#you guys are about to watch me do some hopefully grade-a winging it cause man idk what the fuck is going on

[caesurah-tblr]

Me: I wrote lore with little details known about it in my fic because it sounded cool!!

…

Me: I wrote lore with little details known about it. Oh fuck.

[thenextchapter22]

PART SIX!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: You are back at the HOL...

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, WIP

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: It’s been a month and my hiatus is over now, so please enjoy this next part!! Love you guys so much ~~

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

_+_

Being back in the House of Lamentation was a little strange. After a few extra days at Diavolo’s in that admittedly larger bedroom than yours, Lucifer had taken you back home. He bid you a quick farewell, a single hug and hair ruffling with his smirk, before he said he had duties to attend to. And things seemed back to normal with that. It was a little anticlimactic but…

Home. This was your home. Lord Diavolo gave you, an Angel (and were you still technically one, without your halo? Only wings and some leftover magic?), permission to live in the Devildom. A place for Demons, not… you. He called you ‘family’. Even Barbatos, when leaving the Castle, had smiled at you and given you a happy goodbye and an invite to tea whenever you’d like.

“Your company is always welcome,” the demon butler had said.

You stood just outside your doorway, as if turning the handle would transport you somewhere else. Maybe this was a dream. It was all too surreal to have actually happened.

Once you were inside, barely two steps in the bedroom, an invisible weight lifted off you. This was where you spent your nights, either totally alone and at peace, or with your housemates to keep you company. Studying with Satan or reading a novel and talking about the characters while sitting in your bed, or watching DevilTube with Mammon and laughing at the rom-coms because he was a sucker for those. If Asmo came back late from a party or if he was lonely and needing cuddles, you both would stay up late gossiping about everyone, and you would hear funny stories about Solomon or the brothers. When Levi would come out of his cave, and bring his handheld games, and you would battle each other for hours (you usually won only a few times but it was still fun). Eating midnight snacks you and Beel snuck out from the kitchen, waking up with crumbs in your bed and a different demon boy in your bed, Belphie, who was cuddling you and mumbling in his sleep, warm and soft, like the twins had traded you off.

The only demon brother who never came in your room was Lucifer… That man was always in his own bedroom, up late doing paperwork or wandering around doing things for Diavolo. He overworked himself constantly.

You smiled, recalling the first time you had ventured in his bedroom at night to give him some coffee and poison apples to snack on. He was grateful for it, and he smiled with crinkles in his eyes and warmth radiating from him, and he thanked you. It was one of your best moments here, with him. A small one, but still perfect.

“You’re back!!”

You jumped in surprise as your legs were attacked and you very nearly fell over. Your train of thought vanished immediately. Looking down, then seeing the mop of blonde, you realized it was just Luke.

He was a sweet Angel, still learning and growing, and he had a heart of gold. Sometimes he was a bit sensitive to the demon brothers teasing (mostly Mammon’s). It was funny to watch him get all flustered and red-faced when that happened and insult back to the best he of his abilities.

“Hi Luke,” you greeted, returning his hug. “I’m happy to see you.”

He grinned up at you, head just reaching mid-level, his chin resting on your abdomen. “I missed you. Are you feeling better? Simeon told me everything and I’m so excited to hear you’re an Angel just like us! You have to tell me all about when you lived in the Celestial Realm, please?”

Simeon chuckled from behind Luke, tugging him away gently. “Let’s leave her alone while she gets settled back in, okay? We can visit another time. We came to see Lucifer.”

Luke pouted, but sighed and nodded. He took your hand and squeezed it once. “I want to hear all about it, okay?” he asked with determination.

That was Luke, always adamant and cute. You smiled and ruffled his hair, the youngest Angel huffing. “I promise I will, Luke.”

Simeon waved goodbye, shutting the door behind him, and that left you alone in your little room. You fell onto your bed face first and inhaled deeply, rolling on your side and clutching a pillow to your chest.

Now what would happen? Things seemed to be returning to normal, but would everything?

A knock. “Are you in there Angel girl?” Belphegor’s voice came through the door.

You were a little nervous to see him, but he was the last demon brother you’d thought you’d see first. Seeing as he was usually asleep somewhere.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t only Belphie. It was all of the brothers, minus Lucifer, and they had wide silly smiles on their faces. And then they tackled you in hugs, squeezing you and overwhelming you with their tight holds and back rubs. You just laughed and let them, knowing they probably had been worried about you after all.

“Guys—please, guys stop! I can’t breathe,” you laughed, shoving at the arms and torsos around you. Once you were free, you stepped back and smiled. Seeing all of their happy faces had your insides twisting in joy. “I missed you guys so much, it’s good to see every one of you.”

Mammon spoke first. “Damn right! We’ve been totally freaked out about you. We-well, I-I mean, I haven’t been losing sleep or anything, but they all kept asking Lucifer where you were and when you’re gonna come back. Ch, losers.” His face was flushed when he finished. Why was this white-haired demon so damn cute when he was trying to not care, you would never know the reason.

“I lost no sleep,” Belphie stated.

You chuckled. Typical Belphegor. “Well, I am sorry for worrying everyone…” You frowned, and looked at the floor. There was that inner voice telling you that even if they were all here and hugging you, it was still possible for them to dislike you for lying, hiding this entire time. “But… You don’t… hate me?”

Asmo gasped. “No, dear, we don’t hate you at all! We love you!”

That made you tear up a little bit, and Asmo cooed and hugged you. Mammon grumbled and Asmo gave you one last squeeze then let you go. Your face was a little bit red but only from the embarrassment of nearly crying when being told you were loved.

“How could we hate you? You’re still you,” Beel said.

Satan agreed. “Yes, exactly. Only now you have wings and magic we didn’t know about. You’ll have to show us sometime, I’ve never seen an Angel’s wings in person, only in textbooks. It makes sense why your grades in Celestial History are on par with my own.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well… only up until a certain point…”

Satan chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that is true. I do want to see your wings, but we were told you’re still healing so there’s no rush.”

“Yes, we want to see them too, darling~”

“The Great Mammon should get first look.”

Waving your hands to calm them down, you nodded and agreed. “Okay, I promise I’ll show you eventually. But like Satan said I do have to take it easy for a while.”

You were planning on going for a midnight fly session tonight, though… But that was a secret that you felt comfortable keeping, like a small white lie. Hopefully no one would find out.

There was one demon who hadn’t said a word, in fact he barely hugged you like the others did. Leviathan. He was quietly standing in the doorway, fidgeting on the balls of his feet, probably waiting for his turn to say something but too shy to speak up.

“Levi? Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

He jumped in surprise, but nodded after a moment. His face flushed and he fumbled with his hands, he usually did that when he didn’t have a phone or device in them. “I-I just want to say… Please don’t ever ever EVER leave us again. I don’t know what I’d do without my midnight gaming buddy. And, well, I just—I love you, okay? You’re my Henry and you aren’t allowed to leave like that!” He was flustered when he finished and avoided eye contact with everyone.

The other boys ‘aw’ed and you smiled in happiness. It was incredible to know that no one hated you for hiding this from them.

“I won’t ever leave you, Levi.”

That was a promise you hoped to keep. These 6 demon boys here were family, your own siblings, and you loved them and all of their weird quirks.

“Hm, I want to ask you something,” Beel’s voice rang out.

Oh no, this was it. The dreaded questioning. They would want to know everything, why you left, where you were, why you lied. And you didn’t know if you had to courage to speak up.

“How did we not remember you?”

Oh thank the Heaven’s. Good kind Beel, nothing bad ever seemed to come from him. Shoving the urge to sigh appreciatively out loud because that would cause actual questions that would be difficult to answer, you instead pondered the question. Would it be against Lucifer’s wishes? He never mentioned keeping it a secret from his brothers.

And so, you told them. About Michael and their memories being tampered with. And they were livid. So livid in fact, they all transformed into their demon forms. And your room was filled with infernal magic and wings and tails flickering. It was intense, but you knew it all came from a place of love. Even Satan, who had yet to be born at the time this happened, was upset, his green tail twisting around. In the tiny space, it was a lot.

Holding up your hand, hoping this calmed them down, you spoke softly, “Please relax everyone. I’m okay now. Simeon and Lucifer helped me. No one can hurt me here.”

“And… you’re staying?” Satan asked.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

They all relaxed, and changed back to their ‘human’ forms. You felt that you could breathe again.

The silence was tense, and you swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, someone else did.

Asmo clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Let’s have a movie night! Popcorn, blankets, cuddling. It’ll be so fun! It’s the perfect thing to reconnect.”

Good ole’ Asmo, you would kiss him if you didn’t think it would cause a disaster. “Yeah, let’s do it,” you agreed. “But I pick the movie. We’re watching a scary movie.” You wiggled your fingers, chuckling.

Mammon’s face dropped. “Uh, we—we should watch something else, like an Action movie. A superhero movie, those are awesome!”

“Why, are you gonna cry if we watch a horror film?” Satan teased.

“Yeah, poor Mammon’s gonna wet himself,” Belphie joked.

“He probably already has,” Levi chuckled.

Mammon growled, and reached for them with his hands, probably to strangle them, but you stuck out your hand. “Please, no fighting. We can watch a funny movie then.”

Mammon relaxed. “I didn’t care either way!” he declared.

So your bedroom was transformed into a fort of soft pillows, blankets and sheets. Satan used a spell to make the bed larger for everyone and he TV was enlarged, too. Very handy spellcasting. Beel and Levi went to get snacks and drinks, and everyone else got the room set up with pillows for everybody.

After the movie started, and everyone was situated on the huge bed, it was quiet. Everyone was scattered around with their own pillows and you felt surrounded by warmth. This was exactly what you needed, just some time with them, feeling at peace.

But the comfortable quiet did not last long.

From where Mammon was snuggled beside you, he nudged your arm and said, “So… are you gonna tell us about it?”

You blinked. “About what?”

“Your life with the humans. We want to know everything. What it was like, who you met. Oh, did you meet anyone famous?”

Satan sat up straight. “Yes, did you meet any historical figures?”

Everyone seemed to be listening in instead of watching the film now.

You thought it over, and nodded. “Yeah, a few I guess… they were ordinary people to me at the time, though… Just your fellow human helping out other humans. I tended to keep out of any major conflicts so not to affect too much. I guess just part of what I’d been taught growing up in the Celestial Realm: don’t do anything to change the path humanity will take.”

Mammon nodded. “What was one of your favorite memories?”

Wow, that was a hard question to answer. You even said so. “I lived on Earth for a long time... I have a lot of stuff packed in my head,” you chuckled.

“Aw, c’mon, there’s gotta be somethin’ that sticks out,” Mammon said. “You can’t think of one thing?”

“Oooh, what was your favorite style of outfit? Maybe those pretty dresses from the 18th century?” Asmo asked.

“Anything before the invention of the internet has to be the worst,” Levi commented.

Beel, while chewing on some popcorn, said, “The food is always gonna be good, but when the cheeseburger was created was probably my favorite time in history.”

You chuckled at each of their comments. But you did go through your favorite memories, friends’ long past and different towns flashing through your mind’s eye. Overall they were happy memories but in the end, it was always the same endgame. They died, and you moved on.

You must have made some noise or done something because Asmo made a cooing noise at you. “Oh, sweetie.” He immediately pulled you into his arms, tucking you into his neck to pet your hair. A few tear drops fell but you did sob or cry at all.

There were hands rubbing your back and arms, and you looked up to see the brother’s saddened smiling faces.

“We are here for you,” Satan reassured you, stroking his hand up and down your upper arm. His hand was warm and comforting.

Levi sniffled, and squeezed your hand. “Don’t cry anymore, you don’t need to when we can protect you now.”

Beel reached behind himself, and held out a candy bar towards you. “Hey, do you want some of my chocolate? It’s got small crunchy bits in it. And chocolate makes you feel better.” He smiled, and handed you the candy bar. It had a bite out of it, but the thought was nice.

“Thank you, Beel.”

“And here, take my blanket, you look cold.” Belphie put his small throw blanket over your lower half, making his brothers curse when it buried their own arms or hands.

You smiled up at him. “Thanks, Belphie.”

Asmo made a huffing sound. “Well, I want to play with your hair. Can I braid it, please?”

You giggled. “Go ahead, Asmo.”

You let them pamper you up, while the movie played in the background. Eventually the movie ended and Levi set up a racing game, and you all selected your characters and played together. It was a perfect first day back home.

[megumisbimbo]

- Nine -

megumi fushiguro x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

summary: (y/n) was nothing special. A human being who had no idea that curses walked the same earth they walked. But then they locked eyes with Megumi Fushiguro. Can Fushiguro focus on the task ahead or will he be distracted by the king of curses and his new love interest?

series masterlist

©️ @megumisbimbo — all rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify or translate my work. Reblogs and likes appreciated!

