#I’m not meant to be in the conference room I’m meant to be on Pinterest brain rotting about future past

[wanderingblindly]

I need to make every comparison between rookie and current lando so badly and yet I’m getting dragged into a fucking three hour meeting about risk assessments and AI P L E A S E

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 4: Gleeful Harassment

Image credit: Pinterest

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tempts him with pink lace again while he’s attending a conference, and it makes him feral. (2094 Words) SMUT.

Warnings: Swearing, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), Darling is a brat, sugar mama!Darling (sort of?), dword use, sir kink, feral Carmy, this man is pathetic

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: Fireplace

Darling sometimes scares me.

New York again. Chef conference. Again. This time, Darling scheduled some time off at work to come with, which was nice, because when our hotel (different one, never trusted the first again) fucked up our booking again, it meant that instead of cramming Syd and me into a room together and telling us to figure it out, the staff had to listen to Nat and a pissed off Darling read them the Riot Act. I had to admit, it was wildly entertaining—not to watch the poor desk clerk scramble around with all the grace of a gazelle that’d been shot in the leg; that was uncomfortable—but watching Syd and Richie back away from the desk inch by inch as Darling’s voice got friendlier and friendlier, as she cracked jokes at the sweating clerk? As she then giggled at the manager on site who looked much too concerned about nothing to be bothered by some rando Chicagoan fucks who also, to be fair to him, looked like they’d rather be anywhere else?

Cinema.

Half an hour of gleeful harassment later, it was sorted. Three rooms, two suites so Nat’s snoring didn’t keep Syd awake.

“The fuck is a Presidential Suite?” I asked Darling after Richie had shuffled off the elevator onto his floor.

She smiled. Stroked my cheek as the elevator door closed. “Consider it a treat for starting therapy.”

A presidential suite, it turns out, is an entire fucking penthouse. Living room, fireplace, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom with a big tub, balcony (which was useless in December). For once on these stupid fucking conferences, I slept well.

Having Darling to snuggle up with probably helped.

Anyway.

I’m an hour into a panel of some asshat full-of-themselves chefs on day one, right—and I’m so ready to leave, okay? Like I’m ready to just get up and walk because I fucking can’t with this bullshit anymore. I’m tired, my head is killing me, my eyes are stinging, my back might as well have fucking knives in it from under my shoulder blades all the way to my tailbone, I’m boiling in my fucking suit. You don’t understand; I’m going to be cooked to death if I need to be here another ten minutes. I’m gonna fucking hurl or something. This day has been a million years long, and Darling had to leave in a rush because one of her patients had an emergency and she needed to get on a conference call right that second or the poor man was gonna die or explode or melt or whatever the fuck. Fuck me, I just need to get out of this room. There are too many people, I’m sardine canned in a corner between Richie and Nat, the doors are clear on the other side of the hall, and I can’t get out without walking across the front, and I’m Carmen fucking Berzatto—people are gonna notice if I get up and walk out. That’ll bite me in the ass.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I reached for it, but Sug nudged me in the elbow. Don’t get distracted.

It buzzed again.

I grabbed it anyway. Two text messages from Darling.

Darling: Patient is stable.

Darling: You okay?

Me: I’m dying.

Darling: Can you step out and take a break?

Nat nudged me again.

Fuck you, everyone here understands that sometimes you have important shit come up. Besides, how much of a fuck should I be giving to a bunch of self-centered sons of bitches big on social media who think their Cajun-inspired take of a Biryani even needs to exist, let alone is some revolutionary new frontier in food? Do your fucking fundamentals well. Do something actually inspiring.

Wait, that actually sounds pretty good.

Fuck.

Photo from Darling. Selfie. She’s lying on her stomach in the bed and has her lip caught between her teeth. She’d been pulling shit like that since yesterday; lip bite, lipstick print on my neck that I had to wipe off before the wider public saw it (turns out I’m still a shy bitch, who would’ve guessed), ghosting her fingers up the inside of my forearm, hugging my arm, wearing those fucking pink fucking heels and that fucking short pink dress, this bright, cheerful color exactly the hue of a split ripe guava, that I didn’t even know I liked until she dared to send me the one photo of her in the pink lacy panties on the one night I got compulsively stuck at the restaurant.

I went back to pretending to pay attention to the panel. Something about leadership in a kitchen. It would’ve been useful for me to hear if I wasn’t getting distracted repeatedly by my phone buzzing.

Darling: You look so good in a suit, Carm.

Darling: I want to bite you.

Darling: I need to buy you nice jewelry, Carm. You’d look like a daydream and a half with a couple more necklaces and a bracelet.

My face flooded hot. Fuck. Fuck me. Shit. How the shit was I supposed to focus now? And since when did Darling want to buy me jewelry?

Me: You’re acting like a brat again.

Darling: You said the panel wasn’t important!

That was true. I did say that. I’m an asshole, though, so I suppose we should keep that in mind.

Darling: Sweetheart?

Darling: Baby, I can’t stop thinking about you.

Me: You keep acting like a fucking brat, and I’m gonna fuck your day up, you understand me?

And I didn’t want to be there at all. But like half the people here know who the fuck I am, and I need to at least keep up the appearance of giving a shit if I’m gonna not be a minnow in this fucking shark tank, okay? My career was hanging on by a thread, my restaurant failed to get a star, my reviews were mostly good but had some glaring bad ones thrown in, my relationship with the kitchen staff was in some perilous fucking limbo, it was damn-near 5 pm on a random fucking Tuesday in Fuck-Off, New York, and my head was fucking killing me and I was being cooked to death.

Another photo from her, this one showing off a pink lace bra that matched those panties I almost tore off her the last time. Even more heat pooled in the pit of my stomach, flooded my face. She doesn’t know when to fucking quit, does she? Is she trying to kill me?

Darling: Well, maybe you should fuck my day up then, sir.

…..

“Carmy, please,” she whined, wriggled, tugged my hair. “Please, sir…”

I tightened my grip on her thighs to stop her squirming and spoke into her cunt. “You did this to yourself, baby girl.”

“But you-you’re being mean, Daddy.” She didn’t even have teeth behind that one.

She was a gorgeous mess. Unruly hair, smudged lipstick, swollen lips, red and purple blooms all over her neck and chest, teeth marks on her breast, just under her nipple. Fuck me, she was stunning. She was fucking delicious lying under me, whimpering as I worked her over, begging for release.

She could wait until I got my fill.

I found her after the panel (which I survived by biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper) lounging in front of the fireplace in nothing but that pink lingerie and her fuzzy night robe, glass of champagne in hand, pager and laptop discarded on the coffee table nearby. Orange-yellow glow lit up her legs and the curve of her breasts like ethereal things. I should’ve taken a photo of her. I don’t think about this kind of shit; I don’t think through the screen, I wrap myself around them (or maybe I wrap them around me?), absorb them, fight through the fog to plant them in my memory, take in every little detail with my own eyeballs in real time. Maybe it made me a better cook, made me better at picking up details.

At least it made me better at picking up her details.

Her eyeliner was smudged, and she looked exhausted. She looked the kind of exhausted that I did when I had a long day of fighting Richie or Syd at the restaurant. The kind of tired that can’t find words or form coherent thoughts, that responds to everything with “I’m tired” because that’s the truth of all matters. It’s this fucking exhaustion that drapes over you like a wet blanket, that makes a coma seem like it might be a vacation. I know I should’ve asked her how she was doing. Having a patient take a downturn like that usually fucks her up pretty bad, but I was screaming in my head to get at her. I needed to sink my teeth into her skin, lick the bite better, suck a hickey onto her pulse, delve my tongue into the wet heat of her mouth, the soft, wet sweetness of her cunt.

Not that she complained.

Well, now she was complaining.

“Yeah? Whose fault is that, hm?”

She whined again.

“You had to go acting like a fuckin’ brat, baby girl.”

“’m sorry. Please, Carmy. Please, Daddy, I’ll be good for the rest of the trip...”

“You better be,” I murmured, tossed her leg over my shoulder, “because I haven’t even started with you.”

“Lemme cum, please…”

“You can wait,” I growled.

She huffed and arched her back, tried to rock against my mouth to get any more friction, but I tightened my grip on her to hold her still. You got yourself into this situation, pretty thing, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences. I’m going to eat you out, I’m going to make a fucking meal out of you, and you’re gonna lay there and take it. You’re gonna take it and beg me for more, do you understand? Do you understand what you do to me? Do you even know how bad you fuck me up? Do you know how hard you make it to think under normal circumstances? And you had to tempt me with pink lace? Again? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes; is that how the phrase goes?

Her fingertips ghosted along my neck, curled down to pet a line up my throat, hook under my chain.

“Let-let me buy you something nice, Daddy.”

I glanced up at her from between her legs and gave her clit a particularly aggressive suck. She swore and bucked against me. We really doing this? You want to try throwing me off? You want to challenge me? I’ll admit, it almost got me. I don’t get things from people. Gift-giving was something of an artifice in my family, it was a thinly veiled assertion of favors, alignments of loyalties, negotiation tactics. Gifts were weapons of war. Some bitchy part of me that I wanted to crush under my boot-heel wanted to fire back with “why?” Why do you want to get something nice for me? What do you want from me? What are your ulterior motives?

She swept that hand through my hair. Wicked twinkle in her eye. Maybe it was reflections from the fireplace. Maybe I’m getting better at figuring her out. When did she turn into a brat? When did I start to like it?

I responded by pressing two fingers into her cunt, and she rewarded me with the prettiest moan I’ve ever heard. Fuck, it went straight to the pit of my stomach, coiled this sweltering heat into an unforgiving pressure that threatened to turn me inside out. Her cunt was so wet and hot, offered no resistance, welcomed my fingers. One hand seized my hair in a vice grip; the other shot up and kneaded her breast, afforded me a glorious sight of her in the throes of pleasure, back arched, nipple pinched between her fingers, firelight bathing half her form in flickering yellows and oranges, while the other half of her form receded under the ink of winter nightfall, twinkles around her neck from her gold necklace catching the light, and flashes of white, pink, blue, and green from her mother of pearl necklace shifting through its hues. She’s not human, I swear to you. She’s a mythological creature. Not of this realm. A fairy, a spirit, an angel—something distant from the grit and grime that is humanity, another plane of beautiful that escapes the grips of this disastrous world.

I revise my statement on God.

Sometimes he gets it right.

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

[elfpen]

I, an uncultured American who did not have the chance to actually keep up with Eurovision this year, have just spent several hours attempting to educate myself on the current state of the contest exclusively through tumblr’s “Eurovision” and “esc” tags.

Here is what I have learned:

Pussy

And salads, it’s part of a balanced diet

Norwegian wolves like bananas or something

You’ve heard of hot girl summer now get ready for ballad song spring

Are you actually in Eurovision if there isn’t some choreographed bumping and grinding

Okay but like are their costumes supposed to be wolves? Bananas with teeth? Did a wolf get knocked up by a banana? I have so many questions

I am not 100% certain of the name of the mad lad from Ukraine who was dancing like that but my god he can get it

Italy and Spain are upset with each other? I think? Unclear. I saw a lot of mentions of Italy and very little elaboration.

The final is apparently going to be boring because the censors are all cowards

There is a not-insignificant push to get the crowd to scream “pussy” during the final to protest Latvia’s ouster, they’re right and they should all say it very loudly

Okay but I’m hung up on this wolf banana thing. Like it’s sexual, right? Is it? Am I just too deep in the internet? I literally cannot tell, I just see these dudes in yellow lycra with little foam teeth pasted on what the hell am I suppose to do with that

Wait shit if it’s not supposed to be sexual I sound like a pervert MOVING ON

Turquoise carpet is the girl they tell Met Gala not to worry about

I do not know what the juries look like but I’m imagining a panel just. A supervillain-scale conference room table full of balding old white men with identically depressing briefcases

Obligatory dragging Britain through the mud

Interestingly most of the UK roasting posts I saw were written by Brits, further reinforcing my theory that you all have a humiliation kink

Okay but like, regardless of whether or not it’s meant to be inherently sexual, are the banana wolves furries? They have no fur. But like not all furies are actually furry, you know?

There is a full on “avenge Latvia” movement to establish their right to say “pussy” on international television and honestly it’s one of the more unifying and inspiring moments I’ve seen in Eurovision in a few years

Still not sure what the deal with Italy or Spain is, help

I have not been able to determine who this dude is with the plants all in his beard but I want to see his Pinterest board

Okay but seriously though, is this what happens when you give furries acid?? Acid, Adobe aftereffects and lycra????

The “cat with salad meme” sequel exceeds expectations

Like a good reality tv programme, the Eurovision-through-the-eyes-of-tumblr binging experience makes me feel like I’ve wasted several hours of my lifespan but leaves me hungry for more

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Celebrate you.

summary: Slowly, step by step, harry is becoming a dad.

word count: 1.9k

based on these requests:

“i legit am obsessed with your single mum series! can you do one where they all have a movie night? i think that would be sooo cute”

and

“Awwww now I’m thinking about Harry’s first Father’s Day with artimis. Thy make him his favorite food and gives harry the card he made for him 😭😭😭😭😭”

and

“for my shy little boy, what would harry’s first fathers day be like”

and

“Father’s Day gift for Harry from Artemis”

and

“Artemis celebrating Father’s Day with Harry”

a/n: had so many father’s day requests, sorry i took so long but here it is! send me some concepts revolving the pregnancy pls, i feel like we haven’t touched that subject!

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

June, 2019.

It could be raining, there could be a storm, hell, the sky could be falling apart but Harry would always make it to Y/N’s house on Saturday, with his hands full of takeout and an overnight bag to spend the night with them.

Staying in on the weekend was never something Harry used to do before. However, now the thing he looked forward the most was quiet, relaxing quality time with his girlfriend and her son. For him, it was the domesticity of it all. It was the feeling of craving something all week around that when the time comes, you can’t get enough of it. To Harry, the thing he couldn’t get enough of was the little life he’s been building with Artemis and Y/N for the past year and so.

Nothing was able to wipe the smile off of his face as he drove to the Y/L/N’s household after a long, exhausting week of working on his new album. Harry has missed the last movie night due scheduled meetings he had in LA that he couldn’t cancel, so he was very excited to finally them again in real life, and not only through a screen.

“Harry, Harry, you’re here!” Artemis was the one who opened the door, chanting his name while hugging his longs legs.

“Artemis, I’ve told you to now open the door without me there.”

“It was Harry, mum. I saw him through the window.”

“Oh, so you were waiting for me?” Harry playfully pinched one of his cheeks, making him blush. “Hi, love. I missed ya.” The green eyed man smiled sweetly at the woman in front of him. She looked beautiful although she was just dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that was probably his. Her hair was up in a messy, high ponytail and the makeup she had on earlier was already wiped off. He looked down at the little blonde boy and saw he was in his pajamas already. “I bought Chinese this time, that okay?”

Y/N nodded, taking the takeout bags from him to bring them to the kitchen, not without giving Harry a little kiss on the lips before doing so. “It’s perfect. I missed you too.”

Once she was out of sight, Harry felt how someone pulled from his pants and when he looked down, Artemis was already looking at him with big, doe hazel eyes. “Can I get a hug?”

Harry’s heart melted. “Course you can. Always.” He took him in his arms and held him close to his chest, breathing in the vanilla essence of his shampoo. Hugging Artemis has become one of his favorite things in the whole world, and one of the things he wanted to do all the time. Harry walked towards the living room with Artemis still in his arms. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Can we watch Trollhunters?” He asked excitedly.

The older man chuckled, having already expected that answer. They binged watched the entire series a couple times and Artemis absolutely loved it every time, and who was Harry to say no to that adorable face?

“Harry?! Can you help me with these?” Y/N’s voice was heard from the kitchen. Harry got up from his seat and told Artemis to wait for them to bring the food so they could start with their movie night.

When the three of them were finally on the couch, Artemis being in the middle of both adults, they pressed play on the TV. Harry had his plane on his lap and was also holding Artemis’, the little boy being too busy on watching the television Harry had to grab his fork and feed him bites of the fried rice he knew he liked. Y/N just observed from the other side of the couch, a smile forming on her face. The two boys looked completely absorbed in their own little world and Harry looked like a pro feeding a five year old with one hand an eating his own food in the other.

Harry sensed Y/N’s stare and looked at her, he wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle quietly. I love you, he mouthed before sighing contently. This was what he has been wanting to do all week. A night with no worries, no stress, something as mundane as watching television has become his favorite thing just because it was something he did with the two of them.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

The weekend passed by and soon Monday rolled in, which meant it was time to go back on their normal routines. To Y/N, her routine was wake up and make breakfast, then wake her boy up and make sure he was ready on time for her to drop him off at school then drive to work. She needed to make sure she left her office at the same time every day so she could go pick Artemis up from school in time.

What happened afterwards was variable. If Y/N had to give any conferences in her home office, she’d drop Artemis at her moms’ and go pick him up after she finished or if she was free for the day, they’d just chill at home.

This Monday wasn’t any different from any other. Y/N held Artemis’ hand as they walked down the hall of his school to get to her car and drive home. Artemis was telling her about his day as she strapped him on his car seat. “My teacher said this Sunday’s the day they celebrate daddies.”

To Y/N, it didn’t go unnoticed the way he said ‘they’ instead of ‘we’, and she felt how her heart fell to his stomach. The truth was, Artemis has never celebrated Father’s day, simply because there wasn’t no one he could celebrate with. Usually he wouldn’t mind, but Y/N knew it will as he grew older. She sighed, humming a response to him as she got in the driver’s seat.

“Can we do something that day?” He asked, Y/N looked at him through the rearview, trying to read his thoughts.

“What do you want to do, baby?” She said, hoping and praying it was something she was actually able to give him.

“Something for Harry.” At her boy’s words, Y/N almost crashed the damn car out of pure shock. It wasn’t a secret at all how much Artemis looked up to Harry, or how much the man adored her child, but perhaps it was a little soon to celebrate Father’s day with him.

Does Harry deserve it? Damn straight. He’s done more for Artemis than his biological father would ever do. Doctor appointments, nightmares, late night grocery shopping because the boy craved a candy it was only sold in the store in the other side of London, you name it. However, they haven’t been in that stage of their relationship yet, and Y/N was afraid it would overwhelm Harry.

The case was, Harry did deserve to be celebrated, not just the third Sunday of June every year, but all year around. The things he do, the love he held for Artemis… it was something worth to be celebrated. So Y/N sucked up her fears and insecurities and promised they would surprise Harry that Sunday.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Y/N hasn’t done anything like this before. She has searched for ideas on Pinterest so they could make something special, but she still had no experience whatsoever. Usually, when in school children had to do a craft work for Father’s day, Artemis’ teacher would just put Y/N’s name on it. However, this year she had asked to put Harry’s name on it.

