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reidecorating · 5 years ago

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Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

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blixeon · 5 years ago

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Ghost Hunting Headcanons/Phasmophobia AU with Douxie and fem!Reader

- A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about this kind of stuff and I'm writing based off of the sheer willpower of memes, what I've learned from playing Phasmophobia for a month and the power of inspiration to write odd hcs (and AUs apparently) at 1:30 am

Warnings: ghosties

You're both balls-y as hell and like to out dare and out do the other

"I'll give you free hot beverages from the café for a week if you stand in the basement alone, in complete darkness for 10 minutes"

"Don't tempt me Hisirdoux-"

You smirked before adding, "You know I'd do it anyways without the bribe~"

Douxie would raise an eyebrow at you in amusement, letting out a chuckle

You took up his offer and make your way to the basement

Low-key got bored and nodded off for a bit, lasting well over your 10 minutes of agreed upon time

Douxie starts getting worried when you don't come back up and makes his way down to look for you

"Y/N? Where'd you go, love?"

Since you'd only been nodding off and weren't completely out, you hear his voice and footsteps making his way down the stairs towards you and decide to take it upon yourself to give him a little spook

He lets out an alarmed yelp as you jump at him from the shadows

"Bleeding balroths! Y/n, don't do that to me-! I thought something happened to you.."

You let out a light chuckle but apologize for making him worry

It's dark in the abandoned house you're ghost hunting at, and you've got nothing but your flashlights to guide you along in your nightly quest (you'd both agreed it be more fun if magic was off limits)

You liked to hold onto Douxie's sleeve while exploring, not out of fear but just because it was nice knowing he was there

Douxie prefers that you hold onto his sleeve anyways, he'd much rather be prepared to break your no magic rule to protect you on the off chance that whatever you're out looking for wants to cause harm

Plus, it's comforting to him to know that you're close by and that he doesn't need to keep checking that you're still there since he can feel you tugging at his sleeve

He checks anyways

"I bet you won't take home that string doll we saw hanging from the doorway on the way in"

"Oh, do you now?"

Despite not being able to see eachother's facial expressions in the dark, you can both feel the grin radiating off the other's face

"Arch might make me burn it if I do"

"Everyone knows you can't burn haunted things and be rid of its evil"

"Fair enough. You'll have to remind me to pick it up on our way out then"

You and Douxie ended up going for impromptu ghost hunts so frequently it became sort of a nightly tradition

Douxie enjoys it more than he cares to admit, but it's mostly because he enjoys spending time with you on these not so traditional dates

You can tell he enjoys it and decide to put some money into a few pieces of proper equipment, even if it's just for fun

Most nights, the two of you never actually find anything, it's just fun to be out together past midnight, looking for ghosts in abandoned places

When you do see something, it's usually just goblins or shadow mephits

However, sometimes you get lucky and something supernatural sets off your gear

"Took the spirits bloody long enough!"

Heavy footsteps echo from the floor above, followed by some low but faint off-tune humming

Queue creepy whispering and heavy breathing down your neck that is most definitely not Douxie

"Please don't eat my ass demons"

Douxie's flashlight starts flickering, so does yours, signalling that the spirit is hunting

"Oh.... fuzz buckets-"

He quickly guides you to one of the rooms you passed earlier, one that still had a door attached to its hinges

You close the door behind the two of you and wait out the hunt in silence

You wait for what feels like forever before you confirm that you're in the clear

Douxie moves to open the door and peers out into the hall with his dim flashlight, pulling you along with him once he deems it safe

You guys are surprisingly deep into the house at this point and decide to head back for safe measures

The front door of the run down house is in sight at the end of the seemingly endless hallway, it looks impossibly far away. Maybe it's the light?

As you head towards the door, the floorboards creak just ahead of you and Douxie

A slim dark figure flashes in and out of view, making its way towards you two, long slender arms outstretched towards you

Douxie moves to put a protective arm around you and you can faintly see the tattoos on his arms light up under his hoodie

"Shall we make a break for it, darling?"

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as the two of you dash for the exit

On your way out you remember to grab the string doll hanging in the doorway, as a trophy of sorts for surviving the night

The two of you keep moving until you're a safe distance from the house before you stop

As your pace slows, you notice the faint glow of Douxie's tattoos fade away

"Now THAT is how you spend a Tuesday night"

He laughs at your enthusiasm, finding it rather charming how you react in the face of possible danger

Now out of the darkness of the house and outside in the light of the moon, it's much easier to make out the expressions on his face

Douxie stares back at you with adoration in his eyes as you do a twirl in the cool night air, your laughter forming a small cloud as it echos into the night

He makes his way over to you as you slow from your spinning, wobbling a little as dizziness clouds your head

"Whoa there, take it easy. Just because we escaped a possibly blood hungry demon does not mean that you're invincible" he says, steadying you on your feet

You let out a chuckle, "I suppose not"

Your spinning had lead you to the dead center of a moonlit clearing

Douxie pulls you in for a kiss, sealing the end of your ghost hunting adventures

For now that is.

Who knows what tomorrow night will bring~?

A/N: Sorry that turned into a half assed one shot lmao, it's a lot longer than I intended it to be too ^^; I hope it's alright though! I haven't written anything in ages, let alone an x reader lol

New weird headcanon that came completely out of pocket while writing this is that Douxie's tattoos light up when he's preforming certain spells O-O

#douxie x reader thoughts #douxie x reader #douxie #hisirdoux caserpan #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader headcanons #ghost hunting AU #Douxie x reader Phasmophobia AU #toa #tales of arcadia #wizards #3below #trollhunters #wizards: Tales of Arcadia #toa wizards #douxie x fem!reader #douxie x y/n #please don't eat my ass demons

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blizzardfluffykpop · 4 years ago

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M&M’s

Summary: Need a tutor? Well, you’ve come to the right school, we have just the one for you. And he’s attractive too.

Do or Not Series

Fluff

Word Count: 2,346

Hongseok X Reader

Of all my time at school, I never thought I would need tutoring. I was an A+ student when I started failing my classes. My grades were in the trash, and I had no idea how to improve or even raise them. How do you even study? Why is college structured like this? UGH! So now here I am sitting in the Dean’s office listening to them preach about how I need to learn from this person to pass. That they won’t hold it against me if I pass because of this tutor. All I have to do is pass the exams, and if I pass. I will move up to the Sophomore year. How am I supposed to pass a class that I’m not participating? And who is this person they are setting me up with? As if to answer my question, they say, “He should be here any moment.”

Like on queue, the door opens to reveal a rather attractive guy. They expect me to be able to study next to him? Oh god, I am so screwed, even worse than I was before. Okay, (Y/n), put your game face on and act like he does not affect you. “This is your tutor, Hongseok, and Hongseok this is (Y/n). I think you two will do well together.” We exchange a polite ‘hello’. Then the Dean tells him what the expectations are for the both of us. And I cannot help but feel my anxiety spike at each time he mentions ‘study’, ‘quiz’, and ‘pass’. What happened to cruising through school? Why is it no longer easy to pass? What did I miss when I was younger?

I was missing the old school structure. That I was memorizing what they said to forget it later. Because back then, as long as I knew the basics, I could pass. It wasn't like those classes were hard either. They repeated the same things over and over. So it was easy to remember, Hongseok had explained to me at our first meeting in the library. He wanted to know why I was failing and what made me remember best. I shrugged and said, 'probably repetition and listening' I wasn't sure, but that was the best guess I had. I never thought of ways to study because I never needed to beforehand. He grinned, “I know you wouldn’t believe it, but my first year here, I didn’t study. I didn’t know how or what worked for me or how I even learned. It took me to the last semester to realize what it was. Once it clicked, it was too late, and I barely passed my exams. To make up for me failing everything else, they asked me to tutor someone.” While I couldn’t believe my ears, something in my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Thus I decided that he was my best bet to make it into my sophomore year.

The following Wednesday, we are stuck inside the library again. When we get settled in our seats, he pulls out two packages of m&m’s. “What are those for?” I ask, and he shrugs and says, “You’ll see.” I pull out my books, a pencil, and a notebook. I’m worried he will look down on me for not having any past homework or past tests. But I threw them all out in exhaustion and frustration. I couldn’t deal with that massive amount of failure. But rather than saying anything, he pulls out some flashcards and a calculator. “Let’s start with math.”

Every time I got a question right, he gave me an m&m. My stomach growled at me every time I would get something wrong and lose out on an m&m. Not that I couldn’t reach in and get one, but the m&m's are rewards for whenever I get something right. Plus, he would give me his charming smile every time I got something correct, so I strived to get them correct.

It wasn’t until we finished math and science and we were walking out together. That I noticed, he was catering to the way I learned. Repeating steps with me or asking me the questions out loud and going through the steps with me. Whether it be an example or how to fix my mistakes, my heart skips a beat as he asks to walk me home.

"So, do you like university other than this?" I shrug, "It could be better, but generally I like it. Everyone I met is kind, like my roommates Changgu and Yanan. Like you're kind and sweet, I wanna thank you for helping me out." He grins, "You're helping me out too. I don't think either of us wishes to repeat Freshman year." I laugh and agree, "What about you? Do you like it here?" He shrugs, "It's okay. I don't have a roommate, but I have quite a few friends. So it helps, plus once you know how to study, it makes it so much easier." I laugh, "Yeah,... if I ever get to that point." When we reach my dormitory I tell him, "This is my stop." As I head inside, he yells, “I’ll see you this Sunday for History and [Subject].” I yell back my agreement and walk up the stairs to my room. I thought this would drag and not want to show up. But he makes me look forward to studying with him. Throwing my finished m&m bag away, I walk to my dorm with a proud smile on my face.

Like clockwork every Wednesday and Sunday, I spend the whole afternoon studying. And he would ask me to study for little quizzes that he would give me on Thursdays. They are over everything we have ever been over together. With each test I passed, my confidence grew, and so did my feelings.

