#and ive already spent two hours colouring and shading him

[darkclouud9]

I miss them.

[myckicade]

Title: Impart to Human Hearts - Part Three Pairing: Coco/Reader A/N: Coco, Coco, Coco. The man is so over this Christmas shit, it hurts. I just wanted to throw this one in before the dinner tomorrow night tonight. :) . It didn't come out the way I had wanted it to, but feh. I have to keep reminding myself that these are for fun.

Teaser: Christ, he lives in a house with a china cabinet. How the hell did that happen?

Series: I - II - III - IV - V

Taglist: @caspertheassholeghost @loompyinaway @carolina412

Chaos. That's what this Christmas shit is. Complete and utter chaos. You've had Coco running to this place and that, picking up plates and napkins, decorations and good wine. Like, good wine. None a' that cheap shit he used to guzzle down in high school. The four bottles he'd picked up this morning came with a price tag that had made him want to drop dead, right there at the check-out counter. Honestly, he'd thought there was some kind of a mistake, but you'd been adamant that, yes, they were what you wanted.

"We're not cheaping out on our guests, Coco," you'd tutted, bouncing around the kitchen as you prepared a stuffed-something-or-other appetizer to go with a spinach-and-overpriced-cheese casserole. "This is a big deal for everyone's partners. We're finally getting to meet everyone."

Coulda' done that at a barbeque, Coco couldn't help but think. He's still thinking it now, as you lean over to retrieve a pie shell from the oven. Delicious a view as that is (your sweet little ass, not the damned pie crust, give the man some credit), it doesn't much help him with the rest of what you've been up to.

The dining room, for starters... It looks completely overdone, in Coco's opinion. The dinner is still a day off, and the table is already set. The tablecloth is a deep red, with a delicate gold trim, a perfect match to the rest of the holiday decor in the house. Some truly expensive looking dinnerware - just the right shade of off-white to pop against the tablecloth (your words, not his) - has been divided into place settings, enough for each invitee. And, according to you, there are spares in the china cabinet.

Christ, he lives in a house with a china cabinet. How the hell did that happen? A gun rack, now, he could totally work with that. Whole fuckin' wall safe, filled with every kind of toy the Military had made him so very fond of. He could lose a weekend, easy, setting it up, and perfecting the organization. Be a real help to him during these festive seasons, knowing he has options.

And, cue a horrified cringe. Probably a good thing he doesn't have that kind of access in his home.

Shaking that thought, Coco pushes himself away from the counter to pace into the living room. Christmas Hell Hole #2. You spent half an hour yesterday bitching at the throw pillows on the couch as you fought to stuff them into themed pillow covers. One has the silhouette of a reindeer, another a snowflake. The Christmas tree, which he had laboured over so intensely, has been trimmed with golden-coloured bulbs and strings of red beads. The lights are white, and come with a separate twinkle setting that will blind a man at twenty paces. The mantle has a faux-pine garland, entwined with white and gold ribbons, tacked all across it.

Really, he knows how much you miss being back home with your family, but Coco is beginning to feel like he's moved to the North Pole. Sure, you'd make a sexy Mrs. Claus, but there's no way in a finely-frosted hell he's putting on a Santa suit.

"Muñeca, why the hell we gotta' do this?" Coco whines. He hears you sigh from the kitchen, and tries not to roll his eyes. "I mean it, (y/n)! Look at this place!"

You scoff. "You got a problem with my decorating, Cruz?"

Coco scowls, his back to the kitchen. You'll never see it. Because, yeah, yeah, he's got a big problem with it. It's all you've thought about, it seems, since Angel's girl had dialed you up at the beginning of the month. You two don't even make it through the nightly news without chatter concerning The Dinner. He'd sooner starve, than continue living like this.

Ain't gonna' tell you that, though.

"Nah, babe, it's gorgeous," he replies instead, nudging against a potted poinsettia by the front door with his boot. "You did a great job."

Your response lacks in enthusiasm. You know, and Coco knows you know. "Thank you, Sweetheart."

*

"It's fuckin' ugly," Coco declares, aloud. Hey, it's the truth, and he has no shame in admitting it. Even if he is risking life, limb, and future sexual gratification in doing so... If word of this conversation ever gets back to you.

Already well-aware of her father's cowardice, Letty rolls her eyes. "It's not that bad, Coco."

"It looks like a herd of reindeer mauled a Macy's display, and shit it out in our living room."

"(Y/n) worked really hard on it," Letty replies, in your defense. And, a little bit of her own, too. Half of the choices in decor are her doing. She'll openly admit, if asked, that she enjoys shopping with you. (You ask her opinion on things, and don't just do whatever, despite the teenage grumbles that often leave Letty's mouth). She likes putting up decorations, and making cookies, even if the process has taught her that baking is decidedly not her forte. But, she's pretty sure you're having a blast, too. You've been all smiles, and giggles, and silliness. For how tense you've been, the last few months, it's been really nice to see. Even if Coco seems determined to run you down for it, the asshole. "And, besides, she thought you'd like the red."

"Red ain't the problem," Coco insists. And, it ain't. Honest. "Christmas ain't even the problem." He pushes himself away from the back of Letty's closed bedroom door, pacing the length of the adjoining wall.

Letty turns, where she is sitting at the edge of her bed, watching the man before her, carefully. "Then, what's buggin' you?"

Coco groans. "I don't get why we've gotta' do all this shit, y'know? Have everybody over to eat." He runs a hand through his hair. "It's just more trouble than it's worth. She offers to host, and I end up hangin' off the roof, trying to put lights on the house!"

"Oh, God," Letty mumbles, trying not to giggle. The idea of Coco holding onto one of the gutters for dear life is a holiday joy, unto itself. "Wish I'd been home for that." The glare she receives promises a tantrum. It's Letty's turn to sigh. She hadn't wanted to bring this up, but he's leaving her no choice. "You ever think, Coco, that maybe this dinner is (y/n)'s way of distracting herself from the whole baby thing?"

"What're you talkin' about?" Coco practically spits. Letty does her best not to fire back. Your advice is on repeat in her head, to remain calm when he gets this way. She's proud of herself, thus far. Letty takes a deep breath, and looks Coco dead in the eyes.

"I'm not dumb, Coco," she reminds the man, evenly. "I know you guys are having trouble with... Ugh, with making me a big sister." She doesn't want to think about that, she really doesn't. She's fine with having siblings. She just doesn't want to know about how. "I don't know if you've noticed, but (y/n)'s been a fuckin' mess, lately. Tense, not sleeping, distracted, any of that ring a bell?"

"That's exactly what I'm talkin' about!" Coco insists, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. "She's already worried enough as it is! Now, she's heaping it on with all this-this-... Fa-la-la-la-bullshit!"

