as quick as they appeared, the dots were gone.

“Fuck.”

In a heartbeat, Ben was out his door.

But if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

You'd come over and you'd stay the night

Not even remembering where his feet took him, Ben found himself outside hurrying towards her home. The sight of the public only made him walk faster, not wanting to waste another minute away from her in this state of chaos. Cars swerved down the streets, people running around him, some carrying bags, others carrying children. It was as disastrous as those end-of-the-world movies Ben had seen, only this time, it was actually happening. The sky was still blue and the trees gave off a vibrant, peaceful green in the summer day. The crowds and shouting in the streets however, brought him back to the realization that in a few hours, they would all be nothing.

An argument broke out over a vehicle and people began to get physical. Ben continued on. He just pushed his way down the city streets. Avoiding any conflict was a priority for him, hoping he would make it to her in one piece. The feeling of being in her arms again felt so good to him, like he was coming home. Her place wasn’t always clean, and she always had the TV volume up too loud, or let dishes in the sink too long, but it always felt like he could come and go as he wanted and she would always give him a kiss hello or goodbye. When Ben was home with Rey, he felt wanted.

And even though he only saw those three dots, it was enough for him to hope he still was.

Would you love me for the hell of it?

All our fears would be irrelevant

The last thing Ben wanted to think about was their break-up. None of that mattered anymore, at least to him it didn’t. He continued to think about her, blocking out the horrors of the world around him. Her smile replaced his fear, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the time she slipped in front of his apartment after a snow storm. The pizza she picked up was okay, but she had a nasty bruise on her hip for days.

Soon there would be no more pizza nights, no more weekend trips, no more surprise birthday parties, no more cuddles in the dark. At least, when they broke up, there was still the chance he could have that again, with Rey or someone else. But now, Ben realized there was no other person he wanted to spend his life with but her.

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

The sky'd be falling and I'd hold you tight

His feet propelled him on the corner of her street. He could see the top of her building, higher than the others around it. The tears began to fall again as he hurried to the entrance. The feeling of seeing her, being around her, holding her was enough to break him down forever. She was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough. He wrapped his hand around the railing and heaved himself, two steps at a time to her floor. He left his house for the last time, he breathed outside air for the final time, and he would see no other face but hers. Almost panting, her front door sent chills down his spine. He was saying good-bye to everything else, but was about to greet his whole world.

And there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

Ben’s fist shook, him knocking on her door could hardly be heard over the sound of the blood rushing around his brain.

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? Right?