Out of all the days that I spend with him, Thursdays have to be the hardest. With each test, I take the harder they become. I feel like my soul almost leaves my body every time he grades them. How his face turns up in cute ways, trying to figure out my process. Or when I get something right, he sends me a beautiful smile or his pout when I miss a question. His faces make my heart flutter while my stomach wants to throw up from fear of failure. Between the two, I can never seem to stomach Thursdays.

While I have learned my study pattern, I still have to pass this course with him or I fail. While I’m taking a quiz, three Thursdays before my exam, he tells me. “I can already tell you that you are going to succeed with flying colors. So if you fail this quiz, take it with a grain of salt. You have to fail sometimes to succeed.” The first page was easy I knew all the answers without a problem. I rushed through them, and the next page was a little harder. When I got to the eighth page, I was starting to question whether I was studying. What does the eighth number of pi have anything to do with this course? I wish to cry as I take my best guess, which is all I can do when I reach the tenth page. I sigh in relief, it’s the last page it can’t be that hard, can it? Oh, yes, yes it can. “If you take the 4th number of the last answer. [Which I am positive I did not get right, considering that I only gave a two-digit answer to the last question]. Exponentially expand it by twenty-two. What is the number you get?” And that is the first part of the ten parted question. My brain craves a nap and a family-size bag of m&m’s.

By the time I finish the last page, I am running on one brain cell. That is running around, throwing all the files in my brain into a shredder, and giving up. How did I not know a single answer after the third page? His face is in a pout after the second page, and my heart breaks. I don’t want him to disappoint him. I should study harder to make him proud of me. I groan internally, this is going worse than I expected. “Out of thirty questions, you got seven right!” He says in a cheery tone, and my heart falls out of my body, and my soul has ascended.

“Remember what I said when you started taking the test?” I rack my brain for answers and find nothing. I shake my head 'no', and he pouts, “Aw,... Well, I said take it with a grain of salt. Maybe some quizzes are made impossible.” My jaw drops, “You did that on purpose--!” He shrugs, “Did I?” He makes me rethink what I said, and I pout and cross my arms over my chest. He hands me a pack of m&m’s, “Maybe study harder.” He winks, and I push him to the side when we get up to leave the building. “You know you passed the hardest question on the quiz, right?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “What?” He grins, “None of your work made sense, but in the end, you answered four on the last question, and that was the right answer.” I smile, “Sometimes taking your best guess works. Also, four happens to be the professor's favorite number, so if you aren’t sure, guess that.” My jaw drops open again as he ruffles my hair, “You did pretty well, (Y/n).” I brighten at his words and hug him. “I promise to study hard! Two more quizzes before the final test!” He laughs and hugs me back telling me, “You got this!”

It wasn’t until the last study session that I realized how much I would miss Hongseok’s presence. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I got to my room, I was bawling. I wanted to see him more. I wanted to be around him and get to know him more. It took me a few moments, but I realized I fell for my tutor. How could I not? When I had a tutor like Hongseok,... Based on all calculations, I have a crush on him. I wonder if he likes me back, but there is only one way to know. Do I have enough courage for that? I’m not sure. I sigh and wipe my tears, saving them for a less important day. I need to study and pass these four exams.

I spend hours studying for tomorrow, although I know my study method. It did not make studying any less boring. I missed Hongseok, who would crack a joke or grab us a snack. He made this so much easier studying five hours with him felt like two. Ugh, now five hours of studying feels like fifteen. At the sixth hour, I call it a day and pull the covers over my head, and dream of failing the exams.

When my alarm clock finally rings, I’m happy to be up and away from those horrid dreams. With a brave face, I get ready for my exam day. I check my phone and see it’s Hongseok. He texted me, “Good luck on your exams! Fighting! You got this!” I smile and text him back, ‘thank you'. I got this, I keep reiterating to myself, but I can’t help but hear the doubtful voice in the back of my head. I am taking all my exams in one instance. So that means five hours of taking four different tests. While I know all the study sessions were preparing me for this moment, I want it to be over and done with already.

Of course, none of the tests were easy they each pulled at my wit's end. I sit there for another thirty minutes waiting for them to grade my tests. Preparing myself for the worst news, I think about Hongseok’s encouragement. If he thinks I’ll pass, maybe he’s right. If it wasn’t just my grades on the line, I wouldn’t care as much. But when it comes to Hongseok, my heart is grasping at the hope that I made it above passing.

The professor looks up at me as I turn a page in my book. I set it down with a bookmark. They smile at me, “Your lowest is an 87,” I gulp, no way, “Your highest is a 99.” My brain is no longer processing words as I rush out of my seat to see my results. “Congratulations, (Y/n). You passed with flying colors.” I smile and shake their hand, thanking them, and skip out of the building. I passed. I really passed! Is this real? I'm not dreaming again, right? I pinch myself and let out a small ‘ouch’ definitely real. I skip out of the building and see someone wearing a blue sweatshirt sitting on the fountain. As I come up closer, I recognize them as Hongseok. I run up to him and hug him. He whispers, “Did you pass?” And I shake my head 'yes'. He runs his hands through my hair, “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you.” Hearing him say that my heart pounds, “Um, Hongseok,...” I pull away from him a bit, my arms still wrapped around him. He nods for me to continue, “Would you maybe,... possibly want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, “I was gonna ask you that!” We both laugh as he hands me a family-size pack of m&m's for us to share. We head over to my dorm, and that is the start of our new beginning.

While we still study together, you can find us lying on the floor while watching the tv and throwing m&m's at each other. Making different kinds of foods together, making an even bigger mess in the kitchen. So yeah, if given the opportunity, I would fail my classes all over again. If it meant I got to meet Hongseok.

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cosmiclatte28 · 5 years ago

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Heterochromia (Lucas x reader)

ONE SHOT ... SOULMATE AU! .. HETEROCHROMIA (different eye colors)

Warning : none (?) It's fluff and safe for everyone

Enjoy!!

Heterochromia- when one person owns two different colors of iris.

Having one purple eye and one green eye is nothing new to the society. Everyone is born with it. One of the color belongs to you, and the other color obviously belongs to your significant others aka your soulmate.

Science proof that when you meet your soulmate, your eye color will change. You will finally have a pair of your true color and vice versa. Truth be told, this is such a cool indicator and people are all loving this new mutation.

Waking up to coffee and toast is a good way to start your day. You toss your blanket aside and push yourself away, you’re in a good mood to start college today.

“Morning Hendery,” you greet your flat partner.

“Morning (y/n)~” his bed head greets you.

“coffee, bacon and eggs?” his questioning tone is enough to offer you breakfast.

“That’s so nice of you. Yes just one egg and bacon,” you say while grabbing your towel to use the bathroom first.

You return to the small dining room ten minutes later and your plate is ready on the table.

Hendery pours you a cup of black coffee with two spoons of sugar “black with two spoons of sugar.”

He pushes the cup to you as he finishes his own breakfast plate. “Thanks” you whisper

“Morning class?” you ask as you spoon yourself some eggs and bacons.

“Uh-hum, why would I get up this early if I do not have morning class.” Hendery scoffs

“You go take a shower, I’ll wash the dishes.” You initiatively take the responsibility since he had cooked you breakfast.

You met Hendery through a friend when you’re looking for a flat mate. You don’t have much rules to sharing the flat, your urgency made you sign the contract with Hendery, a sophomore in engineering while you're a junior in public health.

“Are you going to Jaehyun’s party tomorrow?” He asks after coming out of the toilet in a clean and tidy shirt. Jaehyun is a member of the same frats as Hendery and tomorrow is his birthday. You've met Jaehyun since middle school and the two of you are good friends! thus earning you an invitation to the ‘hottest man in the campus’ birthday party.

You rinse the last plate and dry your hands, “It’s a Friday night after all, I am going to come I guess.”

“Awesome! We can share a cab.” He flashes his big smile and the last thing you saw before parting ways was his half green half blue eyes. The two of us start our daily routines.

Preparing yourself for a party is always fun. You enjoy decorating your half blue half brown eyes with eye shadows and you love dressing up. Tonight's pick is a simple black dress with a pink choker and some wedged boots. February is still cold and you don't want to come home freezing!

You paint your lips on your favorite shade color and with one last perfume spray, you're finally ready to go.

“Hey, i'm ready.” You notify Hendery, who has been waiting for you since like thirty minutes ago…

He glances at you and stands up, “Great! The cab will be here in five minutes. You look stunning by the way. Aren't you feeling cold?” he wonders after seeing your attire.

“Nah, i'll use a coat relax. Shall we go down?” you grab your coat and then pockets your key.

“Sure, let's wait down stairs.” He offers you his hand since you'll need to go down two levels by stairs in a wedged boots. Although he knew you're so talented in wearing heels, he is a gentleman for always offering a hand.

“You know I won't fall just by wearing a 5 cm boots.” You giggle while descending the stairs.

Hendery smirks, “A thank you would be better. I’m raised to be a gentle man miss.”

“Right… gentleman.. arraseo mr blue-green" you tease him. Well the first time you saw his eyes, you lowkey envied him for having one green eye, while Hendery always love your brown eyes. Funny how we cannot switch eye colors! Or else you're going to pick purple and ash grey!

The party Jaehyun held was the biggest you've attended since coming to university life. He rented a whole party house complete with a swimming pool, pool, a dj, and of course free flows of drinks and foods. The room was so big and there's hundreds of people! You're sure he almost invited every one in campus. This is like a prom, but without the fancy dresses.

“Look, don't go home with any one! You're going back home with me. Okay? Contact me or just look for me.” Hendery said before you parted ways. Well, Hendery and you had only been sharing the flat for seven months, but that is enough to grow a strong sibling bond between you two. Hendery treats you like you're his little sister and you see him as your big brother.

“Right, make sure you're taking me home okay and not other girl.” You taunt and before Hendery could get you, you disappear into the crowd.

“Jaehyun! Happy birthday brother!”

Once you see the man with sweet dimple in denim, chilling with his frats, you hug him and congratulate him. Well, after all jaehyun and you are close friends and calling him brother is nothing.