"Actually," Letty continues sagely, putting on her best Adult Voice. "I think she's been doing better. I actually got to hear her laugh. It was awesome." She kicks back, falling onto her bed to stare up at the ceiling. "She obviously feels bad. Guilty, probably. And, planning a party is giving her something else to focus her energy on."

Coco pauses. Shit. Shit, he hasn't considered that, no. "You think?"

Letty scoffs. "Hell, yeah. It gives her a chance to feel good, while she makes other people happy. And, we both know how much she likes doing that." She shrugs. "Sorry, but... I don't really see any harm in that."

The kid makes good sense. It's just been so fuckin' hard, listening to you worry about burned vegetables, and mismatched napkins. And, two days before, you'd cried when you couldn't find your centerpieces. It had broken Coco's heart to hear, but... But, honestly, if he thinks about it, it's been better than hearing you cry over negative pregnancy tests, since the wedding. Hearing you sob about wanting to give up, and just buy the damned pies has been far less devastating than hearing you say you're going back on your birth control, because you can't face another 'failure'. You're still upset, at times, but you're not upset at yourself, or at him, or at the Universe.

And Coco's been a complete ass in making it that much harder on you. In complaining. In acting like you've done something wrong.

Fucking A, he's such a fucking dick.

Leaning over the bed, Coco places his hands on either side of Letty's head, smacking a kiss against her hair. "Thanks, Kid," he murmurs. Sometimes, he doesn't know where he'd be without this child of his. He prays he never has to find out.

"Yeah, yeah," Letty grumbles, waving a dismissive hand at him. The affection thing is a work in progress, and it still makes her a bit edgy. "Go make it right." Without another word, Coco makes his exit, and Letty sighs. This family thing is harder than it looks, too.

*

Placing your hands on your hips, you take a step back to admire your work. Three pumpkin pie shells, pre-baked to absolute perfection line the kitchen counter. The filling is in the bowl beside them, ready to be popped in the refrigerator for tomorrow morning's marathon baking session. Four different casseroles have been assembled ahead of time, likewise prepared for the oven. (All except for the green bean casserole that Angel's girl is making, as the thought of it, alone, makes you want to gag). The table looks beautiful. The candles will be delivered in the morning. Everything is as it should be.

This may be the best party you've ever put together. It's been hell, but it's going to be worth it, and then some.

You run the list of what's left to do in your head. Candles, bottle opener, serving platters, cheese platter. Nothing that you won't be able to accomplish. Everyone else is bringing their own dishes. You have serving spoons enough for each one. You are prepared.

What you are not prepared for, however, are the arms that suddenly sneak their way around your waist.

"Sorry, hermosa," Coco whispers against your ear as he wraps you up tight in his hold. You relax back in an instant, warm and comfortable. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Mm, don't worry about it." You tip your head against his shoulder with a sigh. This feels so good, after a hard day of housework, cooking, and general craziness. "I'm about done, anyway." Coco begins a gentle sway from side to side, the motion lulling your eyes to a close.

After a few moments, a soft kiss is pressed to the side of your neck. "Doin' okay?"

"My back is killing me," you reply. Coco's hands shift around your hips, in an instant, thumbs pressing at either side of your spine. The moan that leaves your mouth is almost filthy for how good it feels. "Nn, thank you."

"Least I can do." Coco's voice is small, and quiet, and you know what's coming. "I've been an asshole, the last couple a' days. I'm sorry, (y/n)."

Oh, Coco. You shake your head, a bit. You knew this was going to be difficult for him, adjusting to a household he isn't used to. It's your first Christmas together, and, yeah, you've probably gone a little overboard with the whole season. Coco's been so helpful, though, and you know his complaints only shoot out when he's overwhelmed. The tree has fallen on him twice, and he's had to replace a strand of lights on the fence line after the original ones went out. He's stood in line after line for your pick-up orders, food and decor and gifts, not to mention the panic you threw him into over the wine. And still, he's offered to come back and do more. This man is a gem, the perfect husband in every category that counts for you. And he's apologizing to you.

"God damn, I love you, Coco." You turn your head, and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for putting up with me."

"Nah, you know I'd do anything for you, reina." His thumbs press a bit harder at the space between your hips, drawing another delighted sound from your mouth. You can feel his lips curve into a smirk, where they rest against your shoulder. "Anythin' else I can do for my woman?" he asks, swaying with you again.

Oh, that's just dirty pool. You have a few things to do yet, before you can even think about going to bed. You have to find the napkin rings, and the place cards, and clean out the punch bowl for the eggnog-.

Oh, shit.

"You're gonna' kill me," you groan, hips moving in time with Coco's own. You slap a hand over your face, not wanting to request this, but... The man did say anything.

"Yeah?"

"I forgot the eggnog."

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 7

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7: Wicked game

(see chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: it’s time to come back to life, and sometimes it involves Neil dragging you to a social event

warnings: 18+, language, alcohol mention (beer is considered alcohol, right?)

author’s note: 3k words. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for that chapter, but they have a mind of their own, as always. 

Almost there.

The song for this part is Stone Sour - Wicked Game (acoustic, live)

Enjoy and let me know what you think, please? All feedback is greatly appreciated.

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas​ @neutron-stars-collision​ @ergunbilge​ @invertedneil​ @wanderedaway​ @i-wanna-b-yours​ @wonderwoman292​ @buckysgoldenheart​ @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver​ (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

It didn’t matter how many times you saw him do that, the effect the sight had on you was pretty much always the same. Filling your mind with thoughts that were quite counterproductive, one could say.

The veiny patterns covering hands and forearms. The long fingers running through the buttons. The tilted chin, extending the neck, drawing attention to that impossible jawline. The slight pout. The brows drawn together in concentration--

You smacked your tongue and shook your head

“Y’know what, those shirts of yours are so rude, but the way you wear them, the rolled-up sleeves?”

Neil looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, puzzled. “What about them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely disrespectful,” you sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame.

Playful lights danced in the blue eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased, giving himself a final glance-over before turning to you. “And what you’re gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” - you shrugged, crossing your arms - “because you insist on dragging me to a social event.”

The faint resentment ringing in your last words didn’t get lost on Neil.

“So boring of me,” he said as he closed the gap between you, trying to keep a straight face. He put his hands on your waist and smirked. “But maybe after that we can come back here and continue the conversation.”

As you fixed his collar, a shade of smile hid in the corner of your mouth.

“Really wanna listen to me listing all the things that drive me mad about you, huh?” you asked smugly, gliding your fingertips along the delicate stripes of the greyish beige shirt.

Neil’s thumbs brushed over your hip bones as he hummed, “I have a feeling it might lead to a rather pleasant conclusion.”

When you let out an amused scoff, his lips captured the snarky comment that was bound to follow. He pulled you closer and lifted you up, and the next second you were sitting on the edge of a vanity cabinet, breathless from the kiss, tugging at the striped shirt.

A buzz right next to you.