“Not daddy, not dad, not father. Just Harry.” The teacher verified, writing down on her notebook before looking up at Y/N.

She nervously played with her hands as she answered. “Just Harry, please.”

Turns out this year they made the kids make cards for their daddies, asking them to draw what they loved the most about them. Artemis didn’t let his mum see what he did back in his classroom, claiming Harry should be the first one to see it and Y/N was more than happy to obey.

Besides the card, Y/N has picked out a few other things for Harry, and also made sure to have all the ingredients to make his favorite food in her kitchen. Harry had stayed over, as usual. Artemis was so excited he almost blurted their plans to him twice, but Y/N was able to stop him.

On Sunday morning, Y/N woke up extra early and went out of bed trying to be as quiet as possible then walked down the hall to get her son, who was already awake and ready to run to her room where Harry was to wake him up.

“We have to make breakfast first, honey.” She told him before picking him up to take him to the kitchen. “We have to be quiet.” Artemis nodded rapidly from his seat on the island. “You’ll give him your card first then the others gifts we have, okay?”

Y/N cooked breakfast as fast as she could, knowing Harry would be awake and looking for them in no time. She placed the waffles with blueberries on top next to the plate with an omelet made with all the ingredients Harry liked such as dried tomatoes and mint. She could barely put the orange juice in a glass when Harry entered the kitchen still half asleep.

“Surprise!” Both Y/N and Artemis exclaimed with a big smile.

Harry opened his eyes in surprise, seeing the kitchen full of his favorite food, plus a couple of green balloons and gifts set on the counter. “What’s all of this?”

“It’s for you, Harry.” Artemis said, hopping off the kitchen island with the help of his mum. “I made this for you.”

Harry looked up at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging smile. He sat on one of the high chairs and pulled the small boy on his lap before opening the card he had in his hands.

“My teacher asked me to draw what I love about you. This is you with a rainbow suit because you like color, and you’re giving one of your concerts like the one mummy and I went to see one time.” Artemis explained, pointing out all the details of the card from his place on Harry’s lap.

Perhaps Artemis has drawn Harry with circles and sticks, and the ‘stage’ he was supposed to be standing on looked more like a square in the middle of the paper, but to Harry it was the most beautiful thing he has ever since in his entire life, and it brought tears to his eyes knowing Artemis has made this for him. His lip started trembling when he saw the little ‘I love you, Harry ☺❤’ at the bottom of the card. It was a messy handwrite, proper for a five year old, and it was that what made it so damn perfect.

“Today we’re celebrating you, Harry.” Y/N stepped in, wrapping her hands around his shoulders from behind and kissed his cheek. “We love you.”

“We love you, Harry!” Artemis said, joining the hug excitedly.

With a couple of tears rolling down his eyes and a heart that was ready to explode out of love and adoration for the two people that were standing there with him, he managed to let out a sincere, soft ‘I love you so much more’.

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

[neonweeknds]

enchanted - PART ONE

*u can read here or on ao3*

PART ONE

summary - Jan arrives in NYC with way too much baggage and too many feelings.

The dorms were small.

Much smaller than Jan anticipated when moving in. She was in the center of New York City, so when applying for the residency, she wasn’t expecting these cute picture-perfect university dorms as she had seen all over Pinterest, but the two single twin beds and desks pushed up against the wall crushed all her hopes of ever having that.

Thank god she got her own bathroom to share with her roommate instead of the communal one she had heard so many horror stories about.

As Jan looked around the room, she wasn’t sure how she was going to fit everything with the four suitcases she lugged with her from home. Plus she had to share this space with a roommate! It was going to take some time getting used to, she knew that much.

“Jesus Jan! Did you really need to bring every fucking CD you owned!” her sister, Lagoona, said with a huff as she placed down a heavy box, her oldest sister Rosé quickly following suit.

“Let her be Goon, her roommates going to be the one to deal with her daily Ariana concerts. Be thankful we’re free for the semester,”

“You know you’ll miss me” Jan teased back, nudging Lagoona’s shoulder. “Was that the last box?” she asked to which her sister nodded.

Jan looked around at her empty room and then back towards her sisters, “Guess this is it then, huh,” she huffed out. She felt herself getting emotional, even though she promised she wouldn’t on the ride up here.

Why was this so hard? Her sisters were only a phone call away, an eight-hour bus ride in case of an emergency.

She could do this. She wasn’t a baby.

She was a strong, independent woman.

Rosé scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Stop acting like you’re never gonna see us again. You’re going to be fine, Jannie! University is all about discovering yourself and all that bullshit! Enjoy it!”

Jan knew her sister was right.

“Besides, I have a few conferences in the city…I’m gonna be up here pretty often! And Rosie has her gigs! We’ll make this work, okay?” Lagoona reassured, her hand coming up to rub Jan’s arm in a comforting manner.

“Can we get some fro-yo before you drive back?” Jan looked at her sisters with puppy dog eyes she knew they couldn't resist.

“Do you even need to ask?” Rosé chuckled.

 _

 After some delicious frozen yogurt, courtesy of Lagoona, Jan hugged her sisters tight and teary-eyed. As she watched their shared black Toyota pull out of the campus parking lot, she couldn’t help but feel her anxiety creep back up again.

How was she going to do this on her own?

She had never lived alone before, especially in a big city where she knew nobody. Jan wasn’t used to being the newbie, and albeit there were thousands of students just like her, it didn’t help.

She was always the popular, bubbly and charismatic head cheerleader turned prom queen at her old school. Everybody liked her…she didn’t necessarily have to try but now in university, all that meant nothing.

Back home in her small little slice of Maine, she was comfortable with her life. She had everything she could’ve ever wanted. Her friends, sisters, a job, good grades and even her boyfriend, who coincidentally, was also the captain of the football team.

Well, ex-boyfriend.

And then without warning, Jan’s life went from perfect to disaster. Her whole world was turned upside down and was torn to shreds until the girl she once was, disappeared.

Rosé and Goona didn’t know what to do. It was unlike their baby sister to be locked in her room, only coming out to eat every so often. Their bubbly energetic sister had suddenly become quiet, reserved and shy. Everything got so bad one night, Rosé burst into her room crying her eyes out, practically begging her to let them help.

And Rosé never cried.

That was when Jan knew things needed to change.

She needed to get far away.

She wasn’t the same person she was last year.

And she didn’t want to be.

So although university was scary and anxiety-inducing for her, she knew she needed to be here. Not only for her sisters but deep down, Jan knew she needed this for herself.

By the grace of God, she was able to obtain a full-ride scholarship for a university, far, far away from anyone in her hometown. Her graduating class was small, and she knew for a fact none of them would ever be in New York, let alone NYU.

So Jan walked back to her dorm, taking steady breaths with each step.

She could do this. She needed to do this.

It was her chance to start over and she wasn’t letting anything get in her way this time around.

Heading up the stairs to her dorm building, the hallways were full of students and their families saying goodbye to one another. Her room was on the third floor, at the very end stretch of the hallway. Once she spotted her dorm, she saw there was a small sign hung up on the door that she hadn’t placed there.

Jan’s nerves crept back up as soon as she realized her roommate must’ve arrived. Taking a deep breath, her palm shakily grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open. As quickly as Jan opened the door to her room, she slammed it back shut, not expecting to be met with the sight of two people making out heavily on the bed, one of which she assumed to be her new roommate.

Great start, Jan told herself.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Did she knock? Maybe she should walk around campus for a bit to give them some more time?

Before she could mentally deliberate for any longer, the door swung open, revealing a short girl with wild red curly hair and bright makeup that was now, well, slightly smudged.

The girl coughed awkwardly as she looked at Jan, “Sorry bout that,” and then she was skipping down the hallway, leaving Jan standing dumbfounded at her door.

“You can come in, you know. I don’t bite,” a voice from the inside called out.

Jan cringed as if this interaction wasn’t already awkward. She slowly entered the room, once again being taken aback by the sight, but this time it was of a tall blonde who was sitting on her bed shirtless, clad in just a bra.

Jan immediately turned around, her face turning beet red. “What—? Oh! Whoops, sorry! Forgot I wasn’t wearing a shirt!” she heard the blonde speak, “Okay, you can turn around now, although that’s probably not the last time that’s going to happen— for future reference,” the girl laughed when she saw the look on Jan’s face.

When Jan turned back around, the girl was now in a simple black cropped t-shirt. “I’m Gigi,“

“Is that your real name?” Jan immediately asked before clamping her mouth shut, realizing that that wasn’t very nice to ask someone you just met.

Gigi chuckled, “It’s not— Georgina is my full name but we don’t talk about that. I prefer Gigi,”

Jan nodded slowly and looked around their room. Gigi’s side was mostly decorated completely, aside from an opened suitcase on the ground that was spewing out clothes. Her eyes averted back to her roommate who was already staring at her, an expectant look on her face, “What?” Jan asked cluelessly.

“Are you gonna tell me your name or am I just gonna have to keep calling you ‘Girl who almost got a free show of my girlfriend and I’,” she smiled, teasingly.

Jan laughed, more out of embarrassment, “Uh I’m Jan…just Jan,” she spluttered, “Sorry, I’m really nervous right now. This is my first time away from home,” she admitted.

“Where are you from?” Gigi asked.

“Rockland…it’s a really small town in Maine,” she said, “Are you from New York?” Jan asked, walking over to her unmade bed and sitting down.

“Nope,” Gigi said, popping the ‘P’, “I’m from Los Angeles actually. Transferred here this year because of my girlfriend,” she said, smiling at the mention of her.

“Oh! So you’re a sophomore?” Jan questioned.

Gigi shook her head, her pin-straight hair following her movements effortlessly. “I switched majors completely so I’m back to square one. I’m doing fashion design now! It’s a win-win for me since New York has all the best fashion inspo plus my girlfriend is here…it all worked out,” she shrugged, “What about you?”

“I’m doing musical theatre!” Jan smiled brightly.

“Oh really? Crystals roommate is double majoring in musical theatre!” Gigi said.

Jan nodded, “Crystal is…?” she trailed off.

“My girlfriend…red hair, super short, you ran into her in the hallway,”

Jan stayed silently as she thought back to the girl, Crystal, happy to put a name to the face, “That’s not a problem is it?” Gigi eyed Jan curiously.

“What?”

“The fact that I have a girlfriend…because I will switch roommates so fast—”

“What— I’m not—“ she shook her head, “That doesn’t bother me, why would it?” Jan stuttered.

She wasn’t lying.

Her sister, Rosé, was a lesbian and she was never shy about it. Her town was small and pretty conservative so she didn’t grow up around any queer people besides her sister. She had seen first-hand what it was like for Rosé to get ridiculed for years simply for who she was and she wouldn’t want anyone in the world to ever feel how her sister felt.

Love was love.

It was that simple.

“Good,” Gigi presser, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch about it, I just can’t deal with any more homophobic pieces of shit! It’s 2021 for christ’s sake…so then are you…?” Gigi trailed off, giving Jan a look that could only read as one thing.

Her cheeks turned red, “Oh! Um no I’m straight…yep. I like boys,” she laughed awkwardly.

Jans battle with sexuality was long…and confusing. If she thought about it too much she would spiral. Saying she was straight was just an easy way out because it was true.

At least that’s what she told herself.

“Cool, well…Crystal and I are going to get some food right now, you can come with us if you want?”

Jan smiled at the offer, “Thanks for the offer…I really need to unpack though. Next time?” she told her roommate hopefully.

Gigi nodded, picking up her phone from her bed, leaning over and handing it to Jan. “Put in your number, I promise I’ll let you know when Crystals coming over so we don’t have a repeat of earlier, okay?” she teased and Jan felt her cheeks heating up once again while she typed her number in the phone.

“Great,” she chuckled.

Gigi left a few minutes later, saying she would be back later on in the night.

So Jan was left alone again. She stared at her four suitcases and a couple of boxes, glancing around the room and huffed, not sure where to start with unpacking.

She grabbed her small little cd player from a box and rummaged through her CDs until she found her favourite Spice Girls album. Popping it into the player, the sound of Spice Up Your Life filled the room softly and Jan got to work.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as she made it out to be.

 _

`

It was close to nine o’clock when Jan got a text from Gigi stating she was going to be spending the night at Crystal’s dorm, along with a string of suggestive emojis.

Jan had spent the last few hours unpacking and she was surprised at how everything was coming together. She had managed to fit all four suitcases of her clothes and shoes in her closet, perfectly. Her CDs were on display on a shelf she had bought and spent way too long building. On her desk, she had a few framed photos of her and her sisters and of course, one of Lady Gaga.

It was starting to feel more and more like her old bedroom back in Maine.

Jumping on her bed softly, she let her body sink into the pillows as exhaustion finally took over her. But that was quickly interrupted by the sound of her stomach growling. Jan thought of the last time she ate a proper meal which would have had to be yesterday, back at home. She and her sisters had left so early this morning the only thing she ate was junk food from various gas stations and that delicious chocolate frozen yogurt a few hours ago.

Jan sighed to herself as she slowly pulled herself up from her bed and searched the room for her wallet.

Maybe there was a fast-food restaurant somewhere close by. The dining halls were already closed by now and she regretted not getting something to eat earlier. Not bothering to check the weather, she grabbed her phone and credit card, shutting the door to her dorm behind her. It was pretty quiet at this time, only seeing a few people as she went down the stairs of the building.

The second she stepped outside, the cold chilly air met Jan’s bare shoulders. She cursed herself for not grabbing a sweater or a jacket but instead of turning back around, she shrugged and went along with her quest of finding some food.

After ten minutes of walking up and down different streets, Jan had yet to spot any place that were open. She walked and walked for what seemed like hours and was getting nowhere but more and more lost in a city she knew nothing about.

This was definitely a bad idea.

Jan tried to remember which way she came from but it was no use. Every street sign was starting to look the same and it was getting darker and darker by the minute. Reaching into her pant pocket, she pulled out her phone, opening her Maps app and trying to figure out her whereabouts, while also trying to figure out a way to get back to her building. Just as she was about to allow access to her location, her screen turned black and her heart sank to her gut.

Her phone had died.

Perfect.

Af if things couldn’t get worse, a sudden rumble of thunder erupted. “Fan-fucking-tastic” she mumbled.

This was exactly why Jan couldn’t be on her own. In less than an hour, she had managed to get lost in one of the biggest cities in the world, with her dead phone and a thunderstorm on its way. As she continued to walk around, probably worsening things for her, her blonde hair was suddenly being drenched by the rainfall. Jan sped up her walking, trying to find an open store of some sort to take shelter but for some reason, everything seemed to be closed. She took a left down a particular street and that was when she saw it. A small little building tucked away at the very end of this street, the small open sign visible right above another light-up sign that pictured a cup of coffee. Letting out a sigh of relief, she headed straight for the shop, Brita’s.

Some of the lights were still on the inside, but it seemed to be fairly empty of customers. She pulled open the door, a little chime going off when she entered.

“Sorry, but we’re closing in two minutes-” an unknown female voice spoke, coming out from behind a bookshelf. It was at this moment that Jan actually looked around the palace she had stumbled upon. Bookshelves lined the walls from front to back. But then as she looked to her right, there was a small little bakery display shelf with a seating area.

Cute, she thought.

The light flickered on above her and that was when Jan remembered someone else was here. Her attention turned back to the stranger, who was now nowhere near the bookshelf but instead standing directly in front of her. “I’m really really sorry,” Jan said, “I just got lost trying to find some food around here...and I’m new to the city so I have no clue where I’m going and so then I tried to look at the maps on my phone but then my phone died so naturally, I started panicking slightly because if my sister found out I went out alone she would kill me and then it started raining and I was just trying to find some shelter but it doesn’t really matter because I’m still lost and-” a chocked sob left the distressed blonde’s lips as all the overwhelming emotions she had kept bottled up all day, finally came out to play.

A gentle hand gripped Jan’s forearm and pulled her slowly towards the seating area, gently sitting her down once they reached the couch. “Take deep breaths,”

Jan tried listening to the girl but her breathing pattern was just coming out shaky as her cries were making it difficult for her to think properly as her head rested in her hands. “I’m s-sorry,” she managed to say.

“You don’t need to apologize...do you want me to call someone for you?” the girl asked and that was when Jan finally took her head out of her hands and looked up. She had dark brown hair that was tied up in a ponytail, the curls peeking out from behind. She wore a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that framed her face perfectly. Jan couldn’t help but zero in on the tiny little earring she was wearing, the flag was one she had seen many times in her own house.

In conclusion, Jan thought she was so incredibly pretty.

So pretty.

And she was sat here looking like a wet chihuahua, crying her eyes out to a complete stranger.

Jan stood up abruptly, sniffling as she looked back outside, “N-no, I’m okay...yeah. I’m sorry for just crashing in here, you probably want to go home. I’ll find my way back, thank you,” Jan stumbled backwards, almost tripping over a chair as she headed straight for the door once again.

The rain was falling harder than before and she sighed, about to continue her disastrous journey home before the door opened behind her again, revealing the same girl who was just inside comforting her, “Come back inside, please. I can help get you back home once this storm dies out,” the girl sounded desperate and Jan just felt embarrassed.

Another rumble of thunder sounded throughout the area and soon after a strike of lightning, so Jan turned back around to look at the girl who still held the door open. Jan looked down and mumbled a quiet ‘okay’ as she headed back inside just in time for another strike of lighting to hit.

“You’re shivering, hang on…” the girl left Jan standing alone in the front of the store, disappearing behind the bookshelves before coming back out a few moments later with a sweater, “Here, put this on,” she handed Jan the black sweater as she accepted it hesitantly.

“Thank you,” she told the girl as she slipped the fabric on, her nose immediately being engulfed with an earthy scent, “Can I get you some tea, coffee, water? Something to eat?” the girl asked and Jan just shook her head.

“Are you sure? It won’t take long,” she insisted but Jan shrugged, “Thank you, I appreciate it but I’m okay, I don’t want to cause any more trouble...can you just- how far away am I from the NYU campus, specifically Gramercy Green…” she asked shyly.

“You go to NYU?” the girl said, a smile on her face, “Me too! I’m just up in the Broome Residence...Gramercy is about a half-hour walk from here, ten-minute train ride...do you wanna call your roommate, maybe?” the girl asked gently.