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? Right?

~~~

Her eyes only widened at the screen in front of her. The black, and eerie alert had proven that all the storms, disasters, and unexplainable occurrences that had been happening were warnings of what was to come. And now it was here.

I tried to imagine your reaction

It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened

She fiddled with her phone, her toes curling under her on the couch. It was flooded with heartfelt messages from her friends, saying good-bye, that they loved her and hoped she was happy wherever she was.

“Peanut, I will never forget how much light you brought into my life. You helped me live with passion and found why I was put on this Earth. You will always be my Rey of sunshine. I love you.”

Finn. She just saw him yesterday when they went to the gym together.

“Rey, you are the best friend anyone could ask for. You have lived a life worth living and deserve every breath. You saw the best in me and there are no words to describe how much I will miss you, miss everyone, and miss life. I will see you soon amongst the stars. All my love.”

Rose. They were just planning a girls day next week, with shopping, lunch and deciding who’s house they would crash at.

“Hey sweetheart, sure you heard the news… Enjoy the time you have, you are a great gal and I hope you are surrounded by those who matter. God Bless You.”

Poe. She just helped him move some new furniture in last week with her truck, and they laughed after she hit her knee on his coffee table.

Surrounded by those who matter…

Who did matter? As much as she loved the messages, and responded with equal love and admiration, there was only one message, one person that mattered. She wiped away her tears, realizing she hadn’t cried this hard since her parents passed away. Rey was only nine then, but the pain of sobbing at the funeral were as clear as the day outside.

She pulled up his messages, never having the courage to delete them. His face on his contact was comforting to see, and she scrolled through their old conversations. Shivers went down her arms, a chill in the room and all Rey wanted was to be held. Her apartment felt colder now, with the rush of everything that happened, she didn’t want to be alone. Her kitchen was still dirty with dishes from this morning, she even had a load of laundry in the basement that she had to get later. None of it mattered, all that mattered was that she wanted him. She noticed the picture frame by her door. It was knocked down one night when Ben couldn’t keep his hands off her after dinner. They didn’t make it to the bedroom, the passion too evident in his kisses on their way home. She had felt so safe in his arms, his heartbeat loud in her ears when he held her close, filling her up with love atop her kitchen counter.

But it really got me thinkin', the night we went drinkin'

Stumbled in the house and didn't make it past the kitchen

Fear suddenly spiked in her and she began to panic, the realization of dying hitting her. In a hurry, she could do the only thing she wanted to do. His last message made her insides warm, remembering how much he cared that she was okay. She wasn’t now.

“Please come over. I’m scared and I need to see you. This is all so stupid and..”

No, no, no she can’t text him! She erased the message and sighed. What was he doing right now? Was he at home? Was he working? She tried not to remember his schedule that was practically engrained in her memory. She knew he was probably home for lunch, so he definitely saw what happened. Maybe he went to the cemetery, or maybe he is out trying to find a way to escape out of the city. Rey didn’t want to be selfish, but what she hoped was that he was thinking of her the same way she thought of him. The feeling of pulling him into her, and taking in all she was made her mind hazy and her heart flutter. He made her feel drunk just by touching her hand, or looking at her a certain way.

Ah, it's been a year now, think I've figured out how

How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

She didn’t need to see what was happening outside, too scared to see the sight. Standing up from her couch, Rey walked around her home. The trinkets and junk she had now had so much meaning. Her kitchen tools that she bought over the years, the photos of her friends, the wobbly shelf she fixed herself held books that helped her learn so much. She had some plants scattered about, the greenery making her home full of warmth and life.

And I know, you know, we know you weren't

Down for forever and it's fine

I know, you know, we know we weren't

Meant for each other and it's fine

And every. Single. Fucking. Thing. Reminded her of him.

The tears flowed freely, and Rey imagined the thousands of memories she had of him. Their mornings at her dining table, their movie nights on her couch. There was even a useless ceramic pigeon thing on her shelf that he got her after a bad day at work to cheer her up. The empty feeling of dying alone frightened her, and she wrapped her cardigan around herself to try and feel better. It was numbing for her. Everyone knew the question: If you only had 24 hours to live, what would you do? People would usually say travel or do something crazy. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Rey always thought it silly to wonder about useless things like that, focusing more on the now and trying to work to support herself.