You jumped, startled, and glared at the phone. “Is it too late to tell Matthias the Uber driver that we’re not going anywhere?” you asked without too much hope as you nuzzled your face to Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent, unwilling to let this moment end too quickly.

Neil chuckled and stroked your arms. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

You still didn’t know where he was taking you - he’d assured you that it would be casual, and that was basically all you cared about. He knew you enough, and you trusted his judgement, after all.

“It better be,” you pouted, pulling back, but as soon as you met the bright blue eyes your heart sang in your chest. After spending all that time in the darkness, not sure if you’d ever see his face again, you caught yourself taking an extra second every now and then, just looking at him. How the light played on his features, now soft in the elaborately illuminated hotel bathroom. How his lips curled whenever he found your gaze. How utterly stunning he was.

Smiling gently, you ran your fingers through Neil’s disheveled mane, taming the blonde mess if ever so slightly.

“Let’s not keep Matthias waiting, then,” you sighed and slid off the cabinet.

-------

The afternoon was quite warm for late autumn. As you were arriving at your destination, you watched the sun shining through the scarce leaves left on the trees, adding vibrance to their colours. Too mesmerized to pay attention to the route, you recognized the place only when the car stopped. The training site. You turned to Neil in confusion, but he just wiggled his brows and proceeded to thank the driver and got out of the car. You followed him out and right through the gate of the now-empty paintball outdoor facility which served as a front for the agency’s base, hidden a bit further inside the forest.

“Picking up something on the way?” you asked, matching his pace as you strolled towards the training grounds.

Neil shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Not really.”

“Alrighty then, keep your secrets,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t we a tad overdressed for a little playground fun, though?”

“A rematch?” he pondered and smirked. “Didn’t plan on that, but it’s tempting.”

Indeed. “I’m kinda out of shape, but keep those baggy trousers on and I’m game - wanna beat you fair and square again.”

Neil let out an exasperated huff. “Baggy?! They might be a bit loose but --”

You giggled at his offended expression as he got busy looking down at the target of your remark, ready to defend his fashion choice. Your laughter was enough to stop Neil in his tracks, and when he met your playful gaze, he reached out and drew you into his arms for a tight hug. After a brief moment of perplexity, you eased into his embrace, moved by the force of sudden affection.

When he pulled back, you touched his cheek. “What was that for?” you asked, searching the blue eyes, but finding nothing but joy there.

“Being cheeky.” He scrunched his nose while tapping the tip of yours. “And brilliant,” he added, and for a second you were sure there was something else he wanted to say; instead, he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “And maybe stalling a minute longer before I’d have to share you with all these people.”

You gaped at him, about to ask what people, but Neil already grabbed your hand and led you around the corner of the building - and you heard them even before you spotted them.

“Oi, there they are!”

“Finally!”

“We’ve just considered sending a rescue party in case you got lost in the woods!”

The unexpected eruption of cheers and greetings made your fight-or-flight reflexes kick in, but as you instinctively took a step back, Neil squeezed your fingers reassuringly.  

A split-second exchange of looks.

All right?

When he saw your tiny nod, he let go of your hand, focusing on the team gathered at the makeshift chillout zone. “Not everyone has your poor sense of directions, Seb,” retorted Neil, flashing his teeth in a grin.

The young man’s protests got drowned in laughter as you approached the group together.

"Luckily not the case with our rogue here,” said Ives, elbowing his way in between other people. He shot you both a disapproving look, toned down by a smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. "Really, roofs? Didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"Me neither,” admitted Neil, going in for a clasp of hands and a brief hug. “When I saw that gap, I was sure that was it. Someone convinced me otherwise."

“The secret is to avoid looking down,” you shrugged, meeting the commander's amused gaze.

"Thanks for bringing our favourite nerd back in one piece." As Ives extended his hand, there was something serious about his expression, mixed with a sense of relief, and you realised he must have been in the response team Neil had called for help.

“My pleasure.” Beaming, you shook his hand. “Thanks for providing backup.” And scraping me off the pavement.

Neil’s gasp was almost theatrical. He smirked and nudged Ives lightly. “Aw, I’m your favourite?”

“Careful, that privilege may be revoked any minute,” grunted Ives in a weak attempt at keeping up appearances, but he couldn’t fool anyone. Now that you had a chance to observe them in the after-hours situation, the bond between the two men was clear as day, and your heart warmed up at the thought.

Waving back at Mahir, you scanned the group for other familiar faces. Wheeler, a couple of people you recognized from the HQ halls, and a bit isolated from the others - the big man himself, manning the barbecue station.

Overwhelmed by the attention you got from the team, you excused yourself and walked up to The Protagonist. You couldn’t help but smile at the confident vibe he radiated with as if he spent every weekend doing nothing but this.

“So dad of you, boss.”

He flopped a sizzling piece of meat to the other side, glancing at you humorlessly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with polite concern.

“Grand, healed up nicely, thank you.” You circled your shoulder and grinned. “Not in a marathon condition, mind you, but that’s not exactly new.”

“That’s good, Neil was worried about you.”

Not sure if it was the lack of eye contact or something else in his presence, but you decided to stop ignoring the gut feeling.

“You don’t like me,” you said, tilting your head. A mere statement of the fact; you weren’t hurt, only curious. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, just been wondering why.”

TP sighed heavily. And when he finally met your gaze, the dark eyes were sad, only deepening your confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Then something cracked and a shiver ran down your spine, because suddenly, in front of you there was a man who’d seen a lot, suffered too much, and cared even more. The weight of it all slumped his shoulders, and for a short while, he seemed almost helpless. Taking a quick look at the hollering group, he sighed again. “It’s not your fault, it’s--“ he hesitated, searching for the right words. As he found them, there was no sign of the vulnerability from a moment earlier. “It’s a stressful business.” He sent you a crooked smile. “And I’m still mad about that watch.”

The lie was obvious. But the things you saw in his eyes made your chest clench painfully, and…did you really want to know?

Besides, that might have been a truce offering, and you weren’t bent on holding a grudge. Not with him, anyway.

“Hey, wasn’t it technically your idea?” you grinned, shrugging off the weird sense of dread.

A smile finally reached the dark irises. “I guess it was,” he admitted and patted you on the arm. “There’s some beer in the mini-fridge, could you --”

“On it.”

When the clank of bottles sealed your peace treaty, you caught Neil’s happy stare. You pointed at the beer in your hand in a question and he nodded, so you grabbed one more and joined him and the others.

That unfortunate mission must have been some sort of rite of passage in these guys’ eyes because out of the blue, you were no longer an outsider. The Cavalry accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was a nice feeling, though. Like you belonged. You saw some curious glances, but they came from a good place, and even the suspicious voice in your mind gave in under the cordial, jovial energy of the group.

Soon enough, you were joking with a young medic, having a balancing stand-off with Wheeler, or listening to crazy stories from some old operations, until everyone had enough booze in their systems that allowed them to direct some of the questions to you, as well.