Jan laughed to herself, “I don’t have her number...well I do, but my phone died and she’s at her girlfriend’s right now, it wouldn’t be much help,”

The girl nodded, “Are you okay with waiting here till the rain clears up? It’s not really safe to leave till then but once it does, we can take the subway back to Gramercy?” she asked.

Jan bit her lip nervously and picked at her fingernails, a nervous habit of hers, “Are you sure? You don’t have to come with me--”

“No, but I want to! We can just hang here for now...I have music and card games, I’m not sure how long this storm will last but it would make me feel better knowing you got home safe…” the girl trailed off before smiling, offering her hand out to Jan, “I’m Jackie,”

“Jan,”

_

 “So what are you studying?” Jackie asked as she and Jan walked side by side through the subway station.

The storm lasted for about an hour and so the two girls kept busy playing UNO while blasting some y2k throwbacks.

Jan had to admit, it was nice.

Jackie was nice and she was glad she’d stumbled upon her even if it wasn’t in the most pleasant way at first.

“Musical theatre, got a scholarship,” Jan said, taking a sip of tea that Jackie insisted she made them.

“You’re kidding me? Right?” Jackie stopped the two of them in the middle of the subway station, looking at Jan with wide eyes and a smile plastered onto her face. Jan chuckled, “I’m not…” she trailed off, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Me too! I double major in music theatre and gender studies! I could’ve spent all that time teaching you about all my wisdom and knowledge of the program but I usually refrain from letting my obsession with West Side Story shine until further into the friendship” she laughed. “What year are you in?” Jan asked, finding Jackie’s amusement hilarious and adorable all at the same time. “Last year, I’m a senior, finally,” she said, using an exasperated tone, walking up the stairs out of the station and back into the streets of New York.

“Oh! So what are you gonna do once you’re done?” Jan asked out of curiosity.

Jackie shrugged, “I really wanna go into directing for broadway...write my own plays and focus on making a difference in the broadway LGBTQ community...the dream is to have my own show on a stage. I’m applying for a few internships working around some producers and stuff for the end of the year but what about you? What are you gonna do?” she asked, the same curiosity in her tone as Jan when she had asked.

“Hopefully to just be on broadway...performing is what I like best. We didn’t have a musical theatre program at my high school, so I went to a community theatre in the next town over,” Jan laughed at the memory, “It was fun. I mean, it’s how I decided I wanted to do it for the rest of my life, you know,” Jan shrugged.

To some, it may seem silly. Few people ever made it big on Broadway and a lot of people had reminded her of that. But the last thing Jan was going to do was be stuck at some dead-end corporate job, hating her life for the next fifty years.

“You know, there’s a theatre nearby NYU, they’re always putting on productions, you should check it out and maybe audition. They’re doing Into The Woods this semester,”

Jan couldn’t help but squeal internally at the news Jackie just shared, but she wanted to seem cool in front of her possible new friend who was a lot cooler and smarter and better than her.

Who was also very pretty.

“Really? That’d be fun, maybe I will!” she smiled.

“You’d be great Cinderella,” Jackie pointed out and Jan could feel yet another, blush rise to her cheeks. Jan was thankful that it was dark out and that Jackie couldn’t see how much her face had turned into a tomato.

Why did that make her feel weird? A good weird, though.

She chuckled, “Oh I don’t-” she started but was cut off as Jackie stopped abruptly and only did Jan realize they were in front of her building.

“Voilà, you’re home!” she laughed, “The door’s definitely locked so you’re gonna need your key,” she told Jan.

Jan nodded, reaching in her pant pocket, feeling around for the small metal object she was gifted when first arriving here. When she couldn’t find it in her first pocket she reached into her other one, hoping and praying to was there, but she came out empty-handed.

“Fuck me,” she groaned, “I think I left it in my room,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry, Jackie. You’ve been so nice to me after I’ve been an emotional wreck and you had the decency to walk me home and I can’t even remember something as simple as charging my phone or bringing my key,”

Jackie didn’t even look fazed, she just shrugged and grabbed her phone from her bag, “All good, Jan. I’ll just call Widow, she’s usually up still around this time,” and suddenly she was on the phone, speaking with this ‘Widow’ girl.

After a few minutes, she hung up the phone and looked back over to Jan, “She’s on her way. Perks of being friends with RA’s” Jackie wiggled her eyebrows.

Jan stared at Jackie, “Thank you...seriously. I’m usually more organized and less...well a mess, but thanks for tonight,”

“Of course! Don’t even worry about it! I’m just glad I have another person I can talk to about musical theatre! Wait! Here” she said, giving Jan her phone, “Put your number in and I’ll text you the details about the Into The Woods production...and if you ever need someone to call or talk to,” Jan entered her digits into the phone, handing it back to Jackie with a smile.

The sound of a door opening interrupted the two of them, revealing a girl Jan presumed to be Widow. Her big afro bounced as she walked towards the two girls with a cheeky smile, “Jackie, you found another stray hmm,” Widow eyed her jokingly before looking at Jan, “I’m Widow, your RA,”

She smiled, “I’m Jan...sorry for leaving my key inside like an idiot, won’t happen again,” she assured.

“Well you were right about her apologizing Jacks...it’s all good. Honest mistake, you’d be surprised at how many freshmen do exactly what you do,”

Jan chuckled, “That makes me feel a little better than,”

Widow nodded, “Here’s a spare key to your room, just drop it back off to me next week. I’ll put a puck in the door, just be warned it locks automatically and I’m not interrupting my Real Housewives again...I’ll see you on Monday, Jackie. Nice meeting you Jan,”

Jan watched as Widow retreated inside, leaving her and Jackie standing alone once again. Jan sighed, “Thanks again, Jackie. I’ll uh see you around, I guess,”

Jackie smiled and nodded, “Have a good night, Jan,”

As Jan trudged back up to her room, she took a much-needed shower. She changed into some comfy clothes and as she hopped into her bed, plugin in her phone. As she was trying to make herself comfortable, she realized she was laying on some sort of lump that was making the task impossible. Leaning upwards, she pulled the lump from underneath her only to be engulfed with the newfound familiar earthy scent and recognized Jackie’s sweater.

Shit.

The sweater she forgot to give back.

Her phone lit up and was surprised to be met with a few notifications, one from Gigi, some from her sisters and one from an unknown number, but as soon as she read the text, she smiled

Unknown - Hope you got in safely Jan :)

Jan - I did! Thank you again for everything tonight! ps. forgot to give u ur sweater back lol

Jackie - ‘It’s okay, it looked better on you anyways’

How many times was she going to blush tonight? The answer is too many. Why did the words coming from Jackie seem more appealing than coming from anyone else? If this were one of her sisters, she would scoff and make a sarcastic joke, but with Jackie, she felt giddy.

Jan - ‘Ok’

Jan mentally scolded herself for the response

Jackie - ‘Goodnight, Jan’

Jan - ‘Night, Jackie,’

To new beginnings.

[karma-vvitch]

Come back to me

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: fluff(at first), goes to town on angst trust me

summary: Bucky made a promise to you, but you didn’t make a promise to Bucky

a/n: it looks cute and fluffy at first, but don’t let that fluff fool you.....I was really in the mood and I saw this prompt on pinterest sooooooo there, boom a story

_

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is requesting everyone to be in the conference room right now.” F.R.I.D.A.Y announced startling the super-soldier who was trying to cover his ears. “give me 5 more minutes” He grumbled turning over. “Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is requesting this urgently” at this Bucky sighed knowing he would earn an earful, “you know Steve’s gonna kill me if I don’t get your ass out of that door right now,” the figure next to him smiled.

 “Wouldn’t he already do that because you’re still here, lying next to me and not getting out of the covers?” Bucky replied turning over to face the figure. “You’re not wrong, soldier” you giggled, scooting closer to him, “well knowing that Stevie is going to give us both a speech on tardiness, why don’t we just-” Bucky then started crawling on top of you while you were laughing trying to get him off you. 

“Bucky stop it we have to go, it might be serious” you tried reasoning with him, “c’mon doll, just a few more minutes” he was now fully focusing on you, observing how you looked at that moment. Noting on how messy your hair was, eyes puffy and tired, and lips plumped with some dried saliva at the corners. He chuckled to himself, even at this state you were the most gorgeous thing he saw. Bucky reached his hand out to tuck a stray strand hanging near your eyes, while you just stared at Bucky with a knowing look.

 You were about to say something until a knock interrupted you. “If both of you don’t get out right now, I will break down this door and carry you both out, decent or not.” Steve said clearly annoyed. You and Bucky were trying your hardest not to laugh, while getting out of the bed. “I think that’s our cue” you said, tying your hair up trying to look more decent. Bucky just smirked at you putting on his shirt “yeah we should go before he actually breaks down the door” You laughed again heading for the door.

_

It was an extraction mission. There were some files in an abandoned Hydra base that held some important information, S.H.I.E.L.D thinks they might contain important information on other bases and weaponry. Since this was a small mission only a few people were going to be handling this and one of them was Bucky. 

You were nervous for sure you knew he had a better grasp of himself than he had before, the Wakandans made sure of that but you still had this feeling that you might lose him....again. The meeting had ended awhile ago but you still lingered. You were no hero nor enhanced being but you always had this gut feeling something is wrong or somethings gonna go wrong, that was what you were feeling right now, “hey” it was Bucky “hey” 

“You alright?” no you weren’t “yeah” bucky held your hand making you face him “Y/n I know that face, you aren’t okay” you let out shaky breath “I’m just scared Buck, I’m scared that I might lose you again” Bucky tensed at this, he knew he was okay now after his time at Wakanda but the fear of Hydra capturing him again was still there no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, “I know doll, I get scared too but you and I both know that won’t happen, I have Steve with me and I have full control over my brain.” 

you glanced at Bucky “I know I just always get that feeling that they’re gonna take you away from me” tears were forming in your eyes, “oh doll” Bucky pulled you closer to him as you let the tears fall from your eyes “Bucky promise me you will come back to me”   “Doll you know I wou-”   “Bucky please, just promise me you will come back to me” Bucky looked at you tears prickling at his eyes as he looked down at your form, his heart breaking at the sight. He knew he could be taken at any time, he knew Hydra was out there planning to take back their “asset” but for now he knew better than to let that out to you, he knew it will come one day but for now all he could do was hold you closer and promise. Promise that he would come back to you.

_

The group had arrived at the Hydra base within 2 hours, they were now headed to the lab trying to find the files. “So what happened between you and y/n, awhile ago?” Steve had asked trying to break the silence, Bucky glanced at Steve then sighed “You should have seen her Stevie, she looked so defeated. She was scared that she would lose me and made me promise to her that I would come back. Of course I promised her that but you and I both know Hydra still wants their winter soldier back and that they would stop at nothing to achieve that...” “Buck, I wouldn’t let that happen, y/n knows that too doesn’t she?”     “She does but she also knows that one day it might happen and you won’t be able to stop it.” 

Once Bucky finished they were already in front of the lab. The files were right where the info said it would be, they placed it inside of a secured case and left the lab. As they were walking out of the lab, a bunch of Hydra agents came out of nowhere and started shooting at the group. Steve and Bucky were able to take out most of the guys, then sprinted to the jet. Once the whole group was in the jet they left the base, heading back to headquarters. 

The flight back was silent, everyone was tired and still shocked by the surprise attack. Half way through the flight Steve’s comm went off. “Steve you there?” It was Natasha “Yeah, what the hell Nat, the information said it was abandoned yet there were agents waiting for us outside the lab, ready to fire”  “Steve”  “The group could’ve gotten hurt”  “Steve”  “Why was the information wrong”  “STEVE”  “What”  “How far from HQ are you guys?”  “not that far, why?”  “You need to go faster”  “Nat, what do you mean”  “Steve HQ has been compromised”   “what do you mean?”  “Steve” this time it was Bucky but he wasn’t looking at Steve, he was looking outside the jet. 

When Steve looked out he couldn’t breathe. It was HQ but half of it was burning, with some structure already falling off. Steve quickly landed the jet, briskly unbuckling his the straps and opening the jet. Bucky beat him to it though, running out the jet into the clearing where agents and employees gathered, trying to help the wounded or trying to figure out what was happening but Bucky didn’t care about that, all he cared about right now  was you and if you were safe. 

As he was trying to look for you in the crowd he overheard Natasha and Steve talking “Nat what happened?” “We don’t know, one minute we were doing our jobs the next, a bomb exploded at the east wing” Steve saw Bucky frantically searching through the crowd and he knew exactly who he was looking for. “Nat do you know where y/n is?” Natasha was thinking but her face immediately went pale “After you guys left, she went to storage to get some of her weapons” Steve paled realizing what Nat meant “I haven’t seen her since” 

Steve didn’t waste another second and ran to Bucky. He explained everything to him and they dashed to the rubble. Thankfully the second floor hasn’t collapsed yet, but they had to be quick. Both men started shouting your name hoping for a response but nothing came. Bucky couldn’t lose you, he would never forgive himself knowing that they took you. As he dug through the rubble just to find you he just hoped, hoped to God or whatever being was up there that you weren’t under all these rocks and that you were already in the clearing.

 He stopped holding back tears trying not to think about it, as he was going back to digging Steve called his name. Bucky stopped again facing Steve, he then felt all his fears coming back to him. He felt his heart breaking as he walked to Steve but when he finally saw him his heart fully shattered. In his arms your body, limp and not moving. 

Bucky couldn’t stop shaking as he was handed your body, he fell to his knees as he cradled you. He tilted your head up, getting a better look of you and the evidence that you were in a fight before this, He wiped the streak of blood from your mouth as he started sobbing, “y/n”  “y/n, c’mon wake up doll.”  “hey you gotta wake up for me right now”  “doll”  “DOLL” Bucky wailed as he held you closer. “who did this to you”  “who did this to you!” He kept trying to find a pulse but there was really nothing. “Didn’t I promise you that I would come back, look baby I did. I came back for you” Bucky sobbed “doll you gotta come back to me” Bucky pleaded

“Come back to me” 

[jay-and-dean]

Become That Girl  Part 1/2

Dean x reader

Summary : Y/n never was his type. She is the buddy type ; sexy and glamorous are just not her. It’s time to try to change that... To change everything about herself. And maybe, just maybe, this flirty smile will be for her next time...

Warning : Swearing. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Kinda rough sex. ANGST.

Words : 7.7 k

Author note : This was supposed to be a one shot, but there will be a part 2. I will publish it this week (tuesday I hope).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

            Dean's hand brushes that girl's palm and those adorable wrinkles appear on his eyes for her, he gives her these sweet eyes I saw only in these circumstances; his head slightly bending on the side. His flirty smile.

"It's ridiculous" I grunt, taking a sip of my beer.

"Yeah" Sam chuckles.

But I struggle to swallow. The truth is I would give my life, my soul and everything else for Dean Winchester looking at me like this just once. For him to touch my hand that way. For whatever is to come with that girl. The idea of him sinking inside her is like a stab in my chest, but I'm used to that pain.

           I know I will never taste his lips, because I'm not that girl, not even close.

           I'm the kind of girl guys love because they can be themselves with her, I'm the buddy type. And along the way, I became Dean Winchester's friend. He gives me drinks and teases me all the time on my tastes in music, on my tastes in food, in men... If only he knew.

           It was quick for me to fall in love with him. I have never been in love before, not for real ; so I didn't really know what was happening to me at first. I never was the kind of girl that forces to laugh at men's joke, that wear pink or try to look like society wants women to be. I never faked a smile, but Dean, he makes me giggle like an idiot, and everything he says actually interests me. I'm fascinated by him.

           He's beautiful, but that's not even what I like the most about him. It's like I just could read him, his soul, the way he hides pain, the way his humor is way darker than people think, that incredible ability he has to be himself, that fake harshness and the size of his noble heart...

           He bends to catch the girl's lips and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the whine of pain coming up my spine.

           My stomach contracts at how empty I feel and I look down at my hands. That void I feel each time I come to the full conscience that I will never feel him on and inside me, it hurts way too much. It’s beyond craving, it’s like a part of me was missing.

"Are you okay ?" Sam asks, probably reading the sorrow on my face.

"Of course" I state. "I'm just tired, that hunt was a bitch."

           I want to drink too much, drown my stupid brain in fucking alcohol. The puking and hangover are way better than being able to imagine him with her, his hands on her hair, his tongue around her nipples...

           I get up and go to the bar, avoiding to get too close to Dean and her, I don't need to know her smell or voice, my brain would turn it into torture.

"Whiskey please, leave the bottle" I tell the bartender.

He doesn't look at me when he hands me the bottle, not even checking my age or my eyes. He is looking at Dean's conquest and that desire, almost envy, on his face catches my attention despite my will not to look at her.

           Taking the bottle, I glance at that woman everyone seems to admire. Dean's back is toward me so I can see half her face, behind his silhouette. She's pretty. A wide smile on her face, bright eyes, sulky hair and makeup ; she doesn't have scars, or bruises like me and her only wrinkles are just highlighting her smile, like she had never worried or frown.

           I pour whisky in my own glass and empty it, then do it again. I go back to my table to join Sam, my empty glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, it didn't even pay, but when the bartender will be back on Earth, maybe he'll ask me. Meanwhile, fuck him.

"I'm not holding your hair tonight Y/n" Sam sighs.

"Yeah... don't worry Sammy" I shrug.

 ***

           "Oh... fuck…" I grunt opening my eyes. "Oh ! Fuck !" I gasp before I run to the toilets to empty my stomach in the bowl.

Sam pushes the door and rubs his eyes.

"Y/n ?"

"Shut up..." I whine, pushing my hair out of my sweaty face.

I flush the toilets and get up stumbling, I start undressing, knowing Sammy will just not watch, and he turns his back on me to pee. When I enter the shower, I grunt at the warm water.

"Coffee ?" he asks.

"Yes please, with aspirin in it... What is that ?" I look at my very sore hand and see it's all purple and blue. "Sammy why is my hand all bruised ?"

He chuckles and when he washes his hands the water of the shower suddenly becomes cold for a minute.

"A guy called you babydoll and touched your ass" I hear the smile in his voice. "You broke his face before I could move."

Shit... I bet if someone had done that to Dean's pretty girl, she would have needed a prince in shining armor. Me, I just break faces. I grunt and put my head on the tiles, I'm just not a lady, maybe that's why Dean doesn't want me, even for a quick fuck...

           I'm in my jeans and bra when Sam comes back with coffee. He gives it to me and hands me aspirin. He slept in my motel room, that means Dean brought his girl in theirs. I frown and grunt, my eyes still barely open. Sam offers me an amused dimple smile.