What would she do?

But if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

You'd come over and you'd stay the night

She would be with Ben. She would confess how much she missed him, how she wanted him back in any way she could. She would forgive him, or beg for his forgiveness, whatever he wanted.

Running her hands through his locks, she would kiss him to the point of exhaustion, hoping he could feel her love through the breathless confessions.

She blinked back tears but they continued to fall. She would go on and on about everything she loved about him. His handsome face, his gentleness, his desire to help others, but also his stubbornness to prove he was right, his anger issues, and his need for approval were just some of the things Rey loved about him.

If he wanted, she would re-tell all their funny stories and make him laugh, desperate to see his smile, to hear his laugh. When she first met him, he was a dark, brooding, man. As she slowly pulled him out of his own mind, Rey noticed how beautiful his smile was. And when she heard him laugh for the first time, she was hooked. Hell, she would even go on about how she fell on the ice after she picked up their pizza for movie night.

It all seemed so silly then, to worry or be embarrassed about that kind of thing. But now, Rey would give anything to relive that moment. If she could go back, she would pull a giggling Ben into the snow with her and kiss him like she never had before.

Would you love me for the hell of it?

All our fears would be irrelevant

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

Sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

Rey would do anything Ben wanted, as long as she was with him. By his side, for the rest of their lives, no matter how short that was. She missed how he smelled, how her felt against her, with his strong arms protecting her from the world she fought so hard against. She was strong, they both knew that. But when he saw her nightmare nights for the first time, she thought he would stop calling, stop talking and she would have to be by herself all over again. It came as a shock when he stayed, and even offered to stay up to wake her before it got too worse again.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

Eventually, the nightmares came less and less. And Rey would wake in his arms, wrapped up and protected. He would rub his thumb against her, as if saying, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He was her dream from the nightmares of reality.

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

You'd come over, right?

You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

She drew out the sounds of the television behind her. The alert continued on for an hour and Rey knew there was nothing more to do. She was about to crawl into bed with music and hope for a quick death when..

Knock knock knock.

I know, you know, we know you weren't

Down for forever and it's fine

I know, you know, we know we weren't

Meant for each other and it's fine

She stood still for a moment, straining to hear. Did someone just knock? Who was knocking on her door now? Should she even answer? She attempted to wipe her eyes, trying to look presentable during the end of the world. She opened the door slowly to see who stood on the other side.

But if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

You'd come over and you'd stay the night

She huffed, struggling to breathe, sobs taking over at the sight of him. Ben rushed through the threshold into her home, arms scooping her into his chest and lifting her off the ground. His heartbeat was still pounding from the nervousness of seeing her beautiful face once again. His breath hot and sweet against her cheek and he whispered, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Afraid he would pull away or even disappear, Rey dug her nails into his back, grabbing him for dear life. Crying into his shoulder, she apologized for everything and anything. He carried her until he collapsed from emotion into the living room, his own tears falling into her sweater and hair, dampening her locks. He held her shaking body in his lap, feeling like they were both where they were supposed to be at the end of it all.

They apologized and cried, shaking with emotion. Happiness to be in each other’s arms again, with fear of the unknown and inevitable. They tried not to think of how much time they wasted with the fighting. Had they known what was to happen, every fight, every argument was nothing compared to their love and need to be together.

Would you love me for the hell of it?

All our fears would be irrelevant

Eventually they became quiet, silent tears dripped on her carpet. Their hands wrapped in the others, their legs entwined, never letting go. The TV was on but muted, soft music played from her stereo instead.

Ben spoke first, “Do you remember,” his voice was groggy and wet from crying, “when you made me run out in the rain to get your phone after you dropped it out the window on the freeway?”