Jaehyun smiles upon your greeting and arrival, he returns your hug and excuses himself from the group. The two of you walk to the quieter part of the house, the kitchen and there was a comfortable silence.

“Sooo you're hosting this big party let me guess,” you tease him and put a hand over your head, “to I don't know find your soulmate? Or just win an attention?”

Jaehyun laughs at your remarks, well those two are not completely wrong. He takes two cups of drinks and hands you one, “Well both are quite true. I'm looking for my special person… maybe i'll find them tonight. Or maybe you can find yours too.” Jaehyun swirls his cup and gulps it down.

You can catch the sweetness his brown and blue eyes hold. Yes the two of you have the same eye colors, but no you're not made for one another! Your eyes and his never change and that means you two have to keep looking on.

“I don't know if this is a good idea Jae, but meeting someone here and then realizing he or she is your soul mate will not be easy! There's like three hundred people here!” you sip on the alcoholic beverage and noted you're not drinking this tonight.

“Well I need to say it is hard, but possible. Besides there are only two hundred fifty invitations sweetie, I am sure you can find someone interesting!” Jaehyun winks and pats your hair carefully in a playful manner.

“Now, enjoy the party! I need to entertain my guests. Oh reach out for me if you need any help! Mom will kill me if something bad happens to you. Bye!” Jaehyun exits the kitchen and like the social butterfly he is, he embraces every single friends coming in.

You found your friends from your sorority, they invite you over to a beer pong game against another frats house and you're always in for games. You join your sisters and the fun begins.

Two hours of fun and games passed by, you've won two rounds of beer pong game, one round of drinking game and you've moved on to the dance floor. The crowd moves along to the dance floor, surrounding the DJ blasting “shut up and dance" loudly on the stereo. You bumped to a lot of people and drunk quite a lot of alcohols from the drinking game earlier. Now you're regretting things since your brain can't really cooperate.

“Hey (y/n)! You free?” Jaehyun asked when he sees you taking some air on one of the empty spots.

You turn your head from day dreaming and nod. Jaehyun takes your hand to bring you and sit down beside a nice looking man. You see Hendery sitting across you with some girls you did not know.

“So guys, this is the one special friend I’ve always mentioned. Her name is (y/n), we've been best friends since middle school.” Jae introduces you to the guys and you take the queue to learn one by one. The room you're sitting in isn't bright, it's dim and so you cannot really study everyone's eyes.

You learn their names quickly, Taeyong, Mark, Ten, Lucas, and a tall guy Johnny.

You got yourself engaged in a deep talk with Taeyong and Mark about raps and lyrics writing. You learn that Taeyong and Mark are studying to be professional lyric writers and turns out you blend well with them. They suddenly talk about their current project and in the dark loud room, you help them with some verses and that's how you ended up exchanging phone numbers with them.

Night deepens, your head is spinning and all you know is you were standing up to grab some water and the blazing disco lights were blinding you, you did not know when someone knocked you out. Making you fall down on someone's body.

---

The loud ringing from your alarm forces you to wake up. You look around to figure out where are you sleeping. You squint your eyes from the bright sun lights entering the room. You take a deep breath and that's when you realize something is wrong. No this is not the usual smell your room has, this is nothing near the fabric softener scent you use.

Your hands rub the bed sheet beneath you and your eyes shot wide open when you feel something that's definitely not bolsters! You turn your head to the side and in a glint of an eye, you quickly check what's beneath your blanket.

You can breathe normally when you see your clothes still completely intact. Now where were you, you try to remember what happens last night, how you ended up sleeping on a foreign bed beside a man who turns out to be the host of the party.

Jaehyun looks so wasted and drunk beside you. Although this is not the first time Jae shared a bed with you, this is definitely the first time he was drunk asleep beside you. You make your way out of the bed and room slowly, not to wake him up.

You leave the room and concluded that this is the same house where the party was held. Turns out you passed out yesterday and someone brought you to the room. You peek on the other room beside yours which is not closed completely. You spot Hendery sleeping there too with Mark and Ten. You see several other bodies passed out on the couches and floor. The smell of alcohol is pungent, you find yourself running with a closed nose to the refrigerator. You take out a sealed water bottle and calm yourself down with it.

You hear some foot steps and turn your back.

“Oh it's you Taeyong!” you greet him and move aside when he heads to the fridge to of course take some waters.

“Woah didn't know you're sleeping here too, thought you went home last night.” He speaks in his bed voice

“I didn’t remember anything. I guess someone bumped into me and I fell? But don't know. Anyways pretty colors over there! Purple and blue. Last night was too dark, can't see the colors.” You drive the conversation away from last night's talk.

“Well yeah I'm still looking for my soulmate, unlike you! Lucky you for you've found yours already.” Tae smirks while looking into your eyes.

You froze, your brain process everything that had happened. Did he just say your eyes are the same colors already?!

“Wait say that again…” you squint your eyes at him.

Taeyong smiles, “sure, your perfect blue eyes are captivating honey,” he teases you a bit, seeing that there's no one else here

You leave the half empty bottle on the counter and drag Taeyong with you as you head to the nearest mirror. It's in the bathroom.

You stand across your own reflection, looking so surprised and bewildered. Taeyong is standing behind you confused as you did not let his hand go.

“I swear Taeyong, yesterday before I went to the party they were still different!” you turn to look at him.

“Well congratulations! You've found your soul mate!” he speaks in a sing song tone.

You squeeze his hand tighter “I did not know who my soul mate is Tae,”

Before Taeyong can react to your sentence a surprised scream erupted.

“(Y/n)?! What are you doing with Taeyong in the bathroom?!” a surprised man stood in horror over the toilet door.

“Oh Hendery hyung! Nothing I just brought Tae here after he saw my eyes! LOOK! LOOK! They're no longer different!” You blink several times to show Hendery your eye colors.

“Damn! You're right, you've met your soul mate!! Congrats girl" Hendery gushes between you and Tae, he engulfs you in a hug and carries you while spinning you one time. He's too happy for you.

“So who's the lucky guy?” Hendery shoots a look at Taeyong's eyes checking their colors.

“Hmm not you. Who else then?” Hendery ponders

“last night I met a lot of people! Too much to actually remember one by one… I don't even have memories on who I met.” You usher the two men out of the bathroom and talk in another space.

“We can start by checking who's here…” Tae suggests and with that the three of you along with Jaehyun start to observe everyone's eyes. Jae needed to use the bathroom and found the three of you there pondering on where to look for your soulmate.

“Nope. None of them have the other color.. or had their color changed yesterday.” You slump on one of the sofa and bite your lips. One habit you always did when you're thinking fast and hard.

“Look, there were like hundreds of people last night and… I met my sisters.. which of course were out of the list. I knew them already and if our eyes were to change colors that won't happen last night.” You try to narrow down the options, because hell who is not excited to meet their soulmates?!

Hendery adds in, “You did play with some of the boys from Omega Lambda and you bumped to some of the boys on the dance floor?”

You shake your head, “didn't make eye contact with the crowds in the dance floor.”

“Then you made eye contact with some boys from Omega Lambda and probably from our frats.” Taeyong clicks his tongue.

“The omega lambda is a five minutes walk from here, we can check on them… there were only 9 of them last night.” Jaehyun stands up and walks to take his jacket. “Shall we? Our frats have 21 boys… might want to meet them at lunch… better that way.” Jaehyun decides everything by himself.

“Sure, Baekhyun is a good friend of mine and he's on Omega lambda.. let's go my car is free.” Taeyong plays with his car keys and the four of us depart.

Upon entering the Omega Lambda house, I definitely did not expect to see the frat house so clean and tidy.

“You're looking for someone whose eyes changed color?” Suho, their leader who answered the door, repeats the question.

The four of us nod eagerly. Suho puts on a sad smile, “am so sorry but nine of us had found their soul mates already and the other three are still…” Suho turns his head to see the living room, “taking shower.”

Baekhyun joins Suho in the front door, he greets Taeyong warmly and smiles brightly for us too.

“Oh looking for someone? Hmm let's see Sehun's still looking for his other pair.. Kai and Tao too. Tao didn't come yesterday so we can check Kai and Sehun.”

Your heart beats faster when you hear Suho calling Kai and Sehun. However to no avail, Suho confirmed that both Kai and Sehun still have different eye colors and none of them have blue eyes before.

The group parted and you're now on your way back home to wash and rest. You're not joining the boys for lunch, you don't feel close yet.

Hendery waits for you to finish showering and when you're out of the steamy door looking all relaxed in a pajamas he can only smile and ruffles your hair.

“Nice blue eyes over there! I kinda remember seeing someone with those blue eyes too, but I can't get the clear face or name… trust me I'll notify you when I find the man!” Hendery pats your shoulder and takes his turn to shower.

You go to the kitchen and start cooking your lunch. Hendery leaves after a cup of coffee and you're finally alone. You try to remember anyone from the party that might be your soulmate, but your brain was not cooperating.

You give up, finish lunch, clean the flat a bit, then you drown yourself on your assignments and papers.

Hendery must have gone to the cinema or somewhere else with the boys, because when you look up from your works, your phone shows 15 missed calls and 10 unread message from Hendery.

You glance to the clock and realize it's already noon and you see a pile of your dirty laundry. You tidy up your books, take your phone and you walk to your dirty pile of clothes. While humming to your favorite song, you take the basket and leave to go to the washing room, before that you borrowed one of Hendery's big sweater. Finally you make your way to the laundry place one block away from your flat.

There was no one when you enter the small area. The lights are bright and the sun has not yet sunken down, so you're not afraid even when you're alone here.

You unload your clothes and after putting in your favorite detergent and softener, you close the door and press the button to start the machine.

You take a step back and lean over one of the machine. Taking a glance to the right and left,, seeing if there is anyone else.

Turns out you're not alone. You spot a man wearing his ear phones, unloading his dirty laundries and ooh my gosh… he’s taking off his clothes.

You let out a small surprised cough and the man turned his body around quickly.