"When you're around, it's like having another Dean" he mocks.

My heart breaks.

           I know it was not meant to be mean and being anything like Dean can only be a good think but... Am I really so far from being a girly girl ?

           I get up and take my clothes, my too long and worn out Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black rangers. I sigh. Yeah well maybe I don't dress like a princess too... Fuck !

           The door opens and Dean enters the room with cups of coffee in his hands. Each time that man comes near, something happens, like the colors were brighter, like my blood was warmer… He turns to me and raises his eyebrows, probably seeing what a mess I am, my wet hair all messy, the cuts and bruises on my arms, face and hands.

"You look like shit" he says and a new kind of stab hits my gut. "What did you do last night ? Did you see someone ?"

"Haha ! She met a guy !" Sam mocks and I grunt.

"Really ?" Dean frowns like it was beyond surprising.

"She may have broken his jaw" Sam chuckles and Dean comes closer.

"Did you fight again ?" he sighs, taking my hand to check on it.

He still smells like this girl’s perfume and I'm nauseous. I take my fingers back and show him I can move them fine with an annoyed look. Then I take the coffee of his hand and thank him.

"Hey !" he calls me when I'm about to take my bag to leave.

So I turn around and put a light kiss on his cheek like I do every morning, making him smile like a child. I stare for a little too long at his proud face and walk pass him.

           In the car I take my shoes off to put my feet on the backseat, Dean is mumbling the Metallica song, his beautiful strong fingers dancing on the rhythm against the wheel. And before I can look away, I have this vision of him sinking this amazing middle finger inside her core.

Shit... I'm nauseous again.

I guess in this world of blood and violence, coming deep inside a soft sweet angel-like princess must be a relief. I can’t enjoy one night stands anymore, but he can, good for him. It's not his fault if sex makes me feel dirty since I know him, like I was cheating...

           Stupid.

I just wish it would happen to me once... Having him. I know how dumb this sounds because I'd probably be dead with grief once he turns to a better girl again, but I would give anything to spend a night with him. I have to stop dreaming, he doesn't even see me as a woman.

           I frown and put my head back on the window.

"Hey Y/n ?" he says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. "Now the hunt is over, we finally have a little time together. We could do our horror movies marathon ? I can't wait to see your face when we wa..."

"You're the one hiding against me Winchester" I state with my usual a mocking grin.

It's not even a lie and he rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam who's still listening to some conference in his headphone.

"I just can't wait to eat all those candies we hid in your room, without Sam lecturing us" he smiles with his teeth showing and my heart melts.

           What if I tried...

What if I tried to be the kind of girls he likes ? I mean, I'm nothing special but with a little efforts I could at least become a girl in his eyes... Would he still be able to just stuff his mouth with sugar when he's so close to me in my bed, if he saw me as a real lady ?

           I look down at myself and sigh. I will have to change absolutely everything... But maybe this could work.

 ***

           It's only been a few hours since we got back, Dean went to take a shower and Sam went running, which doesn’t make fucking sense after a hunt so rough.

Taking a huge bite of that big double chocolate brownie, I stare at my laptop, watching stupid videos of makeover, style, makeup and how to do your hair ; and if I wasn't thinking of if Dean would like this thing or not... I would probably have died of boredom already.

           I should try to work on my attitude too. Swear less, sit straighter, be less loud, spontaneous, stop saying when I need to pee, drink less and try those stupid sweet cocktails when I do, let men defend me. I don't get to skip wax day anymore, I have to look sexy or eventually childishly cute, but not at all like I do right now. Boy !Being a “girl” is no fun at all.

           I look at the Pinterest and Instagram pictures of those pretty girls and put my brownie down watching my belly, a diet wouldn't hurt either.

           A knock on my door, Dean enters with a cute smile, his hair still wet. I close my laptop and throw the brownie in the trash, sitting straighter already, I pull my stomach slightly in.

"I bought beer" he says and sits on my bed, opening one for me but I shake my head. "Still too hangover ?" he asks and I nod.

           During the whole movie, I try to watch my attitude, not spreading my legs to put bowls of candies between them, not making fun of him when he jumps. And when he falls asleep beside me, I just stare at him thinking of how many things I would sacrifice for him. I dare touching his hair and leans to my touch, coming closer in his sleep. I want more.

I need more.

 ***

           I barely slept tonight, half stressed, half exited by my project.

As usual, Dean left in the middle of the night, kissing my forehead to say goodnight. I get up, eat fruits and shit instead of cereals and go running, drinking water, more water than what I usually drink in a week. I read coffee makes teeth become yellow and gives shadows under the eyes, so I will stop it too.

When I take my car to go fucking shopping -I always hated shopping-, I try my best to smile, looking on the mirrors of the car. Sweet and open Y/n...

           I manage to hold back my middle finger when a jerk takes the parking lot I wanted. I'm hungry but my body needs to learn to shut up. If I want Dean Winchester to consider kissing me, I have to be perfect. There is no compromise.

I try clothes and I feel like I'm wearing a costume, with those bruises and all, it's stupid anyway. So I decide to go one step at a time. I'll wear normal size shirts instead of oversized and a nice jacket first, I'm not ready for dresses or too colorful for now.

           I buy lace panties and push up bras then decide to throw away my other underwear to make sure I wear them, because they're so uncomfortable I will be tempted to go back... I keep drinking water when I buy makeup and nail polish, trying my best to both pull my stomach in and ignore the heavy perfume smell and the employees trying to sell me way too many things. I need girly shampoo and all, because I usually just use Dean's.

           Then I lock myself in my room for hours, fighting with my body, waxing with incredible care, putting sticky things on my hair to make them shiny, cream on my skin to make it soft, mascara to make my eyes bigger… I even pierce my own ears.

           But the more I try, the more I feel ugly. I always tied my hair in buns-easier to fight, run and look like an FBI agent- but now it’s down, and I look at these models,it seems dull… Same for every inch of my body. Why do girls do that to themselves ! Or maybe I’m the one that is a problem, maybe I’m just disgusting and avoided to see it for years. No wonder why Dean never looked at me.

           I stare at myself and sigh. Fuck. Even doing all that, there is about zero chance Dean would ever want me one day, even just for a night. It’s going to hurt way more than hunger and wax, but I have to go further, I have to pay attention when he’s with a woman…

 ***

             “MOTHERFUCKING BITCH !” I yell throwing the stupid scale against the wall.

It’s been three months and I haven’t lost a pound. I’m hungry all the time, from morning to the next morning, it’s even waking me at night. I only eat salad and drink water… I mean, my hands are shaking for Christ sake !

           Three months of trying so hard to act like a sweet fragile angel with a weakness for sin : cute and sexy. But I’m still swearing like a sailor when I don’t pay attention and I’m still fat. Hunts are becoming more difficult because I’m weak, and fun times with my friends are more rare, because they only do what I can’t : drink beers, eat burgers, make fun of horror movies, play whiskey poker… I used to love whiskey poker so much ; the night Dean invented it, we were beyond drunk but it was one of my best memories, he ended cutting my hair and it was bad, but I didn’t care at all.

“Are you okay ?” Sam says, opening the door but I close it brutally.

“Sam ! I’m a girl you know ! You and your brother can’t just enter the bathroom when I’m in it !” I yell through the door, hurt that they keep treating me as if I was the third Winchester brother, and worried they would see my ugly fat body...

“Sorry Y/n, I didn’t know you were naked” he states.

“Naked or not, Sam !”

“What’s the problem ?” I hear Dean ask his brother, and put my head on the door.

“She’s just grumpy again…” Sam sighs and I frown.

I do argue with them more often… I didn’t noticed that.

“Sweetheart ?” Dean calls though the door and tries to push it.

“Are you serious !” I cry out pushing the door. “Stop forgetting I’m a girl, you don’t get free access on the bathroom when I’m in it !”

“Okay” Dean just says and he leaves.

           I never forbid them to enter, and I have great memories of watching Dean brushing his teeth while I dried my hair, of his intimacy only hidden by a white towel around his waist while I joined him in the hot steam his shower made to talk about anything.

           My Dean and I used to be awesome… But in a buddy way. I feel tears fill my eyes but try to hold them back because I really don’t want to do my makeup again. I caught him staring at my cleavage yesterday, and he said lipstick suited me last week. I have to be strong, if Dean gives me that flirty eyes, I would be worth it.

           But we don’t talk that much either and… I really miss him in every way, I miss my friend and I feel lost and lonely. The sadness these thoughts bring, mixed with the exhaustion of hunger, and the pain of that unrequited love finally makes me fully burst in tears. My hand on my mouth I muffle the sounds of my sobs, realizing I will never have him, and probably fucked up the only good thing I had : That pure and loving friendship with the Winchesters.

 ***

             I take a bite of my salad and hold back a gag. Not that I don’t like salad, but eating only that is becoming really sickening. Dean looks at me and there is no kind expression on his face, that tender smile I used to see everyday faded along the weeks.

“Take a bite” he says, handing me his burger, cheese dripping on his fingers.

“What ? No…” I shrug. “I’m not super hungry.”

I’m not an idiot, at least not completely : I knew my best friends would notice a change in my behavior. I mean, Dean seeing a change is the all point, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying so hard. So lately I’ve been putting empty pizza boxes on the table from time to time. And my outfits were replaced slowly…

           But they’re not idiots either.

“I just want to check something” he says.

I can’t, after all these efforts, if I bite in that thing, I will become even fatter than I am, I can’t afford that…

“I don’t want to, Dean.”

“I made it myself” he insists, practically putting the food on my lips and the smell is becoming too tempting.

“Dean ! No ! I’m sure it’s delicious because your homemade burgers are always a success but it’s a no !” I push him wiping the ketchup that fell on my shirt. “What is wrong with you…”

“What is wrong with me !” his harsh tone surprises me. “I’m super worried, that’s what is wrong ! Do you have eating disorder now or something ?”

“What ? No ! Of course not, you know me !”

“Yeah… Do I ?” he asks before getting up, leaving his plate barely touched in front of me.

“Dean ?” I call but too low, he can’t hear me…

 ***

           I didn’t come out of my room. Not once, since Dean looked at me that way, a sad way, like I had betrayed him or something, just because of a burger…

           Who am I kidding ? It’s not because of a burger, my best friend just doesn’t recognize me. I can’t be that girl, I’m just not enough. Curling in my bed, I take a deep shaky breath, I’m really tired of crying so I just stare at the wall, thinking about what Dean must think of me. He must be disappointed, and that’s the worst I can imagine. Dean, my Dean, thinking low of me, annoyed or hurt because of me.

           A knock on the door. I lift my eyes to the red numbers in the dark : 10:18 pm. Usually, when one of the brothers knock on my door, they start talking to me through it and if I don’t yell that I’m naked, they just enter. Not this time. The knock is discreet and followed by a heavy silence.

           Surprised by that unusual quiet, I get up, arranging the top I was wearing because it went up my stomach. I open the door and my pupils grow, I can almost feel it, seeing Dean’s beautiful eyes in the lights of the corridor.

“Y/n…” he says with his deep voice, his right hand on his pocket. “I’m sorry I was a drag earlier. You need space from us, I get it… Living with guys…” his tone is a little sad but very kind, I don’t know what to say. “Just, don’t change who you are, please. You can eat what you want and wear what you want sweetheart, okay ?”

“I do” I nod to close the subject and ease that worrying on his handsome face.

He bends and slowly crushes the plumb of his lips on my forehead like he always does when he’s worried about me, after hunts, before hunts… when I’m sick or tired or anything. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this without ruining it with the pain of that stupid unrequited love.

“I just miss my friend” he says low. “I promise I won’t bother you more and knock and all, but could we spend a night together at the bar ? With Sammy ? Like we used too ? I miss that.”

The look on his face is like his brother’s puppy eyes and I feel both relieved and terrified. I miss him like crazy and just want to say yes and follow him running ; but if he leaves with a girl… It might kill me this time.

“Yeah… Okay” I sigh. If he gets with a woman, I’ll just try to observe her. “Can I just have a little time to get ready ?”

“Of course sweetheart” he nods, letting go of me. “Take your time.”

           After a few minutes trying to recover from Dean being so adorable, I finally managed to go to the bathroom. Tonight I will really try to look like one of Dean’s conquest, so I stare at it : the only dress I own.

           I bought it after I saw Dean glance at a girl in the street during the last hunt. It is the kind of dress I thought I'd never wear, I actually never even thought of wearing one in my life. The dress the girl wore was a little too sexy according to me, even slutty. Women should dress like they want to, but I wasn't ready for that super short red bustier dress, with boobs everywhere calling for attention.

           Yet, I have to become that girl, that's the whole point. If Dean likes his women bundled up in skinny dresses, so be it.

           I sight, looking at the girdle I have to wear to put that dress on, I empty my lungs and compress my stomach the more I can. Taking the dress, I hesitate, maybe this is too much.... But this is the prize to pay if I want any chance that Dean would look at me ; tonight I'm going to be that girl.

           The dress is simple but very sexy. Black taut fabric hugging me tight, with a cleavage like a bra, and straight straps, useless because the dress is so tight it holds me. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, I'm not enough.

           I put makeup, just mascara and lipstick, and right now I have trouble thinking I don't look like a whore, but I try to remember those girls Dean likes wear more makeup and even sexier closes, so...

           A knock.

"Y/n ?" Sam says. "If you don't get out of this bathroom, Dean will be drunk before we reach the bar.

           Shit, the short dress is so tight that my panties are showing.

"Yeah, go to the car, I'm ready !" I state through the door, taking off my panties.

I have no underwear that would be good with this dress... It is short, but not too much, and it's tight, so no one will see anything when I sit. I look at myself in the mirror and decide I just won't wear panties. I take my black leather jacket and leave the bathroom trying to hide I'm shaking.

 ***

           When I enter the garage, Sam and Dean are sitting on the edge of Baby, with Led Zeppelin playing. The girdle is hurting me but I stay straight, trying to look casual.

           The two men's eyes widen and I have no idea how I am supposed to understand their look but I try not to think of it. I give them a shy smile, like I was begging them not to judge. I was waiting for a comment or anything, but they just stay totally silent.

           In the car I don't know how to sit, I always put my feet on the seat but there is no way I can do that now, so I just stay there, held upright by this awful prison compressing my ribs and stomach.

           Dean checks on me on the rear-view mirror, his face totally neutral, like he was hiding whatever he is thinking... A few months ago, I would have made fun of him, I would have asked him what was wrong with me, I would have told him to look at the road -I always did that when I caught him staring at me in the mirror-, but now, I just look down.

           Being sexy is also feeling sexy, the woman on the video said. I'm not really the kind of woman that feels sexy, but I could try. The problem is, each time I try to focus on sexy things to make this work, I end up thinking of Dean, of when his beautiful hands land on me, of his smell and his shoulders, of his mouth... And in the end, I'm felling more horny than sexy. I guess not wearing panties is kind of sexy...

 ***

           The bar is not too crowded but loud, the sound of pool balls shocking on each others, and the manly laughs of men drinking alcohol. Tugging at my dress, I look around to see if any girl could catch Dean's attention : maybe that girl at the bar, but she seems to be with a man. People are looking at me, I'm not used to it, I feel like my lack of underwear is written on my face.

           When he passes behind me, Dean puts a hand on my back, sending a shiver all along my spine. He always does that, but I'm usually wearing real clothes.

"What do you want to drink sweetheart ?" he says and I hesitate.

Alcohol is caloric, I can't really afford to drink it. After a long hesitation, I decide a whiskey would make me forget all those eyes on me.

           Taking the first sip of the amber liquid, I close my eyes. This taste reminds me of some good memories when Dean and I stayed in the kitchen to talk, slowly sipping and smiling at each other.

"Pool ?" Sam asks pointing the other side of the bar with his beer bottle.

"Yeah I don't know" Dean looks down, making me wonder... He always loved pool.

"Come on Dean !" I smile raising up, the evening is supposed to be about saving my friendship with him.

He frowns like something was hurting him, his beautiful mouth forming a pout, his dark green eyes searching my face. I can't read him. He doesn't look at me like he always did, but not like he looks at those girls either. My smile fades and the air becomes thick.

           He gets up slowly and brushes past me when he walks to the pool.

"Okay, but you stay with me" he grunts.

I follow him and notice eyes are moving with me. I know what's happening : I must be embarrassing him, that’s why he acts weird. I swallow hard and watch him take cues, the muscles of his jaw are clenched.

"So Y/n... This dress..." Sam whispers close to my ear. "Is it just to make Dean mad or is there a guy you want to go home with ?"

My heart stops.

"Dean ?" I just say searching his eyes, but he laughs. "Why..."

I can't finish my sentence because Dean gets close to me to give me the cue he prepared. His handsome face still pretty stern, he offers me to start.

           The air is still thick and Sam's words turn in my head, bouncing in every directions, banging in my head like a lost bat. What does that even mean ? Dean must be disappointed in me, maybe little a big brother wouldn't want to see his sister wear a slutty dress... Maybe what he meant was that, as Dean wanted a friendship night, dressing like I'm waiting to leave them for a one-night stand is annoying. I don’t know who I am anymore, or how I am supposed to behave.

"Y/n..." Dean calls me from the other side of the pool. "You never lose at this game, even against me... Are you okay ?"

"Yes I..."

Pretty girls don't win against the man they want, they make them feel strong and all those bullshit that polluted my brain. I'm distracted and I have no idea what to think again. Right now, I just dream of becoming the old me again, slap his ass when I win just to mock him, make him pout, drink like him, swear and get rid of that awful pain on my ribs.

"I just need another drink" I finally chose to answer. "Whiskey ?"

He nods in a frown and I leave toward the bar.

           When I order a drink, this time, the bartender looks at me, and even if it's not the same place and the same man, I can't help but think it has something to do with how I look tonight.

"There sweetheart" he smiles and I shiver at the nickname I only heard from Dean's mouth. "Tell me... Those guys ?" he points his chin to Sam and Dean.

"What ?" I glower, completely forgetting the have-a-flirty-smile-all-the-fucking-time rule.

"You know… are you with one of them ?" he says with an actually kind corner smile.

"No" I state and his grin spread to his whole mouth.

He is cute, dimples on his soft face, dark caramel-colored skin, warm black eyes highlighted by thick black curled lashes. And the softness on his features finally make me give him back a smile.

"Good because I couldn't fight any of them" he chuckles with a hint of shyness.

I chortle lightly at how right he is without knowing it. I search his face; he seems sincere and kind, there is something calming about him, no violence, no pretention.

"Hi" a man appears behind me. "Can I buy you a drink ?"