“So is Neil a decent locksmith now?”

You puffed out your cheeks in a musing grimace, but when you spotted Neil’s raised brow, you started laughing. “I’d say even more than decent. Honestly? I don’t think there’s much more that I can teach him, he needs to polish his skills in real life now.” Mocking a teary sniff, you added, “They grow up so fast!”

Nobody would know that you did so while actively ignoring a faint sting in your heart.

You refrained from meeting the attentive blue eyes, though. Just in case.

“Oh cool, then what about a little contest?” Seb clapped his hands cheerfully. “You versus Neil, we could time you, and to make it fairer we could put a blindfold on you --” as he stopped for a breath, he realized - with some help from Wheeler’s elbow to his side - the slight faux pas.

But you barely acknowledge a curse and a mumbled apology cutting through the awkward silence, too busy exchanging amused looks and stifled giggles with your student.

“Neil, would you like to explain?” you asked, schooling your features.

He bowed his head as if he was accepting a great honor. “Gladly.” Neil took a deep breath and his eyes lit up. “See, my dear friend, had you known anything about lockpicking, you’d learnt that sometimes it’s easier to do that with, for example, your eyes closed. You need to listen to what the lock has to say because it’s all about feedback--”

You watched as Neil gave a full lecture, citing your own words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He did it with passion and understanding of the craft you’d never dreamed to see in someone else, and yet was so familiar when it came to him. Absentmindedly, you placed a hand over your chest, as if it was enough to stop it from bursting.

You couldn’t be more proud.

Neil finished his rant and looked at you, only to be met with all the appreciation and validation in your gaze, and he beamed even wider.

“All right, damn, we can cover Neil’s eyes then,” sighed Seb, a total resignation in his voice sparking a roar of laughter from the group.

----

As much as you enjoyed the energy of the team, your social batteries were getting drained, and you needed a moment for yourself before you could carry on.

Walking right outside of the periphery of light from the garlands, you let your gaze slide across the training equipment, now barely visible in the moonless night. The leaves crumbled under your feet as you smiled at the memories. Maybe one day you would actually complete the full run? You pulled on the sleeves of your sweater, hiding your hands from the cold evening air.

“Mind if I join you?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Neil, keeping his distance, ready to give you space. With him, it was always in the details he’d picked along the way, effortlessly weaving them into everyday life. “Not at all.”

Neil perked up and joined you in the shadows, inhaling deeply.

“Funny how the scent of the forest changes with the seasons,” he mused and you grinned, turning his way.

“That’s what I call a pick-up line,” you snickered and drew a long breath. “But you’re right, it’s too easy to forget that once you become a permanent city creature.”

He chuckled and lightly rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked softly, fixing your oversized scarf.

“Yeah.” You brushed your cheek against his fingers, longing for his touch, now that you were somewhat hidden from the prying gazes. “You?”

Neil moved closer and wound one arm around your waist, then cupped your face gently, pressed his forehead to yours, and murmured, “Now I am.”

You hummed happily and slid your hands under his open jacket, resting them at his chest, and closed your eyes. Only then realizing how tense you were, you relaxed in his embrace, savoring his closeness. A steady heartbeat under your palms. The warmth carrying undertones of Neil’s cologne. A featherlike graze of his thumb over your cheek. His nose nudging yours.

But soon enough, you had to break a stolen moment. Trying to stifle a yawn, you hid your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he cooed, biting back a giggle. “That tired?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled against him on the verge of another yawn.

“Sure you are.” He kissed your temple. “The party’s almost over anyway, judging by decreasing amount of idiotic ideas per hour. Gonna call us a cab soon, all right?”

As you nodded, Neil tightened a hug and reluctantly let you go.

“Be right back, I’ll check if there’s any coffee left,” you said, gesturing towards the tables with beverages.

As your luck would have it, there was just enough for one sip.

A sudden sneer was enough to wake you up, though.

“Hell froze over.”

Mahir walked up to the mini-fridge to grab a beer and you met his mocking stare with furrowed brows.

“Vincent must be chattering his teeth now,” you joked, unsure where the conversation was heading. “Why?”

Mahir scoffed at the remark about your old associate, but he was still studying you closely, confusing you further. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Dude, you’re killing me today,” you sighed, wiping a hand through your face. “Thanks, but what for?”

“You and Neil?”

And when you shot him a puzzled look, he waved his bottle at the place where you stood together a moment before.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, you deadpanned, “Oh.”

Bloody hell.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole love thing anymore.”

The pulse pounded in your ears, although not loud enough to tune out the sirens blazing in your head.

No.

It came out harder than you felt it. “I’m not.”

No, no, no, no, no.  

Mahir grimaced doubtfully. “Uh-huh.” He looked over your shoulder at the team gathered together in the distance and raised a brow. “Does he know that?”

You couldn’t force yourself to follow his gaze. The panic drained your face of all colour, and that was enough of an answer for your friend.

“I see.” Mahir shook his head, losing the enquiring manner. His features softened as he patted your arm. “Neil’s a good guy.”

Please, no.

“They always are,” you choked out bitterly.

Not again.

“You know what I mean,” insisted Mahir, searching for your eyes.

That the history was not gonna repeat itself?

...or that he didn’t deserve any of it?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You faked a smile. “Excuse me.”

Pushing past him, you went inside the building. You needed to be alone.

Oh, the irony.

Weeks of deliberately avoiding the topic. Tricking yourself into thinking that you can keep it casual. That it didn’t matter that much. That it was nothing but a self-indulgent fling.

You couldn’t breathe.

Lesson learnt, huh?

Barging into one of the restrooms, you got to a sink. Clenching your hands on the cold ceramic, you fought nausea tearing through your body.

Pathetic.

The gasp for air turned into a sob.

...and then everything went quiet.

You raised your eyes to the mirror.

Your reflection was staring back at you with determination.

It was time.

(next chapter ->)

[nyangibun]

Little Wolf: Part IV

@jonsa-countdown

PART I | PART II | PART III - AO3 LINK

PART IV: MODERN UNIVERSE

Under the rare bout of sunshine, Winterfell looked beautiful. The old winding lane that served as the town’s high street had shops and cafes lined on either side. It was busy on a Saturday, but this wasn’t surprising. People from all over the world travelled to Winterfell – half of them for the beautiful hikes and the other half for the breathtaking winter roses that grew up the buildings like ivy vines all throughout the year. This was her home. No matter how far she travelled, she would always find her way back.

Glancing at Jon and the small smile on his face as he pushed the baby pram along, she suspected he felt the same. It was good to have him home. Jon was a Scottishman; this was where he belonged; this was where he needed to be to breathe. Sansa truly believed that.

The air was crisp, still cold and damp from the storm. Sansa’s nose was bitten pink from the wind, which was only soothed over by the encompassing heat of the sun. She placed a hand on Jon’s forearm, stilling him, and checked to make sure Chloe was all covered up. Her cheeks were a little red, but the wide smile she got when she bent over was a good sign the little wolf was enjoying her day out.