She erupted into laughter, a sound that he could hear forever, “I didn’t drop it, it was the wind.”

Ben rolled his eyes, “Uh huh.”

“What about when you dared me to wear that bunny suit so we would win the costume contest!” Rey exclaimed.

“Well we did win!”

They talked and giggled, the reminder of what was happening outside forgotten. The two were too busy enjoying each others presence, catching up that they didn’t notice the distant bright white light grow brighter on the horizon.  

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

The sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

“Are you still having nightmares?” Ben mumbled, rubbing his fingers between a lock. Her hair still smelled like her citrus shampoo, and the sun casting light on her was a refreshing sight for his eyes.

“Sometimes..,” Rey said, “but this makes up for all of it.”

She pulled his hand from their grip, kissing his palm.

“I’m sorry. I know I shou-“

“Shh. None of that matters now. I’m just happy you’re here.

Ben smiled, “Me too.”

A vibration from the earth began to shake her home, but they didn’t notice. Ben started joking about the infamous pizza night, Rey begged him to stop, planting endless kisses to make him shut up.

“I also heard you hit your knee at Poe’s! What a klutz you are!”

“I knew he told you! What a tattletale!”

No, there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

There was so much love and hope in Ben and Rey’s eyes, they forgot everything that was happening. Ben laughed until tears of sorrow turned into tears of laughter, his stomach ached as Rey told him how she and Rose got off the wrong train stop a few days ago. They were one again, the back of Rey’s mind wondering when their wedding would be, while Ben had thought if he wanted their child to have her hair or his. They had all the time in the world to think about it.

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

It was fast. It was quiet. Their gaze fixed on each other, two souls in love, the bright white light non-existent to them. It shook her home in a millisecond, their smiles forever in the others memory.

If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

[swanmciden-blog]

𝓂𝒾𝓈𝒸 𝒶𝓅𝓅 ( deborah ann woll. female, she/her, bare + wildes. ) supposedly, ROSEMARY AMALIA HARING is a SWAN MAIDEN. they look like they’re THIRTY-FIVE, they act like they’ve been on earth for THREE HUNDRED FIFTY SIX YEARS. i just saw them at ALARA’S ANTIQUES, i think they’re an EMPLOYEE there. at night you can always find them going home to STATEN ISLAND by BUS. (mina, 20, she/her, pst)

time to bomb this, because rosemary is forever fighting me about her story and ‘correcting’me. so lets see how much of a mess this ends up being. BUT, i do hope you come to love her as much as i do.

rosemary is a swan maiden, which is fae women (there are men too but it seems that they are just a little too reckless and either stay human forever because ‘why the fuck do i want to be a swan? that is too delicate for MY MANLY NATURE!’ or they just die because of the wars they have experienced so far) who were born from mortal women and the Fae King of Germany. she was daughter #6, and definitely someone who indulged in everything that meant to be a swan maiden. her sisters would travel across germany, enjoying the nature of their beloved country and living in beautiful bliss from the world outside. 

however, the eldest daughter of the fae king, swanhilde, was kidnapped and taken away by a hunter who desired her as his wife. everyone tried to save her, and nobody fought as much as amalia did. however, nothing could occur without swanhilde’s robe of swan feathers that aided her transform. 

the whole swan family had to watch from a distance as their beloved sister lived a mortal life, aging normally and bearing children and eventually dying of old age. they never could find the robe, and it was a warning to them all to be protective of each other, and to be ready to defend yourself. keep your swan feathers close to you no matter what. 

rosemary and her sisters that she lived with (amelira and heleyns) all moved away from germany, being nomads across europe until they arrived to england and heard about America ! (the united states, specifically) by this time, people could sense the tensions in the air and the arrival of what would be world war i arising. amalia (rosemary), amelira and helenys all decided that they would go to the united states, in hopes of a restart of their lives not only as fae women but as ‘pretend’ human women.  

their life had started over, and though they had a feeling of despair for not having anything anymore, they were able to move forward because they still had the one side that was never unchanging. their fae side remained the same, and it followed them no matter where they met. it seemed that no matter what environment they ended up in, they always transcended the elegance and etheral beauty that swans possessed and many fell for them. it seemed to be harder to shun the people away since they were far more persistent than before. however, it also became easier to fight them off, which rosemary appreciated greatly. 

each sister ended up in different fields. one became a factor worker, the other became a nurse, and rosemary became an office assistant. each lived a life they enjoyed, and it was wonderful.