I turn to him, confused, and see in the corner of my eyes that the bartender is looking down.

"No" I smile. "Thank you but I already have a drink."

The man sighs and leaves, muttering something that I probably would hate to hear ; and a few months ago I would have made him repeat.

"Daryll" the bartender says.

"Y/n" I state.

"Let me offer you this drink..." his charming dimples appear again. "It's rare enough to see a beautiful young woman ordering whiskey.”

For the first time in a very long time, I could actually picture myself spending a night with that guy and just this feeling is already amazing : It’s like I was free, my heart belongs to Dean but, if he doesn’t want me, maybe I could at least lend my body to a kind man. I look down at my glass and forget that he hits on me just because of the dress for an instant. Daryll is really cute and smiling to him is not an effort.

"Are they your brothers or something ?" he asks, putting his arms crossed on the counter.

"No..." I turn and catch Dean's eyes but look down. "Friends."

"Oh..." he says with a pained look. "One of them is an ex or a crush ?"

I give him a sad smile, not knowing what to answer.

"Okay... Maybe you want me to leave you alone" he sighs but I shake my head, taking a sip of alcohol to swallow the lump in my throat.

“No” I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s not new… Don’t worry.”

But his eyes leave mine to look behind me with a strange expression, something weirdly close to submission.

"Y/n" Dean's voice calls me from behind and I freeze. "Can I just... Talk to you ?"

I take a deep painful breath and turn slowly to see him, his sweltering charisma emanating of him, and just like that, my calming feeling of being able to see myself kiss -or more- Daryll fades. Dean eclipsing the entire world.

"Talk ?" I raise my eyebrows.

He just nods so I glance at the cute bartender.

"I... I'll be back" I say with no joy and he gives me a polite but disappointed smile.

           Dean starts to walk and I follow, looking at his shoulders, afraid of the discussion coming. He doesn't stop anywhere in the bar and leads me outside. It’s still warm ; I look up to see the stars shining behind the feeble lamppost light.

“Y/n” he turns around to face me, his bow legs lightly spread like he needed to be hitched to the floor. “What is that ?”

I can’t read his body language.

“What is what ?” I mutter, ready for reproaches.

“You know every man here is trying to find a plan to bring you home…” he grunts.

“Well each time you go somewhere, it’s the same…”

He crosses he arms looking up while he takes a deep inhale. An overwhelming urge to cry strangles me and I decide to leave, opening my purse, I start looking at my phone to call a cab and walk toward the side of the bar.

           Dean grabs my arm firmly.

“Where are you going ?” he asks, still pretty stern.

“I just want to go home, De…”

But I can’t finish my sentence because he pushes me against the wall, both hands making sure my shoulder touches the concrete. And before I can register any of what’s happening, his lips meet mine.

           Taking a deep inhale by his nose, he crushes those plumb lips made of dream on mine and my body reacts in a thousand ways. Pure electricity roam my skin and muscles, my heart seems to grow twice his size and his beatings fasten so hard my own blood is making me high ; every erogenous part of my body takes fire and a hot slick drips between my thighs instantly.

           I don’t move but Dean cups my face and kisses my mouth again, gently taking my upper lip between his. Parting my lips slightly, I feel his tongue graze me. I close my eyes and let him kiss me, he bends his head on the side a little and invades my mouth like he could only breathe through me.

           I could stay like this my whole life, completely lost in the perfect feeling of his face so close, in the taste of him… But he’s eager and his hands leave my cheeks to rub my shoulders and down my arms. I didn’t know my body could feel so intensely…

           A moan escapes me and his lips leave my mouth suddenly, letting it wet and swollen, open and burning. His nose grazes my ear, sending shivers run all over me, and he starts leaving open mouth kisses along my throat.

           By the time his hands reach my waist, I’m shaking. His fingers are like conquerors, winning every battle, pushing boundaries. They go down my ass and squeeze it strongly, crushing me to his own waist.

This is happening.

           My inner walls clench at this thought and my head falls back, only held by the concrete. He goes lower, catching the hem of my dress, slowly pulling it up, his nails scratching the back of my thighs. Another moan.

           When my dress is just under my intimacy, he harshly grabs my legs and carries me easily, encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. I do.

           He doesn’t take us far, just turning on the side of the bar, where the light of the lamppost doesn’t go, pushing me against the wall, his hips eagerly crushing his erection against me. His lips claim me again and, when they do, my body finally allows me to move.

           I grab his neck and scratch the back of his head, rolling my hips against him. That craving I endure since I know him finally about to be satisfied. He groans in my mouth.

“Fuck…” he bites my lip, his hips joining the movement of mine, and through the rough fabric of my dress and his jean, his hard length press on my sensible clit.

“Anh!” I cry out, clinging to him. “Oh… God” I inhale, the girdle blocking my lungs in a pain my brain just registers as pleasure, because each of my cell is illuminated with it for now.

“Y/n…” he whines, his teeth teasing my pulse point.

           My hands dare going lower, slipping inside his collar to feel the intoxicating move of his upper back muscles. The circle movements of my hips makes my dress slip higher and when my folds come into contact directly with his crotch, sweat breaks through my skin.

“Oh fuck…” I moan, my hips starting to shake.

His hands grab my ass to rub me more against him and I can notice his fingers searching my panties.

“No panties Y/n…” he states in a growl, bending to bite the part of my boobs accessible on my cleavage. “You’re soaking my jeans sweetheart.”

I nod and tug at his hair to dig my tongue between his perfect lips again. His hand falls between us and scrape my inner thigh, at the closeness of his fingers, my walls clench again, like it was trying to catch him. His fingers finally reach my folds and slip between.

“Dean !” I cry out. “Dean… Dean… God… Dean !”

My legs are spread wide to cling to him, so when his thumb find my clit, his middle finger encounter no trouble to reach my entrance, caressing it and pushing on it.

“Pleeease…” escapes my lips in a wail and he smiles in the kiss.

           Torturing me, his finger keeps pushing on my entrance without really entering me and I have never felt so empty. I’m pathetically trying to come closer, but that’s impossible.

           The tip of his middle finger finally pushes inside me and my pussy flutters. His free hand come up to grab my hair, I gasp but he doesn’t hurt me, he just tugs firmly but slowly at it to have access to my throat. He sucks a hickey on the side of it, and I let him mark me like I was his. I am, really.

           His strong finger enters me in one go, making me choke in ecstasy. He doesn’t wait and slips another, grunting when he pushes deep.

           I have dreamed of Dean since forever, I have pushed my own fingers inside of me thinking of him… But nothing could have prepared me for this. I’m soaking his hand, nothing ever made me that wet ; and when he crushes his hips on me in a low moan, making his digits go deeper, I can’t help but come.

           I’m silent, my lungs crushed by their prison, my blood burning in my head and cleavage. Gasping for air, I feel my walls crush him and electricity shocks my whole body.

           A deep growl vibrates inside him. He takes his hand off of me a little too fast and I hiss. His trembling hand attacks his belt but it's too slippery so he changes hand, putting the wet one on the wall behind me, and the other between us to free is aching cock.

           When he pushes his clothes down a bit, I can’t help but look down, biting my lips. Here it is, what I crave inside of me all the time, precum nonchalantly dripping of it, red and swollen. Beautiful.

“Dean… Take me” I plead.

“Yes” he groans. “Yes…” he repeats for himself.

           He lines his length with my entrance and I can’t help but moan and pant, still looking down to see his length disappear slowly inside me. When he pushes in, it’s harsh and faster than I had anticipated. A sharp pained pleasure makes me cry out loud.

           The hand on the wall finds my mouth and crushes on it to silence me. In the deep inhale I take through my nose, I can smell myself.

           He’s big. For a second my heart panics, like I couldn’t take him, but my walls flutter and while he doesn’t move, I have time to adjust to him.

“Are you okay ?” he pants in my ear, tickling me with his breath.

I nod despite his strong hand holding my face.

           He doesn’t wait longer, withdrawing almost completely before he powerfully pushes in again, making my eyes roll in my skull. A loud scream is muffled by his large palm taking half my face.

“Fuck… Y/n… How can you be so…” but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Grunting like a wild beast, he starts thrusting in me like he had waited for it as much as me. His powerful body carrying me like I weighted nothing. My ribs hurt but I don’t care at all because it can almost feel his cock between them. It’s like he was everywhere.

I love you, I think loud. Just because I’m used to say that when I think of him.

“Y/n…” he moans, and the hand on my face becomes so strong I think it could bruise my jaw.

I can feel his own pleasure, the sweat on his forehead, the shakes on his chest, the pleas in his groans, and the throbs of his cock deep inside of me. I grab his ass, slipping my hand inside his jeans to dig my nails in it, encouraging him to take me harder, even if I don’t know if I can take harder, simply because I never had it.

           When his thrusts turn to hard beats of his hips, I scream in his hand and my toes curl in my shoes.

“Fuck ! F-Fuck ! Fff…” his voice is intoxicating.

Fireworks explode everywhere in my body and I’m quite sure this is an orgasm until the real thing strikes like a lightning.

           My stomach contracts like I had a cramp and my thighs squeeze him stronger than I thought possible, my walls milk him and my head is spinning. I have never felt a pleasure so intense and tears soak my face.

“Oh G-G-GOD !” he cries out like he hadn’t anticipated the intensity of my orgasm at all.

           He stills deep inside of me and empties himself in a wail, grabbing my jaw brutally and clumsily to crush his lips on mine. His hips start to thrust lazily after he had stilled totally and his behavior changes. He wipes my tears, gently kisses my cheeks and rubs my neck like he was trying to erase the marks his body roughly let on me.

           My brain starts to register what’s happening and I look at him, amazed by his beauty and the feeling of him. I didn’t think it would be possible to love him more…

But, when I can’t help but smile to him, the look on his face hits me like a hundred punches in the guts.

He already fucking regrets.

No flirty smile. Not even a kiss.

Regret.

What was I thinking ?

           After Heaven, it’s like I was thrown in Hell. I push on his lower stomach to make him withdraw, and he does, my feet reach the floor again. Not looking at me, he puts his now soft cock back in his pants, closing his belt in a disapproving shake of his head.

           I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood in my mouth. The world is spinning. His cum is dripping out of me, along my thighs and I look down to see it. Grabbing my purse on the floor, I take a tissue from it and wipe my thighs, an intense feeling of shame making me nauseous.

           He watches me struggle with it and offers me to take the tissue to throw it away with a movement of his hand. I’m so stupidly in love with him, I have the paranoid feeling he just wants to take that back from me… I give him the tissue and he wipes his thumb when cum reaches his skin.

“Are you okay ?” he asks, like I could be.

I nod looking down, tugging at my dress to hide this body I now definitely hate.

“I didn’t hurt you sweetheart ?” he insists.

“No Dean…” I find my voice.

“Good” he states with that serious low voice of him.

“I want to go home” I say faking a casual tone.

“Sure” he nods. “Let me get Sam and your jacket…”

He gets closer and puts one of those usual friendly kisses on my temple.

I did it. I made Dean want me. But this victory just really doesn’t feel like one…

(To be continued...)

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[kimberly-spirits13]

Conference (Day 1, Pt 2)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You are the daughter of a famous politician and are attending his conference in New York. After hearing your concerns about not knowing almost anyone in the top 1% that your family was in to whom was your age, he and your mother decide that it is time to meet your father’s friend’s son, Damian Wayne. The only issue? He’s the most arrogant, rude, and maybe handsomest person that you’d ever heard of.

Warnings: None J

Word Count: 1013

           “He’s cute, but where’s the food?” You thought to yourself as your father led you to two men who were now aware of his approaching presence.

           “Y/N this is my good friend Bruce and his son Damian.” Your father said, “Bruce this is my daughter Y/N.”

           Y/N flashed a smile and shook his hand. You two engaged in a small conversation but it was pretty basic. Eventually, your father and Bruce were engrossed in their own conversations with each other and other people.

           “I’m Damian by the way.” The black -haired boy said.

           “So I heard.” You replied, “Y/N.” She said.

           The both of you shook hands, you noticing that his hands were kind of sweaty.

           “So what’s it like being the daughter of a politician?” He asked.

           “Oh, it’s absolutely lovely.” You said sarcastically almost laughing, “And you heir of Wayne Enterprises?”

           “Honestly terrible. The media is unnecessarily intrusive on everything.” He said.

           “You’re telling me. Half of the people I get stopped by are just looking for some drama to partake in.” You stated.

            “Or some sort of argument over nothing that they know about.” Damian added.

           “Absolutely. So why are you here?” You asked.

           “Father dragged me along. He said that he wanted me to meet your father and yourself.” He answered, “And I presume that you’re here on the same account?”

           “You’d be correct.” You said, “I assume that this was set up by the two.”  

           “Kids, it’s almost time for the food to come out.” your father said.

           You headed to the table with your father and the Wayne’s, and sat down in front of the stage. The first part of the meal was brought out by waiters and staff as your father made his way to the stage to greet everyone.

           “Hello everyone and welcome to night one of the Y/L/N Corporations Conference.” He said with a smile on his face, “I’d like to recognize our sponsors, Google, Facebook, Instagram, and New York State Bank.”

           Your father continued on with his opening speech until he walked back down the stage he sat next to you, smirking at how well you and Damian seemed to be getting along. You two were now talking about different languages that the both of you knew, and places that you had traveled.

           “The two kids seem to be getting along.” Bruce said quietly.

           “As we hoped.” Your father replied, “Y/N was very apprehensive about the trip, but I needed to drag her away from her studies. I swear my daughter would lock herself in her office or library and study until the end of time if she could.”

           Bruce smirked some, “She is ambitious.”

           Your father made a face, “Maybe too much.” He chuckled, “Is Damian like that?”

           “Reserved yes, and he does delve into his studies more than the average teenager.” Bruce replied.

           “So, what do you think?” You asked Damian, “Paris city life, or Paris countryside?”

           “Country.” He replied sitting back in his chair.

           “Ah, and that is where we see things differently.” You said, “I prefer the city but I think that the countryside is beautiful.”

           “So where have you traveled?” He asked.

           “A few countries, Canada was the first place I went to that was out of country. Then France, England, Germany, Italy, Greece, Belgium, Singapore, Japan, Australia, Austria, Switzerland, and just a few other places.” You replied listing off a few countries that you had traveled to, either for vacation or business with Y/L/N Corporations, “What about you?”

           “I’ve been everywhere.” He chuckled to himself like he knew something that you didn’t. He listed off a few countries as you had and the conversation continued until the end of the dinner.

           The people started filing out of the ballroom and making their way back to the own hotel rooms. Damian walked over to you from his father to say goodbye.

           “It was wonderful meeting you Y/N.” He said giving a slight hint of a smile.

           “It was lovely meeting you as well Damian. I hope to see you tomorrow?” You answered.

           “My father and I will be in attendance for the rest of the conference.” He informed before Bruce called him back over so that they could also leave for their room, “See you tomorrow.”

           “See you tomorrow.” You replied waving some before walking back to your father.

           You and your father walked to the elevators and got it, heading back to the suite to get ready for the people that were meant to be coming over in only 20 minutes or so.

“Father are the Wayne’s coming upstairs tonight?” You questioned as the two of you walked out of the elevators.

“No, just the sponsors.” He answered, “How did you and Damian get along?”

“Well you were staring and smirking at us the entire time, so you tell me. How do you think we got along father?” You asked crossing your arms.

“Well from what I just so happened to observe, the both of you seemed to be getting along quite well.” Your father said opening the door.

“I guess your observations were correct, we got along very nicely. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to make some tea and head to my room the hermit for the night.” You threw your heels into the bedroom and then made some tea before heading back into the bathroom and washing off all of the makeup that you had put on and braiding your hair so that it would be wavy in the morning.

Once you were washed up, you got on some a light grey lacy tank top and grey pajama bottoms before putting on some fuzzy socks. After grabbing your laptop, you proceeded to get onto Pinterest and YouTube for a little while before heading to bed. Your father had informed you that the two of you would be going out to lunch with the Wayne’s that afternoon. Night life settled into the city as you drifted asleep. The next thing you remember is the sound of your phone alarm waking you up.

[ouronlyangelhes]

The Girl on The Side: Harry Styles Imagine Part 3

This is probably the final part. I can do some blurbs if you guys would like as a glimpse into the future if you’d want to see that! Thanks for all the love I’ve gotten on this series. As always, my requests are open so send me any ideas you may have! 🥰 Link to Series can be found in my description under masterlist!

The past few days have had your mind racing. You have been stressed out and exhausted beyond measure. You are still trying to wrap your mind around how to begin to tell Harry that you are pregnant. Will he want to be a part of the baby’s life? How will he react to this? The thoughts left your head spinning.

You wanted to put off telling him. But, you realized the longer you wait it will only become harder. You couldn’t hide it forever, pretty soon you were going to start showing and then nothing would be a secret.

You walked into work with an extra level of anxiety filling your body. Nervous, anxious, scared, are all emotions that were flooding your mind. It had to be done, he deserved to know the truth. You knocked on the door of his office, he waved you in. It seemed he was on some sort of conference call. You sat down at the chair across from him while you waited for his phone call to end. His office was much different than yours. Yours was filled with pictures, pictures of your friends and family, places you’d traveled, something off of Pinterest really. Your office had a homey like vibe to it. Right now, in this moment, Harry’s office seemed like the coldest place in the world.

He was finishing up his call and your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. Your hands were nearly shaking you were so nervous. After what felt like ages, Harry finally ended the call.

“What’s up love?” Harry said as he looked up at you.

“Uh, we need to talk and its’ important.” You said with nothing but your voice trembling.

“Uh oh, that’s never good. Seriously though, what’s up.” He asked.

“I’m pregnant. I found out the other day when I went to the doctors. Obviously, it’s yours. I just needed to tell you and I- I’m gonna go.” You couldn’t handle it. You had to get out of there. You felt like you were suffocating, you needed fresh air. It wasn’t suppose to be like this. You were suppose to fall in love, get married, and then have a couple of kids. It wasn’t suppose to happen like this. The thing is though, you were in love. You were so in love it was stupid, the real stupid part was you were in love with someone who was incapable of truly being yours.

You had taken off out of Harry’s office. You hadn’t even noticed him following you out into the busy London street until you head him calling your name.

“Wait Y/N, wait.” He said as you finally turned around to face him.

Tears were falling down your face and you couldn’t even get words out. It wasn’t suppose to be like this.

“I’m scared Harry. I’m scared that I am ruining your life, I am scared that I am going to be raising a child by myself. I am terrified that all of this is just going to get so messy and I am just going to look like some dumb whore that you fucked and got pregnant and abandoned.” You said as you vented out your feelings.