Credit for the main storyline and characters goes to Gege Akutami.

tags: @xreemie @kitkozume @noyakura @vanilnya20 @yuuji-supremacy @tobi—o

if your name is not grey pls check your privacy settings !

the songs are indicated throughout the story at certain points!

songs used:

start a riot - DUCKWRTH and Shaboozey

ilomilo - billie eilish

— start a riot - DUCKWRTH and Shaboozey —

“A special grade? Here?”

Megumi’s eyes are determined and strong, until they meet yours.

“Understood. have you told Maki and Inumaki-senpai?”

You can barely hear Gojo’s response, but by the looks of it, everyone was already aware. Megumi hangs up the phone and pulls himself off of your body.

“(y/n), stay here. There’s a special grade curse and I can’t risk-“

“Let me help!” You say, cutting Megumi off.

“Absolutely not, you’ll get yourself killed if you try and fight a special grade.”

“But Maki said that I was strong and-“

“The answer is no (y/n). That’s final.”

You huff and turn away from him. How dare he act like you were a damsel in distress. You could fight for yourself...even if you’ve only ever held a cursed katana once. Megumi observes your now dejected look. Attempting to relieve some of your sadness, he takes your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and places a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Don’t think I won’t finish what I started.”

Electric shocks pulsate through your body. That was hot.

He races out of the room unaware that you were right behind him, hot on his trail. You follow at a safe distance, you can still see where he’s going but he won’t sense your presence...hopefully. You weren’t going to sit around while Megumi busted his ass again, just to save you. He had a habit of picking the wrong battles. You weren’t planning on actually fighting the so called special grade. You just wanted to keep an eye on Megumi, just in case he bites off more than he can chew.

You peek around the corner Megumi just took and find Nue already ready to fight what looks to be a man. He had stitches on his face, resembling patchwork. He was also holding a finger similar to the one Yuuji ate the day that demon invaded his body. You faintly recall the story of “Sukuna” told to you by Megumi. There’s 20 fingers and the school possessed six of them. Well now five, depending on how many patch guy managed to steal. Maki, Panda and Inumaki have now joined Megumi and they exchange blows with the patchwork man. Each one hitting a little harder. The man doesn’t seem to be affected by their hits.

“Foolish children, you can hit me all you like, but you’ll never touch my soul.”

You run to the cursed tools room Maki took you to before and found the katana you were using. You hastily make your way back and launch yourself at patchwork, hoping that you can be of some kind of help.

“(y/n)!! What are you doing?! I told you to stay in the room!” Megumi scolds.

“Well I’m not going to let you guys do all the work while I sit on my ass waiting to be saved. That’s just not how I work.”

You relentlessly slice at the man, causing him to lose his balance and drop the finger he was holding. Maki dives forward catching it.

“Take that someplace safe, I’ll deal with (y/n)!” Megumi orders. Maki agrees and her, Panda and Inumaki head somewhere safe, wary of any other curses that might be lurking.

Your limbs hurt from the exertion, and your blows become less and less effective.

“Who are you? There’s no curse behind your strikes, so you must be human.” The patchwork asks.

“None of your damn business!” You respond. How could he tell you weren’t a sorcerer? You were using a curse tool. Maybe your strength was lacking. You were obviously not as strong or as skilled as Maki, and patchwork must have noticed.

The feeling of soft wings wrapping around you startle you. You’re suddenly hoisted up into the air and pulled away from patchwork, the katana still in your hand. Nue carries you back to Megumi, who gives you a stern look.

“Get back to my room and let me deal with this until Gojo-sensei gets here.”

— ilomilo - billie eilish —

You obey, not wanting to provoke him any further. Although, you couldn’t lie, you were pretty helpful. If it wasn’t for your sudden onslaught, patchwork would never have dropped the finger. You make it back to the room and sit on your bed, a bit angry at Megumi for underestimating you.

About ten minutes later, the door swings open revealing a bloody and beat up Megumi. His eyes were fiery and full of rage.

“How could you blatantly disobey me?! I specifically told you not to leave this room, and within three minutes of me saying that, there you were swinging a katana at a SPECIAL GRADE!”

“I can fight for myself Megumi! I don’t need you to constantly watch over me like some kind of bodyguard!”

“This isn’t regular high school (y/n) and these aren’t your everyday bullies. They won’t hesitate to kill you. I will never forgive myself if something happens to you.” Megumi’s voice softened as he spoke, a few tears welling up in his onyx eyes.

“I won’t be as careless with you as I was with Itadori.” Tears slowly stream down his bloodied face.

“It’s not your fault that he died Megumi.”

“But I couldn’t help him...I wasn’t strong enough. Please let me be strong for you.”

You walk over to Megumi, who’s face was now buried in the palms of his hands. You pull his hands away and replace them with yours, cupping his cheeks and wiping away the tears with your thumb. You can tell he’s never been this vulnerable before. He wraps his arms around your waist and drops his head on your shoulder, the blood and sweat staining your t-shirt.

“Please...just stay safe...for my sake.”

“Ok. I will.”

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Soulmate Shenanigans

So, lucky me, I found this list of prompts!

Unlucky me, it was for a September event. Surprise, surprise, this is not September

That isn’t going to stop me from doing this, though!

So, without further ado, prompt number one!

Your Soulmate’s name is written on your wrist or palm

Warnings for death mentions galore and drowning, as well as something that isn’t drug use, but if drug use is a triggering topic for you I wouldn’t recommend you read

Not as angsty as these warnings would suggest, but there is still Angst

I don’t know how it got angsty I just work here

World building

The first recorded instance of a palm mark was when Lady Natalia of Venice nearly drowned in a canal

She’d been on her way home from a party alongside her fiance when she “tripped” (the word “tripped” here means “Was pushed by her fiance for financial reasons”) into the river. Her husband-to-be quickly exited the scene, leaving her to be weighed down by her skirts and die.

Angela (forger of swords and mixer of poisons, just happened to be in the neighborhood when she heard a scream and a splash) had other plans. She dove into the water, saving Natalia and cutting her hand in the process.

The two women spent a good deal of time together after that, the scientific Natalia claiming that she only wanted to know why her name was on Angela’s hand.

Some historians claim that the two were platonic soulmates. While this is possible, and platonic soulmates have a long and wonderful history, no one with common sense believes this to be the case

They exchanged love letters that were quite clear that the attraction was a romantic one.

Some historians also claim that there isn’t enough evidence to suggest that they killed the fiance.

Those historians are wrong.

Anyway, in modern days 97% of the population has a palm mark with the name of their soulmate

The tattoo industry has never had so many illegal opportunities

When your soulmate dies, the name doesn’t scar. It doesn’t blister, burn, or black out. All that happens is a thin, impersonal line crossing their name out. Some people don’t notice who they lost for days.

There’s a process to remove palm marks. However, it’s illegal and possibly fatal for the soulmate being removed.

Our Characters

Roman: Roman was confused by the name of his soulmate.

Who names their kid “Janus”?

Am I soulmates with a roman deity? The heck?? SO MANY QUESTIONS AND SO LITTLE ANSWERS

Roman was so excited to have a soulmate. He kept entire journals filled with things he wanted to tell Janus, part diary, part scrapbook, and part love letter. He would doodle hearts around his palm mark.

One night, in April, Roman went to sleep. In the morning, there was a line across his palm.

His soulmate had died, and he hadn’t even seen the line drawn. He broke a little.

Enough said.

Roman took the passion that he’d had for his Janus and channeled it into his acting. If he couldn’t get love, he’d get a fucking Tony Award.

Remus: Remus had been annoyed by his brother’s complaining.

“Oh, boo-hoo, my soulmate has a rare name. That means that as soon as I meet him, I’ll know exactly who he is! Roman, DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE NAMED LOGAN”

Remus was annoyed that his soulmate had the audacity to have a common name. In theory, he could date all of the 18,000 Logans in the country, but does he really have the time?

He and his brother bicker about this for a solid seven years, until the argument abruptly ends. Ever since then, he’s been on his brother’s side in everything he can.

Logan: It made total sense for Logan to not have a soulmate.

His soulmate would have been unlucky, being stuck with a know-it-all like him, at least according to most of the people he knew.

This was a simple solution to the puzzle.

It wasn’t helpful to waste time wishing for a different one.

Janus: Janus had a whole plan for when he met his soulmate.

He wrote it down in 10th grade

Step 1: Wear gloves

Step 2: Find Roman

Step 3: Say something witty

Step 4: Remove gloves, revealing palm

Step 5: This little mystery is over and done with, and hopefully my soulmate isn’t boring

This was how a lot of Janus’s plans would work. Solid ideas, but missing bits and important pieces. This includes his heist plan he scribbled out on a napkin on an April day.

Step 1: Find local con-artists

Step 2: Pretend to be a person with money (which I obviously do not have)

Step 3: Scam them

Step 4: Don’t get murdered on the way out

Step 5: Profit

He pulled off steps 1-3 with ease, but step 4 proved to be a sticking point.

As he escaped via the river, with money in his hands and a “so long, suckers!” on his lips for drama, he thought nothing could go wrong

Fun fact: It’s rather common for con artists to fatally give away their positions by yelling “so long, suckers!”. Just ask Odysseus as he sailed away from the Cyclops.

The con artists shot wildly at his boat, blowing it to pieces. As he went down with the ship, he barely had enough time to think this can’t be happening, and fuck this and I’m going to die at the same age as Philip fucking Hamilton and I really don’t want to go to hell before his lungs filled with water and his heart stopped.

And Janus died.

For a solid two minutes.

Technically, death is when your heart ceases to beat. Even though people have been revived after their hearts have stopped, it is death, and enough to draw a line across a sleeping Roman’s hand.

Janus, however, was saved by an old man, who dragged him out of the river and forced the water out of his lungs. The old man took one look at the teenager and decided that he needed better role models, which is how Patton took Janus under his wing and saved his life in more ways than one.

The Actual Plot

Roman is in a city production of Hamlet. His brother is in the audience, his friend is fixing the lighting, and he’s ready to go.

It’s a pretty good performance, by all accounts, but especially according to Janus.

He’d already been watching the main actor intently, smiling from the mezzanine, but he was even more intrigued when he read the playbill and realized his name was Roman. He could barely pay attention to act five as he planned out the lies he’d tell to get backstage.

Somehow, he didn’t get caught sneaking around, and managed to catch a glimpse of Roman’s hand in a mirror. Janus. He really is his soulmate!

Janus walks over to Roman, says something that isn’t as witty as he would have liked (but not as bad as it could have been), and removes his glove.

Now, he expected his soulmate could have a variety of reactions. He didn’t expect Roman to yell “Not today, ghost!”, throw a prop skull at him, and sprint out of the theater. Janus caught a glimpse of the line through his name.

He was reasonably sure that he wasn’t dead? He could see his reflection in mirrors, he could consume salt, people tended to notice his existence!

Jan didn’t have much time to mull over this, as he was about to be forcibly removed from the greenroom. Logan just wanted to fix the lighting and live his life, but when strangers break into the backstage and upset Roman...

Jan skedaddles as Logan chases him out of the building. The nerd has almost caught the intruder when he runs directly into a man in a green jacket holding a coffee cup full of ketchup

Why did he have a coffee cup full of ketchup?

Remus and Logan bicker as Janus escapes. When Remus realizes Logan’s name, he asks a few questions, but Logan quickly shows his two blank palms, and the matter is settled.

Everything seems over and done with.

Meanwhile, Roman is freaking out. His mind is essentially in a loop of The fuck? The fuck? The actual fuck? He’s completely unsure of what to do. Is he seeing ghosts? Does he only believe he’s seeing ghosts? Is he sane or not?

Remus checks up on his brother at around 3 am, only to find him, exhausted, and writing in his old soulmate journal. Roman tries to explain what just happened, but the narrative told isn’t exactly coherent. All Remus can gather is that

1. His brother thinks that his dead soulmate is alive

2. This is because some guy snuck backstage and told him that he was the dead soulmate in question

3. This was probably the guy Logan was chasing

Remus convinced Roman to go to sleep, and walked out of the apartment with blood on his mind. He was sure that his brother was being manipulated.

This guy might not be dead now, but he would be soon.

Meanwhile, Janus proves that he can, in fact, cross a salt circle, so he must be alive! Right?? He also can’t get a certain actor out of his head, and wonders what his next move should be.

Remus recruits Logan to help him do some investigation in case Shady Liar Dude shows up. They go on several stakeouts together, in equally improbable locations. Maybe the two of them got too far into the secret agent aesthetic. Logan had always wanted to be a detective as a kid.

They fall for each other, and fast

Roman is spiraling, and a chat with Remus has him convinced that he was wrong, and Janus really is dead. He curses himself for believing in the pretty fairy-tale. Yes, because love wins in the end and they all live happily ever after. He has a performance tomorrow.

And it’s really time he got rid of the old scar.

You don’t hang around Remus without knowing where the black market locations are. It’s relatively easy to find the cure for palm marks.

He paces around backstage, holding a journal in one hand and a small bottle in the other. The warning that destroying the palm mark destroys the soulmate causes terror to rise in his throat, even though he knows that Janus is dead and can never read his love letters no matter how many stars he wishes on.