helenys, a factor worker, was able to find the love of her life, a fae man who ended up taking her away to the greater area of canada. rosemary and amelira were left, and they stuck together like two peas in a pot. 

HOWEVER! All good things come to an end, and rosemary was the next to go unvoluntarily.

she didn’t learn from her sister’s life and ended up having her own robe of swan feathers taken from her by a vampire she had a ravishing one-night stand with. he had been someone she had met through work, and they both had an obvious connection. but as rosemary says to this day, “he was a lonely motherfucker who decided i was going to be his companion for life. you know, nosferatu style. or dracula style.” 

she despises this man to this day, and he has dragged her all around new york as she follows  in hopes to get her swan coat back through murder or other methods. though this man is charming, and though she finds him endlessly attractive, the hate within her body possesses her more and she requires some sort of satisfaction. some sort of REVENGE.

unfortunately, the swan coat has a power over its fae women, and it requires them to be dragged along to the person who possesses, so rosemary hasn’t been able to leave this messed up relation. though, amelira was able to figure out her sister’s mistake and has joined her in her travelling around new york. 

they both had established themselves in Staten Island out of their pure intention. quite frankly, they don’t give a shit about the division that the supernaturals have at the current moment doesn’t make sense, and honestly, staten island is not that bad. 

they both opened an antiques shop, amelira being the main manager while rosemary was the dealer and often the one to go and find these items that they sell.

rosemary is seriously such a “i dont give a shit” lady. she doesn’t necessarily watch people, but she has lived long enough to know human nature and is quite over it all. she is straight-forward, direct, and has no time to sugar coat things. she loves being her own person, she loves living her own life. which makes this sort of plot line so hard on her because she is legit having to follow someone else because they have something of hers. 

rosemary does see herself quite blessed to have been swan maiden, and still to this day wishes she could go revisit that. she wishes to just turn back into her swan self and just enjoy the blissfulness that her life was once again. she is still a fae, but also half mortal. so unlike the seelie, she can lie. and she does, only when necessary. 

okay just think of an embodiment of hollywood stars from the 1920s, 30′s, 40′s. that is her, she is quite visually pleasing, she always looks like an elegant working woman, modern society hasn’t quite reached her. some inspiration are grace kelly, marilyn monroe, and like forest nymphs that are like half naked bathing in rivers, lakes, and oceans. 

she loves taking charge, she loves dressing elegantly, she loves dresses, but she has come to quite enjoy nice pant suits, fancy pants with dress shirts. kind of hipstery business styles. her hair is hella long and wavy, and its gorgeous af. she is super confidant in herself, she is lowkey vain, and is honest about her preferences. 

galas? her shit. business parties? her shit. business meetings? she is gonna fuck it up, kenneth. 

she loves to tease people, so don’t be upset if she teases you. 

um um um, she loves fruit so much. meat is okay, but not her favorite thing. sweet juicy shit? that is her shit. 

just omg. she is something else. i love her. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS !

okay lets do this. i would love fae friends / enemies / frenemies. swan maidens are just what humans and a fae king created in germany. so i’m sure there is either speculations of how they are just second best to the seelie / unseelie. some might just respect them as a separate division of fae species, etcs. jazz dance club friends, who are basically people she has met when she has gone to the local jazz club where jazz is often played. if you can’t tell, rosemary is very much stuck in the past of great music, swing dancing, and swaying to dean martin’s voice in the background as she considers rather to take this man home or not. WITH THAT BEING SAID! One-night stands would be great, exs is great too, current people who have a sort of sexual tension with her, people who are enchanted by her because swan maidens are depicted kind of like mermaids / sirens? just, instead of their voice, their very appearance can be enchanting to the human eye, and you best believe she has a tendency to raise the charm level to 2000% all the time when she sees someone looking at her. i need friends who are like her, 7 Rings Ariana Grande, Who run the World? Girls beyonce style. love strong independent woman and she needs that. customers / regulars at the antique shop, because rosemary loves her history, she loves her antique artifacts, and loves talking about those things. and then, i think rosemary could use a super chill friend who just balances her over-the-top personality. just keep her in check and calm her down when she is ready to fight someone.