“Hey, look don’t say that about yourself. You know that’s not you.” He said.

“Do I? Because lately to me it seems that your married Harry, to a real nice person who’s heart is going to be broken and her life turned upside down by me. I don’t think she’s going to take kindly to that.” You said, tears still falling.

Shit. His wife. He was in total shock when you had told him that you were pregnant and then the next thing he knew you had taken off and ran outside. Maybe you were right to have some kind of fear. Harry was in such shock he hadn’t really had a minute to process the consequences of his actions. He was going to have to tell his wife that he had been unfaithful to her. Not just once, but multiple times. He was going to have to look her in the eyes and tell her that he had been having an affair and that he had gotten her pregnant. He was going to have to break the heart of the love of his life. He didn’t know if he had it in him to do, but he was going to have to.

“Look we’re going to figure it out ok. I just need some time to be able to talk to Sarah and just process this all. I promise you won’t do this alone. I wouldn’t do that to my own kid. I could never.” He said.

“Okay, yeah do whatever you need to do. I’m gonna take some days, I have some that I haven’t used. I could use the rest. Just let me know when you’ve figured it out, ok?” You said as you walked away.

Your boss was totally understand when you said you needed to take some personal days. She was more than thrilled actually, she had been telling you take them for ages and you finally got around to it. You felt slightly more relaxed after talking to Harry, but also very guilty for the chaos you know you have unleashed in his life.

Obviously, two people were in the wrong in this situation, but it still didn’t seem to make you feel any less awful. It had been three days since you had that conversation with Harry. Shockingly, you were surprised that you hadn’t heard from him yet. You expected him to send you a text, call you, something, but so far it had been radio silence.

You had put off setting up the first doctors appointment because it just didn’t feel right to go alone. Harry should be there with you and you were going to let him sort everything out and give him some space to do so. At first, the whole pregnancy thing hit you and left you feeling nothing but shock and panic. Now, you were actually a little excited about the tiny human that would be born and make its way into your life.

The majority of your day had been spent in bed, dosing in and out of consciousness, or on the couch curled up in a blanket watching whatever was on the telly.

It was getting late and you decided that you best head of to sleep unless you wanted to wake up again on the couch in your living room with a stiff neck. You were about to head up the stairs to you room and go to sleep when you heard a noise coming from outside the door of your apartment. You open the door to find a distraught and potentially intoxicated Harry outside your door. His eyes are red from crying and it seems he hadn’t mustered up the courage to knock on your door yet.

“Harry? What are you doing out here? Are you ok?” You asked as you sat down on the ground next to him.

“She le- she left me.”’ Harry said as he sobbed hysterically into your chest.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You said as your heart broke along with his.

“She just- just left me. She said that I had betrayed her and there was no way that she would be able to trust me again. She left. She’s the love of my life and now she’s gone and I’m alone.”

He said as he continued to sob. You had never seen Harry in a state like this. Harry had always been that serious, charming, and charismatic guy. You had never seen a side of him that was quite this vulnerable. It pained you that he felt like he was all alone. If anyone should feel like they were alone it was you. You were pregnant and the love you had in your heart for the father of your child was not reciprocated. Harry, on the other hand was so loved by you, more than he could ever know.

“Harry, you’re not alone ok? I promise you’re not alone, you have me.” You said as you continued to hold him.

“You’re not her, you’re not her.” He said as he was beyond hysterics and clearly had been drinking and sobbing for hours. Those words stung. As much as you wanted to just leave him out in the hallway, you couldn’t. No matter what hurtful things he had said, it didn’t change that he was the father of your child.

“Come inside Harry, c’mon let’s get up.” You said as you finally got him inside your apartment. You got him situated on the couch and fell asleep shortly after.

If you didn’t feel guilty before, you sure as hell did now. Your desire to have a man that was never meant to be yours, ended up costing him everything. He obviously made the choice to pursue things with you, as well but you had realized how messed up things had gotten along the way. How would you explain this to your child one day? When he or she asked why mummy and daddy weren’t together? What would you say? All of the thoughts continued to run through your mind as you got yourself in bed and turned off the lamp beside your bed.

You had finally drifted off to sleep, when you felt a dip in the bed. You felt an arm drape across your body and a chin nuzzle into your shoulder. You didn’t dare to move. It was moments like this you were a sucker for. It was the little intimate moments that you had held near and dear to your heart throughout your relationship with Harry.

The daylight woke you up, you rolled over to find a still very asleep Harry next to you. You slowly crawled out of bed, doing your best not to wake him.

“G’ mornings. God, my head is pounding.” He said.

“I can get you so aspirin and water to help your head.” You said.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He said.

You walked downstairs to the kitchen cabinet to grab some Aspirin for Harry. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, signaling Harry had gotten himself out of bed.

“Here’s the aspirin for you.” You said as you slid the glass of water towards him.

“Thanks.” He said as he took the medicine.

“So, about last night. I’m sorry that I came over here and was in the state I was in. Yeh don’t deserve that, I’m sorry.” He said as he apologized for the events that took place.

“It’s ok, you seemed really distraught and upset when I found you in the hallway by my door.” You said to him.

“Again, i’m really sorry. I shouldn’t of come here but I just didn’t have anywhere else to go. The other day you mentioned setting up a doctors appointment, have you done that yet? Because I’d really like to go with you if you wouldn’t mind.” He asked trying to make himself feel as included as possible.

“I haven’t set it up yet, I was trying to give you some time to figure out what was going with you before I started setting things up. I can call today and see when they have an opening and you can tag along. I don’t want to keep you from being a part of anything Harry, I couldn’t do that.” You said trying to comfort his worries.

“Thanks, I would really like to be there. I should get going, you shouldn’t have to put up with me all day, I’m gonna get out of your hair. Just call me once you’ve set up the appointment and I’ll be there, ok?” He said as he began to collect his various items that he left scattered around your apartment.

“I will let you know, promise.” You said as you handed him his jacket that was on the back of the chair in the kitchen.

Harry got his belongings together and he was out the door.

You called and made an appointment shortly after Harry had left. The nurse on the phone had made you an appointment that was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. Today was Monday, it felt like ages until the appointment. You were nervous, you wanted everything to be alright with the baby and make sure it was all healthy.

You decided to text Harry and tell him that you had the appointment scheduled so he could plan to attend.

I called the doctor and they scheduled me for Wednesday at 2:45 so you can put it on your calendar. 11:04 am

Sounds great. I’ll be there! I can pick you up if you’d like, and we can go together. 11:18 am.

That’d be great!! Pick me up at 2:15ish? 11:21 am

Works for me. See you then. 11:23 am

Now you waited. Waited for Wednesday.

Wednesday finally came around and you were just desperate to get the appointment over and done with. You wanted to make sure everything was okay so the stress would be lifted off. Harry was set to be here in just a few minutes, you made sure you had everything together that you needed.

You walked out to the car to find Harry parked in the usual spot he likes talking on the phone. You reached for the door handle to get into the car and you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. He seemed distracted and you decided that you best wait till he got off his call to say hello.

“I just don’t understand why all of this has to happen so fast. She just moved out the other day. I don’t understand why she won’t meet with me or call me back. All I want to do is have a proper sit down with her, if she still wants us to sign the papers after that then I guess I’ll have done all I can.” He says noticeably upset.

You figure he was probably talking to his lawyer or her lawyer, sounded pretty intense. She was already wanting a divorce? You’d imagined if you were in the same situation you’d probably not have wanted anything to with the man who had an affair with someone else behind your back too. But still, your heart broke for him.

“Alright, well I’ll be in touch soon. Thanks.” He said as he hung up.

“Sorry about that.” He said as he looked at you.

“It’s fine, is everything ok?” You asked immediately regretting your word choice.

“It’s not ok, but it will be soon hopefully. She wants a divorce and I really can’t say that I blame her. What I did to her was absolutely awful and I don’t think I blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.” He said.

“I’m sorry H, really am.” You said trying to make him feel better.

The rest of the car ride was silent, aside from the casual noise coming from the radio.

When you finally got called back to see the doctor, all of your anxieties came rushing in. You just wanted the appointment to be over, you just wanted to see your baby.

“Hello, how are we today?” Dr. Johnson asked as she entered the room.

“Good, thanks.” Both you and Harry answered in unison.

“Let’s go ahead and have a look at this baby! We will try to get an estimate on how many weeks you are as well as some photographs, we know that first time parents love those and want to give them out to everyone.” She said as she continued to fiddle around with the ultrasound machine.

“Okay, so if you look right here, you’ll be able to see your baby. Everything looks great so far, your around 16 weeks so we won’t be able to determine the sex of the baby for at least another 2 weeks or so. I’ll turn the machine up so you can hear the heartbeat.” She said as she turned it up.

There it was, there was your baby. You and Harry had made a tiny little person. Pretty soon you’d be able to figure out the sex of the baby and doing all sorts of planning. It was pretty real when you had found out you were pregnant but the majority of what you had felt in that moment was shock. Now, the shock had worn off and excitement had set in.

“That’s really our baby?” Harry asked the doctor.

“Yes! Mighty heart beat for such a small human! Roughly the size of an avocado I would say now.” She said to Harry.

“Wow.” Harry said as he sat down in the chair next to you.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes and then I’ll send the nurse in and she will give you some pictures to take with you. I’d like to see you back in another two weeks, then we can check on the baby and hopefully determine the sex.” She said as she walked out.

“That's really our baby in there, it’s so small. It’s just crazy.” Harry said as he reached to grab your hand.

“I know, it just seems so real now. I mean it was real before, but now having pictures and hearing the heartbeat just made it even more real.” You said.

“I love you , you know.” He said to you.

His words left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No you don’t, you may think that you do or you may really want to love me, but I know that you don’t. You want to love me because it’s convenient and we’re about to have a baby together, but deep down I know your feelings don’t match mine for you.” You said to him.

“But I think I could love you, I think really could.” He said.

“And maybe one day you will, but I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting for you to love me Harry. We are having a baby and that needs to be what consumes our attention. And believe me once he or she gets here that’s all we will be thinking about. If the day comes around, that you can 100% without a doubt say that you’re in love with me, then that’s great and we will see what comes of it. But please, don’t say those words to me unless you really mean them ok? That isn’t something that deserves to be tossed around lightly. You have a huge heart Harry, one day you might find it in there for real to love me. But if that day doesn’t come, then it doesn’t. I just need you to love our baby with everything in you right now.” You said to him.

“I understand. I already love this little baby more than you know. I can’t wait for the day we can take our little boy home or little girl from the hospital.” He said as he stroked the hand he was still holding.

You knew that Harry was trying. He was so desperate right now, Sarah just leaving him and finding out he is going to be a father. That’s a lot for anyone to process. He doesn’t need to be focusing his energy on you, his energy needs to be focused on the baby. Maybe one day his feelings will be real for you and make all of your dreams come true. But if they don’t, then your hope is that he is able to make all of your baby’s dreams come true and be able to be the amazing father you know he will be.

I hope you loved it! Let me know what you think and if you like a little blurb on where they are now!

[sybvrites]

hi angels! im bee, 20, a general mess... u get the picture. this is hugo and he’s... idk what he is but he’s my baby :))) this is really long so you the best if you read it in full && as always my discord is the uk's weird farmer cousin#1697 if y’all want speedy replies for plotting !

tw: death & drug use.

( xavier serrano, cismale, he/him, twenty-two ) — have you seen hugo talbot, the history and politics student around oxford yet ? i hear they can be acerbic and meticulous, but those who know them insist they’re reminded of driving too fast on an empty road, the whipping wind in a thunderstorm, cashmere turtlenecks & worn poetry books when they’re around. rumour has it that his parents died during the execution of an insurance scam. is it true ? only time will tell…

FULL NAME: hugo byron talbot DATE OF BIRTH: november 3rd, 1996 PARENTS: gregory talbot & marianne cunard-talbot  NATIONALITY: english  IMPORTANT LINKS: statistics & pinterest.

BACKSTORY

hugo was born on november 3rd, ironically the same day as his mother’s birthday, born twenty-six years apart. marianne cunard-talbot was, to put it bluntly, not the motherly type. her own mother left her and her father when she was one, and since kenneth cunard had no other possible heir to the family business ( and fortune, mind ) the proverbial crown was laid on her brow. with no mother figure in her life, it seemed the capabilities escaped her, as they escaped her husband too. gregory talbot, as a second son to a wealthy family, had little to inherit but a mind for business. when they met at cambridge, both studying literature, in the eighties it wasn’t a match made in heaven, it wasn’t love at first sight, but they made a good team — it was enough.  two more children followed after hugo, and while they lacked a significant amount of guidance from their own parents ( or any sort of guidance at all, really ), they made do with themselves. while hugo and his siblings stayed in london, his parents continued to live in southampton where the headquarters for cunard corporation was, and let the nannies that they’d hired handle the raising of their kids. the lack of supervision and general parenting only served to create an air of entitlement around hugo. he knew from a young age that he was going to be an important man when he grew up, that he would be a powerful man. it was only enforced by the fact that when marianne and gregory would visit it was mainly to nitpick at their children, enquire after their grades and ensure that nobody was stepping out of line.  at thirteen hugo had to leave his siblings behind to attend eton. despite the fact he would return every weekend he still felt the separation from his siblings keenly, they had after all barely been apart for their whole lives. on his first day at eton, he tripped over someone else’s suitcase as he exited his car, and when he turned to angrily confront the owner of the case, he came face to face with thomas. they became fast friends despite the fact that hugo couldn’t help but remember, and wish to rebel against, his parents wish for him to befriend the heir to the throne. the tom he knew wasn’t the crown prince, but rather the boy who had never been allowed his own freedom, a boy who was only just beginning to discover who he was without his parents telling him who he had to be.  by the time hugo was sixteen, and tom seventeen, both had begun to dabble in illicit substances. their reasons were different of course, but it wasn’t as if they necessarily needed reasons to get high and pretend they weren’t going to have the weight of the world on their respective shoulders in ten years. but while hugo usually kept sober unless there was a party, tom seemed to want to spend his time being perpetually high. it was easy to ignore it, his best mate seemed happier after he’d done a few lines, but he also seemed flirtier. tom had come out almost immediately after they’d met, and it was like all the weight had lifted off of his shoulders, sharing his secret with another person seemed to help him immensely. hugo couldn’t say when he began to realise that tom had a crush on him, maybe it was from the very moment they’d met, but throughout the years it started to become abundantly clear. at a friend’s twenty-first birthday party he still felt completely blindsided when tom got high and wasted, and then tried to convince hugo to sleep with him. 

he was eighteen when his parents passed away, it was strange to him because despite their lack of presence it always felt like they were hovering nearby, just waiting for him to mess up, or for his brother or sister to, so they could blame him. it was an accident they said, something went wrong on one of the ships and unfortunately, it took his parents with him when it sunk. his grandfather pulled him aside at the funeral to tell him what happened, he claimed it was hugo's right now, considering once he left university, it was all his. he told hugo about how the cunard fleet was losing more money that it was making, how there was a plan to sink the least valuable to bring in more money, to supplement the loss of money. he told hugo how the plan went awry and the ship didn't sink when it was meant to on its return from australia, and when they went to inspect the ship and why it didn't go down, it sank with them on it. the money was still going to be beneficial to the company, and now the insurance company would be hard pressed to believe that the ship was tampered with, considering who was aboard. the secret had to be kept, he was going to have to keep it for his whole life if he valued his handle on the company and their resulting wealth. it was hard, losing his parents and being burdened with such a secret. his only solace was tom, who didn't know what it was to lose family, but understood what it was like to feel so disconnected.

he would never admit it to his best friend, hell, he’d never admit it out loud, period, but while his mate had been harbouring feelings for him, hugo had a crush of his own. tom’s sister eleanor was quiet around him, he wasn’t sure they’d ever really had a proper conversation and yet every time he caught sight of her when he’d visit tom his heart would kick up and his palms would sweat. it all came to a head when, at tom’s cousin’s twenty-first birthday, he rescued nora from a handsy party-goer and began seeing her in secret, namely so tom wouldn’t find out. their relationship was easy enough to hide, he would stay with tom and sneak off to eleanor’s room once he’d passed out, she would arrive at his door with a hermès scarf to shield her face and hair from those who might recognise her. by the time it had become abundantly clear to the both of them that it was a completely serious relationship and decided that it was time to go public and share their news with tom, and scheduled a press conference ( because an instagram debut was awfully uncouth ), they’d been together for almost a year and a half. 

with the press conference scheduled for the monday after their respective birthdays, and having resolved to sit down to dinner on sunday with eleanor’s family to tell them the truth, both hugo and eleanor went into the weekend confident and happy. tragedy was never far away though, it always seemed to loom on the horizon. after a wild saturday night, tom and hugo found themselves back at buckingham palace, hugo drunk and tom exceptionally high. a quick slip of the tongue ( “ god i’m going to regret this in the morning, nora’s going to kick my ass if i go back to her in this state. ” ), had him thinking he’d ruined everything before nora could present her arguments to her family. instead, tom gave his blessing and sent hugo off to his sister to enjoy the rest of his birthday. he’d thought it was the best weekend of his life, he went home to get ready for dinner and was interrupted by his phone ringing — it was the phone call that he felt turning his life upside down. his girlfriend told him how the maid came to wake him, he was late for breakfast, she shook him and he didn’t wake up. a heart attack, nora told him. the press conference planned for them was used to announce his best friend’s death, the best weekend of his life so quickly turned into the worst.

CURRENTLY

hugo is still trying to work through losing tom, he’s not about to admit to anyone that losing someone who he’d just assumed would be there for… well, forever, was taken so quickly. it also impeded the announcement for his and eleanor’s relationship and forced them back into the dark when they’d been preparing to be able to not sneak around, and now they’re back to where they were before. 