He finally makes his choice when Remus and Logan visit him before the performance. They give him looks of pity. He doesn’t want to be pitied.

According to the label, effects should take place over the next several hours. So, he waits for Janus’s name to disappear from his hand.

Janus managed to hustle someone with orchestra seats for their tickets. Despite not getting off on the right foot with his soulmate, he isn’t going to let him go that easily. And Roman’s brilliant performance that night just reinforces that. If he was good weeks ago, he was a star now. Janus was transfixed.

When the curtain call came, Janus was the first on his feet for a standing ovation. Remus and Logan noticed him, and pushed their way through the applauding audience. Both of them almost hoped that he’d get away again so they could continue spending time together.

Roman notices him. They lock eyes. Janus waves as though to say Hi, I’m here, apologies for the awkwardness of our meet-cute, but coffee? Roman gives him a look of disdain, as if to say I can’t believe I thought you were my soulmate, you con artist. He intends to look away and bask in the applause, but before he can do that, Janus collapeses.

Roman is confused at first, and then it clicks. That’s his soulmate. That’s his Janus.

And he killed him.

Pandemonium breaks out. Roman leaps off the stage, Remus freezes in panicked comprehension, the crowd scatters, and several people try to reach the dying man.

Logan gets there first. His mind scans memories of hours spent in libraries, researching everything there is to know about palm marks. Why didn’t some people have them? How did you lose them? How could you get them back?

He instructs Remus and Roman to help carry Janus to the greenroom.

They race him there, everyone in a state of panic (including Logan, but more importantly he has a job to do). Logan tells Remus to run and get a few basic ingredients, and they wait. Time moves much too fast and much too slow, until he comes back.

Logan works chemical wonders, piecing together Roman’s hand until everything is stabilized.

A vicious scar, the type you’d except if your soulmate was really gone, forms on Roman’s palm, and it will stay there for the rest of his days.

Janus comes back from death’s door for the second time.

After The Drama

Logan and Remus eventually move past the “but I don’t have a soulmate” “and yet I still am in love with you” dithering and go on a date that isn’t for the purpose of stalking a supposed stalker.

They go to the aquarium.

Meanwhile, there’s a lot to work out between Roman and Janus. From “wow, you’re not dead” to “wow, I nearly murdered you”, we don’t have time to unpack all that.

But they do get coffee. And they talk.

Soulmate stuff! I really like soulmate aus, despite not liking to write straight up romance

It’s weird

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

[megamegaturtle]

gorgeous (chapter one)

Spencer Reid x Reader Fic

No Rating

Ao3

Summary: You're early for your first day at work, but the universe is a funny thing where butterfly wings cause hurricanes from a wing’s single flutter. A story about how you and Spencer become friends and one day lovers.

WC: 11K

(First Criminal Minds Fanfic. Here goes nothing!)

Everything has a beginning and an end and yours starts when you pass through security at 8:05 AM. You're early for your first day at work, but the universe is a funny thing where butterfly wings cause hurricanes from a wing’s single flutter. Being early by 25 minutes has that effect as well, events brewing in your future that you won’t see until years later. Your every movement spins with faster velocity, creating a pressurized cyclone wherever you go. Gales under your fingertips as the world goes round and round and round.

Your true beginning started a few years prior, where you luckily got a job working in the administration and payroll department at your regional Census Bureau Office. Who knew that serendipity laced fingers with surveys and data of the American population? Who knew life held on tight as you moved your trajectory to where you are now?

It was a nice pre-beginning, a small start towards a government career you always wanted and maybe you weren't an analyst right then how you dreamed, but payroll paid well and—life in Los Angeles can only be so exciting and—there was a posting in the FBI and—

(You have always been defined by your ambitions, by your zeal, your need to strive and chase after things and be better and life had been so stagnant and—)

You applied, were interviewed three months later, and waited six months and thirteen days to receive your final offer after that. Waiting and waiting and waiting because bureaucracy is slower than glaciers moving in the Arctic. Slower than drip coffee pods when the machine is clogged. Slower—than waiting for your period to start when you are ten years old because your best friend had hers at nine.

(At twelve when it happens, you think maybe it began all too soon. Maybe childhood should have tried a little harder to cling on you.)

And then life springs into action, butterfly wings causing hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbeans and the world is ending as there is an onslaught of terrible news every day and yet—

You get a job in the FBI. In a Bureau people actually know by name. A step closer to prestige and recognition as you sign your name on the dotted line of your new contract. A step closer to an image you’ve always wanted for yourself because you want to be someone important. You want and want and crave to be someone important.

It’s human nature, you’re told, to see that grass is greener on the other side and you try hard to humble your roots, but the sun shines so bright as the future promises good things for those who work hard. And you’re not the kind that gives up, not the kind that goes home if there is work to be done, not the kind who says no to when opportunity knocks.

(Pride will continue to be your biggest folly, a double edged sword that is painfully sharp with a wobbly handle.)

You are a new admin and timekeeper clerk for a bureau built on secrets and hidden information. It's a stepping stone like how going to grad school was a stepping stone, how working for the Census was a stepping stone, how this will be a stepping stone to being an analyst or researcher or—  

(Anything will do. You just. Want to work with information. You want something fast paced. You want something that makes you think. Puzzles. Calculations. People. And you can be cross trained and transfer because once you’re in, you’re in and you just—you just—  

You want to think.)

You wear an outfit you've kept from all your precious new beginnings, wearing a milestone ring on one hand, wearing milestone earrings too. Gifts to yourself for being better than you were yesterday. Jewels to reward yourself because someone has to love you and you love yourself. Sometimes. With therapy. Reminders to yourself that hard work will see you through to as many as tomorrows you’re willing to see.

You wear a plum colored dress with plum colored lipstick. Contour carves out your cheekbones and you angled dark purple blush to make you look striking. You wear winged eyeliner and waterproof mascara that can thankfully hold a curl. You feel powerful, otherworldly as people smile a bit brighter and the several security guards all comment they have never seen a lipstick match a woman's dress so perfectly.

This is your reckoning. A beautiful, colorful storm and no one will ever be ready.

(Butterfly wings flutter against your heart and your stomach and metals that wrap around your finger and pierces through your ears anchor you to this moment, become armor from nerves that start to accumulate at the levys, threatening to flood every quarter of your being.)

But everything comes back to serendipity, to fate working in mysterious ways and metaphorical hurricanes as you wander the halls of Quantico, looking for Human Resources which is tucked away in some odd room by the vending machines the guard told you about because of remodeling and—

You round the corner quickly, happiness and giddiness soaking in your veins as you think of your higher pay grade, a song in your smile. A brilliant tune of glistening silver and persuasive chimes. Earbuds in each ear as you play your favorite song of the moment one more time, the words on your lips and a hum in your heart. Vocal courage, you think, as you sing your most favorite line quietly and maybe too much excitement as you bump into another human being and…

All their files go tumbling to the ground, clashing like thin cymbals and fanning like ocean waves.

The music that rang with every step  fades as reality comes rushing back, your rose tinted glasses cracking into something useless. You blink once, then twice as the concept of manners come back to you, your mortality recognized as you are filled with acute embarrassment. A surprised gasp escapes your lips as you see the mess scattered around a man’s feet. You tear off your earbuds and tuck them back into your purse, music still blaring from the tiny speakers.

Mindful of your dress, you hurriedly get to your knees and help the man pick up the files you rudely knocked away from his person.

Papers are everywhere as you collect them, trying to be as neat as you can. Without looking at him, you say, “I am so, so, so sorry. I—ah, today is my first day and I am a bit excited…” you babble. “I just—you know, new career and ah—”

(Your pride is a shaky thing, battle armor useless once you interact with another human being and you’re reminded that purple lipstick can’t erase social fumbles.)

He laughs, the first sound you hear him make. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for helping me pick these all up.”

Your bangs cover your eyes as you grab a page tucked under a bench. “Of course. I hate it when people just like…walk away or something. Biggest pet peeve ever.”

He hums in agreement.

You two work for a few more moments gathering the fallen files, once you have a generous stack in your hands you look up finally, stunned a little at a smiling handsome face. Long curly hair and hazel eyes greet you as pleasant warmth spreads into your own girn.

(Oh, your heart was not ready. Not ready at all for someone so cute this before you had a second cup of coffee.)

You check your watch and see it’s about 8:20 AM, panic brushing your insides again as you quietly squawk about the time. You hurriedly stand up as he does the same, noting with abject humor that he towers over your extremely small frame.

(He grins a little unexpectedly wider when he realizes you’re so tiny even in heels.)

You extend the stack in the space between you and help him gather it into his arms. You adjust the strap of your purse, time ticking in your ears.“I’m sorry about bumping into you again. Hopefully there’ll be no more collisions today. ”

He nods, looking at you a little brighter. “Ah, yeah. That might be good.”

You smile and wave goodbye at him, glancing down at your watch once more. “Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a great day, Mystery File Guy. I gotta run and try not to be late for paperwork. Whoo!”

He fixes the papers to rest more comfortable in his arms, bidding you a feeble wave. “Good luck on your first day.”

“Thanks,” you beam, happiness fluttering in your being.

As pride will always be your folly, honesty with always be your strength so you’re not surprised when you pause and let the words fall from your lips in complete sincerity.

“By the way, before I go, I just wanted to say you’re really gorgeous and I hope you have an awesome day.”

The man snaps his attention at you from a page he was examining, caught off guard as he tries to reply. Honesty colors his expression, the unperceived positivity shocking him. Somehow he whispers his words of thanks.

You giggle as you turn on your heel to embark on a new journey in the FBI.

(It dawns at you hours later you forget to ask for his name.)

(Unbeknownst to you, he thinks the very same.)

-

You learn his name is Spencer Reid.

Doctor Spencer Reid to be precise and this is where everything starts to go downhill because the other day you called a man with eidetic memory gorgeous. You called a man with three PhDs and two BAs (maybe three if you heard the humor correctly about philosophy) gorgeous.  And the universe works in funny ways because you’ll be his new timekeeper and write his paychecks and—

Dear lord, he’s everything you’ve ever inspired to be wrapped up in a generally nice person as your new supervisor introduces you the Behavioral Analysis Unit and he’s there.

The man you bumped into.

The one named Doctor Spencer Reid.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware that he will not forget this because he does not forget anything and you try not to stutter, but you stutter your name anyway and he gives you a look of confusion because a few days ago you were this striking young woman you told him he was attractive and you know and he knows that and—

The universe works in funny ways as your growing admiration for the man before you makes you unable to speak.

(He’s everything you’ve ever wanted to be.)

(You don’t realize until years later that he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.)

-

You rarely have to speak to Doctor Reid which makes you count your lucky stars as months go by because talking to him is impossible because you have so many questions and questions and questions and—

You might have read a lot of his papers. It begins innocently enough. You’re just Googling him—for science and/or morbid curiosity—and there he is in Google Scholar and then you find his website that a friend runs and… Okay, you don’t really understand the math behind them, but the theories are understandable and you wish you were just as accomplished and talented.

And when you hear his name you feel a little more centered and focused because you’ve always needed a goal, you’ve always needed inspiration, and what is more inspiring than watching a young genius be so good at striving?

-

The East Coast is a little lonely, you think, one early winter day. Sunny California is across a vast continent and maybe, maybe, maybe you were a little rash when you packed up and left because adventure was calling you, but the East Coast is a little lonely.

Watercolor art prints and patterned sofa cushions can only keep you so much company. Who will see your teal and golden plates? Who will to come over to play video games and watch movies snuggled under fluffy throw blankets? Who will you invite to dinner one night after you cooked all day?

Your lovely apartment isn’t as warm with just one body. You need someone to talk to minus the lonely girl in you find in every mirror you own.

(Granted, there is nothing wrong admiring the self, just you can only tell your own joke so many times until it stops being funny.)

But friendship finds you fast one morning as you walk to the BAU and find the local tech analyst to certify timesheets for her colleagues.

(Sure, you could have dialed her extension, but sitting is the new silent killer and well—there is nothing wrong with meeting people. You can only talk to Mary for so long. The woman could easily be your grandmother.)

Your heels click once last time as you stand outside her door, hearing her voice muffled through the thick material. You pause with your fist raised and wait for her to stop speaking, not wanting to interrupt. But after awkwardly standing outside her door for five minutes, you think it’s best to try again later.

You sigh to yourself and turn to leave when the door swings wide open.

“Oh, a visitor!” she squeaks, asking about your name.

You clear your throat and tucking fallen hair behind your ear. “Yep, that’s me. Um, Ms. Garcia, I just wanted you to certify these timesheets are correct? I was told to ask you when Agent Hotchner wasn’t on site.”

She’s wearing a lovely shade of oxblood lipstick, her teeth far more than pearly when she smiles at you. “Yeah, the team just finished up their latest case and will be on their way home soon.” She glances at you and moves out of her door. “Come inside and I’ll sign these for you, alright?”