just like this, and i will pop up in your ims and WE CAN PLOT! just please, she needs this. 

okay, this was a struggle but im done. byyyeeeeee!!

[forget-it-i-cant-explain-it]

Nightmares or Dreams

I woke up from a very vivid dream this morning. I dreamt that we were both away at some kind of holiday destination but everyone we knew was staying there and so were my parents, weirdly.

It was almost like a giant beach resort in some nameless exotic place.

I dreamt that we saw each other for the first time in over a year and a half up close.

We were both taken by surprise.

Walking through the pool area we both suddenly spotted each other.

You walked straight up to me, I was frozen, paralysed with fear and burning curiosity and before I knew it you were standing mere inches infront of me.

We stared at each other, my heart was jumping, my body burned for you, ached for you. I knew you were feeling the same thing, we could read it in each other eyes. Neither or us said a word. We just stared at one another, feeling each others energy and pain, and desire, and lost love.

We stood there, so close for what felt like an eternity you moved your face towards my cheek as though to whisper something in my ear; I stopped breathing in anticipation and then someone called your name. We were both jarred back to reality from our private world. The reality of the situation flooded back to both of us and I stepped silently backwards without saying a word. Letting out a long sigh you gave me one long piercing look and walked to catch up with your mates.

I stayed cemented to the ground staring into space for an embarrassingly long time. I was trying to wrap my head around what I had just felt. Shame and guilt poured through me at the thought that I could still have felt so connected to you. Finally I rushed to my room so I could unscramble my thoughts and lay my shaking body down.

Quietly weeping into my pillow I thanked god my family wasn’t in the apartment. I felt groggy and strange like I had taken too much medication or something. Time began to slow down and I drifted into a sad sleep wondering if I would have the strength and self respect to resist you.

Suddenly there was a gentle knock on the door, I blearily stumbled towards it my fingers trembling as I turned the door nob.

It was you. You saw my tear stained face and a look of profound sadness and tender love was reflected back across yours . You took a gentle step forward, asking shyly with your eyes if what you were doing was okay. I nodded in micro movements. You stepped closer again your body an inch from the arch of mine, with the slightest of touches you caught a falling tear from my cheek, and wiped it away.

I don’t know who moved first, or if we moved in perfect unison but before I knew it we were in each others arms, squeezing each other as as though we were holding on for dear life.

My stomach flipped uncontrollably and my heart swelled, there was a burning energy between our skin that was intoxicatingly powerful. It wasn’t lust it was the purest form of love. The door closed behind you, we began to kiss. At first softly and then with wild abandon. We moved to the bed and you lay on top of me, lifting my arms above my head, our fingers entwined. You began to slowly kiss your way down my body, as though remembering and memorising every curve, every freckle tracing the entire surface of my skin. We simply lay exploring each other for the longest of times, desperately drinking each other in, afraid of the moment ending.

My desire to become one with you began to over-ride my other thoughts, drowning out the wounded girl inside. You entered me as we held each-others gaze. You were silently crying, a look of wonder and sadness on your face as you saw the love in my eyes.

Suddenly my stomach lurched in a different way. I began to have flashbacks to memories buried deep inside.

I had a flash back to the night we made love on the couch. The night that plays over and over in my dreams. A night so passionate and so full of love it still send chills down my spine. The night you cried on my shoulder as I held you. The night I realised I loved you a thousand times more than I loved myself. The night I swallowed my pain to ease yours. The night I believed we could get through anything. The night I wholeheartedly believed you were invested in growing and changing for our eternal future together.

Many nights before you threw it all away.

Pain began to fill my heart, my chest began to ache, a guttural sob escaped me and you pulled away realising the inevitable shift had come. You collapsed on the edge of the bed grasping chunks of your hair as you hung your head in grief staring at the floor.

We were both united by our pain and divided by its uniqueness.

I begin to cry until I fell asleep.

What feels like hours later I wake up. Confused about whether or not I had just dreamed you coming to my door after our encounter or if it had really happened. I shower and get changed and decide to go looking for my family.

I run into them all back at the pool area where we first met. They seem to be having fun and I struggle to act normal wondering if I should tell them you are here or even worse that I possibly hooked up with you. I order a cocktail in the meantime to try and calm my nerves beginning to relax as my dad shows off embarrassing tricks in the pool, and after a couple more cocktails and the beating sunshine I feel a familiar sleepy haze return.