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: astute, meticulous, loyal NEGATIVE TRAITS: acerbic, calculating, imperious  hugo is, above all else, extremely sharp. when it comes to people it usually takes approximately a sentence to leave their mouth before he's made his judgement on them. this also applies to his schoolwork and actual work ( on the occasion that his grandfather requires another set of trusted eyes ). in all things he does he is exceptionally precise, mostly a result of the scrutiny he faced with his parents expecting every move to be absolutely perfect. above all else, and probably the trait he would tell a person he possesses, he is extremely loyal, mostly to his family. there are few people he would go to the ends of the earth for and without a doubt his siblings are the first two ( and eleanor ). he was never raised to be soft, he was raised to run a multi-billion dollar corporation, and as such he never learnt to edge his words with honey, his words always tend to sound as if they have an edge to them, almost confrontational. if a person knows him well enough, they would understand that he usually means nothing by it, he doesn't care enough about most people for it to mean anything. when approaching any situation, his cunning is one thing he has no problem in using, it's often little more than a means to an end as long as it benefits him or someone he cares about. he also has a habit of coming across as quite pompous, he's lived a life where he hasn't ever wanted for anything, everything is served up on a silver platter. as such his view of the world is also quite skewed and his knowledge of simple things like grocery shopping is nonexistent. it makes him come off as conceited and haughty, once the layers are peeled back he is definitely a different person, alas he's hard pressed to let anyone close enough to see him.

PLOTS

okay, i'm definitely spitballing because connections for him are genuinely hard, i can almost guarantee that while i don't think he makes enemies, he's certainly not making friends with many people. he's probably friendly with most people in the riot club, but nowhere close to someone he actually considers a close friend. in saying that, here are a list of connections i can see, but i'm so happy to brainstorm some fun things up ! 

close friends ( 0/2 ) — would have also been close to tom, and i imagine each of them brought a different dynamic/layer to the group ( for instance i definitely think tom was hooking up with one of their mates ). past hookups ( 0/? ) — obviously he isn't hooking up with anyone right about now but i definitely think he was a bit of a fuccboi before eleanor.  childhood friends ( 0/1 ) — hugo never really got out much as a child, but when he did it was usually with this character, their parents were likely friends of his own parents and thus, this character would have been ' approved '. party friends ( 0/2 ) — i imagine that these two were the ones who helped him get through tom's death where eleanor couldn't, he had, and still has, a lot of frustration regarding his friend's passing and i can see him just wanting to go out, drink far too much and forget about things for a little while. riot friends ( 0/? ) — he's not very... chummy with many people, but considering everyone in the riot club are of a similar calibre, he definitely feels more comfortable calling most people in riot more than acquaintances. 

[passionate-hedgehog]

HOW WE CAME TO BE  pt 4

  A/N: This one took longer than I liked. I wanted to think it through and figure out what I wanted for this story...thing, and how I wanted it to get there. I know some people are waiting for something specifically to happen and I promise it’ll be soon.

Thank you to everyone that reads these! If you want to be tagged in HWCTB parts let me know!

tagline @angelameliajadearmitage @shenko @kristidenise @frickin-bats @breakawayfromeveryday

It had been only a hand full of days since the doctor released you from the hospital, but the slow goings were going...well...slow. You were doing what the doctor told you to do, to take it easy and get lots of rest after that drunk driver hit you. Dr. Sinclair hadn’t exactly said “bed rest", but he might as well have. You didn’t understand how you could be so bored.

   You’re best friend, Pree, had been spending a lot of time with you at your apartment. She wanted to make sure you and the baby stayed healthy and in bed. There were lots of doughnuts and orange juice as of late. You knew that since you were pregnant, your snacks should have been healthier. The baby, however, has only been demanding the cake doughnuts with sprinkles and sugar-free orange juice.

   When Spencer stopped by a few days after your release, he eyed the containers but didn’t say anything. It was akin to how you didn’t say anything to him about the baby at the hospital. You also hadn’t said anything after being released. It was slowly killing you, but you couldn’t do it. You didn’t know how to tell Spencer you were having a baby, his baby.

    Your relationship with Spencer had shifted since you started keeping such a big secret from him. He was pulling away, and you couldn’t blame him. You had picked up the phone so many times, been tempted to call a cab to take you to the BAU so many times but nothing could make you do it. No matter how hard you tried.

   You were lounging on your couch, eating one of the half-dozen of doughnuts that Pree had stopped by with before she had to be to work at the elementary school she taught at. She was adamant that you would need the dozen, but you didn’t feel the urge to develop early on-set diabetes. There was a book of names in your lap and a smaller booklet telling you about what your cravings meant. You hadn’t really been able to pay attention, though.

   The day before, you were surfing Pinterest in hopes of ideas for things to do while “taking it easy.” You happened to stumble upon ways to reveal your pregnancy to friends and family. What caught your attention, though, was finally figuring out how to tell Spencer about your future.

   Your cell rang, and when you picked it up off the table, caller ID let you know that Pree was calling you on her lunch. You quickly swallowed the lump of doughnut you were still chewing and swiped your screen.

   “Yallo?” You asked, purposefully trying to annoy your friend.

   “Y/N.” Pree rushed, your instincts kicking in.

   “Pree, what’s wrong?”

   “I'm alright, Y/N,” she assured, but you weren’t buying it for a second. “I just needed to call to let you know I’m going to be late to our dinner tonight, with Spencer. I had something come up. Can you send him my regards? I’m sorry.”

“What? What dinner? Pree, what’s going on?” You stood up and went for, your coat and shoes.

   “I can’t make it tonight. I’m sorry, Y/N. Send my apologies, please?” She repeated her earlier words, but something in them screamed out at you.

   “I’ll let him know. Thank you for calling ahead to give us the heads up.” You grabbed your keys and left, locking up the apartment behind you. “Are you able to call me later when you get back from running your errands?”

  “I-I’m not sure. I can try.” Your best friend sounded as if she were trying not to cry.

   “It’s okay, Pree. It’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon, I promise you.” You ran down the street to the bus stop and checked the schedule to see if you could make it to Spencer in a timely fashion.

   “Of course.” You could hear Pree swallow. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. I love you.”

   Tears formed and you tried your darnedest not to let them fall. You knew you could keep it together. You had to.

   “I love you, too, Pree. Trust in us.”

   You were hoping for a response, but all you received was the dial tone noise. You took a couple of deep breaths and called Penelope. She could help, she had to. There was something very wrong going on, and all you knew was that Pree needed you. You weren’t going to let her down.

   - - -

   You were nearly a permanent fixture at the BAU, so clearing you at the front desk wasn’t as tedious as it once was. You had called Penelope, and she immediately relayed the message to her team. Morgan had been the one to retrieve you, and he brought a calmness with him. You were still freaking out, but he helped clear your head. He asked you to repeat what you had told Penelope to keep it fresh in your mind, knowing you’d have to tell it to everyone all over again.

   In the bullpen, you sat at Emily’s desk and took some deep breaths as they met in the conference room. You laid your hand on your stomach and tried to ease the stress you were already starting to feel. Sprinting to the bus stop was definitely not under the restrictions your doctor set. The stress from the phone call probably wasn’t helping either.

   You were on the fence about how you felt towards Spencer’s co-workers knowing what was going on with you. They could probably tell that you and your boyfriend were on the rocks but as far as you being pregnant? Only JJ knew and was able to help you get vitamins and the medications you needed.

   The baby was doing somersaults, and all you could do to get through everything was breathe. You forgot to take your prenatal’s and other meds after your doughnut, and you didn’t think to grab them as you sprinted out the door. For still being in your first trimester, the kid sure was active.

   “Calm down, Baby.” You whispered to the air as you sneakily smoothed your palm over your shirt. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

   “Did you just call yourself a baby?” Morgan asked from behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

   You had placed your hand over your heart and took a deep breath. “No. Wait, what? No, I was just talking.”

   His response was an eyebrow raise and no words.

   You tried to deflect and move on. “What’s happening? Did you guys find her? Did you find Pree?”

   “We tried to find her via GPS, but her phone isn’t on. You said she called from her personal cell, so it probably got ditched somewhere.” Your friend wrung his hands together. “There is a possibility that someone took her, but we can’t be sure. Can you come into the room? Just to see if we can figure out where she might be?

   You nodded and stood up, your vision blurring. Derek grabbed your shoulder and helped ground you.    

   “Whoa, Y/N. You okay?”

   “Yeah.” Your left hand had pressed to your temple. “I didn’t eat well today. I’ve been showing signs of low blood sugar lately. It’s easy to forget sometimes.”

   “It’s all that ice cream. Haagen-Dazs has come back to bite you.” He tried to joke with you, lighten the mood.

   You gave a soft smile and turned to make your way to the conference room, but Morgan stopped you by grabbing your shoulder again.

   “You sure you’re okay? Is there anything you want to talk about without others listening in? I’m told I can be a good sounding board.”

   You stretched onto your toes and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. “Has anyone told you how wonderful of a friend you are? But no, I’m just fine. Thank you.”

   Derek led you into the conference room where the rest of the team had been waiting. You spotted Penelope with her nose in her laptop. You could tell that she was trying to hold in her emotions. It was her cousin, after all, her favorite one. Of course, she’d be the most affected.

   You then noticed Emily and JJ  a few seats over, discussing something in an open file. They had serious expressions on their faces. The untouched cups of coffee told you that the women had been concentrating on the current situation.

   All the way at the other end of the table were Hotch and Rossi. Hotch’s eyes kept rotating between the papers on the desk and the people in the room. Rossi’s eyes were observing what was going on around them. The two were exchanging words every so often. No doubt they were watching you even if your eyes didn’t meet.

   “If we could get started?” Penelope’s voice rang from the front of the room to get everyone’s attention. “I’m sure we’re all aware of what’s happening. But I’ll recap just in case.

   “A few hours ago, Pree VanDalso- the best cousin a person could have- called our dear friend Y/N. She, Pree, had spoken suspiciously about false-laid plans and apologizing for having to miss them. She kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ and other things along the line of ‘let Spencer know.' We think that those were her code words to let us know she’s in trouble.

   “Y/N said Pree sounded calm but could tell there was some form of tension in her voice. I tapped into the connection and listened to the conversation multiple times. I can confirm that there was DEFINITELY something in between her words that she was trying to get across.

   “After hanging up with Pree, Y/N proceeded to call me and inform me of what had happened. She was brought here to be in the loop as a VIP character witness and help keep us informed if she’s contacted again. And now we’re all up to date and I can breathe.”

   “Whoa, there Mama. Make sure you’re getting oxygen to that beautiful brain of yours in-between sentences.”

   Penelope nodded to her best friend as she sat in her seat and looked all sorts of lost and devastated. Her eyes were red and full of worry. Her purple painted bottom lip was worried between her teeth. No one else at the round table was as visibly shaken as your closest friend’s favorite cousin.

   Hotch’s eyes had glanced over one of the papers in the folder in front of him before he spoke up. “Did she have any plans today? Outside of the ordinary?”

   You shook your head. “No, not that I’m aware of. After she had dropped off her kids off at daycare, she was headed to the elementary school she works at and then back to the daycare. Her usual middle of the week plan. Nothing too extravagant.”

   “She didn’t have any plans to visit you this morning? Or today at all?” Emily asked with a pen at the ready to take notes.

   “No. Not today. She’d already been over almost everyday since I got out of the hospital.”

   Rossi raised his eyebrows. “Wow. She’s a very doting friend.”

      “She was worried. Penelope would have done the same for any of you. It must run in the family.”

   “Especially given the circumstances.” JJ had made the comment under her breath, but you knew that if you could hear it, so could everyone else.

   The statement caught everyone’s attention, and all eyes were brought back to you. Hotch’s eyes stayed on you as he gave out orders to the team and the members of the room dispersed to, their respective tasks. You got up to leave the room too but got stopped by the unit chief’s hands on your arm.

   “If I don’t have the whole story, I can’t help to my fullest extent. Is there anything you ant to share with me before we get too far into this investigation? Whatever you say won’t leave this room. It’ll stay with me, I promise.”

   You mulled it over in your head and took a deep breath. “I haven’t been entirely honest with Spencer lately. I’m trying to be, to find the best time to tell him what’s going on in the background but I can’t seem to find the right words or the right time.”

   “And JJ knows what’s going on?”

   You nod without looking him in the eye. “Yeah, she uh...I let something slip and she caught on. She’s been great, not saying anything but then just a few minutes ago...I guess it’s too heavy for her to hold in, too. I don’t blame her.”

   A look of great concern crossed his features. “Is it something bad? Should we be worried? If you need help with anything-”

   “OH! No. No, everything’s okay. No one’s in danger or anything. It’s not life threatening. It’s...it’s big and important but...depending on how he takes it...it’ll be okay. I hope.” You added the last part under your breath.

   “If that’s the case, you need to tell him. And soon, if I’m correct? You won’t be able to cover it for too much longer.”

   “Is everyone here a psychic?!? I need to meet people in this city that aren’t profilers or expert techies.”

   “Your best friend is an elementary school teacher.”

   “Teachers are underpaid and overlooked. Sometimes I wonder who has the harder job here.” You joked with your boyfriend’s boss, and it helped drain some of the tension of the moment.

- - -

   They ended up finding Pree almost 6 hours after she called you. Someone had spotted suspicious activity in a very tight alleyway in downtown D.C. between a woman and a man that was hauling her from a car into a warehouse. The woman was unconscious and seemed bloody from where the silent observer stood on the sidewalk.

   You were in tears during the quiet trip to the hospital that the EMT’s had taken your friend to. Derek was driving and you rode passenger. You told them you’d take the backseat, but Emily and JJ insisted that you sit up front. It had to do with something about not being able to breathe better when not being surrounded by seats and having a better visual of what was going on.

   When you caught up with the rest of the team, you were told that Pree was in surgery. She was concussed and somehow had damage done to her arm, broken the bone possibly while being dragged out of the car. You weren’t exactly sure. She wouldn’t be able to say anything until was brought into recovery. You’d have to wait it out.

   You had been able to call Alex, her boyfriend, and let her know she was safe and sound. He said that after he picked up the kids from daycare, he’d be by the hospital. You offered to stay and wait for him to give him time alone with Pree sans kids but he turned down the offer. You didn’t fight it, he was distraught, and you thought better than to argue with him.

   Penelope stayed by your side (or was it the other way around?) while you were at the hospital and after everyone had realized Pree would be OK, the two of you hugged, and there were some tears shed out of relief. The techie pulled back from the hug and gave you one of her sweetest smiles.

   “Thank you.”

   You were confused. “What for?”

   “The way you handled the whole thing. When you answered the call and reassured her, playing along. Getting a hold of us and keeping it together the entire time. I could see how distraught you were, a blind bat could, but you kept it together and did a marvelous job. Thank you for making sure my cousin made it back alive. he’s like a little sister to me. I don’t know what I would have done.”

   You pulled Penelope back in for a hug, and this time she cried alone while you held her tight. “Pree’s my best friend. I would give my life for hers.”

   Penelope’s reply was a whisper, and you almost couldn’t hear it. “Except it’s just not your life anymore. You got someone else depending on you now.”

   You pulled back abruptly and threw your hands into the air. “Does everyone know?!? Is there no honor in keeping secrets?”

   Half the team chuckled while the other half looked at you to Spencer repeatedly. Spencer himself seemed lost like it was a math problem he couldn’t figure out. He was biting his lip and wiggling his nose and had to force yourself not to stare. He was still your boyfriend, but you hadn’t even held his hand since you left the hospital.

   “Am I missing something?” Derek’s hands were on his hips, and he seemed frustrated.

   “Oh, Sweetie, I forgot to mention earlier because of- well, you know- a package in your name came to my place by mistake? It’s a big box. It feels expensive.”

   “Did you open my mail, Penelope??”

   “No. Just when I lifted the box, my Spidey senses went off. So? Am I right? Is it expensive? Is it shoes? What is it?” The woman looked like a child waiting for the prize inside her Wonderball.

   “Again,” You linked your arm through hers, and you all began to make your way towards the exit of the hospital. “Is there no decency in having a secret?”

   “You’re right.”

   Your head whipped to face JJ and surprise graced your features. “I am? I thought you weren’t happy with my decision.”

   “Oh, I’m not. Make no mistake. But it’s not my business. It’s not any of our business, really. It’s your secret. You’ll let those that need to know in on it when you feel you’re ready. I’m sorry about earlier.”

   “You know, this is probably not the best discussion to have in front of You Know Who.” Penelope stage whispered.

   You rolled your eyes in good nature, and when you got outside, you unlinked your arms with Penelope and faced Spencer.

   “Hey. Amazing Boyfriend that I owe an explanation to about my behavior lately, do you want to come over for dinner.” You hoped you sounded sassier than you felt because you were honestly terrified.

   The genius ruffled his eyebrows and didn’t seem too sure. You both had been distant lately. Ever since you blatantly lied to him about something bothering you in the weeks leading up to your accident, he tried keeping you at an arm's length. You just hoped he wasn’t rethinking your entire relationship. You don’t know what you would do if he decided to end things.

   “I will tell you everything. I’ll explain every little glitch in my behavior towards you lately.”

   The team started to disperse from where you stood to give the two of you some privacy. Hotch caught your eye before he could wander too far away and he gave you a reassuring smile. His smiles were rare, so you took it and let it give you confidence and relief. You had the approval of someone, and that’s all you wanted sometimes.

   “Will it fix it? Fix us?”

   “I really hope so. I can’t think about the opposite, what that would do to me. I’d understand though if it didn’t fix anything. I know my actions aren’t helping anyone. I need to take responsibility for my actions and do it right.”

   “Why do I feel like this is bigger than I think it is?”

   You tucked some hair behind your ear and looked away to fight the tears threatening to fall. “It very well could be.”

   “Are you OK?”

   You gave a smirk. “Call me when you get off of work? I’ll be at my apartment after I grab my mail from Penelope’s.”

   Spencer nodded, and the two, of you made your way to the Suburbans to go back to the B.A.U. You got into the one that you arrived in and buckled your seat belt. You prayed the entire way back to your boyfriend’s work. You hadn’t lied to Spencer. You’d understand if he wanted nothing to do with you after how you reacted to finding out you were expecting. You hoped he’d stay in the baby’s life, though. You knew he’d be a good dad.

   After going to Penelope’s and using your spare key to get in, you found your package and left right after. If your talk didn’t go over well, you hoped to win Spencer over with the contents of the package. You were sure he’d like it. Hopefully. He had to, right? If he left you, especially while still wrapping your mind around becoming a mom, you didn’t know what you would do.

   “Please,” you pleaded to God. “Please don’t let Spencer hate me.”

   Things had to be okay in the end. Who knew just three short years in your new city would lead to such a soap opera life?

[rachelclewis]

Bad Trip

Not that long ago, I often traveled for work. This was when I was single and lived alone. Traveling for work became routine after a while. I would even say I got to the point where I enjoyed traveling solo. I remember one conference in particular. It was in San Diego and I didn’t know anyone at the conference or in the city, but I explored and found fun things to do. I even blew off the “networking” session of the conference because I saw a sandwich board advertising, “One Night Only: John Cleese Live!” It was a great choice; he was hilarious! I just wish I would have bought one of the t-shirts that read, “I saw John Cleese perform RIGHT before he DIED!” (This was in 2008, by the way. He is still alive.)