You nod and enter her office. There are computer monitors everywhere, much like a spy movie. “Thank you, if I’m not too much a bother. You seemed—like you were about to maybe leave?”

She plops herself in a rolly chair and laughs, logging back into her computer to e-sign if she needs to. “I sometimes get a little stir crazy in here, but my precious angels saved the day as usual so I thought I would get some fancy coffee or something.”

You like her outfit, you like the swirls and shapes of her dress. You like her snowflake earrings and headband and the way she smiled when she saw you was so cute you can’t help but ask.

“I’m about to go on my lunch. We can...we can go together if you’d like?”

(Winter is such a lonely season and you're desperate to connect with someone, to make sure that this move was worth it.)

Ms. Garcia peeks at you over the rim of her glasses, a friendliness in her very smile. “I think I’d like that very much. Lord knows I have to know where you got your blush!”

You laugh and find that in the months to come, things are less lonely with a new friend.

(The answer is you shop indie; loose powder blushes are best with a light hand.)

-

You go home for Christmas and run into your ex-boyfriend. Your heart calls out to him, wanting so much to pick up where you left off because you haven't stopped loving him yet.

He's smart, makes you laugh, is the one you've known for so long, that that familiarity is hard to replace.

As he kisses you, you realize he feels the same.

(He told you once that his home is California, but now he tells you that his home is with you.

A dark part of you wonders how long he’ll keep this claim.)

-

Winter snow melts and the seeds you planted in your friendship with Penelope bloom into soft laughter and happy conversations. You have someone whose office you run towards when paperwork gets boring and—

And she listens to your hopes and dreams as you crave to do more.

“My job,” you tell her, “is stupidly easy. Everything I do is stupidly easy which is fun and all, but I just…want to do more.”

Penelope laughs. “Okay, but I think payroll would hard. Like, really, dollface, there is nothing simple you do.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I used to work at a car dealership and I had to do all the math by hand. I had to learn how to do sales commissions by hand in about a month’s time. And while it was time consuming, even that wasn’t that hard. They’re just numbers, you know?” You groan. “I was just hoping for something a bit more fast paced, but I finish all my work so quickly and stuff? They’re running out of new tasks for me to learn because I keep getting them all.”

Penelope takes a sip of her coffee. “You should come work for me. I’d keep you busy! Plus, the department over here is a little understaffed in general.”

“Haha, maybe I can come train with you at least when I finish some of my other work?”

Garcia looks at you, thoughtful for a moment, and then grins. “Let me see what I can do.”

-

You get caught in an elevator with Doctor Reid. You avoid speaking to him still, but you have a notification setup that you get an email if he writes a new paper.

His latest one was about the mathematics for poetry formatting in books and how there is an algorithm to which poems are deemed best. It was a lovely weekend morning read. You left an anonymous comment on the journal’s page.

(You dug out your grad dissertation on universal global feminism and you’ve always wanted to rewrite it and submit for publication. You started a new document on Sunday.)

“Good morning,” he says.

You mumble the greeting in return, wincing internally that this will only add to your fumble tally.

He notices your bracelet, a lovely arrangement of turquoise cast in silver. A gift from your grandfather.

“Did you know,” he starts, “that the ancient Egyptians thought turquoise was a holy stone that brought good luck? And it’s goddess, Hathor, was a cow goddess and the mother, wife and daughter of the sun god, Ra. She was known as ‘Lady of Turquoise’, ‘Mistress of Turquoise’ and ‘Lady of Turquoise Country’.”

You briefly glance at him, taking a mental note to look up more about her when you get home. You’re about to respond, say please continue, enquire more because you want to know more...when the elevator dings and you—and you—

—panic as usual.

You brush by him, whispering, “Interesting.”

(You’re reminded when you had a Japanese teacher in college who told that Americans only say “interesting” when there is nothing nicer to say, but you know that’s not true. It was interesting and fascinating and left you wanting more! You know it’s not true, you just can’t…befriend Doctor Reid.     

He’s far too cool to be your friend, you think.)

-

Long distance is hard, but seeing Matthew’s face after a long day is worth so much. It’s dark in your room, your hair in a lazy bun with your big headphones your ears as you both video chat.

It’s getting close to 1:00 AM and you’re rambling about what happened in the elevator the other day. How awkward you were, how adorable Doctor Reid was.

Matt laughs, his voice a familiar balm for your anxiety. “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but it sounds like you have a crush on this doctor guy,” he tells you with an easy smile.

You loudly snort and bury your face in your pillow. “Matt, don't be ridiculous! Besides the only doctor I need is the one who I'm gonna marry,” you tease.

(Marriage is a fickle subject for you, both wanting a future together, but each of you stepping forward and back and your feelings hardly sync.)

He pauses for a moment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well...if I get into Georgetown, then I think I can make that a reality.”

-

Doctor Reid’s comment in the elevator starts a fixation on knowing the meaning on every stone you own.

Pearls are for wisdom acquired through experience. They are also used to calm oneself and to balance out one’s karma. Natural pearls form when an irritant - usually a parasite and not the proverbial grain of sand - works its way into an oyster, mussel, or clam. As a defense mechanism, a fluid is used to coat the irritant. Layer upon layer of this coating, called 'nacre', is deposited until a lustrous pearl is formed.

Diamonds are created out of pure carbon. They have very strong crystal structure where the carbon atoms in the crystal are especially strongly bonded. They can form octahedral (classical diamond), trapezoidal and dodecahedral crystals. Diamonds represent faithfulness, love, purity, innocence, and relationships filled with love.

Emeralds are for hope; to help tranquilize a troubled mind. The characteristic live green color of this stone originates from chromium impurities built-in within its crystal structure at the positions of aluminum.  Emeralds come from a stone called beryl. Lots of stones come for beryl.

For example, if there is too much blue in it, then it is an aquamarine. The Romans believed that if the figure of a frog were carved on an aquamarine, it served to reconcile enemies and make them friends.

(You’re not sure if Doctor Reid would appreciate a frog carved on an aquamarine.)

-

Two months later your supervisor calls you into her office and informs you that on Mondays and Wednesdays you will begin cross training with Penelope Garcia, provided there is no payroll that needs to be completed.

Butterfly wings find welcome in your heart again as your run back to your desk dialing her extension. She picks up on the very first ring.

“Thank you for dialing Penelope, the Fairy Godmother for admin clerks!”

You whisper loudly into the phone. “What did you do?”

Penelope chuckles and you can hear her shrug. “Nothing minus give you a challenge. Plus, if I train you, I can take more vacation days.”

You sink into your seat, disbelief seeping from your pores as you try to wrap your mind around everything. “But Garcia, I only know basic IT. I can’t even hack anything or anyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry, my sweet. You’re the one that said you’re a quick study.”

You scoff. “I meant for like! Simple things! I’m really not that smart.”

Garcia’s voice is warm over the phone. “Oh, I’ll be the judge of that. If you’re no good, I’ll send you back to admin full-time, but for now, be ready for next week!”

-

Your mother tells you she's so proud of you. So very proud of the young woman you’re becoming, happy that you’re seeking out good things out for yourself, so pleased that you’re living a life she didn’t get to have.

Matthew is oddly quiet at the news. He only sends a small congratulatory text and then proceeds to tell you about his day. He had avocado toast and is helping contribute to why millennials can’t afford houses.

It really bothers you when he does that. Ignores your successes because he thinks things are a competition between the two of you. Ignores your good things to shadow them with his bad.

(Recently he mentioned about applying to UCLA again. That California is a wonderful place and—

You tell yourself to be patient and just wait.)

-

You’ve always been one to like getting your feet wet, you’ve bragged enough times how you just jump into things without thinking it through. And the same is true come that Monday when the BAU is already hard on a case and you shadow and watch Garcia with amazing speed find all the information she needs.

You sit and shadow her, awe and fear rolling off you in waves.

-

Your mind spins after that first case, trying to keep up with everything, but you heart hammers happily in your chest and you feel breathless as you reason that you’ve been looking for this all along and—

Garcia smiles at you, warm and inviting.

“Show me what you can do, Miss Smartypants.”

(Lives were saved that day and you were apart of that.)

-

You properly meet Special Agent Derek Morgan on a night out with Penelope for dinner. His warm brown eyes size you up, see if you’re authentic or made of lies.

(Since you started therapy years ago, you no longer need to stitch yourself with false truths.)

You proudly grab his hand and give him a firm shake. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Penelope says you’re the light of her life.”

His smile widens as his fingers wrap around yours. “You know, my Baby Girl says the exact thing about you. Says you’re one of the smartest kids she knows.”

You scoff at that and roll your eyes. “She’s a flatterer who only wants vacation days. Truly, I have a wonderful mentor though.”

You sit with them on a late spring evening, enjoying good food and great company.

(You’re finding roots here, finding a home as people slowly begin to enter your life and call you their own.)

-

You mother calls you sounding tired. Her cancer has come back, but she goes to chemo every three weeks and is doing well.

You wish you weren’t so far from home, but she tells you she’s proud of you, proud of what you’re doing, proud of who you’ve become.

“You’re like me, my love, always chasing after something better.”

-

You see Doctor Reid in your local bookstore, browsing for something new to read. You’re doing much the same, perusing the oh so stimulating romance section.

You could say “hello” or ask what he’s reading next. You could ask him if he prefers paper or e-ink. You can ask him if he’d like to chat or discuss the weather or...

You could ask him a lot of things, but for some reason, anytime you see him, your bravery runs away.

(You don’t know this, but he sees you too. He’s at the same crossroads trying to befriend you.)

-

Penelope’s smile is so wide when you enter her office, two coffees in hand. “Why are you so happy?”

She spins in her seat and sighs with glee. “Oh, my wonderful and local genius has a girlfriend and gah, it makes me so happy!”

You giggle, “Well, that sure does sound wonderful! Congrats?”

She babbles about super genius babies as your mind drifts away. You wonder when your boyfriend will trek out East like you did too.

-

Doctor Reid doesn’t write for a long while. Can’t when you find out from a weepy Penelope that his girlfriend was murdered in front of him.

(He didn’t even touch her once and you find that’s far too intimate of information about a man you don’t even know and—)

You weren’t there when it happened, not training or shadowing. You went home to sunny California to visit your family and loved ones and yet—

Who knew that nine days away could change everything in a man’s life?

(Butterfly wings create hurricanes after hurricanes after hurricanes.)

-

Matthew breaks up with you via text.

I love you, but moving to the East Coast can't be part of my plans.

The message flashes over and over in your mind as you jab a punching bag. You don’t really know how to use a punching bag, but that’s besides the point as you smack at it away anyway. And since you don’t get field time, there’s no reason for you to have a gun. And maybe when someone is so angry, they shouldn’t want to practice shooting for the first time at the range.

You jab too swiftly to the right and your wrist bends in a way you’re positive it’s not supposed to and you hiss out in pain. In a fit, you kick the punching bag and it does little to soothe your building rage.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a concern voice says. It’s warm and kind, like milk and honey. “Pretty sure pretty girls like you should know how to put up a fight.”

You roll your eyes and cradle your wrist. “Hey, Morgan,” you say flatly.  

He gestures to take a look at your wrist and he happily decides it's not broken. “So, what’s his name and how should I hurt him?”

He puts up both his fists and your mirror him, following his motions as he shows you how to punch correctly. You smile for the first time since this morning.

“His name is asshole and good riddance!”

(The calluses on your knuckles do little to ease your broken heart.)

-

Butterfly wings cause hurricanes and you’re sitting at a used car lot alone signing the contract for a 2012 BRZ in white. You’ve always wanted a sports car, wanted to learn how to fix one up, have a nice car to drive on pretty days, have one to call yours and—

Matthew didn’t think getting a second car would be worth it, said weekend cars were lame and—

—you realize once again, that things just aren’t the same.  

You’re not very good at driving manual, and you stall about five times on the way home, but it’s okay.

-

Doctor Reid doesn’t come back to work right away. That makes sense. The love of his life just died in a most violent way.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t hurt a little, don’t feel any empathy. A life is gone from this world and now there seems to be a light missing.

(Will she be a star that watches over him and protects him? Does he even believe in those things?)

You might not be his friend, might never actually talk to him because he makes you tongue tied because you’re constantly afraid of fucking up in front of him so you always fuck up in front of him—

But that doesn’t mean you can’t send him your sympathies in an unsigned card, your heart going out to him as his remains missing.

(You kinda get the feeling.)

-

You might be, might be running yourself ragged as the months go on. Torn between payroll and the BAU, you can never get a moment’s rest. You’re in Garcia’s office more than just on Mondays and Wednesday. You’re there all the time, trying to soak up as much information as possible, learning the ins and the outs of her system, learning how to use computers in a way you’ve never thought before.

(You might use binary code to wash away every trace of Matthew from your mind. Try and try to forget him and just achieve.)

You’re taking over her little tasks slowly. Soon, you’ll run all of the inventory for all the field agents in the region, you’ll fix small problems, reset passwords, keep the world going and going as Garcia saves lives.