“Sorry…” you whisper as you close your eyes. Your cheeks burn from the embarrassment

“Ah sorry didn't see you there!” the man continues stripping his sweater off and tossing it into the machine along with his other things.

“You can open your eyes … I mean if you're not comfortable I can turn away.” He awkwardly explains.

“No it's okay..” you finally reply after collecting yourself back. Come on it's not the first time you see some man bare chested. Hendery and Jaehyun did that a lot, not to mention your younger brother who liked to strip too.

Once your eyes open, you're already face to face with the man.

“LUCAS?!” you run your eyes to meet his face.

“Yeah it's me.. you remember me!” He smiles genuinely but it didn't last long.

“Why? Something’s wrong?” you ask when you see his surprised face.

“Look at me (y/n)…” Lucas takes your face in his hands and bends himself to match your height or at least to be able to see your eyes.

You were confused at first, but now when you see it… you're suffocating.

“Hey hey..” Lucas can feel your body shaking and your breathing short, “easy easy.. breathe in.. out..”

He guides you through your small panic incident and his big generous smile is back on his face. His hands were already holding on to your shoulder and when your breathing stabilized he cups your cheeks on his large palms. His eyes widens and you're spaced out.

The two of you remain silent… with just one eye contact.. the world feels different. Your skin tingle and your heart feels so warm. No words can explain the exact unexplainable feeling happening right now.

“Lucas..” your voice cracked and a tear escaped from your blue eyes. Your hand creeps to hold onto his which are still cupping your face. You give it a gentle squeeze just to make sure this is real and he is real.

Lucas smiles and with glistening eyes he pulls you into a warm embrace. The linen Hendery's sweater provided to you, cannot hide the fast heart beat behind this man’s wonderful abs.

His hugs feels like your missing piece, his skin feels soft under your touch, and his heart beat sounds like home. You cannot hold back your tears from falling down. You make your arms slowly around his waist and gosh how you fit perfectly on his chest to snuggle.

Lucas carefully brushes your hair away from your face and with most care he locks contact with you one more time.

If time can stop, you'll want it to stop right now right at this moment in a laundry place with no one else. Your machine still buzzing and his too still rocking back and fourth. But amongst those loud rocking voice of water mixing, you find yourself hypnotized by a pair of brown eyes… the exact color you've woken up to for the last 20 years of living. You cannot mistaken that brown for anything else. Lucas too, seems to adore the blue eyes he’s now staring at.

“I love your blue eyes they look magical.” Lucas leans in closer to drown himself on those blue orbs of yours.

You blushed, “and I've finally found the man who gave me those fresh brown iris!”

Lucas crawls his finger to your chin and while keeping eye contact, his face inches closer to you. Your reflex made you close your eyes and your leaping heart flies to cloud nine when his soft lips mold into yours. It’s definitely a new sensation and you found yourself craving for more. What first was a resting lip, slowly moves. He leads you through the kiss and as your feet grow weak from matching his height, Lucas bends down for you. You tangle your hand over his neck and plays softly with his hair. The sweet soft kiss did not end there, you feel a strong hand over your hips and with one tap you jump as he lifts you up to one of the machine.

Thanks to the machine, you're now giving him an easier time to finish what he's doing. Lucas waits for your permission and soon his tongue was dashing through your rows of teeth. Your eyes were still closed, you did not really care if someone spot the two of you making out here not to mention Lucas is in his half naked state.

The kiss ends when you tug his hair as your lungs run out of air. With heavy heart he lets go and your eyes flutter open. Chest heaving up and down, Lucas stare at you in awe and adoration. He tucks your hair behind your ear and cages you between his strong hands.

“So.. look at my blushing princess… so cute.” Lucas coos. You playfully slap him and earns an “ouch" from him.

“Did you just steal my first kiss?” you ask while looking to the distance, your right hand finds its way to touch your swollen lips.

Lucas raises his brow, “That was your first?”

You stare into him with big eyes and nod your head slowly, “why?”

Lucas shakes his head and smirks, “You did amazing for a first timer"

You swing your legs and face your head down to the tiles. You're suddenly so shy in front of the man who just stole your first kiss… and was he even the right man?! What if he's not your soulmate?

“You're now doubting if I am really your soul mate right?” Lucas seriously can read you like an open book.

Your surprised face was enough to ensure him, his guess was right.

“Look, I met the boys earlier and no one has their eye colors changed.. well Mark did but his was not blue. Mark has a green violet eyes… and I was the other lucky guy.” Lucas leans over one machine that is in front of you.

You hide your blushing face, “I know it is you Lucas.. because I don't know.. my heart just tells me you're the one! Your kiss feels wonderful, your touch, your hug … and your eyes! Those were the colors I owned before.”

“And those blue… I cannot mistaken them for another color too! Plus my heart also leads me to you.” Lucas exhales a relieved breath.

There was silence and you hear your machine stopping. You quickly jump off to the ground and take your clothes out. They were dried already and you take your time to fold them.

Lucas is still waiting for his to finish as he chats with you. Now you're exchanging name hobbies and silly facts to one another.

“umm mind to tell me how you ended up half naked here?” You finally found the courage to ask him the first thing that bothers your mind.

Lucas looks puzzled from your question but he answers you anyway, “Clumsy Jaehyun spilled an ice cappuccino on my last piece of fresh sweater. I've had him clean it quick with tissues and some water, but heck I cannot stand the stickiness. So I decided to skip the movie and wash my clothes. Apparently because of Jaehyun's clumsiness I finally met you! The love of my life, the one for me.” Lucas explains as he dresses himself back in one of the fresh laundries.

“Starving?” Lucas asks as the two of you head to the exit door.

You nod.

“Got any schedule tonight?” he asks once again.

You shake your head, “I'm free for the night.”

“Great! Let's put our clothes back and we'll go to this restaurant I love.” Lucas holds one of your hand and just like that the two of you walk on the side walk hand in hand

You pass his house first and he came back with his motorcycle

“Hop on, we'll drop your laundry and we’ll go eat!”

You sit behind him and encircle your arms around his torso. Lucas zoomed to your flat and you rush your way to the door.

Quickly you put on a lipstick, grab your bag and wallet, tossed Hendery's sweater aside and you dress yourself quickly in a warm garment. Motorcycle ride on February after the sun is down will be chilling.

You descend through the stairs and greet Lucas with one twirl “How do I look for our first date?”

He pecks your lips quick, “perfect! Now hop on and hold on tight sweetheart, tonight will be unforgettable!”

Life has twists and unpredictable turns, yet in the end you'll find your soulmate just like finding your way back home. It feels assuring, safe, and wonderful. You'll know he or she is the one, once your eyes meet and your lips touch.

The end 🙌

Thank you for reading 🤧🥺🥺💖

58 notes · View notes

etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years ago

Text

Run To You - Chpt.5

Summary: Bucky & Steve’s date has some unintended consequences forcing Bucky to make some hard decisions. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: Attempted child abduction. Emphasis on ATTEMPTED. Becca will be fine ya’ll.

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Remember last chapter where I was like “oh hey enjoy this unusually large chapter”? Well, I went to write a normally sized chapter and my hand slipped. Whoops! Enjoy another giant beast chapter lovelies! And don’t hate me for the angst!! I promise this fic has a happy ending, it’s just a long road to get there. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Five

Bucky wakes to bright light streaming in his bedroom window and Becca sitting on top of him. “Wake up sleepy head!” she chirps, shoving his shoulder as hard as she can.

“Whoa, calm it down little miss.” Bucky grumbles.

“I’m gonna be late!”

Bucky looks over at the alarm clock and realizes she’s right. “Shit.”

“Bad word!!”

“Becca!” Bucky snaps and instantly regrets it. “Quieter, bug. Please. Come on, let’s get moving.”

Bucky hurries Becca through her morning routine, grabbing her tiny backpack and breakfast on their way out the door. Bucky knows he’s a mess, hair sloppily thrown up in a bun, sweatpants and a hoodie because he just can’t take the time to find real clothes. He doesn’t even bother to throw on his prosthetic. Becca nibbles at her string cheese and mini muffins as they hustle down the busy city sidewalks to her school, just finishing as they round the last corner. He gives her a quick hug and kiss before she runs into the building screeching hello to the teacher at the door. The teacher gives Bucky an odd look that he chalks up to him looking like a hot mess and he gives her a small wave and terse smile in return.

It’s early yet and Bucky doesn’t have to worry about work for a few more hours so he decides to splurge and stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich on his walk home. One treat won’t hurt and he’s still holding on to the warm feeling in his chest from last night’s date with Steve. Waiting in line a few other people give Bucky strange looks and he wonders how rough of shape he’s in. He prays there isn’t a giant rip on his clothes or something but after a discrete check he doesn’t think that’s the case. Just a weird morning then.

The hoodie actually comes in handy once Bucky realizes he can’t carry both a sandwich and his coffee when he’s down an arm. Tucking the sandwich in his hoodie pouch, he sips the pumpkin spice latte slowly enjoying the sweet fall flavors on his way home. His phone starts chirping at him but with no free hand Bucky is forced to ignore it until he gets back to the apartment. It was going off earlier too and he figures who ever needs him so damn bad can just wait five more minutes.

Bucky stretches out on the sofa to enjoy his breakfast, throwing on a random movie from his queue, when he finally looks at his phone. He wonders if the world is ending and he missed it somehow. Eight missed calls from Steve, two voicemails, and four texts. Two calls from Natasha, one voicemail, and two texts. Three texts from Clint.

Natasha wants to know if he’s seen the news, if he’s okay, and what she can do to help.

Clint also asks if he’s okay and tells him he’s an ass for not sharing the deets.

Steve asks him repeatedly to call him, frantically apologizing in between.