“She’s fine, Sansa.” Jon was looking at her with tender amusement. The expression did funny things to her heart, but she quickly pushed that away. “This is the third time you’ve checked on her since we got here.”

Sansa crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s cold, Jon. And she’s just a baby.”

“A Stark baby,” Jon pointed out. “The cold never bothered her anyway.”

“Did you just quote Frozen?” She furrowed her brows and smirked when his cheeks began to flush completely independent of the weather.

He rolled his eyes, but the flush was there and undeniable on his pale complexion. He started pushing the pram again and inclined his head away from her. “What else was I supposed to do with Chloe when she came over to stay with me? I don’t think Trainspotting is really her kind of thing.”

“She’s a baby. You could sit her down in front of a documentary on snails and she’d be riveted.”

Jon snorted, deciding it was probably best to ignore her teasing. She couldn’t help chuckling at that as she trailed after him. It was easy to forget sometimes how upside down her life was now, or how six months ago she’d been going out for cocktails with her coworkers and going on dates with men who were duller than a doorknob.

“Okay, where are all the baby stores?” He stopped in front of a traffic light and waited for Sansa to catch up. He had a perplexed expression on his face, while he looked from side to side as if he could spot the baby stores from where he stood. Sansa had the sudden urge to slip her arm through his and lean against his body, but that thought wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“I think down by Waitrose.” She pointed in the general direction they needed to be walking in and he nodded.

The light had just turned green when an elderly woman stepped forward. “Oh my, isn’t your daughter such a darling!” She gestured towards an elderly man, who presumably was her husband. “Albert, look. Doesn’t she remind you of Helena when she was a wee babe?”

The man grunted with a low rumbling, “aye.”

“How many months is she?” the woman asked, looking up at Sansa.

“Um, nine months. Almost ten months now.” She didn’t know why she felt she had to add that tidbit of information, but under the curious gaze of this woman, Sansa felt panicky and nervous, like she could see through them and know that Chloe wasn’t theirs and they were both frauds.

The woman made a delighted noise and began to coo at Chloe, who was lapping up all of the extra attention with babbling glee. “She has your eyes,” she said, her focus still on Chloe. “And your husband’s hair. I dare say this little girl will be as beautiful as her parents.”

Sansa flushed and chanced a glance at Jon, who was visibly just as uncomfortable as her. They had never been mistaken for Chloe’s biological parents before. Most of their time had been spent with family, who already knew the nature of their situation, but this was – it felt too much.

“Thank you,” Sansa said as sincerely as she could muster. “I, uh…”

“What’s her name?” the elderly woman interrupted.

“Chloe, ma’am,” Jon answered this time, seemingly able to regain his composure now. “Her name’s Chloe.”

“Oh, what a beautiful name!” The woman finally straightened up and grinned toothily, something mischievous on her face. “I hope you two are planning on giving her more siblings. Children always do better with siblings.”

“Edna, leave the poor kids alone,” her husband admonished. He tugged on his wife’s arm and led her away, not before throwing them an apologetic grin. “We’ll be going now. Have a good day.”

The silence between them felt pregnant with unease. Somehow saying they were going to start acting like Chloe’s real parents and being acknowledged as such were two entirely different things. It felt suddenly wrong, like she was betraying her brother and Margaery, that by letting someone believe that Chloe was her biological daughter she had stepped on their memory.

Jon’s hand slipped over hers, squeezing lightly. “They would’ve wanted this.” He wasn’t looking at her, but she still found comfort in feeling grounded to someone. As he began walking once the light turned green again, Sansa fell into step beside him.

“Chloe deserves to have parents who love her and we both do. Robb and Margaery aren’t going to be angry at us for that. You have got to stop beating yourself up every time you let yourself believe you’re her mother.”

“Easier said than done, Jon,” she said bitterly. “I still lost my brother. I can’t just forget that.”

“Yeah, well me too.”

Sansa glanced at him. The bitterness was there too in his words, laced with the same heart wrenching pain and grief that came with losing a loved one far too early. Jon met her eyes. He didn’t smile; he didn’t offer any words of comfort. Instead, he intertwined their hands and continued to lead them through the Saturday afternoon shoppers.

They finally made it to a brightly coloured store in shades of pink and blue without incident. The name on the sign read ‘Blossoms Baby & Kids’. In the years she had lived here, Sansa was positive she had never been inside this store before. Standing before it now with Jon and Chloe, it looked incredibly daunting and she had to swallow the desire to run away.

Inside, the store was even more colourful, festooned with everything you could ever want for a baby or child. There were toys, cribs, prams, clothes and various other things that she couldn’t make heads nor tails of. Sansa moved closer to Jon. “This is terrifying, right?”

“Worse than when Robb and I got stuck in that snowstorm.”

She chuckled and felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. Sansa nudged him and was about to tell him off for being a drama queen when Chloe started to cry excitedly. It appeared she’d caught sight of all of the colourful toys and wanted a first row seat. Sansa let go of Jon’s hand, as they shared bemused grins, and bent to pick her up.

“Alright, little wolf, what are you feeling today?” Sansa walked over towards the toys with Chloe balanced on her hip. “A pink unicorn?” Chloe turned her face and tried to lean forward towards a stuffed snowman. “You want this? Over the unicorn?”

“Probably because it looks like Olaf.”

Sansa hesitated and raised her brow. “Who?”

“You know, the snowman from Frozen?” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Are you telling me you didn’t know that?”

“I haven’t seen Frozen,” she admitted with a shrug. She picked up the snowman for Chloe, who immediately latched on. There was something to be said about a child’s innocence and how it could warm the hearts of even the most frigid. Chloe was a testament to that. Her resilience even though she had just lost bother parents was something that made Sansa’s chest tighten with pride. It didn’t matter that she was only a baby; Chloe knew. Of course, she knew that her parents were gone now. But yet here she was, smiling and giggling as she tried to stick Olaf’s head into her mouth.

“What?” came Jon’s incredulous reply from behind her. “But everyone’s seen it!”

Feeling much lighter than she had a few minutes ago, Sansa chuckled at Jon. “Well, I haven’t. Not all of us have time to be watching cartoons.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed. “How have I seen more Disney movies than the actual Disney Princess?”

“Excuse me?” Sansa would put her hands on her hips if her hands weren’t already occupied with keeping a wriggling Chloe from falling out of her grasps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon smirked, moving closer towards her, and tugged on the end of her plait. “If they placed Frozen in the modern universe, you would be a shoe-in for Anna. You’re basically a Disney princess, Sans.”

She crinkled her nose and shook her head to dislodge his grip on her plait. “Is it because we have red hair? Lots of people have red hair, Jon. That doesn’t make me a princess.”