It’s hard work, being backup, but you go forth and try your best because this—this is what you’ve wanted all along.

-

It’s late one night as your eyes feel like they’re going to pool from your head. It was a payroll day and everything bad happens on payroll day, but you stay late in Garcia’s office long after she’s gone home to better familiarize yourself with her system.

It’s not hard, but there is a learning curve and just remembering all the things, all the little odds and ends.

Garcia is making you code a new program. She said it would be good to understand computer pathways. You want to pound your head against the desk, but you—you’re not the kind to give up. You’re almost there. You can do this by yourself because one day she won’t be here and you’ll have to help the team.

You refuse to give up and back away when you’re so close to something exciting and new and—

You see Doctor Reid pouring over paperwork when you go to get coffee and you feel slightly more renewed. If he can do it, then you can do it too.

You sit and close your eyes for a moment, finding yourself caught in the suspended reality of your body nodding off to sleep while your mind races. Black spots fill your vision despite you’re sure you’re still awake, but you’re not.

You wake hours later at the table in the kitchenette with a worn sweater around your shoulders.

(It looks oddly familiar.)

-

Fall welcomes you with open arms as you find yourself in Special Agent Aaron Hotchner's office a bright morning. You woke up at five, unable to sleep because today is the day and butterflies are swarming with every heartbeat.

You decided to wear dark red today with lipstick that looks much the same. You adorn yourself in pearls, praying for wisdom and maturity, for—

(Please remember to breathe, one breath, then two. In and out, out and in.)

You can—you can do this.

Hotchner sits across a dark wooden desk, a neutral expression on his face. “I see there is something you’d like to talk to me about?”

You nod, refusing to break under pressure because the man can read every micro expression. He can’t know there is tension between your shoulder blades. He also can’t know that it’s taking everything you have to not bounce your leg as nerves course through your whole body.

But the universe works in funny ways as it did almost two years ago, and events lead you to here as you catch a glimpse of Doctor Reid and you remember that this is where the man you most admire works and this is place your dearest friend works.

And this is the place you feel like you’ll belong because you’ve always been defined by your ambitions and this is no stepping stone, but somewhere you clawed to get to as you stayed up late for countless nights and learned how to code a computer in less than a year’s time and—

You square your shoulders back and let pride sing like your favorite song lyric.

You grab your resume and letter of reference from the folder sitting across your lap and push them across his desk. You read about this, performing a power play like successful businessman.

“I think it’s time you hire me, sir.”

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner gives you the briefest of pleased smirks as he takes your papers.

“Go on.”

-

Everything has a beginning and an end and yours starts when you pass through security at 8:05 AM. You're early for your first day at work, but the universe is a funny thing where you cause hurricanes because you have butterfly wings.

You greet the security team as you have done each morning, the sun shining brighter as it glistens spectacularly from a diamond milestone ring. It glows and sparkles with promises of a better future to come. You performed a small ceremony between you and this new opportunity.

You make your way up the elevators, finding friendly faces along the way. Today is a beginning, a new one for you, one you didn’t think you’d find but yet—

You’re the newest technician specialist for the BAU and they haven’t seen anything yet.

You’re ready.

You meet Hotchner in his office as he extends a warm hand and takes you to the meeting room where you are formally introduced to your new colleagues as Garcia’s new subordinate who will also do admin, payroll, IT, filing, inventory, and much more for the team.

“A jack of all trades, a master of none…” you start to say.

“...but better than being a master of one,” Doctor Reid finishes for you. He offers a small smile, an attempt, perhaps an olive branch.

(You want to reach out, you want to accept it like how Athena would want you to, but fear flashes fire in front of you and you...can’t.)

You swallow, your heart thudding in your chest, your smile falling, your tone more flat.

“Yes. Exactly.”

His own smile disappears, a slow descent like embers in the wind.

(Oh, you think with shaky feelings, maybe you’re not completely ready.)

-

You surprise the team with your efficiency, surprise them especially when you carry a crate and set up your desk in a half hour’s time. Your kettle sits on the corner of your desk, filled to the brim with steaming water.

You set up your packets of tea and line them up accordingly, place the sweetener in their container, organize your lipsticks and rollerball perfume bottles in their selected bin. You have knickknacks and things and a small plant.

You already knew which supplies you wanted, place every pen where it needs to go, setup your desktop and login, rearing and ready to go.

You surprise them with the snacks you have, always prepared with a bandaid and lint roller and anything thing one needs off hand.

You surprise them when you expedite their things and find files they need before they ask. You surprise them with extra thoughtfulness.

It’s only been two weeks.

(You ignore that your desk seats across from Doctor Spencer Reid. You ignore that fact, but you still politely offer him tea.

You no longer stutter, but butterflies dance on your tongue, the beats of their wings taking the rest of your words with them.)

-

You both politely exchange “hello” and “goodbyes” and work well enough when he requires something of you, but there’s a distance that stretches two years long of fumbles and weirdness and you’re not sure exactly how to take it away.

(You know he remembers every mistake. You know he knows ever ill attempt. You know he knows a lot of things, but you doubt he knows that you just want to be his friend.)

You know it’s wrong how you are able to laugh with the team, you being you and slipping your way to patch up the cracks effectively. It’s just how you are, you see the problem and fix it because you’re a fixer and—

—it’s so wrong when you can’t fix the awkwardness that sticks to you whenever you see Reid.

-

JJ smiles at you, but there is a distance in her smile, the same sizing you up, the same decision on the tip of her tongue that Morgan once gave you. She wants to know if you’re good enough, if you are quick enough, if you are enough.

She’s just too polite to directly ask.

You learn quickly that Doctor Reid is someone she cherishes most in the world, an underlying easiness and trust between them. Her son is the doctor’s godson. A bond of family and forever intertwining their lives.

However, there's a barrier between you and her as you continue to unsettle her.

And you're not sure how to branch the divide. How does one cross a desert in the middle of a sandstorm? How does one exit a forest but have no map? Yet the universe works in the funny ways and you find her struggling to carry heavy boxes. Wordlessly you take some from her and give her a hesitant from.

“Hi.”

JJ blinks then acknowledges you slowly. “...hey.”

“Tell me where to go, yeah?”

She blinks again, her mouth in a twitching line as thoughts speed through her head. After another pause, she nods and gestures not too far down the hall. “Follow me.”

It's a little stilted, but not impossible as you help her lift crates from one room to the next. There's a slight tension in the air; however, it does not hurt you. You don't mind. You're just trying to not dirty your dress.

After many quiet minutes, she gestures around the room. “Thanks,” she says as she wipes her hands on her jeans. “For everything. You're actually doing an awesome job.”

You feel warm at the unexpected praise, as if permafrost is melting. “Thank you,” you bashfully reply. “I'm still really nervous and I triple check everything no matter how small the job.”

Her firm mouth softens, understanding present in her blue eyes.”I was just like that when I first started. From media liaison to actual agent, micromanaging will always be my forte.”

You nod, sitting down and twisting your diamond ring. “Yeah, my business brain is good at it. It likes everything nice and organized.”

“Business brain?”

Your gaze meets her slightly before going back to your ring. “Yep, business brain. I’m much more relaxed when I’m not working. More chill, I guess? I just get really focused when I’m working so when I’m at home I kinda just...let my mind wander? Disarray doesn’t bother me as much and I’m quite messy much to my mother’s frustration.”

For the first time since you’ve met her, you hear JJ laugh because of you and it’s a nice sound. A bit warm and kind like she is. “I definitely know that feeling. The tunnel vision is real and by the time I get home, I just want to kiss my kid and husband. Who cares about dirty dishes when you get to lay in bed?”

Even though the two of you stand on opposite cliffs, the gap between you and JJ closes a bit more that day.

-

There will always be a gap between you, between the awkwardness that surrounds you when Doctor Reid is concerned. And he is one of JJ’s most precious people, a bond between them only needing glances, brimming smiles and inside jokes and—

JJ is more fond of you now, but you will not forget where her loyalty lies.

Will not forget where all their loyalties lie.

-

You have desks scattered around the office as the weeks go by and after forty-one days, you’ve accepted that your most central desk will continue to be the one right across from Doctor Reid. You tried to make yourself at home by one down the hall near the windows, in Penelope’s bat cave, and even at a small kiosk by counterintelligence.

But home is where your kettle is and the desk closet to the filtered water and the bathroom happens to also be the same once near Doctor Reid.

So you accept your fate and call that desk your home base, slowly giving that name to tell others where to find you if they need you. You say it in your emails, in your phone messages, in conversations had briefly in the halls.

“If you need me, I’ll be at my home base. The desk right across from Doctor Reid’s.”

(Of course, the other three get names as well: the windows, the bat cave, and the boondocks.)

But home base is yours as much as it is his in a way. It’s easier when he’s not there, when the whole team is away on a case and you can breathe without his all remembering eyes keeping detail of your every action. There is a freedom in doing the tasks without distractions and Doctor Reid’s eyes are inquisitive and curious things that follow your many movements throughout the day.

It’s unintentional, of course, the way his sight falls on your form when you’re there sitting across from him. They are not of lingering looks of longing from a lover or even jaded jealousy or fracturing frustration at the constant chatter. No, they are just learning eyes that can’t help but soak up information with their movement.

Maybe it comes from the fact that people have the eyes of a predator, always looking forward, always stalking, always hunting in slow motions. That humans have only survived so long by the ability to endure slowly, by always following, by tracing and remembering every detail. By pure stamina alone.

Sometimes you wonder if the Doctor realizes he’s a predator of memorization—of knowledge—his gift as easy as breathing, his mind a shimmering wonder. It—he—his mind unerves you. By one look and you feel exposed and the butterflies in your chest cavity break free and you feel very alone.

But you are just as human as he is, you think, so you continue to endure, continue to also look forward as you help a colleague reset his email and meet the Doctor’s quick instinctual glance with your heart hammering against your chest in both uncertainty and admiration.

If only you can be a predator of knowledge as he is, the world a book for your to reveal in every detail without forgetting, perhaps you would look at others so innocently and kindly without regard to their notice of your every movement.

-

You rarely speak full conversations with Doctor Reid. They are speechless and brief encounters as he tries to get you to open up. Mainly you just nod and listen before dashing. If you’re lucky, you avoid him before he sees you. But on the off chance you haven’t hidden yourself somewhere away in the vast building, he tries to talk to you.

(Bless him. Bless him because you’re awkward and you know that you shouldn’t be afraid but—

—the lingering fear of him always remembering your fumbles stops you from continuing.)  

He’s tried jokes. Awful jokes about philosophy and physics. Little literary tidbits that delight your day. You smile small, your face feeling tight and you mutter you ever rude American interesting again and again and again.

Sometimes you switch it up. Sometimes you say “I see”.

But of course when you go home and have time to process, you cackle at his hilarity

He’s tried greeting you, asking you about your day, asks what you’re doing, but his very existence causes your hair to stands on ends and you don’t know why and you trying and so—you barely answer him.

“Hello.”

“It’s going well.”

“Working.”  

Today you promise—will be different. You cannot continue to be like this around him as you grow closer to the people he loves most. You promised it will be different the day before and the day before that. But today’s a new day and you’re making coffee—

You feel cheerful at a dumb mug that’s ages older than you from your mother. A stupid mug for a worker in the cog and it’s faded yellow with the inside all marked up. You love this mug more than anything in the world because it reminds you how much time has passed since you were a little girl.

And you’ve always wanted to be just as hardworking, just as strong and powerful as the woman who raised you by herself for years and years and years until she found good love sometime later. You’ve always admired her and wanted to be like her and there was this dumb mug of hers that she said would be yours one day if you worked hard enough and—

It showed up in the mail a week ago, filled with all the sweets you adore most. Tucked inside rested a folded up note with her praise written carefully.

For my child, who has done everything I’ve ever wanted to accomplish and more. Who makes me proud every day and who will always be better than her yesterdays.

Love you more than anything in the world,

Mom

Joy surges deep within as you take a sip of coffee made from your press. Also a present that came with the mug. A glorious French press to only add to your stylish ambiance you’ve spent years crafting. Shining stainless steel glistening and gleaming as hot water simmers coarse ground beans into something delicious.

You feel a little complete, your back straighter than other days. Today will be the day you stop being a chicken and finally cease the awkwardness around Doctor Reid. It just has to be. You mote it be.

He comes in not too long after you’ve settled down while going over inventory for the department. He says hello to Morgan and Blake, and situates himself at his desk. He’s a little late, you notice, knowing that punctuality is important to him, but you ignore his slight frazzled rush as you recount the number of items you’re ordering.

Anxiety cements your stomach as you force yourself to look up and brave him a smile. You know it’s not your best, but you try as you steady your mug in your hand.  

“Good morning, Doctor,” you say, meeting hazel eyes.

The mug is warm in your hands as you bring it to your lips to sip. You mentally pat yourself on the back.

He stares at you for a moment and gives you a tight nod. “Morning.”