Still confused and becoming increasingly worried, Bucky brings up the news on his phone and finds his own face on the front page. The picture is from the night before, he and Steve walking back to his place with Becca on Steve’s shoulders. They look so happy that it tugs at Bucky’s heartstrings before the realization of what this means sinks in. He shoots a quick text to Natasha assuring her that he’s fine and he’ll catch up with her tonight. Clint gets two emojis in response: a thumbs up and the middle finger. Steve, he actually calls back. The blonde had sounded so worried in his voicemails.

“Bucky, thank god.” Steve blurts out in lieu of hello.

“Well good morning to you too.” Bucky jokes.

“Are you okay? Is Becca okay?”

“Yeah, Steve, we’re good. I just dropped Becca off a preschool. I don’t know what you’re worried about, it was a normal morning outside of a few funny looks. But honestly that was probably me going out looking like a hobo because I overslept.”

“Buck…” Steve falters, “It won’t be long ‘til they figure out who you are. We can keep the press at bay here in the tower but you’re going to have some serious issues as soon as a reporter gets your name. You and Becca could come stay here for a bit or I can have a security team allocated to you both until the news dies down.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down a minute. We don’t need security and I’m not dragging Becca to Manhattan just because some dudes with cameras may or may not come pester us. We’ll be okay.”

“I’m just worried about you guys. You didn’t sign on for the shit storm that’s blowing up right now. I’m so sorry, Buck.”

“Actually, I did.” Bucky points out, “I’m not stupid, Steve. I knew what I was signing on for the minute we started talking. It’s gonna be okay, nothing lasts forever and Becca is a resilient kid.”

Steve is quiet for a long moment, trying to compose himself to say what he knows he needs to say. “If you need to take some time apart until this all dies down…” he chokes up and lets the sentence lie.

“No.” Bucky’s voice is firm. “I’m not running on you again. We’re gonna deal with this together.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily in relief, “I’m going to be tied up today doing interviews. Apparently there’s no hiding the fact that I’m bisexual now. It’s funny that I’ve never tried to hide it but the news is claiming I’ve been ‘publicly outed’ by the tabloids. I’m not going to say a whole lot about you, about us. I don’t want to speak for you or anything. But if you’re okay with it, I would like to confirm that I’m in a relationship and that I care about you very much.”

“Aww, you big sap. Yeah, of course that’s fine.”

“Can I call you later when I have time?”

“I’m working tonight but I’ll have a chance for a quick break around 10pm.”

“I’ll talk to you then. If you need anything, I mean it Buck, anything, just call me. I’ll pick up on national TV if I have to.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and hopes Steve can feel his exasperation through the phone lines. “Get going, ya punk. You have a country full of conservatives to horrify with your secret homosexual agenda.”

Steve laughs, the first bit of happiness he’s had since waking up to the news. “Will do.” he says quickly and hangs up before his overly dramatic heart can blurt out something terribly stupid like I love you. He pushes down the tender, fledgling emotion, knowing it’s too fast but feeling the gentle flutters nonetheless.

Natasha arrives at Bucky’s apartment a full hour early that night so he can get her caught up while making dinner for her and Becca, while Becca watches an episode of Wonder Pets in the living room. Natasha apparently watched a few interview clips of Steve’s and teases Bucky over how completely smitten they both are. It’s nice and normal, the teasing and banter over a new relationship with his best friend. It makes him think Steve really was just being overly concerned with his fears.

It’s a blessedly slow night at the ER and no one seems to recognize Bucky as he hops from one patient to the next, getting people stabilized and ready to be seen by one of the doctors on shift. When Steve calls at ten he sounds better than he had that morning. He’s exhausted from the media circus but pleased that he was able to get the story out in his own words. He asked for privacy for all their sakes but knows it won’t last long. Bucky continues to assure him that they’ll handle things as they come and to not worry. Steve can’t help but feel like it’s the calm before the storm.

The calm only lasts until 2am. Dr. Strange pulls Bucky out of a patient room, pushing Darcy in to take his place and dragging him down the hall to the staff break room. “What the hell?” Bucky demands once the door is shut.

Strange’s face is grim, “There are currently fifteen reporters in the lobby all asking if you’re working and if anyone has a statement they’d like to make.”

Bucky’s stomach drops, “Fuck.”

“Yes, fuck indeed. I’ve already made some calls and the police are on their way to clear house. We don’t expect that to last however. HR is willing to give you the rest of this week off, paid, while we sort out protocol for this sort of thing. Amanda will call you tomorrow to talk details once the board meets and decides what we can do to protect both you and our patients. We obviously can’t have reporters milling around every time you work.”

Bucky doesn’t even know what to say.

“If you want to go gather your things, Paul in security will escort you out the back away from the reporters.”

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, because really what else can he do?

Darcy catches up with him as he’s packing up his locker, “They’re sending you home?” she cries, pulling him into a hug.

Bucky nods numbly, “Rest of the week, yeah. They have to, there’s too much going on right now. It’s paid at least.”

“Well that’s something.” Darcy concedes. “How are you getting home? It’s a madhouse out there.”

“Paul’s gonna have me go out the back. I’ll be okay.”

“Call me if you need me.” she insists, giving him another tight hug.

Bucky promises he will and then follows the kindly old security guard through the maze of hospital halls and outside.

The air is bitter cold and Bucky’s thankful for his heavy jacket as he hurries down the mostly empty streets home. Natasha is tapping away on her laptop when he arrives. She does cyber security work and swears she gets most of her work done after midnight anyway. It works out well when he needs help on his overnight shift rotations.

“What happened?” she demands and slams the lid of her laptop down.

Bucky shucks off his jacket and joins Natasha on the sofa. “Reporters showed up at the hospital, like a lot of them. Strange was on tonight, thank god, he’s a tough son of a bitch and he wasn’t putting up with crap from anyone. They snuck me out the back while the cops got rid of the reporters.”

“But what about tomorrow? Is this gonna affect your job?”

Bucky shrugs, trying to ignore the low level fear humming in his veins over that exact concern. “I honestly don’t know. HR is gonna call me tomorrow once they figure out ‘protocol’ for this. Somehow Strange got them to give me the rest of the week off with pay. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with myself for the next six days.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, surprised and happy for him. “I vote catching up on your Netflix queue and being a lazy ass. You never take a break, Bucky. And you of all people deserve one. Maybe go spend some more time with that gorgeous boyfriend of yours. Some kid-free time, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows until Bucky throws a pillow at her. She ducks easily, laughing. “I’m just saying! It’s been a long time since he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

Bucky bristles at the mention of his ex. He should have seen Brock for the piece of shit he was, but he’d missed it at first, too wrapped up in the bliss of a new relationship. In the end, Brock’s true colors had come out and Bucky had ended things before it could become even more toxic than they already become. He sighs, pushing the ugly memories away. “It hasn’t been that long. And you’re forgetting Micah from the hospital cafe.”

“It’s been four years since him. And Micah doesn’t count. That was a year ago and it didn’t go past a lunch date where he, and I quote, kissed you like a St. Bernard.”

Bucky shudders at the memory. “Okay, so it’s been a while. Maybe I will go see Steve one day while Becca’s at school.”

“That’s more like it!” Natasha cheers quietly, cautious to not disturb Becca. “So, do you want company or should I scoot and let you get some rest?”

“I love you for offering but I just wanna crash. If I can get a few hours now I’ll be able to get back on daytime hours easier.”

“Love you too.” Natasha leans over to hug him before packing up her stuff and heading out.

It was a crazy day but as Bucky climbs into bed, he’s still resolved that it’s going to be okay again soon.

Bucky is groggy when his alarm goes off at 7am but it’s better than he would have been if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Becca is thrilled that he’s home and even more so when he tells her that he’ll be home the rest of the week. They make plans over breakfast for things they can do after she gets out of school since they have all the time in the world now. Bucky compromises with one quick park trip, which he cringes thinking about but he’ll just have to pack her inhaler and make sure she takes breaks, two trips to the library, and one night they’ll grab dinner at the neighborhood diner for their kids eat free night.

The week flies by and Bucky gets the all clear on Thursday to return the following Sunday once the hospital is able to put additional security in place. He’s thankful they’re not just letting him go to avoid all the hassle but several nurses and doctors apparently made their opinions loud and clear that he was worth the additional security measures. Bucky is eternally grateful for his coworkers and makes plans to take in a tray of thank you brownies on his first shift back.

A second round of good news comes in a few hours later; Steve is back early from his latest mission. They make plans for the following day, unwilling to wait any longer to see one another again. Steve will be, in theory, just hanging around the tower wrapping up some post-mission paperwork from earlier in the week so he’ll be able to take most of the day to show Bucky around the tower and spend time with him. He also offered to take them all to The Met after Becca gets out of school and Bucky said he’ll consider it. It’s a little extravagant, but something about picking her up together and going on an outing tugs at his heartstrings. It’s so perfectly domestic, like a real family would do. Bucky tries to ignore the longing he feels for something he’s never let himself consider before.

There’s a lone reporter lingering outside his apartment when Bucky heads out to pick up Becca from school. There were a lot the first two days but their numbers dropped off drastically when they realized he really wasn’t all that interesting. “Hey man.” Bucky gives the reporter a little wave. He has to give the guy credit for determination. “Still not going to do anything interesting, sorry.”

The reporter huffs a laugh, “Ya never know!”

Bucky laughs in return and heads off, trying to ignore the fact that the man is following him a few steps back. He gives the guy a few more days before he gives up too. Bucky is a single parent with a full time job, he doesn’t have the time to do anything interesting.

Rounding the corner to Becca’s school he spies the little girl talking to a man in a long beige wool coat. The man is tall and thin with greying hair and wire framed glasses. His appearance screams of wealth in a way that would make him fit right in as a parent of someone at the school, but something is off and Bucky steps up his pace. Becca hasn’t spotted him yet but he hears the man ask “Your daddy is friends with Captain America isn’t he?”

Becca, all proud smiles, informs him, “He’s my brother, not my daddy. And Captain America is his boyfriend.”

“Isn’t that nice. Hey, I have something you can give your brother for me, okay? Can you be a big helper? It’s right over here.” Becca looks unsure so the man smiles brightly and takes her hand, leading her down the sidewalk away from the school. A black van pulls up at the end of the block, a door swinging open and the man hurries her along.