“I think the fact that you made Robb and me call you Princess Sansa for about five years does.” He was still smirking at her, which was a look not wholly unbecoming for Jon.

“C’mon, Chloe. Your daddy is a numpty.” The words slipped out before she had any conscious thought to stop them. They both froze and stared wide-eyed at each other. Sansa desperately wanted to take it back. It was too soon. It was way too soon.

“Jon, I’m sorry. I didn’t –”

“We’re going to have to get used to this, remember?” He offered her his hand. “C’mon. Our lil’ wolf is eyeing that shelf of toys and I think she’s two seconds away from screaming for it.”

Sansa glanced down at Chloe, who was indeed staring forlornly at the toys, and sighed, relief flooding through her. She took Jon’s hand, interlacing their fingers together, and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

After an hour spent in ‘Blossoms Baby & Kids’, Sansa and Jon finally managed to pry Chloe away and emerge from the story with far more stuff than they needed. But this was a commitment. They’d already lost out on nine months of her life as her parents. They had a lot of catching up to do and they were going to do this right. Admittedly, Sansa knew material objects may not be the best way to go about this, but Sansa wanted the nursery to really feel like Chloe’s and not a substitute for a past she couldn’t get back – that neither of them could get back.

Abruptly, pulling her out of her revery, Chloe tugged Sansa’s plait undone and started chewing on the ends. With her other hand, she tapped on Sansa’s cheek repeatedly.

“Do you think she’s trying to tell me something?”

“Either she’s sleepy or she’s hungry,” Jon said. At that moment, Chloe tapped Sansa’s cheek as forcefully as a nine-month-old could, which still managed to make her flinch. “Yeah, she’s definitely cranky. We should get her home before she starts to cry.”

“Yeah, but first, umm… A little help?” Chloe had now somehow managed to tangle Sansa’s hair around her little fingers and the more knotted it became the more she pulled. “Sweetheart – ow. Chloe, love, please stop.”

Jon chuckled loudly as he gently wrestled the little wolf’s hands from Sansa’s hair. Once she was free, he took Chloe from her arms and returned her back to the pram. “Looks like Little Red Riding Hood was just attacked by a big bad wolf.”

“You’re mixing up your fairytales,” Sansa grumbled. The ends of her hair were wet with Chloe’s saliva and tightly wound around her bobble.

“Here, let me.”

Jon’s fingers worked deftly through the mess Chloe had made, and doing so with such care it made her heart beat loudly in her chest. It shouldn’t affect her so intensely when Jon was simply this caring with everyone, but Sansa still found it difficult to focus on anything but his proximity. She could feel his breath fanning across her face as he chuckled; she could see the different shades of grey in his eyes and the silver scar above his right eye. When he finally finished freeing her hair from its knots, he met her eyes, a heated charge passed between them, something so familiar yet so strange and new. His finger trailed lightly along the edge of her jawline.

“Sansa, I was wondering if –”

“Jon?”

And then just like that, everything changed. Sansa’s heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach and pain wrenched up her spine like she’d been struck. She immediately stepped away from Jon, glancing over his shoulder.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Val,” he greeted the blonde woman, as he turned around. “How are you?”

“Since when were you back in town?”

“A couple months ago now.” She could see his shoulders tense, but Sansa couldn’t find sympathy for him in this situation. She couldn’t feel anything, but white hot anger. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to come by, but… I’ve been busy.”

“Right,” Val nodded. “I heard. Sorry about –” Her eyes caught Sansa’s. “Your losses.”

Sansa pursed her lips. She didn’t want to acknowledge this woman’s apology, but maybe Jon was right. Maybe she was really a princess, dictated by the laws of societal expectations, because if she had it her way, she wouldn’t be smiling politely and offering her hand for her. “Thank you. I’m Sansa. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Not in person anyway,” Val said, throwing Jon a cryptic look, before shaking her hand. “Jon, come say hi, okay? It’d be nice to catch up. And Sansa, it was nice to meet you.”

When the woman finally disappeared back into the throng of people, Jon turned around. “Sans, I –”

“Take me home, Jon,” she cut in coldly, unable to really care right now what he had to say.

She could feel him looking at her, studying her in that way he always did, but a year was a long time. They were no longer the same people. Sansa was no longer that girl he once knew. This just made her realise that the past was meant to stay in the past.

“Okay,” he sighed, his voice soft and defeated. “Okay, let’s go home.”

[ziculous]