In a flash, as if an idea has come to him, he’s searching for a paper in his stacks on his desk and you return to your inventory counting. It’s a start, you think. Just enough of something that you find yourself grinning a bit to yourself. You tally up the amount of one item and you’re quickly on to the next when he addresses you offhandedly.

“You know, you are lucky to work here,” he says.

Your pencil halts in your hand, a milimeter away from making a new checkmark in its column before you are entirely distracted. You swallow. You look back up, seeing he’s completely immersed in his search.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat yourself?”

Doctor Reid looks at you and smirks, though there is an oddness in his expression and you’re not able to quite place it. It...it unnerves you.  “Yeah, I said that you’re lucky to work here.”

You blink and stop breathing. Anxiety clings to every part of you, you replaying his words on loop. And he’s right, because it’s only by dumb luck you’ve ended up on this team and hard work can only get your so far and you’ve seen talented and it’s comprised entirely of the BAU and—

The gap between the two of you widens beyond compare and you’ll never be his equal—its just not possible—and he’s knows that. He has all seeing remembering eyes, Penelope the greatest tech whiz on the planet, the list goes on and on and you count each thing in lightning speed and—

(Oh my, you might need to write this shit down later to talk about in therapy.)

You nod only once, getting to your feet and grabbing your cell phone. You clutch it so tight you’re afraid it will snap, the intensity hurting your knuckles.

“Duly...duly noted, sir,” you say quietly. A crashing train rings in your ears. Your mouth is dry. “There’s coffee cake in the break room if you’d like any…”

In the corner of your eye, you see Morgan start to rise. You can’t bare to look at Doctor Reid and ignore further still when he calls your name. You can’t look at any of them, the difference between them and you so striking. It makes the diamond ring on your finger turn into lead.

Tightness expands in your chest, but you expel it instantly when you see a supervisor is calling you. And supervisors don’t care if you’re in the middle of reevaluating your self worth.

“Hello, BAU Automation. How can I help you?”

You escape the rest of the day from the prying eyes of the profilers of the BAU. You ignore their looks and you don’t see Reid for the rest of the day. You count your blessings. Each one a soothing balm on the burns upon your skin and your heart and your disposition.

You are in the break room washing the coffee cake platter that you realize you haven’t washed your mug from this morning. Coffee was long forgotten as your heart sped up too much for you to stand.  Makes you too antsy when you’re already in turmoil, you stomach too weak and your nerves too strong.  When you get back to your desk, memories of this morning smack you with clarity as everything begins to make sense.

You’re lucky to work here, he said. You’re lucky to work here, he said, he said, he said.

Shame floods you instantly as embarrassment comes like an unwanted bully taunting you. Your mistakes laughing at you once again as your mind thought too far ahead without all the facts. Without asking. Without understanding.

(You’re a selfish creature, it seems. Sometimes caught up in your own mind on your own time without a care in the world for others.

Oh, what a stupid and foolish girl you truly are.)

For there, written as plain to see in red letters is the phrase: tell me again how lucky I am to work here again.

-

Penelope confronts you first about it, catching you in the kitchenette as you fill up your kettle.

“Hey, lovely, I don’t know how to say this, but—”

You stiffen for a moment, before bowing your head, accepting what fate has in store for you.  “Please be blunt. I’m sure whatever you’re going to say won’t be that bad.”

You hear her swallow as she leans against the counter. “Well, as your closest friend on the team, we just—have kinda noticed—”

(You wince. You know. You know what she’s going to say. You know.)

“You’re really weird with Reid. And it’s super weird because you’re so nice and I’m pretty sure you actually read his articles and I was wondering if you—maybe had feelings? For him?”

Her words hang in the air, a squeaky echo that rings with your very heartbeat as everything comes swinging back in full motion.

You slam on all metaphorical breaks and refuse to let this conversation continue down this road.  Refuse to take your heart down this road. You shake your head and groan. “No, no. Just. I don’t have a crush on him. I just—” you sigh and sit at the nearby table. “I just—”

Penelope grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. “Did he do something wrong? Is that what it is?”

You laugh and feel heat spreading to your face. You can’t believe you’re about to say this. To someone who you work with because you’ve only talked about this with people detached from your job.  “No, I just...really...stupidly admire him and he...intimidates me…because I think he’s one of the most remarkable people on the planet....”

(In fact, you told your therapist the same thing two weeks ago when you saw her last. Before the whole cup debacle, you told her how you were failing at this one attempt of friendship and you were watching everything go downhill in a fiery crash.)    

Penelope blinks, her mouth forming a little “o”. She tries to speak, but laughs instead. Such a delighted sound spills from her and you want to bury yourself in quicksand knowing that it will never be like the cartoons.

“Oh, that’s rather sweet.”

You rest your head on your forearms. “No, it’s anything but sweet. It’s really weird and I keep obsessing that he remembers every stupid fuck up I’ve done so I fuck up more and...Penelope, it’s freaking awful. So yeah, there you go. I admire him very much and he gives me intense anxiety.”  

Penelope leans forward, her cheek resting in her palm. “I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that Reid gives them anxiety, let alone intense anxiety.”

You look at her straight in the eye. “Penelope, that man is a demigod and terrifying. Terrifying!”

She chuckles again, her eyes warm. “Sweetie, this is Spencer we’re talking about. He’s a bonafide dweeb,” she declares with mirth. “I should know. He and I are the greatest of geek buddies!” She pauses for a moment before her eyes narrow. “Hey! Why is he a demigod and I’m not a revered goddess?”

This time you laugh, a true smile digging into your cheeks. “No, no. Don’t worry, my dear. You are most def a terrifying goddess, but I happen to love you.”

Penelope stills before melting in her seat. “Oh my god, I love you too, you sweetest of sweet talkers.” She captures your hand in hers again, mischief and happiness dancing in her eyes. “But still, there’s no need to be afraid of Spencer, he’s just a dweeb.”

You focus on the texture of her skin as your heart thuds in your chest, your mouth in an awkward line.

“Sure, Penelope. Whatever you say.”  

-

A few days pass in relative quietness as the team is away on training. You’re praying that perhaps, just this once, Doctor Reid will be able to forget everything. Just once. Just one time and you’ll go back to your normal life where you’ll continue to be awkward and weird and—well, that’s the status quo you know and you’re gonna fucking stick with it if it kills you.  

Because, okay, sure. You fucked up the other day, but today is the day! And yes, the status quo is awkward and weird, but you’re such a glutton for punishment, such a person who survives on succeeding, that you go back to the drawing board and will yourself to try again.

But of course, you’re an overachiever. A frightened and terrified overachiever, but one nonetheless.

So, you do the one thing you’re elementary school teacher told you to do: you write him a letter.

A hastily written letter detailing your vague explanations for your odd behavior. Your apologies are peppered with compliments and fear sprinkling in loopy misspelled words.  You write only one page length, refusing to pen a novel. Because even you have standards when it comes to desperations and it has been two years of awkward miscommunications for this to continue any longer.

You stick it under his stapler and hopes he doesn’t notice it right away when he first comes in. You’re already knee deep in updating all the property passes for cell phones right now in the department, finding your stride as you listen to movie and video game soundtrack scores.

(You read somewhere that those kind of scores are good for keeping concentration.)

Doctor Reid pauses for a moment as he settles his bag down, his ears straining to hear what you’re listening to.  You can feel his curious gaze wash over you as you continue to do your work, but you lightly swallow and glance up at him.

“Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood soundtrack. It’s an anime,” you say. Your voice sounds muffled as you continue to stare at the screen.

In your perphiary, you see him nod. Someone across the room catches his attention and he leaves his desk before he even sits down.

You ignore the part of you that wants him to notice the letter. You know that if he does, then things will change and change is hard and—it’s a lot easier listening to the part of you that hopes he never finds it because things can continue as they are.

You let out a breath and answer an email instead, finding out that Kevin needs you down in counterintelligence to help one of his guys with a password issue. It will be a welcome break from the waiting.

Or dreading.

(While you’re away, Reid finally notices a note under his stapler.)

-

An hour later after dumb conversations, you finally wind your way back home to your desk to suffer under property passes when Doctor Reid all but slides up to you.

You yelp, placing a hand over your heart. “Oh my god, you scared me.”

His mouth is in a firm line, holding something in his hand. “Like how I scare you daily or…?”

Your eyes drift to the paper, thoroughly crinkled now after you last saw it. “I—I think the words I used were intimidating and awe inspiring. It’s truly a compliment.”

He quirks a brow, his mouth twisting more with displeasure. “A compliment? Seriously?”

You take a step back, finding air in your lungs again as you assess the situation. You’re tired of the tension that simmers between the two of you. You’re reminded of a rubber band.

You shrug, putting on false airs. “Yeah, a compliment. You make me speechless and that’s kinda remarkable.”

Doctor Reid looks down, the paper crackling in his hand. “That’s really sad.”

Your heart is beating like thunder in your chest. You’ve been avoiding this like the plague because confrontation is hard and you’re—not as amazing as you claim to be. You’re just a person.

(And so is he.)  

(And so is he.)

And relief rains down over you as you feel a giggle bubble in your chest. Doctor Reid snaps his attention to you, confusion marking his features.

“Are...are you okay?”

You suck in a quick breath of air, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just—oh god, this sounds so stupid, but I feel so much better now.” You smile is wide as you look at him, your shoulders feeling less tense and the world a bit more bright. “I’m sorry for being weird, but can we start over?”

The doctor blinks and quirks his lips in a wry smile, baffled yet pleased. “Um. Sure? Like right now?”

“Yeah, like right now,” you tell him. You stick out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.”  

You know he doesn’t do handshakes, it’s not his thing. Germs and whatnot, but he stares at your chipped fingernail polished hand for a moment before grasping yours. He’s warm to the touch even if his grip isn’t the strongest you’ve felt.

His smile is careful as hope digs into his dimples. “Nice to meet you.”

-

There’s a gentle mist outside as you leave to go home that night. Doctor Reid is not far behind you, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag as a sudden chill sinks its teeth into both of you.

A hung silence stills as you peer over at the man beside you, your body on autopilot to flee, but your heart wanting to root your feet into the ground.

“It’s scary how you don’t forget things,” you tell him honestly. You scuff your shoe on gritty concrete, the sound a clashing cymbal. “And I got really hung up on that. I’m sorry.”

Doctor Reid doesn’t say anything for a long time, the night air frizzing your hair. Your adrenaline tries spiking again, but you’re tired. You’re tired and you just to have clear air between the two of you. Forever.

His voice is gentle and just as frayed as you feel. “When I first met you, the very first time, I was the one who was awestruck and intimidated,” he chuckles. “You were this bright purple entity and you smiled at me so brightly and called me gorgeous. I was…” he pauses, “...I literally stopped thinking.”

Heat rushes to your face, a natural blush creeping under your makeup. “I agonized over that for so long, you know,” you tell him quietly. “Like I felt like such a fool because you’re truly are inspiring and well—yeah.”

It’s hard to say all the things you think about him--idealized and fictitious and real. Too real to share with a practical stranger.  

(If only you realize your feelings would spiral into something more fond than admiration, perhaps you would have jumped feet first faster.)

There is a magnetism between the two of you as you stand in the quiet. An otherworldliness where hurricanes no longer exists and all the butterflies sleep. A change happening quicker than you can think.

He hums. “I think—you don’t realize that you’re scary too. You’re actually terrifying.”

You snap your attention to him and he gives you a kind grin. “What? No, I’m not!” you protest.  

Doctor Reid laughs and it’s a good and pleasing sound. It lights up his whole face as he gestures towards you. “Yes, yes you are! You are so calculated and great with people. Always fashionable and you’re so intelligent. And teachable. You just...absorb information. It’s fascinating. And everyone knows that you’re an extremely hard worker and adorable overachiever.” he says with a smirk.

Your throat feels thick with all the praise. “It’s not that hard...someone has to do it...”

Doctor Reid steps in front of you and briefly touches your upper arm. “See? You don’t even realize that to someone else watching you achieve all these great things, that you’re terrifying. You have no idea how high of a standard you’ve set. You have no idea how remarkable you are. I’m truly and utterly impressed.”

The pretty hazels of his eyes have turned a warm brown in the poor lighting. You nod only once, your voice soft. “...thank you, Doctor.”

“Spencer,” he corrects. “My friends call me Spencer.”

Everything has a beginning and an end, but there’s not end in sight as you grin. “Thank you, Spencer. Truly.”

—

Condensation mists at the coffee shops window as you both step inside, unsure exactly how you got here with Spencer, but pleased all the same. Who knew that a lame letter would be catalyst you needed?

You both order your respective drinks and sit down at table towards the back, away from the chatter of college students pretending to study.

Both of you don’t know exactly what to say.

“It kinda feels like an awkward first date,” you tell him and you squash all shame that comes up from feeling stupid because you’re not stupid.

You’re not.

(You’re so intelligent.)

Doctor Reid--Spencer!--lets out a surprised laugh, almost spilling his drink on his clothes, but only getting the table. “Dear god, I hope not. I have been on a lot of those. Enough for this lifetime, that’s for sure.”