Bucky screams Becca’s name and breaks out into a full run. Icy fear consumes him, driving him to move faster than he ever has before. Please God no, please, don’t let them take my baby girl.

The reporter realizes what’s going on and sprints right along with Bucky. They collide with the man and Becca at the same time. The reporter tackles the man, pinning him to the ground, leaving Bucky to grab Becca and roll to the ground shielding her in his arms. A teacher runs over with her phone out yelling “The police are on their way!” to them.

The man writhes underneath the reporter, trying to free himself while looking panickedly at the van. The van door slides shut and then the vehicle flies off with screeching tires. Once it’s out of sight the man lays his head back on the pavement in defeat.

“Just stay put buddy.” the reporter grumbles.

Now that Becca is safe Bucky is filled with a depth of rage he didn’t even realize he was capable of. Somebody tried to snatch his baby girl right in broad daylight. Bucky checks her over one more time before passing her off to the teacher who’s still holding on the line for 911.

Bucky stalks over to where the reporter still has the man pinned. His movements are predatory, his voice low, practically a grow, when he demands, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

The reporter just stares at the man, also waiting for an answer.

“I am one of many.”

Bucky shakes his head. God, he just wants to punch this guy in his smug face. “Fine. Who do you work for?”

“Cut off one head and two more take its place.”

“I’m getting real sick of riddles and I still got at least two minutes before the cops show. Last time, asshole. Who the fuck do you work for and why do you want my kid?”

“The child, or you, it matters not. Either will get us the captain. We are everywhere. We will come again, and we will succeed. Hail Hydra.” The man crunches down on something and within seconds he’s foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling lifeless back in his head.

Bucky looks to Becca, thankful the teacher is shielding her away from what took place. Ice cold fear runs in his veins. He knew there could potentially be a risk dating Steve, but it was an abstract sort of knowledge. Up until minutes ago he’d thought the only real concern was pesky reporters. Most of which, he has to admit, are actually good people just trying to make a living. A real threat, a fucking terrorist threat, is something he’d never really put much thought into. That name too: Hydra. Everyone knows of the Nazi group who Captain America has been trying to destroy since the 40s. A threat from them is very, very real.

The cops arrive and start dispersing the crowd that’s formed. It seems like forever until they’ve taken statements from everyone and the body is removed. Becca holds up as well as a four year old can trying to answer the police man’s questions, and Bucky fills in gaps as he can. They take his statement too and let him know they can provide a security detail if he wants. The officer looks sheepish but also recommends he call Steve because Shield and the Avengers can likely provide better security than the NYPD can. Bucky thanks the officer and agrees to call Steve as soon as possible.

Becca is shaking so hard by the time they head home that Bucky scoops the little girl up to carry her the whole way. Two uniformed officers follow them back and do a full sweep of the apartment just to err on the side of caution. Buck appreciates the security but as he stands in his too quiet apartment he realizes he can’t do this every day. He adopted Becca to give her a better life and now he’s put her in more danger than she ever would have been in being raised by their parents. All because some small part of him still held on to the hope that there was someone out there that he could love and would love him back wholeheartedly and forever. That despite his upbringing, he could have a perfect family of his own one day. Bucky feels painfully childish that his pathetic longing for a partner had almost cost him his sister.

Ever the responsible parent, Bucky stifles the emotions whirling in his chest and puts on a good front for Becca’s sake. She falls asleep halfway through Frozen II and Bucky doesn’t even bother trying to wake her. He knows there’s no fighting the adrenaline crash she’s feeling. His own crash will be equally brutal when it comes, but for now it’s still nowhere in sight. Bucky is too keyed up, restless and desperately trying to find a solution that keeps all of them safe and happy. He drags a cup of coffee and a blanket out onto the fire escape where he sits to watch the sun drop lower and lower among the roof tops. He’s almost finished his drink when a knock sounds on the door.

The security detail is supposed to be vetting anyone going near his apartment so the odds are good it’s someone he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from slipping a kitchen knife into his hand on the way to the door. Peering through the peephole Bucky sees red hair, black leather, and a very pissed off Natasha. “Let me in.” she says, it sounds like a warning.

Bucky opens the door and stands out of the way. It’s not worth arguing with Natasha when she gets like this.

“You turned off your phone.” She comments without emotion.

Bucky nods. “I don’t want to deal with it right now.”

Natasha follows him as he heads to the kitchen to return the knife, seemingly pleased by his caution. “By it, you mean Steve.”

“Amongst other things.”

“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need, just name it.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I keep coming to the same answer and I hate it, Nat. I just… I can’t do this to Becs.” Bucky’s voice cracks on the little girl’s name and Natasha wraps her best friend into a tight hug.

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”

“I don’t even know how to do what I want to do. I’m sure it’s not nearly as easy as movies make it out to be.”

“Let me help. You and Becca mean the world to me. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out together.”

Bucky sighs heavily, still leaning on Natasha. “We need to disappear.”

Natasha goes still, “Are you sure?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. Even if I break up with Steve, Hydra can still use us as leverage. Feelings don’t just disappear... But people can.”

“Okay. Give me four hours.” Natasha pulls back and starts texting rapidly on a small cell phone Bucky has never seen before.

“What the fuck, Nat.”

“Working in cyber security has some perks.” She shrugs.

“I don’t think it’s normally supposed to have those kinds of perks.”

“Well, it depends on who you’re keeping secure.” Nastaha’s smile is cheshire.

“Damn. Okay, then. What do you need me to do?”

“Stay put. I’d say try to get some sleep but I know you won’t. Pack a duffel bag for each of you. No more than that, I mean it. Think in terms of what you absolutely can’t leave behind, this is not packing for vacation. You can buy basic stupid shit when you get where you’re going. Two outfits and whatever else you can’t leave that fits in two duffels. Got it?”

“Okay, got it.”

“Oh, and your phone. You won’t be needing that anymore.”

Bucky holds the phone out but doesn’t let go. “I have all of Becs’ baby pictures on there.”

Natasha gives him an understanding smile. “I’ll move them all to an online cloud storage site. You won’t lose a single one.”

Bucky releases the phone. “Thanks, Nat.”

Natasha hugs him tightly again. “Four hours. Be ready.”

And with that Bucky is left alone in his living room in shock. He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Natasha has always been a badass. He used to joke she was really a Russian spy and their friendship was just a cover for her real identity. Bucky now wonders now how close to the truth he might have been.

Four hours later, down to the minute, Natasha is striding through his door once again, a large envelope tucked under her arm. There’s no warm welcome or pleasantries, Natasha has her game face on and Bucky is still too rattled to try for levity. Spreading the papers out on the coffee table Natasha organizes everything quickly. “Birth certificates, immigration paperwork, social security cards, school records, medical records, a resume with work history and references, and a quick life history fact sheet for both of you.” She places a wallet from her pocket onto the table as well, flipping it open quickly to show him it’s fully filled with cards, cash, and an ID card.

Bucky scans over the documents, unable to believe she had pulled this off so quickly and how real everything looked. “Sebastian Stan?” he asks, nose wrinkling.

Natasha nods, “Yep, you’re Romanian. You moved here with your daughter Elena when she was two months old. Your wife died in childbirth and so you brought her here to start over.”

He spies the address on the drivers license. “Rochester? Is that where we’re actually going?”

“No, of course not. You and your daughter have recently moved to Cape Elizabeth, Maine. That’s where you’re headed. You’ll be happy to know their local urgent care center is looking for a new triage nurse. The pay is pretty good and it’ll be enough to cover rent for the cute little apartment that you just put a down payment on.” Natasha pulls something from her pocket, it’s flesh colored and rolled up tightly. She hands it over with a simple, “Here, you’ll need this too. Don’t want that guy drawing too much attention to you.”

Bucky stares at the silicone sleeve, realizing it’s a perfect fit for his prosthetic. The details are down to an art, from light arm hairs and tiny freckles. It’s soft enough too that as long as you don’t grasp it very hard, it’ll feel shockingly similar to his right arm. “Damn. You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Of course not. Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Natasha glares at him affectionately.

Bucky chuckles, of course she’s the best at this. She’s been the best at everything since the day they met. “What happens to Bucky and Becca Barnes then?” he’s afraid to ask but he needs to know.

“They got on a flight to Moscow two hours ago. There’s a few nice security officers and cab drivers who will all verify they were sighted leaving the airport about eight hours from now.”

“That works for the rest of the world, but what happens if Steve goes looking? He has an awful lot of friends in high places.”

“Steve isn’t going to go looking right now. And even if he did, the alibi will hold up. Trust me.”

A tiny piece of Bucky’s heart shatters that Steve would just let him go so easily.

Natasha recognizes the look on his face and quickly adds, “He called you non stop after the news broke. Sent you dozens of texts too. You very nearly had the full force of SHIELD and the Avengers on your doorstep if it wasn’t for Tony Stark.”

“What happened?”

“Tony convinced Steve that if you weren’t calling or responding that he was as good as dumped. The rumor mill always hinted their relationship was strained but Tony really is good at kicking Steve when he’s down and Tony played his cards right on this one. Steve has been holed up in his apartment all night, he’s not doing too great.”

It kills Bucky to know he’s putting Steve through this pain, but he’s firm in his decision. He’d be more disappointed in himself but he’s too tired. Things got tough and he’s doing exactly what he’s been doing since he was a kid to protect himself: he’s running. “How do you even know all this?” Bucky asks, realizing Natasha shouldn’t have this level of detail on the goings on at the tower.

“I hacked into the security feed at Avengers Tower. Jarivs was a handful but not more than I could handle. Tony Stark is brilliant but he’s also arrogant, and that’s his downfall.”

“You are, without a doubt, the scariest person I’ve ever met. I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky can’t hold back the tears at the thought of leaving Natasha behind.