All of a sudden I hear a unmistakable loud laugh. It’s you with your mates I freeze and slowly open my eyes. I see you walking through the pool area, you haven’t seen me or my family and you are doing that thing you would always do around your male friends. You would start putting on this excessively booming laugh, raise the volume of your voice 10 decibels, walk with your chest puffed out and constantly side glance to make sure they were listening to you or laughing at your joke. It was a dance I hated witnessing. I hated watching you desperately seek their validation, I hated that you changed so much around them. It reminded me of what I always tried to ignore, that there were multiple versions of you.

It also reminded me you would say or do anything with the boys. You would transform into one of the men I despised and dismissed, full of your own bravado, speaking about women as though they were trophies and driven by an insanely competitive need to beat them when it came to getting girls.

It was primal. It was part of the reason you got into so much trouble. It was a road leading nowhere good.

I started looking for my parents to see if they had spotted you yet. Sure enough my dad was frozen mid conversation jaw slightly open. Mum stood beside him her face torn between anger, hurt and compassion her arm resting on dads shoulder as if to say “don’t do anything rash”.

Suddenly Charlies voice rings out “isn’t that Bro….” he trails off as you look over.

He persists: “ How long has it been ?”.

“Almost a year and a half ” you sigh.

I see my dad start moving towards you in the corner of my eye. Suddenly I jump to my feet and I am running to you. I yell “Fuck you” spitting venom, my empty glass shattering on the floor as I push past you. You begin to laugh and loudly and say:

“ Get the fuck over it Bronte, move on”.

I hear yours and your friends laughter echo behind me and full of embarrassment and shame, I don’t look back.

All of a sudden the dream shifts and I am viewing the swimming pool area even though I am not there. I see my dad grab his AFL ball and throw it with extreme precision hitting you in the back of the head knocking you to the ground in surprise. He walks over and picks up the ball staring you dead in the eyes and comments: “ How dare you.You really are pathetic” as he and my family follow after me inside.

Once I am back in the room alone I am wracked with shame and self hatred. I Wonder why I seem to feel things more potently than any one else and why I cannot contain my emotions. I wonder why I cant just forget you like everyone else. The anxiety washes over me as I remember everyone laughing. My mind switches into overdrive as my head fills with things I am sure they all think of me. Lines like:

How can she not be over it by now ?

It’s so pathetic she can’t move on.

She is such a psycho

She is such a drama queen.

With my head full of thoughts of self hatred I turn to the only thing I can think of to give me relief. I open up my bathroom kit and remove a pair of scissors, running them repeatedly across my leg, watching with disgusted relief as the blood begins to blossom and cleanse me of my grief.

I hear the knock of my family at the door I quickly grab a towel from the bathroom and wrap it around me and slip under my sheets before yelling “come in”.

END DREAM

A small part of my mind recognises that I am dreaming. Filled with discomfort from the direction my dream is moving I try to wake myself up. Fighting against the weight of my dream state I struggle for what seems like forever to break free, until with relief I hear a familiar alarm ringing and groggily I open my eyes.

The saddest part was that this morning once I regained my composure and sat up in my bed, I began to miss the sight of you. I craved it again. I closed my eyes tightly willing myself back to sleep in the hope of bringing those early moments between us back. Willing to take the nightmare if it came with the dream.

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Saluting Sgt. Helbig | Seven

Every thought attacked my mind in high definition. The whole room seemed dull in comparison to my thoughts. Questions raced through me at a high speed, the darkness of the room seemingly stretching forever.

I wanted to hold my hand out in front of my face like I did when I jolted awake at home. Assure myself that this was real. I was real, and safe. I was conscious. But all of these thoughts seemed to evade me now. Everything did. I only felt the rough rope that bound my hand behind my back, and the hot air that I blew out of my lungs; it hit my collarbone, irritating me in the slightest.

The sensation of blood running down my pant leg had dulled. It was a throbbing pain that seemed to match up with my heartbeat, but if I was where I thought I was- a gunshot to the knee was the least of my worries.

I kept my eyes clenched as I shifted my position. I was numb and sore all at once, my mouth dry and tasting of sand as the cold nave of my back hit a stone like wall. My shirt raised up slightly, bundling up in the back as it fell away from my shoulders, exposing me to more frigid conditions.