Ive found you {Namjoon}

Pairing: Namjoon x reader Genre: fluff Word count: 2000+ Proofread: No whoops Requested by a user on wattpad ________________________ ~Hollie (you)~ Today was the day, after a very long wait and saving up she was finally getting to travel to Korea. Excited, that would be an understatement to say how happy the young girl felt. Butterflies seemed to be flying free in the pit of her stomach, and although it came with a rather sickly and uncomfortable feeling it made the whole experience real. This really was happening and Hollie really was boarding the flight to the capital of South Korea, Seoul. The flight trip to South Korea was long and boring, well what could you expect on a flight trip? There wasn't really much to do, but she amused herself with listening to her music and looking over all the different things shed planned to do in advance. She even managed to get a few hours sleep on the plane. But once the flight trip was over and her feet hit the ground of a whole new country a spark of excitement hit her, a bubbly feeling spreading through out her as she rushed off to the hotel she'd be staying at for the short time. The first day in Korea was spent doing very little, the time was different so once she arrived it had been 7pm so she really couldn't do that much. But the small amount of time she had was spent at a restaurant not to far from the hotel the young woman would be staying at. And once shed finished the new and exotic dish it was back to the hotel to rest. Day two was spent seeing a few different things from her list, going shopping and trying a whole range of different delicious treats. Everything was so different from England, from the beautiful culture and language to the various different types of mouth watering foods. A brightly coloured shop caught her eye and soon she was standing outside the shop window, hands gently pressed against the glass as she peered down at the array of luxurious chocolates and candies. "Wow," the small whisper of admiration slipped past her parted lips, she just had to try some of the delicious looking treats. With that thought in mind Hollie made her way to the pastel pink door, pulling it open just as someone was walking out. "Umpf," a grunt came from a male voice as the two collided in both of their rush to do something, both bodies stumbling backwards yet no one being hurt luckily. "Sorry." "No, my fault," Hollie quickly waved one of her hands, finally glancing up at the much taller young male. It was hard to make out what he looked like due to a face mask covering the lower half of his face and a hat shadowing his eyes. But the little of his eyes she could see it was clear that they were a very beautiful shade of brown. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I was too eager to buy some of the yummy looking candies," a small but sheepish chuckle followed as she gently pushed her blonde hair back out of her face. "Me neither, I just wanted to get everything done while I have the time and everywhere is quite," the young man seemed to smile underneath the face mask, his eyes crinkling in a cute and adorable way. "So I really have to go, I'm sorry again." And with that the two said their apologies once again and bowed before bidding farewell, the mysterious male zipping off down the street and Hollie disappearing into the luxurious candy store. But little did they both know that they'd bump into each other again that day. The day was coming to an and, people rushing around to get last minute shopping or trying to make it home to their families. But here Hollie was, two bags of a range of different things in each hand. She may have gone a little overboard with picking out cute gifts for friends and family, and buying some of the cute outfits she'd stumbled across at a rather adorable clothing store. One more stop was on her list before shed call it a day; a cute cat cafe located not too far from the hotel. Hollie couldn't help but hear a faint screaming of voices as she made her way down the street, the sound growing louder and louder until she'd realised that the sound of screaming was the overly excited sound of fangirling. The young woman whipped around just in time to see a rather panicked looking male running towards her, and being the type of person she was there was no way that she would let the girls do this to who she expected was an idol. "Yah! Stop!" She stepped in front of the panicked young man and held her hands out in front of herself which caused the crowd of young girls to come to a stop. "Oppa! Oppa!" Some yells came from the group, "I love you, oppa!" "Oppa, be mine!" More shouts sounded which caused Hollie to furrow her eyebrows at the utter disrespect these girls were showing to someone they claimed to idolise and love. "You all need to stop and grow the hell up! This is not how you treat a human being, it's disrespectful and you all should be ashamed of yourselves! Chasing someone through the streets and yelling things like that, how rude and outright creepy!" The tone of her voice made it clear she wasn't messing around and she meant every word of it. "Now scram!" The crowd of girls mumbled a few disagreements but they left as commanded, all shuffling off in different directions. But once she was sure all the fangirls had disappeared off and non were creeping around, Hollie turned to face the poor guy and noticed it was the same young male shed bumped into. "It's you," they both said at the same time while pointing at each other, and this small coincidence ended up making them both laugh at the silly actions. "Thank you, for that. It might not seem like a big deal to you but it was to me, as anything could have happened if they would have caught up to me. So thank you," the gratefulness in the young males voice was definitely hearable, his hand reaching up to gently tug the face mask down to reveal a chubby cheek dimple smile. Ands that's when it hit her. It was no other then the leader of Bts, Kim Namjoon. "Namjoon," she pointed out stupidly, as if he didn't know his own name. "I know you," again with the blankly pointing things out, oh how she'd regret this when the shock had drained away. Namjoons face fell, a look of panic and dread forming on his previously delighted features. "Please, no more. I can't deal with more screaming and pulling out of me, please." The fact he pleaded for her not to scream and begin pulling him around in excitement was truly saddening, he must go through fans being overly excited and pulling out of him on a regular. "Don't worry," she began and flashed a warm and reassuring smile. "I'm not like that, I have respect. You are human, like me and everyone else. I'm not going to treat you any differently to how I'd like to be treated." With that she made a small hand gesture as she began to walk. "Come on, I'm going to cafe and I don't feel safe leaving you after that. You can call someone to pick you up from the cafe." The two shared conversation on the short trip to the cat cafe, learning small things about each other and even cracking some jokes. It was fun, and Namjoon actually felt more human around a fan. Not that he never did around his fans, he loved them more then anything. But of course he'd be treated like an idol, like he was better then them. And he didn't like that, the fans who spoke to him on a normal level always seemed to stick with him. But this girl, she was something completely new. They both bought coffee once inside the cat cafe, sitting on the large cream coloured couch and each getting a very cuddly kitty to pet and play with. And for the first time since shed helped in the two stopped talking, only to admire the soft kittens at their feet or curling up next to the two. "So, have you texted someone to come pick you up?" Hollie asked as she gently pushed her fingers through a fluffy ginger kittens fur, her gaze soon shifting from the kitten over to Namjoon who was playing with a hyperactive tabby. "Mhmm," Namjoon hummed, his lips curling up into a wide grin to flash off his cute dimples as he tickled the kittens tummy. "I'll be picked up in a few minutes, so I'll be safe and you can go home." He glanced away from the kitten to look at the girl sitting next to him with a gentle smile. "Thank you, for keeping me safe." She returned the smile and bowed her head, her bangs falling down into her face as she began to speak, "it's honestly nothing. It's the least I could do." Namjoon reached a hand out to gently brush the girls hair from her face, lightly brushing the back of his hand against her soft cheek as he did so. They locked gaze and she could have sworn the whole world froze in that moment. And then he was leaning in, only inches between the two of them and- "HYUNG! ARE YOU OKAY?!" They both shot apart as the rest of namjoons band members poured into the cafe, followed by a few body guards. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Namjoon reassured the rest of the panicked young males, standing up and brushing himself down to get all the cat hairs from his clothing. "Come on you, you're in so much trouble for going out alone," a male with plump and thick lips said, who Hollie recognised as the eldest of the group, Kim Seokjin. "Fine, fine," Namjoon grumbled, a look of anxiousness mixed with annoyance forming on his face. But he went the door with the others, stopping to look back at the girl who'd helped him. "Thank you," and with that the cat cafe went back to the quiet and peaceful place. ~~~ A week, that's how long Hollie had been back in England. And it already felt like she'd been away from the beautiful county of South Korea for more then a century, her mouth watering just at the memory of the foods she could no longer get. But she was happy to be home, back to the place she knew best. A small sigh left her lips as she messed on her laptop, sprawled out on her bed which was now full of stuffed toys that had been purchased at many different store in Seoul. But then something caught her eye on Twitter, a vapp link an army had posted for the live interview Bts were doing. She quickly clicked to open the link, turning the volume on the laptop up and sitting back to listen. A smile never seemed to leave her lips as she watched the boys laugh and mess around, turning the volume down every time Hoseok would begin screaming happily and excitedly. But then they were asked about relationship interests were and if anyone had ever stood out to each of them. Being the leader, Namjoon got to answer first. "Someone actually did. Though I never got her name or a way of contacting her, which I regret. She was kind and sweet, and got me out of trouble. Plus her voice was adorable, she had a cute English accent," he chuckled and flashed the dimples she loved so much. Everyone ooed at this, all the boys nudging an teasing Namjoon playfully. But Hollie knew it was aimed at her, and she could feel her cheeks heating up instantly. Then she was hit with the thought of telling Namjoon who she was, reaching out to him and letting him know it was her. With a nervous swallow she clicked onto the bts Twitter page when the live interview had ended, beginning to type a message in Korean. 'Namjoon...I'm here, it's me. The girl from the cat cafe.' Then she waited, but to her surprise she got a reply relatively quickly. 'I've finally found you.' _________________________ My requests are always open, though it takes me a while to write them. If you want your request done faster then tell me what exactly you'd like, not just 'Namjoon please' and if you want the reader to be you or not. Thanks.