“What do you mean, miss me? You went to college with Natalie Rushman, you’re even Instagram friends. You haven’t seen me in a few years but we still keep in touch regularly.” Natasha brings out yet another little black phone he’s never seen and shows him Natalie’s Instagram account.

“How many of those little phones do you have tucked up your sleeve?” he teases.

“The world will never know.” she quips in return. “I do need to go though.” she adds in a more serious tone.

Bucky nods, he knew this was coming. He can’t get words past the lump in his throat.

“You have a train to catch in about forty minutes. That one will take you as far as Boston and there’s more tickets from there. Try and get some rest, you’ll be getting into town in Maine around eight in the morning.”

“I’ve gone longer without sleep pulling doubles at the hospital, this won’t be nearly as bad.”

Natasha gives him a half hearted smile, “You’re all set then.”

Bucky pulls her in for one last hug. “I’ll message Natalie when we arrive.”

“Mmm, yes. Sebastian would definitely snap a pic of his new hometown when he arrives. I’ve heard it’s very Insta-worthy.” Tears shine in Natasha’s eyes but they don’t fall. She swallows thickly. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Bucky manages to croak out through the overwhelming tide of emotions. He holds her for one last heartbeat before she slips out the door like a ghost.

Bucky goes through all the documents Natasha left behind and finds a thin red iPhone in the stack. There’s a post-it note stuck on top warning “do not activate until after you are on the second train”. So much for keeping himself occupied while he waits. In the end he spends most of the time pacing around the apartment and double checking his bags. He checks the time again, making sure he’s down to the final few minutes when he finally goes to get a sleeping Becca from her bed. She barely stirs as he carefully slides her into her warm purple jacket and slips socks and shoes on her feet. He slings her over his shoulder and collects the two duffels with his free hand. It’s a little jarring to see tan skin where he’s used to seeing shiny steel but he appreciates that Natasha thought of everything.

He worries momentarily about the security detail outside his apartment but quickly realizes they’re distracted helping an elderly woman catch her escaped pomeranian who’s barking up a storm. It’s a good diversion, one clearly planned out. Bucky holds on tightly to Becca and all but runs down the hall to the stairwell. He doesn’t slow down until he’s two blocks away and he realizes he really did escape without being sighted. Slowing his pace to a normal New York hustle, he heads towards the train station and to their new lives.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #non winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #parent!bucky #nurse!bucky #becca barnes #kid!becca barnes

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fanficcollection · 5 years ago

Text

Tumblr-Girl (Part 13)

I don’t own the picture of Misha, if it’s yours please tell me.

Pairing: Misha Collins x reader Summary: the convention Word Count: ~2400 Warnings: just a few little mentions of panic attacks, angst, depression, mental illness and self doubt

Notes: I’d be glad for your feedback!

Part 1 Masterlist

Your POV

It was real. You were here. You dreamt of it since you realized that such conventions existed. It was real. It was real. It was real. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t dreaming. That all this was really happening. There was a smile tugged on your face when you went to the entrance, lots of people were in a queue, many dressed up as monsters, which on some point were on the show. You saw the legendary scarecrow, vampires, werewolfes, and so many more. Most of the costumes were incredible. You couldn’t look away. You just wore a normal black T-shirt and jeans. Nothing special, you didn’t have the time to think about a costume and even if you loved the show, you didn’t like cosplay that much. Next to the nearly perfect costumes of the other people you felt a bit out of place, maybe you would buy a fan-shirt or something on the merch-table later.

You didn’t really know how everything worked, so you tried to figure it out by watching the crowd. Suddenly somebody tapped on your shoulder “Everything alright? You seem a bit lost.” Somebody asked you. You jumped when you felt the touch and turned around “Whoa. Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you” the girl said at your reaction. She had a heartwarming smile on her lips and you tried to smile back “No, no problem, I was a bit sunk in my thoughts. I can’t realize that all of this is real.” You replied. “It’s my first convention and I have kinda no plan what to do. I read some information on the internet, but it’s all bigger and a lot more confusing than I had imagined” The girl laughed and nodded “If you want I can show you around, I was at conventions a few times and I know it can be overwhelming for somebody who hasn’t experienced one before.” “Yeah, that sounds nice.” You said, the people here were – like Dmitri said – more than friendly. “So, first of all. I’m Rebecca or you can call me Beck, if you want.” She introduced herself, again you nodded, but you didn’t say anything. You were sunk in your thoughts. “Yeah… I don’t wanna be curious, but if we will be hanging out together, it would be nice to know how I can call you.” she stated laughing. “Oh.. yes, sorry. I’m so sorry. My name is Y/N. ” you said embarrassed, you felt your head turning red and you looked at your feet. You were not able to manage the easiest talk. You felt tears well up in your eyes and you tried not to show your shame. But Rebecca seemed not to care about that gaffe and slowly started to make her way to the entrance. “Alright, so Y/N, you got your ticket?” she asked when she pulled her ticket out of her bag. You showed her your ticket, which you held in your hand since you were standing here. “Good. Therefore, you have to check in over there. I got a different category, I have to check in here, but I’ll wait for you inside. Okay?” she looked at you when you didn’t react immediately “It’s not that difficult, you can do that!” she encouraged you and shot you a little smile. “See you inside, Y/N”. Rebecca turned around and lined up at the entrance.

You were completely lost in your thoughts when you looked for the right line to enter the convention, there was so much going on, you were not sure if you could do that. Not for an entire weekend. When you found the right line, it all went very fast, one of the workers looked at your ticket, nodded and shove you into the room. It was a big hall, you didn’t know how to find Beck in this crowd, you looked around – nothing. Maybe she just walked away, she didn’t even know you, why should she wait for someone like you to show you around, she could just enjoy the convention on her own. She probably even knew some of the people here.

“Y/N!” somebody shouted, you turned around and tried to spot where it came from “Y/N!” you couldn’t see anybody until Beck stood in front of you “Hey. y/n. Are you ready? I know, there are many people, I hope that’s not a big problem for you. I’m afraid you have to roll with it.” You did not know what to say. Honestly, you imagined far less chaos, and far less people. “I think I’ll be okay, it’s just a little different to what I expected.” You told Beck and she smiled. “But the people are really nice. You will love them,” she said “come here, I’ll show you around.” You went with her into the building and tried to remember the locations, but soon you lost orientation and just followed Beck. “Are you here alone? Or are you meeting other people at the con?” Beck asked you, while you were standing in line at the restrooms. “I’m alone; I got the ticket from a friend, who couldn’t attend the con.” You explained, “That’s nice of him” Beck answered, “I’d like to have a friend like that.” She laughed.

Both of you decided to eat something before the program on the stage started, after Beck showed you around. Just after this little part you were really exhausted. “I don’t know if I can do the whole convention.” you said and Beck looked at you “I understand. It’s a lot. The people are so passionate and there are really a lot of them. Maybe you should pick a few items on the programme, which you really want to see and keep it steady the rest of the day. It can’t be fun if you are struggling most of the time.” She said and you thought about it. “Yeah.. that sounds like a plan. Wait, I think I got a program with me…” you pulled out a piece of paper, you printed the program at home, you wanted to be prepared for your first (and how it looked at the moment maybe last) convention.

“You should really watch Rob, Rich and Matt, they are so cute and funny and there won’t be too many people because there are Photo Ops are at the same time.” Beck suggested and you agreed “Yeah.. I don’t have a ticket for a photo-op so that sounds good.” You marked the R2M on your plan. “I really want to Jared, Jensen and Misha at least once. But I know their panels are probably the most crowded events at the whole weekend.” Beck nodded. “But they are really worth it.” She said. “Yeah.. I guess I’ll try at least one of their panels, maybe I can do better than I expect now.” You looked at the plan and circled a J2 panel. Beck looked at your plan “That looks good to me. So if you stay with your plan, your first panel starts in about two hours. You can relax at your hotel room until then. Then she took the pen and the paper with the schedule and scribbled something. “That’s my number. Call me, when you are coming back here. We can watch the panel together, if you want.” She gave you back the paper und stood up. “You know how you get to the hotel?” you nodded. “Okay, then… See you later, Y/N” Beck waved at you and disappeared in the crowd. Wow. Dmitri was fully right; the people here were close like a family.

You left the convention center and walked to your hotel. You got a little room, but it was nice and you could calm down a little. You thought about everything that has happened until now and decided to tell Dmitri about it.

“Hello Dmitri,

WOW. I’m here. I mean, at this very moment I am at the hotel, because there are really a LOT of people. Nevertheless, I was there for a few hours and I’m looking forward to the R2M panel today. To be honest I had to pick a few things, I don’t think I will be able to attend the whole convention, it’s too loud and too busy there. But I guess, if I choose the right things I can do that! J

And you were right, the people here are incredible. There is this girl, Beck, who helped me the whole day with getting to know everything. She really looked after me, that was so nice, I wish you were here to get to know her, I think you would like her!

Yeah, I guess, I just wanted to give you a short update on my convention experience so far. I hope you are well and you are getting more details soon.

Love, Y/N”

You pressed the SEND-Button, set a timer so you wouldn’t miss the panel and then put your mobile-phone away. After that, you tried to find comfort between the lines of your book. You really enjoyed being by yourself, you didn’t have to expect Jacob stopping by and wanting something of you, you could really do what you wanted, you haven’t had this for quite a time. After you calmed down you looked at the time, ten minutes until your alarm would go off, you decided to text Beck “Getting there in about 10min. Maybe we could meet up?” then you put your shoes took your bag and went back to the convention center. The panel you picked started in about 20 minutes, but if you wanted to find Beck in this crowd you needed to calculate some extra time.

It wasn’t as complicated as you expected it to be to find Beck in the crowd. She looked happy. “Good to see you back here. I met some other people I know from previous conventions I attended. If you want I could introduce you after the panel” she smiled. “Yes, that sounds good, I’m excited, it’s the very first panel for me” you said and Beck leaded you into the room to a nice place where not too many people were sitting. “I hope you’ll enjoy it” she said, then music started to play and Rob, Rich and Matt got on the stage.