You giggle as you sip a tea latte. “Mmmm. I have only been on a handful. None recently though. I don’t date much these days.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit...difficult to date...in this line of work.”

You see him swallow and slight unease rolls off his shoulders. You think of a card you signed almost two years ago, tucked into a basket Garcia left on his doorstep after--the you know, the thing.

“Well,” you start, picking up the energy. “It doesn’t have to be! This can be--this can be, I don’t know a fun first friend date. Friend dates are kinda best dates anyway.”

“A friend date?”

You nod. “Mmmhmmm. Friends don’t let you know, just dumb ex-boyfriends who break promises about not moving to the East Coast with you,” you sing.

Spencer’s eyes widen at. “Oh?”

You laugh. “Oh no, you have to go on like--at least, three friend dates to unlock my tragic backstory. Like a dating sim. It can be a heart event!”

He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to suppress a laugh. “You know I’m...basically a technophobe, right?”

“I might not be as techy as Penelope, but I think I have enough gadgets for the both of us. I’ll get you up to speed with my farming simulation games.”

Spencer runs a hand through his hair, this time actually laughing. “Do I really even want to know?”

You smirk and lean back in your seat. “Look, farming simulation games where I can marry a cute villager is important to me. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Because we’re gonna be friends now?”

You smile wide and pat the top of his hand. “Exactly.”

(Oh, how the future looks merry and bright.)

[thesoundthread-blog]

BEST  MUSIC OF JANUARY

With streaming making listening to music so easy and so many artists dropping readily available music every week, it’s sometimes overwhelming. 

That’s what we’re here for. The boys of The Sound Thread will compile a top ten list for you each month with our favourite tracks. We may not always agree, but we will always provide you with quality music. Enjoy our first playlist and Download it directly to your phone below:

Spotify: 

https://open.spotify.com/user/12160583826/playlist/03XVCDQK4Y3WvVqQERMlzT

Apple Music:

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/playlist/sound-thread-january-2017/idpl.65ac9c30dcc44b72b80225987fb51834

Here is our list for the month of January. Let us know what you think!

Agree? Disagree? What would you add or take out?

10. Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran

Jeremy: I’ve always been a big Ed Sheeran fan. I feel like he is one of the few guys in the acoustic genre who is blurring boundaries and pushing music forward. He isn’t afraid to be himself and he is definitely not afraid to experiment. On this tune Ed takes you back to his childhood and gives you memories that after listening to this song, you may even feel like you lived yourself. This song is perfect for listening to on a plane ride back home or to make you think of all of the awful life shaping mistakes you made in the 9th grade.

Jared: It is so great to hear from Ed again after his romantically induced hiatus. Out of his two new releases I definitely prefer Castle On The Hill, as it is less pop influenced and more closely resembles some of my favourite songs from him. The line “Singing to Tiny Dancer” also really hits home with me as I can picture myself on numerous occasions screaming Elton John lyrics while driving.

9. Undercover - Kehlani

Jonny: I’m gonna be honest, Kehlani was on my bad side when she cheated on Kyrie Irving. Dude gets buuuuuuuuckets. Anyways, it was hard to stay mad at her after listening to her new album “SweetSexySavage”. Undercover is just the stand out song, there are 3-4 songs that could've easily made this list but Julian is a douchebag so we had to limit it to one. This song takes a page from Akon as it samples the 2006 hit “Don’t Matter”. Do yourself a favour and listen to this album, you will go through the entire emotional spectrum.

Julian: Cheated on Kyrie… WHACK

Jeremy: Okay, so even though this song is only at number 9, this is the most controversial song on the playlist. Jonny and I had to fight pretty hard to get this one on the list at all. You can be the judge after listening to it for yourself, but I think this is forsure one of Kehlani’s best songs overall and one of the best songs off of her (in my opinion) incredible album. Here is where my Bias may be coming in. The song that she samples is “Don’t Matter” by Akon and “Don’t Matter” by Akon was like my theme song in grade 10 when I was dating my sister’s friend because “they didn’t want to see us together - but it don’t matter no cause I got you.” So I may just be getting over-emotional. “One way or another, I’mma” make sure this song gets the love it deserves. Sorry fellas.

Jared: Worst song on the list. Akon is cool though. 8. Tempted - Jazz Cartier

Jonny: I’m getting this out of the way quickly, THIS IS NOT PARTYNEXTDOOR. But if you like PND, Jazz’s style is similar and is also from Toronto. Although this is a love song it also hits hard. Hopefully this jam becoming a consistent go-to track in clubs across Canada. I could easily see myself getting curved multiple times while this song is playing. Can't wait. :)

Jared: Over the past couple years Jazz Cartier, or as he sometimes goes by “Jacuzzi Cartier” has gained clout throughout rap scene. The Toronto artist has made it own his own without a cosign from Drake and has caught the eye of many, ironically including Young Money superstar Lil Wayne. His new track “Tempted” is an absolute banger and is sure to set the tone in any situation that involves getting fired up. 7. Drew Barrymore - SZA

Jonny: This song has nothing to do with Drew Barrymore. Despite the confusion it was my most played song this month for this playlist. Her lyrics: “Somebody get the tacos / Somebody get spark the blunt / Let’s start the night of at episode one.” sounds like a damn good night to me. Taking netflix and chill to a whole new level. Kendrick Lamar found a diamond in the rough in SZA and his a huge addition to the TDE family.

Jared: I have yet to figure out why this song is titled “Drew Barrymore”. Regardless, the track by TDE’s first lady is one of my favourite releases from her thus far. Since seeing SZA perform live at Squamish Valley Music Festival in 2015 while she was sporting a retro Vancouver Grizzlies jersey as if it were a dress, I have been a fan. Although the lyrical content of this song is actually quite depressing, I still enjoy hearing from SZA and am excited for her new project. 6. Saved - Khalid

Julian: My opinion, Khalid has one of the most refreshing voices in the music industry right now. “Saved” has the same ingredients of greatness that has worked on his other singles like “Location.” The song features lyrics that tell a story and an instrumental that is a pleasant change of pace from trap/bass driven tracks lately.

Jared: As of recently I have been religiously listening to Khalid on a day-to-day basis. Although the 18 year old from Texas has only released a handful of songs, he has an extremely bright future ahead of him, in my opinion. His voice is diverse in the sense that each one of his songs gives a different vibe and has appeal for different situations. In this track he discusses how he is still not over his ex and how down that makes him feel, while in other songs such as “Let’s Go” the approach he takes is more positive and results in completely different song. With this track dropping and the announcement of his album (coming March 3rd) it is safe to say that I’m excited about this young talent’s presence on the music scene. 5. Sideline Number – Russ

Julian: While I will probably never relate to Russ's problem of needing another phone number to deal with the group of women who want to have sex with him, I still really enjoyed this song. Out of all the songs released this month I actually think i've listened to this the most. I have no idea why I like this song as much as I do, but it's incredibly catchy. After a few listens you'll be singing along to the chorus every time.

Jeremy: I don’t think there is anyone putting out quality music as frequently as Russ. The guy basically drops a hit record every two weeks. If you’re still sleeping on Russ then you should probably wake up. And if he’s not hitting you back then you may have his wrong phone, try getting his #2 line. 4. Moving on and Getting Over – John Mayer

Julian: What a tune. The vibes on this track are just so happy and bubbly. The outro with 1:15 left in this song could be played at the end of any romantic comedy movie. Every time I listen to it I just picture a scene where Joseph Gorden Levitt – while smiling, crumbles up a picture of his ex and subtly tosses it over his shoulder while walking in public (but deep down inside he’s not actually over her). I love how it sounds like an outro song, HOWEVER, it’s the intro to his EP and it sets the tone perfectly

Jeremy:  John Mayer can have sexual relations with my girlfriend and he may even convince me it was for the best. I think Julian put it best below, but there is nothing that this man cannot get away with after making such beautiful music. He has an angelic voice that comes around once in a lifetime and the guitar picking skills mixed with songwriting that can make a bird with a broken wing fly.. No correction * soar * once again. Love this EP - but I’m not actually in love with John Mayer. I just really really like him.

Jared: The part in the middle of this song where he hits those high notes is bananas!!!! #MayerSZN is in full effect baby. 3. No One Knows Me (Like My Piano) - Sampha

Julian: If you don’t know who “Sampha” is, let me help you… “DON’T THINK ABOUT IT TOO MUCH TOO MUCH, THERE’S NO REASON TO RUSH IT THROOOoOoOough”Yes. That was him on drake’s “too much,” which you’ve probably botched singing at the top of your lungs in your car. This song is just as emotional as that chorus, however instead of him singing gut-wrenchingly about a lover, he is singing about his piano. I haven’t heard and artist sing this emotionally about an object since Queen’s “Bicycle.” To be honest it doesn’t matter what Sampha sings about because his chillingly voice will keep me listening to every song he releases (listen to “Timmy’s Prayer). If you’re looking for a new artist please give him a listen, and add this song to your chill playlist on spotify/apple music.

Jonny: I can’t really express my feelings towards this song more than Julian did. I don’t even own a piano but I can relate to this through my Rock Band 2 drum set. Countless hours of emotion, passion and dedication with an object can become a huge part of your life and when you’re separated from it you just don’t know what to do with yourself. Sampha creates a masterpiece here where you wish you didn’t take things for granted throughout your life. Watch out for him to be a serious threat in the music game for years to come.

Jeremy: My mother does own a grand piano. I have spent some serious hours there. For me to say that no one or no thing knows like that piano would be a flat out lie. However, when Sampha says it, I believe it. I’m almost certain that he had to get a new piano after writing this song because of all of the tears that are left on every key. Listen to this song while driving alone at your own risk and make sure to call your family members and ex girlfriends after this to thank them for getting you to where you’re at today. Good call on the Bicycle reference Julian. Migos and Sampha > The Beatles and Queen.

Jared: Although I had not been listening to Sampha since his feature on Drake’s 2013 hit “Too Much”, it was a delight to hear this beautiful voice again. Considering the instrument I have invested the most time into was the recorder throughout elementary school, I cannot relate to the bond Sampha has with the piano at his mother’s home, nonetheless after hearing this song it was an obvious pick for my list. If Sampha continues to release tracks such as this one, I believe he will gain much more recognition and break the label of “that guy on that Drake song”, which he is given by many people (including myself).

2. T-Shirt - Migos

Julian: Seriously at this point forget Jordan, Pippen and Rodman, the Migos are the most iconic trio of all time. When it's all said and done the Migos will have more hits than the Beatles, and they'll have done it with one less member. All it takes is one listen of this song to have the chorus stuck in your head. The song has a very different vibe to it than other Migos tracks that are very bass heavy and full of interjections and ad-libs. If you take over the aux cord at a house party in the next few months, you have to open with this song.

Jonny: MIGOS CAN NOT LOSE. The group really found their groove on their latest album “Culture”. Easily the best album of 2017 so far in my opinion. My favourite part of this song is Quavo’s extremely catchy hook and subtly saying “Oooooouuuuu” and “Uhhhhhhh” under Takeoff and Offset’s verse’s respectively. If you didn’t think this song could get any better, watch the music video. By far one of the most hilarious things I have ever viewed.

Jeremy:  Now although my mamma never told me not to sell work, it was extremely implied in my suburban upbringing. Sentiments like “don’t do drugs” and “stay away from the bad crowd” still ring in my head when I pass by dark corners. However, if I had listened to this song back in the day, you best believe I would be running every block in the city in my white t-shirt. This song is just so hypnotic that it almost feels like you’re in a trance that could take you back to the middle ages where Quavo is the king of the land and the bass is the wake up call for the town every morning. Or maybe that’s just me.

Jared: STRAIGHT OUT NORTH ATLANTA!!!! As of recently the three boys from Georgia known as the “Migos” have been untouchable. Following the release of their platinum single “Bad And Boujee” Quavo, Takeoff and Offset have been dropping fire left and right. Although there are countless things to say about the Migos, one thing that has always stood out to me has been their use of ad-libs, and at this point I feel as though they have perfected the profound art. The combination of the trifecta’s ad-lib use and melodic flows resulted in the song “T-Shirt”, which in our opinion is one of the best songs to release in January. 1. You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me - John Mayer

Julian: Wow, what can I say about John Mayer’s new EP that hasn’t already been said about the movie “UP.” It had me crying five minutes in, and I told everyone to check it out without giving them a fair warning. I didn’t know how much I needed this song in my life till I heard it. The whistling in the track takes me back to Disney’s “Robin Hood”, and the lyrics took me back to my first break up. If John Mayer cheats on you, all he has to do is play a guitar riff and you’ll be the one apologizing. This is easily the standout track from my favourite project of the month, can’t wait for wave two of his album.