This was also the trip where I accidentally ordered veal because I thought “scallopini” meant “little scallops.” I felt terrible once I realized what I had done, but it wasn’t like I could give the little guy CPR once it was on the plate. So I ate it. (And goddamn it was delicious.) Then there was the supposedly haunted restaurant in Old Town with the margaritas the size of bird baths. Well, the first one is a bird bath. The second one threatens to become a facial. But I wasn’t driving, and I was without a companion to judge me, so I enjoyed both, completely.

As I said, this was 2008, over ten years ago. Many things have changed. I’m in a relationship. I have a stepson.  I had Wensley in 2008, but now he is an older dog with some health issues. (He will be fourteen years old this month.) That’s a lot of comfort and responsibility to leave behind, especially when I haven’t traveled on my own in years. It didn’t actually occur to me that I hadn’t exercised those muscles and therefore had lost all the tone until I went to Austin by myself last weekend.

I made a New Year’s goal to do more with my blog and I searched for learning opportunities. I found an online community of blogging women with a conference coming up in Texas and I bought tickets and booked a flight. I was anxious about the trip, but I have acute anxiety. I am anxious about everything.

The morning of the flight, Ethan (who is six) told me he was worried that I might get lonely on my trip and asked if I would like to take one of his soft friends (his word for stuffed animals) with me. It was such a sweet gesture and it touched me. I even took out an extra top to make space for the soft friend he selected, which was a black bear featuring a radio collar because it was purchased at a national park where bears are tagged and studied.

As soon as I buckled in for the flight, my anxiety went to work. “Why are you doing this?” It asked. “Can you even afford it? What if something happens to your extremely old dog while you are gone and you aren’t there to comfort him?” Tears welled up behind my eyes. I fought them back, but they pretty much stayed right there for the rest of the weekend.

I want to be completely clear: the conference was great and the ladies I met were lovely. I might even go again next year. That said, it was a hard experience for me. From the moment I entered the first event (a cocktail party on Friday evening), women were reaching out to me to help me feel welcome. Obviously they picked up my introvert vibe and reacted by inviting me into their conversations, metaphorically putting an arm around my shoulders and saying, “You’re good; We got you!” But I was not prepared for what a room full of female Texas bloggers (who refer to themselves as “influencers” and “momtrepreneurs” would be like.

These women are poised and glamourous. They are fit and fashionable, and they wear lipstick and high heels on Saturdays. Where I come from, Saturdays are for skiing, or biking, or hiking (depending on the weather). There are definitely no high heels. There may be tinted chapstick, but it has to be SPF 15 or higher.

They sell their makeup and outfits and home décor ideas on their feeds and they make serious money doing it. They have class and style and they will help you have it, too. All you have to do is click and add to cart. And that is exactly what thousands of people on Instagram do, every day. You have to see the photos of their picture perfect lives to understand it. I felt like a fraud sitting with them and taking notes on what makes the perfect Pinterest board.

I know what you are thinking. “Oh, Rachel, we all feel that way! I’m sure half of them thought you were the one that had it together! It’s just a bad case of imposter syndrome, that’s all!” No. Wrong. I can prove it. Here is a photo I found on the photographer’s site (@mandiroachphotography) in a collection of pics from the event.

In case I have to explain, I’m the one in the center dealing with, I don’t know, an entire chicken wing or similar stuck in my back teeth. If you could zoom out you would see one hundred more women just like the ones surrounding me here. Lovely, lovely, stinkin’ lovely. Not one giving themselves dental work.

Feeling out of place just made me feel even more homesick. And then, the last day of the conference, I made the mistake of checking my email and discovering that the coverage I had set up for my day off to go to the conference hadn’t been adequate. I realized that I was in some trouble with my boss and that sent me into minor crisis mode. I felt like the whole trip had been a mistake. This was just before the smaller focus group session where we discussed questions and takeaways. I had been conspicuously quiet, so the group leader asked me to share my thoughts.

“I’m totally overwhelmed,” I blubbered, the tears that I had been holding back breaking forth in a torrent and hitting the floor. “I don’t even know what an ‘instagram story’ is!”

Again, the lovely ladies enveloped me and told me I was okay. They reminded me I just needed to get one actionable thing out of the conference and hold on to that. And someone else told me something that did stick with me. It isn’t about followers, it is about authenticity. What is your “why?” That is, why do you blog? What are you bringing to this space?

So I went to the loo and washed my face. Then I went back to the table and sat down with my notebook to draft a mission statement. I didn’t figure out exactly what it was, but I realized that I do have a “why” (aside from needing a place to write and hoping someone who likes my sense of humor will read it). I want to live an examined life. Writing helps me do that examining. My hope is that sharing what I unearth will help others, too.

Whew! I got my one thing, just before the conference ended! But then it was over, and all the ladies headed off for home. I, however, headed back to my hotel. I wasn’t able to find a non-red-eye flight, and my red-eye days are behind me.

Or so I said when I bought my tickets. My hotel had a spa and a gym, surely I would be able to find something to do that last evening before catching a reasonable morning flight, right? But then I was in the hotel with sixteen hours to kill, completely stressed out about work and needing a cuddle from each of my boys, human and canine alike. As good as it would have been for me, I wasn’t going to go to the gym.

I went down to the hotel bar and started texting a friend to ask her how she got 10k Instagram followers, but we ended up talking about the conference instead. The tears came back and I couldn’t make them stop, not even when my amazing mac and cheese with brisket tips arrived. My poor waitress probably thought my best friend died. I snapped a tearful selfie and sent it to my friend, but I’m sharing it here also in the spirit of authenticity.

And the mac and cheese… (that’s cornbread and bacon butter in the background)

Throughout the trip, I kept an eye out for good spots to pose Black Bear so that I could send photos home to Ethan. I looked through them back in my hotel room and realized that, based on the photos, the bear was on the trip that I hoped to have. It seemed significant and apropos of the conference and the idea of sharing an authentic experience, versus and idea of perfection. I can’t do what those other ladies do. I am not here to tell you how to have the perfect vacation because I don’t know how to do that. I’m here to tell stories about why I spent last Sunday ugly crying in public places. I’m here to talk about how living with acute anxiety is hard. I have learned that it is possible to live a full life with anxiety, but you have to work at it. It won’t always go according to plan, and sometimes you have to force yourself to get out and do it. Luckily, there are also stuffed bears to cuddle while waiting for planes, and there is love and kindness waiting to reassure us on both ends of the trip.

[gracewithducks]

The Beginning of Wisdom (Proverbs 1:1-7)

There is something about this time of year that always pushes me to read. Maybe it started when I was a kid, and I enjoyed the freedom of summertime and getting to decide for myself what I was going to read next. That freedom was especially sweet through years of college and graduate school; there is something wondrous about sitting in the shade, smelling fresh cut grass, listening to birds singing, and reading a book that you’ve been longing for the time to enjoy.

 Then again, maybe it has something to do with the fact that every year around this time, I go to Annual Conference, and find myself drawn over and over again to the Cokesbury room, to the displays full of all the newest and best books a pastor could ever hope to read.

 For whatever reason, this time of year, almost every year, I find myself coming back to books, back to the joy of learning, of going deeper, of choosing a direction and diving in with both feet.

 This year, as I spent some time in the local library’s room full of new arrivals, I was surprised that I kept picking up – not novels, but books with titles like “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” and “Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics” and “The Happiness Project” and “Never Get Angry Again.”

 This is the year, I guess, of longing for something more. This is the year when I’m reading and doing everything I can to finally get my life and my house in order: to let go of the extra stuff, to take more deep breaths, to sing more and yell less and find ways to not just tell my children but teach them what it means to be content.

 This is the summer when our family is looking for a better life. Don’t get me wrong: our life is amazing, full of fun and noise and busy in all the right ways… but we are also looking to do better, to do more. We are donating bags and boxes full of toys we don’t use, books we don’t read, clothes we don’t wear, “stuff” that we really don’t need. We are taking time to sit and listen, and to simply “be” together. We are talking about what it is that matters most – from belly breathing to social justice issues – and trying to figure out how, as individuals and as a family, we can live the kind of lives we really are longing and yearning to lead.

 We’re not there yet. But we’re working on it. And I love the idea that a few big choices – and a lot of little ones – can completely change the course of your life… or at least tweak the course of your day, and when you put a whole bunch of days together, you make a lifetime.

 The question – “How do I live a good life?” – it’s not a new one. And in fact, there is a whole biblical tradition dedicated to that question: we call them the books of wisdom.

 This summer, I want to invite you along on this journey, as we delve into the stuff of living and try to figure out what life is really all about. We will be spending time with the wisdom books of the bible, the three books that try to address what kind of a world we live in, and how best to live in this world – how to live a good life.

 We start with Proverbs, who is kind of like your really observant and clever friend, the one who has a witty saying or Facebook meme for just about any situation. Proverbs basically says, do what’s right, and you’ll live a good life. Later in the summer, we’ll hear from Ecclesiastes, the skeptic, the jaded and cynical teacher who is convinced – to borrow from a Disney song – “there must be more than this provincial life.” And we will also hear from Job, Job who’s done everything right and still lost it all, and we’ll find out what happens when all our answers fall apart.

 But today we start with Proverbs. You might imagine Proverbs as ancient Pinterest: a place where wise and encouraging and deep thoughts – as well as some very practical ones – are gathered together, so that you can find them later when you need them again. Proverbs gives us such pearls as “Do not plan harm against your neighbor, who lives trustingly beside you” and “Put away from you crooked speech and devious talk” and “Whoever walks with the wise become wise, but the companion of fools suffers harm.” Proverbs warns about the power of speech – “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger… A gentle tongue is a tree of life.” Proverbs cautions the power of anger: “Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but one who has a hasty temper exalts folly. A tranquil mind gives life to the flesh…” Proverbs also reflects on the state of the world, observing, “The field of the poor may yield much food, but it is swept away through injustice” and warns “Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but those who are kind to the needy honor him.” Think before you speak, says Proverbs; be humble in all you do, and move through the world with compassion and with care. Be wary of taking or making a loan; do not repay evil with evil; learn the power of silence; be diligent and faithful in your work – and a personal favorite Proverb around our household: “Whoever blesses a neighbor with a loud voice, rising early in the morning, will be counted as a cursing.” Which is to say, it’s not just what you say – but how and when you say it – that matters, too.

 It’s clear from even a quick overview of Proverbs that “wisdom” covers a variety of topics: how to raise children, how to do business, what kind of friends to trust, when to keep silence and when to speak, when to stand firm and when to bend. Some of the advice is surprisingly banal: “If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, or else, having too much, you will [throw it back up].” Some grows deeper the more we think about it: “Better is open rebuke than hidden love.” (Mull that one over for a while.) But all of it tries to answer: what does a person need to know, what does a person need to do, in order to live well, and more than that, in order to live a life that is good.

 There was a time when I thought “being wise” meant, more or less, “being old.” And there’s some truth in that – that with maturity, if not with age, with maturity, as we see and observe more and more of the world, we gain experience and are able to move more wisely through it. At least, we hope so. But it’s also true that “wisdom” often gets confused with “knowledge,” and it’s worth saying that being smart and being wise are not always the same thing. When we are young, we think we know it all – but what I’ve learned, at least, is that the more I learn, the more I realize I still don’t know. I remember being warned, when I took my first semester of psychology, that a little bit of psychology is dangerous – kind of like looking up your symptoms on Web-MD. You start to think you’ve got yourself, and everybody else, figured out – when it turns out that people are a lot more complicated than a couple of months of psych can explain. A little knowledge, untampered with humility and experience, can get you in a lot of trouble. The risk of knowledge is pride, but wisdom requires humility, an honest awareness of your own limitations, and a determination to do the best you can, even knowing that you may, in fact, be wrong.

 Today, at the very beginning of Proverbs, we read these words: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

 And this is a common theme throughout Proverbs: you don’t want to be the fool, the one who thinks she knows it all, the one who thinks he’s got it all figured out, the one who shortsightedly or greedily or selfishly sacrifices their own future, or their neighbor’s well-being, for the sake of quick and easy gain. Only a fool thinks there is nothing left to learn; only a fool closes their ears to the help or teaching that another offers, only a fool depends on their own understanding and forges forward alone.

 I don’t know if you remember the story of Adam and Eve? Adam and Eve are the archetypes for all humanity; they are created in God’s image, God’s own breath of life flows in their lungs, and they are placed in a place where their needs are met, where they are surrounded by beauty, where they enjoy open and honest and trusting relationships with one another, and with all other created things, and with the God who made them.

 But in that beautiful place, there was a temptation – a tree, which is simply called in the story the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And we all know that they give into temptation, that Eve and Adam eat the fruit of the tree, and in the process, they make a mess out of everything.

 When I was growing up, I was always taught that the first sin, the sin that started all the other sins, the one that Adam and Eve did that messed up everything for everybody until the end of time – was the sin of disobedience. God gave them a rule, and they broke it. And they had to be punished for it.

 Not a bad lesson to teach kids, really, at least not if we want to them to learn to be obedient and not to break the rules.

 But as I’ve grown, as I’ve lived with this parable for decades now, and reflected on what really happened in the garden, I’m not convinced that the big sin here is disobedience. After all, throughout the story of faith, and throughout history, God often works through acts of disobedience: through the disobedience of the Egyptian midwives, who refused to kill the Hebrew babies at birth; through the disobedience of Christians who hid their Jewish neighbors and led the resistance during the Second World War; through the disobedience of Civil Rights protesters, who stopped traffic and sat at lunch counters and swam in pools and broke the rules; through the disobedience of churches and pastors who are committed to the idea that all means all no matter what the rules say. Laws and rules are important, but as Jesus said so often about the Sabbath, the rules are meant to give us life, not to take it away.

 So when it comes to Adam and Eve – yes, they broke the rules, but sometimes God calls us to do just that; Adam and Eve broke the rules, but I’m far more interested in why.

 Back when Eve is being tempted by the serpent, do you remember what the serpent says? “That tree won’t hurt you; look at how delicious it is. The only reason God said not to eat from it is because God knows that, if you do, you’ll become like a god yourself. You’ll be able to make your own decisions; you’ll be able to go your own way, and you won’t need God anymore.”

 The temptation is knowledge for the sake of power. And because Eve wants to be able to make her own decisions, because Adam wants to be able to figure things out for himself, they bite. And in their pride, in their short-sightedness, in their grasping for power and for control – that is how they fall.

 Whenever we are looking for wisdom in order to gain power, or control; when we are looking for wisdom in isolation from God, in isolation from the community around us – we end up with nothing but trouble. When we’re looking for control, we quickly realize just how much is beyond our grasp, and always will be.

 Did you ever notice what happens after Eve and Adam’s eyes are opened? They eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil – but it sure seems like all they’re able to see is the bad all around them. They’re still in Eden, literally, in the Garden of Eden, in the most peaceful and beautiful place in all creation – and they don’t see any of that. They see guilt. They see danger. They see fear.

 All they see is the bad. Even things that aren’t necessarily bad – like, “Oh, we’re both naked!” – some might call that a good thing, but instead, these two can see nothing but bad all around.

 There is a difference between grasping for knowledge and searching for wisdom. We think that knowledge is something we can own, something we can use and control and manipulate, and we think that it will give us power – and sometimes, it does. But wisdom comes in a different way: wisdom comes in knowing just how much we don’t know, in humbly continuing to search for better answers, and realizing sometimes there aren’t any answers to be found. It comes in looking for not just for the bad but for the good, when we come face to face with the naked truth – if you’ll pardon the expression.  

 Like the familiar prayer says, “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I would argue that all of it – the serenity, the courage, the discernment – from a biblical perspective, it’s all wisdom. And learning that wisdom takes a lifetime.

 “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” That expression – the fear of the Lord – is one that pops up several times in the scriptures, and it’s long been debated what exactly it means. It’s clear that this “fear” goes beyond trembling in terror, but instead encapsulates all the emotion that we find when we stand before God as we really are: humbly, honestly, with awe, honor, respect, gratitude, and yes, love: love that comes from realizing that, even as small and imperfect as we are, God still cares about our little lives, and our little lives have the power to shape the course of history.

 Wisdom – right living – goes so much deeper than learning the rules and living by them. And being wise certainly isn’t the same as being shrewd and cunning, finding loopholes in the rules that allow you to advance your own cause while ignoring others. As we will see in the coming weeks, the good life has a lot to do with compassion and justice, with caring for our neighbors, with siding with the powerless rather than the powerful.

 It’s a big world, and there’s a lot we don’t understand, a lot we can’t control. But there is also a lot that we can do, and we are all responsible to change the things we can. Somebody argued that week that the bible tells us we have to follow the rules – but I think it’s worth looking at what God’s rules, in the Bible, actually have to say. And there are a lot of rules – but the overarching theme of those rules has to do with justice and compassion, with doing the things that lead to life not just for a few people but for the whole community: welcoming the stranger, protecting children, caring for the powerless, and treating the foreigner in our land like one of our own. Be wary of those who hide behind the bible and twist it to their own ends: over history, the bible has been used to support slavery; the bible has been used to subjugate women, to perpetuate racism, to back up genocides, to justify war – and also to justify sitting silent and idle while good people suffer, helping the rich line their pockets while God’s people cry out again and again for justice.

 Wisdom, and right living, always goes beyond ourselves, and our own interests. We’ll get more into that in the weeks to come. But for today, I hope we remember where wisdom begins: wisdom begins with humility, it begins when we stand before God, and realize who we really are – just how small, and just how powerful, we can be.

 Wisdom begins when we realize that our days are limited, but our lives still matter. Wisdom begins when we acknowledge that our lives are shaped by forces beyond our control… and wisdom begins when we take accountability for the things that are within our grasp, knowing that we might get it wrong, knowing that we will get a lot of it wrong… but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

 We all have more to learn, no matter how young or old we are. We all have room to grow.

 So I invite us to make this a “summer of wisdom” – a season when we commit ourselves to growing in insight, in righteousness and justice, in equity and in truth. May we be courageous. May we be humble. May we be faithful. And may we grow in wisdom, for our own sake and for the sake of the world.

 Teach us, Lord, to see ourselves as you see us: with lives that are fleeting as a breeze and powerful as a hurricane. Teach us compassion; teach us to seek justice. Teach us to extend mercy to ourselves and to others. Teach us when to keep silent, and when to speak. And may we keep learning, keep growing, in wisdom and in grace, all the days of our lives. Amen.