"Grace," the whisper was rapid and close, making me press harder into the wall. I let the air in my lungs, swallowing roughly.

"Cas, I can't see you." I whispered back, my voice seemingly amplified as it cut across the darkness. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice shaking "nasty bump on my head, but nothing compared to a gunshot wound."

I grunted softly in response, shivering into myself. It was unnaturally cold in here. Not just desert in the middle of the night cold- this was artificial. A low hum was sounding all around us, matching up with the blurred conversation we shared. A freezer. It had to be a freezer.

"Who are they?" Cassie sniffed, the chill getting to her as well. "They have accents."

"We're in a foreign country." I grumbled, shifting my weight "we're the ones with the accents."

"Oh," She went quiet again. She was scared. That was more than clear. So was I, I just knew that it would be impossible for me to show it. I had put up my defensives, trying to channel the fear into something that was more important. Like getting out of a meat locker with all ten fingers.

"I don't know," I finally said, "They could be rebels."

She could have nodded, but I wouldn't know. The silence returned, it almost draped over us like a thin sheet. I rolled my shoulders around, feeling the tension release slightly. I could have closed my eyes at this point, but I wouldn't be able to tell, with the pitch that surrounded us. I was so sick of the dark.

The call came in the middle of the night, stirring Mamrie from her sleep as the soreness in her body began to work its way from her joints. She groaned, ignoring the annoying chirping of her phone as she cuddled deeper into Chester's side.

Another round of tedious ringing caused her to sit up quickly, rage flashing through her for a moment as she grasped the cellphone as she slid it open, flinching from the bright fluorescent light of the phone. She squinted, clenching her jaw as she moved the hot device to her ear.

"What?" her voice was groggy, sleep riddled and forced. Her throat was burning at this point, her eyes watching Chester shift his position as her pushed his face into the plush pillow, grumbling himself.

"Are you miss Hart?" the voice was strong, and forceful, not emotion seeping through the man's voice. "Mamrie Hart?"

"Yes, who is speaking?" she moved a stand of strawberry blonde hair from her eyes as she squinted into the dark blue dark of her room.

"I'm from the United States army. You were listed as a contact for one Grace Helbig."

"Shit." Mamrie cursed. Grace had never changed the name on the forms. She was so quick to leave the country after that damned letter flipped her life upside down that she had no choice but to keep the paperwork the same. "yeah, yes. What' happened, is she okay?"

The words seemed to drip past her lips, a knife like sensations piercing her as she let out a sharp breath. Her hands were beginning to tremble as she waited for the man on the other line of the phone to speak. He was drawing out the silence, like it was hard for him to say, but it was agony for Mamrie to hear.

"She's missing." Was all he conveyed, no emotion attached to words. Rage worked its way through Mamrie's veins, however.

"Missing," She scoffed, too blinded by her initial anger to do anything but snap at the soldier "is your army so incompetent that they can't keep track of one of the only damn people that matter to me?"

Chester was sitting up at this point, his hair falling into his eyes as he ran a hand over his face, attempting to wake himself up. His chest was bare, his eyes searching in the pitch for Mamrie's.

"Ma'am we're trying our best to-"

"Don't lie to me," Mamrie all but growled "How long?"

"ma'am?"

"How long has she been gone?"

The soldier let out a sigh "That is classified information. It's not protocol-"

"No." Mamrie was on her feet now, her hand raised to her hairline as she all but shouted into the phone. She couldn't sit still "Not to me it's not. Now you tell me how long she's been gone or I'll fly over to that incompetent base of yours and personally shove this cell phone up your obedient ass. Then we can talk about your fucking protocol"

"Three weeks." The man said softly, defeat invading his tone "there was a group of soldiers who were ambushed and they are believed to be among them. We're searching to the best of our abilities."

"Your abilities?" Mamrie barked "that won't get you anywhere."

She didn't have much left to say. Her chest was heaving up and down, slowly slowing it's pace as the reality of the situation began to set in her bones. Her breath quivered slightly as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her two forefingers, trying to delay the tears that were threatening to slide down her cheeks as Chester watched her carefully.

"Is she dead?" She finally asked.

"It's a possibility." The soldier responded. "Is there a way for you to get down to the local servicing station? They should be qualified to inform you of proper steps to take during this situation."

"And what would you call this situation?" Mamrie clenched her jaw, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"The loss of a life."