Jonny: Similar to Julian, I was instantly in tears when listening to John Mayer’s new EP, AND THIS IS ONLY PART 1 OF THE ALBUM!! MORE TO COME!!! I couldn’t help but feeling you would hear this track at the end of a Toy Story movie. Imagine this song playing, Woody holding Buzz Lightyear in his arms while he is slowing dying. My heart is shattering just thinking about it. The lyrics to this song are incredible and the whistling behind them is just the icing on the cake for the best song of the month.

Jeremy: It’s 5:00 am. I decide to listen to the new John Mayer. It seemed like a good idea. This song starts playing and I start getting flash-backs of every single girl I’ve dated since I was in middle school. Did I hurt them? Or maybe they hurt me? Either way the memories are overwhelming and I feel the need to text all of them. I group DM my exes - tell them they belong to me that goes on for forever. None of them respond. I’m left with tears and shattered dreams of relationships past. That being said, this song was my favorite experience of the month. John is a legend.

Jared: Do not listen to this song if you don’t want to cry!!! All I can say is that Mr. Mayer snapped on this track. Having been a fan of John Mayer for the last few years, I can honestly say this new EP is up to par with some of his best work. As Julian and Jonny mentioned, this song will make you feel as if you’re a character in Disney’s newest movie. You’re a bad person if you don’t like this song.

Honourable Mentions

Jonny: Running Back - Wale Feat. Lil Wayne

I know what all of you are thinking, Wale? Dude has been struggling since LeBron took his talents to South Beach (remember when all of you conveniently turned Heat fans that year?). I’m gonna be honest, I hated this song the first time I listened to it. But one night I was playing vids with my buddy Steve and he started mumbling the lyrics to this song so I’d thought to give it another listen, and it instantly got stuck in my head. In addition to that, I will take a verse from Weezy F Baby, good or bad, any day of the week. In the opening of his verse he spits: “These bitches sellin they souls / well I want my money back”, which cracked me up. Wale was one of my favourite artists in high school but his last project co-produced by Jerry Seinfeld entitled “The Album About Nothing”, didn’t work out as well as hoped, even though it was a clever idea. This song is a good step forward for Wale to get back to his roots.

Julian: Kelly Price - Migos Feat. Travis Scott

Don’t @ me, this song is an all time banger even though the other guys didn’t agree (these are the same guys who bump Ed Sheeran and Kehlani though). I will say I could easily of picked “Call Casting” as my honourable mention for the month because it’s impossible not to shout out every ad lib and interjection (BEAT IT UP) (EAT IT UP) (YEAH). While I felt this album was half 10/10 songs and half 6/10 songs I definitely feel like Kelly Price is the standout track for me - next to Bad & Boujee (the song of our generation). Travis Scott keeps impressing me more and more every year, just like the Migos.

Jeremy: All Year - Problem

I never really thought about listening to Problem. I don’t know why. But after seeing how cool he was in person I decided to give his music a real chance. And I don’t regret a thing. This song is an absolute BANGER. And after listening to it, you’ll really be questioning why you hadn’t heard it before. I think it’s a fitting way to start 2017. Thankfully Drake didn’t drop this month because we probably all would have had to put one song each from More Life as an honourable mention.

Jared: Electric (feat. Khalid)- Alina Baraz

Honestly the only reason I found out about this song is because of the Khalid feature, but nonetheless the collab between the two singers makes for one hell of a track. Something that really stands out to me about this song is the beat change ups throughout the song, specifically when Khalid starts to sing. This track is sure to take you on a rollercoaster of emotions and is one of my favourites from January.

[natg1rl-blog]

Bad Influence

It’s been a while since I shared a piece of ‘Little Black Book’ so this is a look into Chapter 3. Hopefully one day I can publish this bad boy and you’ll all be reading it on paperback! x

**

I’ve discovered that the anticipation of something bad happening is actually worse than the bad thing that’s actually happening, and I got to learn that first hand when waiting for mum to be tried in court. I was so thankful when I heard that the Judge was lenient toward the case seeing as though what she had done, she had done to protect her child. Even though she had broken the law and done a bad thing, the Judge and Jury could see that she was trying to stick up for her son when her temper unfortunately got the better of her. Of course a restraining order was placed against mum’s name, which made things hard considering we lived down the street from the victim. Mum also had to complete one hundred hours of community service for her crime, she didn’t get off completely Scot-free by any means.

     With my home-life turning into a gigantic soap opera, school wasn’t really the biggest issue for me anymore. Time was passing by quite fast and I had grown accustomed to my group of friends. So much so that I had almost become comfortable with my social status. That’s not to say I wouldn’t have given anything to change it back into the familiarity that was being popular, but things were different now and I was starting to accept that. As the second term came to a close I was excited to have the break from school work more than anything else. I was a good student, always had been. Even though I didn’t care too much about what I was learning I had always been a fast learner and I guess somewhat of a teacher’s pet. I always did what I was told and would never argue back, confrontation was not a part of my nature. It was very rare for me to even see a grade C or below on my report card. If there was a C it was generally given to me for Woodwork or P.E. I had gotten to a point where I felt as though I needed a break from being the best at everything. I had this urge to do something naughty, to revel in my bad side if such a side existed. Have you ever heard of the expression, be careful what you wish for? It was only a couple of days into the school break when I received an interesting letter in the mail....

     Back in primary school I had another friend whom I neglected to mention for a few different reasons. Her name was Sally and she had started at Xamill Primary a year after I did. Sally was really quite pretty but then again I had never seen her without a thick film of make up on her face. She wasn’t entirely thin but she had a certain curvature about her that drove the boys crazy. Let’s just say her ‘milkshake’s’ brought the boys to the yard. She wore her hair short, straight and black and she had really enchanting deep brown eyes which were illuminated even more by her dark eyeliner. Having that Queen Bee status in Primary School meant I was the first person to take Sally under my wing. I’m generally a good judge of character and there was something about her that drew me in. I learnt a lot from Sally during our friendship, more than I had ever learnt from my mum during our awkward birds and bee’s chats, or Sex-ed at school. Sally knew things. Oh, I mentioned my primary school crush dating two of my friends, Sally was one of them. It pained me to see the two of them together but I was never in a position to speak up about it. Randie was the most popular guy in our grade so stereo-typically he should have been with me, only I knew that if I caused any kind of confrontation, I was at risk of losing my popular status to Sally, and I would have died before I let that happen.

     Around the time the two of them were a couple, my sister and I were hanging out a bit more so she was often around at mum’s house. My sister is two years older than me and for some reason older women tend to appeal to younger boys. Mila was beautiful. I had always been jealous of Mila because she was born prettier. She was thin, tan and had gorgeous long brown hair. Sometimes I didn’t even believe that she was my sister because the two of us looked nothing alike. I was her polar opposite. She had tan skin, I was pale. She had dark brown eyes, I had crystal blue. She had beautiful long thick hair and mine would never grow past my shoulders. I remember the day I caught Randie cheating on Sally with Mila. I was put in an awkward situation because Sally was my best friend and I owed it to her to tell her what I knew, but then Mila was my sister and I knew it would cause complications. It just so happened that Randie decided he didn’t want to be tied down to a relationship anyway, so he broke up with Sally and unfortunately for Mila and me, he decided to be honest about why. In any event that ruined our friendship. It wasn’t me who had betrayed Sally personally, but she couldn’t be around me knowing what my sister had done so she left the school before our final year.

I hadn’t heard from her since that day, which is why I was surprised to find that she had written me a letter. The letter read:

‘Dear Bella. I wanted to write to you so that I could apologise for not speaking to you over these past two years. I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened with Randie, I don’t even blame your sister anymore. The two of us had an amazing friendship and I really miss your company. I hope that you can forgive me and that we can be friends again someday. If you feel the same way, you know where I live. Luv, Sal.’

I knew before even finishing the letter that I was going to forgive my old friend. I had wished for a little bit of excitement in my life and this was most definitely a sign from the big man upstairs.

     For the duration of the School holidays there wasn’t one moment that Sally and I spent apart. If I wasn’t at her place, she was at mine and it felt good to have her back in my life. After two weeks of rehashing the past, Sally began to flirt with the idea of transferring to Varlem Tophett High. I felt as though if she came to my school it was bound to be the answer to all of my problems. Sally was popular in her own right and whilst I wasn’t a confrontational person, she was, so I knew that Millee and her bitch friends wouldn’t be bothering me again anytime soon.

    The transfer ended up happening much faster than I anticipated and Sally was at my school before week two commenced. She and Renee picked up where they left off too and Sally also wasted no time making friends with the others. I felt unstoppable. I could see the looks and secret conversations Millee had with her friends whenever Sally and I would walk past. It rattled them and I enjoyed that immensely. They were now the one’s who were jealous. We had maybe gotten mid way through term three before Sally started to become a bad influence on me. Every now and again us girls would organize to have sleep over’s at each other’s houses. It just so happened that on this particular weekend the sleepover was to be at mine. I had invited Sally, Renee, Marley, Sarah and Becca. You may have noticed one name missing off the guest list. Pamela. I’m still not exactly sure what happened there, but somewhere along the line we drifted apart. We were all still friendly with her but she didn’t hang around with us as much, and we rarely ever saw her outside of school. Things were a lot more harmonious when she wasn’t around so I wasn’t exactly missing her friendship.

     It was a Saturday night and the six of us girls decided to walk down to the video store and hire a couple of movies to watch. A little bit of junk food, Coyote Ugly on replay and some good girl company was the only ingredients needed for a successful girl’s night in. On our way back from the store we were interrupted by a car full of teenage boys. The guys were yelling out derogatory things to me and my friends as we walked down a quiet back-street from my house, but I chose to ignore them. The other girls seemed to follow suit except for one in particular… Sally had a different approach.

‘Hi boys!’ She yelled out after them, seductively.

Of course receiving the attention they were after caused the driver to reverse in a reckless manner and push down hard on the brakes once they were level with us for the dramatic effect. The girls and I walked a little faster while Sally played into their hands some more. One of the passengers jumped out of the car and began walking with her whilst the driver sped away with the rest of them. There was no way in hell we were walking back to my house with a random.

‘Is she always so reckless?’ Marley whispered.

The five of us girls made some ground by speed-walking and we were now pretty far ahead of Sally and her new friend. I made sure to keep glancing back so that I knew she was okay, but she wasn’t afraid of being with the guy, nothing scared her.

‘Yeah she is.’ I answered.

Moments later the car came speeding back up the street again, and the guy with Sally jumped back into the car through the open window before the driver put his foot back on the gas and sped away once more. The girls and I slowed down so that Sally could catch up. I was still trying to process what had just happened.

‘What the hell?’ I couldn’t help myself.

‘What?’ She asked, grinning from ear to ear.

She had no shame.

‘Who was that, do you even know him?’ I pressed.

Sally laughed off my paranoia.

‘No, he was just some guy.’ She told us.

‘How old is he, do you know his name?’ I went on.

‘God Bella, what’s with the third degree? I don’t remember you ever being this uptight.’ She accused, embarrassing me in front of my friends.

‘Don’t you think that was a little reckless?’ I asked.

Sally didn’t answer this time but the smirk was still across her face.

‘How old is he?’ I asked again while the other girls remained suspiciously quiet.

‘He’s eighteen.’ She admitted.

My mouth dropped.

‘Eighteen? Does he know how old you are?’ I wondered.

‘I told him we were sixteen.’

She only effortlessly added three years to our real age. I shook my head and couldn’t help but laugh at her.

‘You are something else.’ I said.

‘Stop worrying. You’re going to have to get over it because I told him we’d go to his place tomorrow and have a few drinks.’

Going back to the, ‘my mum is a cool mum’ thing, she did let me drink. I wasn’t one to ever get absolutely plastered, I was thirteen, but from time to time she would let me finish off a beer, or maybe have a glass of champagne at a special occasion. I had never kicked back with a bunch of dudes and gotten completely wasted before though.

‘I’m sorry what?’ I asked, hearing her perfectly.

‘He only lives down the road and he seems like a really nice guy.’ She defended.

He didn’t look like a nice guy. He looked like a dero! From the glimpse I saw of him he had dirty un-brushed hair, was not clean-shaven, wore barely any clothes and apparently didn’t know what a pair of shoes was. The conversation didn’t escalate much from there once we reached my place again. I knew that the girls must have been thinking awful things about Sally and I really hoped they weren’t about to change their minds were our friendship was concerned.

The following morning after everyone had left; Sally pushed the idea of going to see this guy Joe.

‘Come on Bella, what’s the worst that can happen?’ She joked.

‘Don’t ginx us!’ I warned.

I do admit I often gave into her. I didn’t like being a spoil-sport and I think she knew it which is why she always got her way in the end. She remembered where Joe lived based on the instructions he gave her the day before. As we walked up the porch toward the front door I became really nervous. I had no idea what we were about to walk into. What if these guys were serial killers? Or rapists? I tried to shake off my nasty thoughts and give Joe the benefit of the doubt. Sally knocked softly on the front door and I stood slightly behind her, ready to leg it if need be. After the second knock we came to realize that no one was actually home. I breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that before we would get another opportunity to re-visit Joe, Sally would be over it. 

I was wrong.