[hellogreenergrass]

Signy Island - Week Seven

22nd Jan – Sunday

Lie ins are lush. I feel renewed. This last week Ive been firing on ½ my cylinders I think. Not sure why, but after a month of full speed, I think I needed to take my foot off the peddle. I’ve been effectively part time this week, with days out to help Stacey not counting as work. But today I will end an easy week with a flourish. I will have A WHOLE DAY OFF. No lab, no thinking of work, no field treks. Just cooking, some rowing, writing and photography. Stacey took my early this morning as she had to get up early anyway to sort out some krill samples (she does this so the rest of us dont have to endure the stench that seeps out from her lab!). I owe her bigly. Oh yes, and Donald Trump was sworn in on Friday. I feel like we are entering a dystopian novel. He was greeted by ½ million people marching in protest through Washington DC. It will be an interesting presidency. A few weeks ago, we all made wishes as we threw wood into a fire and collectively decided that we wished a rapid and ultimately dooming impeachment upon him…

I’ve been drawing most days, but on the whiteboard in the living room as well as my sketch book.  It started as a small pic of something for whoever was on earlies that day. Then Stacey asked for a woodland as she missed trees, and I drew a landscape of a birch stand next to a river that wound down from some hills in the distance. On the other side of the river stands an old oak tree with branches that reach out over a waterfall. Since then, each day I add something else at the request of whoever is on earlies. We now have bluebells and harebells, sheep, a wolf, a peacock, a monkey, highland cows, a llama, a rabbit, and a bear. Iain & Stacey drew me a small hedgehog and some butterflies last night. Looking at it one night, Matt said he’d like me to do something for the new base they are building in the next few years. He will give some thought to what. Nice to think my work would be here even if I am not!

Meowntains  - new word combining two of my loves, cats and mountains. If there is a heaven …

24th Jan

This month is flying by! Cant believe its almost February. And Im almost 34. Jeez. Have been a bit slack at writing in this lately. I put my diary in a drawer in my room and whenever I have the presence of mind to remember it, I either couldn’t be bothered or get distracted en route. So now Im making an effort over brekkie.

The last few days have largely been lab/office based. I spent Monday trying to update my field plan for the coming month and reworking some experiments. The grid plan has had a reboot, less elegant now, but also less work. I hope.  I’ve been reading the work of a chap called Smith (we don’t do first names in scientific literature!) who has been working on Marion Island in the sub-Antarctic Indian Ocean area. His work spans 30 years from a word mapped food web to today, actual raw data on the energy and nutrient flow on the island. I’d love to do something like that here on Signy. He compiled data on all the input from major wildlife contributors and how the plants use it or lose it. Where it runs off the Island or gets blown back in, and the likely fate of it in the oceans. Science like that makes me heart all a flutter!

Aqlima and I went out to look for adult midge on Monday, to no avail. Although she really enjoys looking for them as she works with essentially invisible bacteria, so bugs are massive and remarkably charismatic for her! I think the adults are finished now. Where they go to die I couldn’t tell you as I’ve stopped seeing them in my soil samples too. Add that to the bank of mysteries and unanswerable questions I am accruing this season. I’ve also started going out to collect a species of mite for Scott (my boss back in Brum). He wants to do some population genetics on them. But whilst Ive started collections, Im not sure we can amend my permit again to take them off the island. Can but ask though.

Iain and I spent a few hours out yesterday getting in the last of the soil cores. Sun shone, the wind blew and the innuendo flowed! Down at the site in the unfortunately named Gash Cove, we went down onto the rocks and stood in the sun watching the huge swell roll up a slope of glistening rock the colour of titanium and almost iridescent.  It was a slab of mica-schist, mica being the mineral that gives the glitter to eye shadow. It had been buffered smooth by the waves who slid up the slope many meters and then recoiled back to the ocean excessively exposing an area of rocks and shore rarely seen, like the draw back of a tidal wave, or the curled snarl of lip. It was hypnotic. No furries around here, which is odd. In fact numbers have dropped off again, which Im told is unusual.

Im off to Gourlay today. Day out on my todd. The sun is shining, but its still blowing a hooley. I’ll collect that mite (Alaskozetes antarcticus) and spot sample the route for my midge along the way. Have lunch at the huts out there and see the penguins, then pop down to Cemetery Flats on my way home for more samples. Just me myself and I. Should be a nice day out J

26th Jan

I twisted my ankle!! Not even a little bit, but a proper sprain with swellings and everything! I’d been to Gourlay, hiked back and collected all the samples. Then as I stood at the top of the Stonechute, the final rock and scree descent to base, I recalled Stacey’s recent tale of her twisting her ankle just meters from base whilst carrying a heavy load. It was just a 2cm drop off a rock, but put her off her feet for weeks. I pondered this as I heaved my loaded rucksack on, weighed down by kilos of soil samples, decided not to withdraw my second walking pole and dove down the chute. Despite being just a few hundred meters from home and the first and last part of everyone’s day out, it is one of the riskiest bits. Not least because as well as being steep and loose, it is often full of fur seals. And it was furries that I was checking for as I misplaced my footing and went over on the side of my foot.

I knew immediately that it was not good as I sat trying to catch my breath that had just been dragged from me by the rushing and unweilding pain. Not again I thought. Just last July, I’d gone over on my left leg and torn any remaining shreds of ligament and cartilagein my knee whilst up in the mountains of Norway and out on my own. At least this time I had VHF radio and base in sight. I realised I was going to need help. No way was I carrying that bag across the boulders of the high-tide route. I called in and Alex and Stacey came out to help me back down. I slowly and carefully negotiated my way back, and an hour of ice and elevation followed by a shower seem to have eased it a bit. As have the painkillers. And the 2 glasses of gin I just had. So now I feel just fine!

27th Jan

Woke to stiffness and a substantial amount of pain this morning, but thankfully this eased as the day went on. Although the swelling has peaked and there is some bruising coming through now. I’ll be a few shades of purple soon. At least I actually did something, hate to think Im being melodramatic! I have to try and go out to do some field work tomorrow though, not sure how likely that is, I can’t walk properly. I’ve prepped the ion-exchange membranes already and they have a limited amount of time to be used you see. I did the last of the work whilst watching Seven Years in Tibet tonight in anticipation of being able to at least stagger along in the field with some back-up tomorrow. Great movie, and by God that man. I swear Brad Pitt must have hovered up all the good-looking genes in his family for the best part of a century. The mind boggles. Speaking of good looking men, I spoke to K today. He’s been offered a new job! Interview was at 11am, with two others to follow him and by 2pm they’d made up their mind and called to offer him the position.  I’m not surprised, he has that effect on people ;-)

Wind is still blowing hard and finding its way into the cracks and gaps in the seams of the cabin. Makes the whole place scream and whistle all the time. Some flights from Punto Arenas in Chile to Rothera on the Peninsular have been delayed. I wonder if they have the same weather system. Few thousand km away though. Its been quite unstable the last few weeks, but we are about to enter the warmest month of the year soon, so at least it may stop snowing even the wind keeps up its run of 20+ knots!