Mishas PoV

I was still nervous. I wouldn’t meet Y/N until tomorrow, I arranged a little dinner which would take place with 6 fans, 5 of them random chosen and y/n, so she wouldn’t expect anything. I did such meetings many times, so it wasn’t something unusual for a convention. Nobody would care, nobody would detect my plan. I decided to give away the 6 tickets tomorrow during my panel. I was sure y/n would be at as many panels as possible, and I remembered the ticket number of the ticket I sent to her, so I was quite sure that my plan would work out.

Today Jensen and Jared kept me busy and we decided to crash the R2M panel, it started in about 10 minutes. We were sitting in the green room together, it didn’t happen that often that we were on a convention the whole weekend, normally we arrived later. But it was nice to recognize how everybody was connected; even the fans seemed to know each other. “Maybe we should do this more often” I said to Jared, I knew how much Jensen and Jared cared for the fans and how much they loved them. “Yeah, I’d like that. I like it when we got some time to really feel the convention-spirit. I really miss that, when we are coming just for our panels.” Jared agreed “And besides that I love to keep up with the rest of the cast. The last time I really talked to Rob or Rich before this weekend feels like an eternity away.” Jensen added smiling. “Speaking of those two…” Jared started and looked at the time “Their panel started 20min ago, I think it’s time to say hello” Jensen laughed “Okay.. Then, let’s go!” he took his jacket and waited for Jared and me to follow him.

When we were backstage I asked one of the workers for a microphone, after a confused look I tried to explain our little plan and after a few more minutes he got us a mic. Jared acted like a child on Christmas and I had to force myself to not break into laughter. Jensen took the microphone and when Rob asked a fan to ask the next question he jumped in. He tried to disguise his voice and asked “To which demon did you sell your soul to work with the three funniest guys on TV. ” Rob looked confused. He looked at the fan who was standing at the mic but she looked shocked “that wasn’t me” she whispered into the microphone. Rob looked to the other side of the room and the guy who stood there also shook his head. Then Rich grabbed his arm and whispered something. Rob nodded and laughed, then Rich took the microphone and said “I guess it had to be someone really vicious, because the ten years we got are clearly over and instead of hell hounds, which would be gracious, he sent us this three dorks to mess up our scenes.”

Jensen couldn’t hold himself and busted in laughter. There was a bit more of joking around but then we got on the stage. There were many people entering the room, it was a mess. Rob looked at us and rolled his eyes, but then he laughed. We joked around a bit when we heard a girl’s voice. First I didn’t understand what she was shouting, but then it got clearer “Is a doctor around? We need a doctor! Please call the ambulance.” We looked at each other for a moment then I jumped of the stage and run towards the voice. Jensen and Jared came directly behind me. “What’s wrong?” I asked the woman, who was shouting, but then I saw somebody on the floor “I think she passed out.” The girl said and pointed on the floor.

Part 14

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lilyvandersteen · 7 years ago

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Puppy Eyes Chapter 18

Nope, no smut yet, sorry, only more schmoop and fluff...

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you’re wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

Chapter 18: A Lot of Firsts

When Kurt had to leave for a dog walking assignment later that evening, Blaine felt a prickle of dread. Blaine had declared himself now, and handed Kurt his heart for safe-keeping. Did Kurt believe him? Did he want to be with Blaine? Kurt wasn’t going to slip out of his life again, was he?

Blaine didn’t want to seem clingy, but he also didn’t want to let Kurt walk away without any reassurances on this matter, so he offered to come with Kurt and help him walk the dogs.

It wasn’t until Kurt pointed it out that Blaine realised he was still naked from the transformation. It cracked the both of them up, and that bout of merriment instantly made Blaine feel better. He dressed quickly, and held Kurt’s hand all the way to the dogs’ homes and then to the park. It felt amazing. He sneaked a few glances at their joined hands, grinning happily, and that grin only widened when he caught Kurt doing the same.

“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out of their own accord for the millionth time that day, yet Kurt’s eyes lit up as beautifully as if it were the very first.

When Blaine gave Kurt the unicorn brooch and the accompanying letter, he got the reassurance he’d been craving. The letter made Kurt tear up and reel Blaine in close, murmuring that Blaine was the one for him too.

Blaine didn’t check if anyone was around before taking Kurt’s face in his hands and kissing him like his life depended on it.

Kurt drew away a few times to gulp in fresh air, and each time Blaine chased his lips as if Kurt provided the only oxygen he needed.

Blaine didn’t know how much time had passed when they finally remembered the dogs and took them back home, but he did know it wasn’t long enough by far.

Kurt was dog-sitting, so Blaine knew he couldn’t come back to Blaine’s apartment. But maybe Blaine could come with him? He needed to be close to Kurt. Preferably till death did them part, but he’d settle for right here right now.

Kurt seemed hesitant about letting him stay over, so Blaine gave him his most beseeching look. The one that even Pam had never been able to say no to.

“You don’t play fair,” Kurt grumbled as they walked towards the apartment where Kurt was staying.

Blaine, happy as a lark now, beamed at him. “All’s fair in love and war, beautiful.”

Kurt shot him a quick look, and a corner of his mouth ticked up. “Is that going to be my pet name from now on? What happened to ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’?”

Blaine shrugged. “Those are generic, and I use them for everyone. You deserve a special name just for you. And ‘beautiful’ suits you.”

That made Kurt blush, and Blaine just had to kiss him again because he was so adorable.

It wasn’t until they were lying in bed that Blaine initiated phase two of his wooing plan, and asked Kurt out on a date. He fist-pumped when Kurt said yes, and nodded off contentedly.

Then Kurt’s voice jolted him awake again. “Just so you know, we have an appointment at The Sweetest Thing Bakery tomorrow at four p.m. Make sure you include that in your date plans.”

“You rescheduled? Mrs Peters wasn’t angry that we missed our appointment?”

Kurt chuckled. “I pretended that you’d written the date down wrong.”

“Clever!” Blaine praised him. “I’m glad. She has the best reviews. And the best designs.”

“And hopefully scrumptious caaaaaake,” Kurt yawned.

“Sleep, beautiful.”

“Sweet dreams,” Kurt slurred, and then laughed, “because of the cake, geddit?”

He turned on his side, his head on Blaine’s chest, and was out like a light.

Blaine kissed the crown of his head. For a few minutes, he basked in the feeling of having Kurt with him again. Then, he started going over his date options. Their first date had to be perfect.

K&B

Of course, mandating that the date had to be perfect jinxed it. From the moment Blaine woke, he knew he’d have to adjust his plans. He’d counted on cold but dry weather, not the rain and cold wind that assaulted him as soon as he opened the window in the kitchen. That meant the walk through Central Park was out. Bummer.

Blaine busied himself making Kurt a delicious breakfast, making sure it would be ready by the time Kurt’s alarm clock went off, but Kurt didn’t even spare the breakfast tray a passing glance when he rushed past Blaine mumbling, “Dogs to walk. Back in half an hour!”

Blaine looked down at the tray he was holding and sighed. By the time Kurt got back, the eggs would be a congealed mess, the toast would be unappetizing, the fruit salad would no longer look fresh but brown at the edges, and the mocha would be ice-cold.

Oh, all right then.

Blaine sat down at the kitchen table and ate the breakfast intended for Kurt, grimacing when he drank the mocha, which was much too sweet for his taste. After that, he showered and dressed, and then made a new breakfast tray, timing it so that it was ready just when Kurt was due back.

Kurt and the poodles returned in the best of spirits, despite the weather, and now Kurt did notice the tray. “You made me breakfast? Oh, you’re the BEST! I’m starving! I forgot to make myself sandwiches yesterday.”

Kurt kissed Blaine square on the mouth before sitting down and wolfing the whole meal down in five minutes flat.

Then, he looked up at Blaine expectantly. “So what are your plans for today?”

“Still raining?” Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded.

“I guess a romantic walk in the park is out, then,” Blaine mused, and Kurt laughed as if Blaine had made an excellent joke.

Blaine praised himself lucky that he’d asked Ashton if there were any good exhibitions in the NYC museums. At least he had that to fall back on.

He looked up, meaning to tell Kurt they were going to the Met, but Kurt had disappeared. His bowl and plate stood in the sink, already rinsed, and his voice floated out of the utility room, singing a French song.

Blaine distractedly petted one of the poodles while letting Kurt’s singing wash over him, and then started on the dishes.

An hour later, Kurt and Blaine were on their way to the museum. Blaine had first stopped by his own apartment for Kurt’s present of the day. He’d had an umbrella made with the same puppy pattern as the book bag, and Kurt could really use that in this weather.

Kurt exclaimed over the umbrella, calling it über-cute. Outside, he opened it and offered Blaine his arm.

Blaine had never shared an umbrella with anyone before, and found it cosy and intimate. The wind still howled, and the rain still beat down on them, but the umbrella was sturdy enough to provide shelter, and the heat from Kurt’s body was a welcome solace against the biting cold.

When they reached the Met, the queue at the entrance made Blaine’s heart sink. He knew that Monet always drew a crowd, but this was simply ridiculous. They’d be queuing for hours, and in this inclement weather, standing still for so long wasn’t an appealing prospect.

He ran through Ashton’s other suggestions, and flagged down a cab to take them to the Museum of Natural History instead. The exhibit there was about newly discovered deep sea creatures, and when a class of third-graders came by with a guide, Kurt’s eyes shone and he followed them, soaking up every bit of information the guide doled out.

Kurt was keen to discover the rest of the museum too, and in the end, he only let himself be led out of the museum when his stomach started growling.

“We can always come back another day,” Blaine promised him.

Blaine looked at the overcast sky and chose a nearby sushi restaurant for lunch. It still wasn’t close enough for them to escape a sudden rain squall that drenched them in seconds, and they ran the last few yards, Kurt squealing and trying to protect his hair when the wind blew his hood off.

They stumbled into Gari of Columbus with dripping coats and squeaking shoes, laughing and shivering a little. In the restaurant, it was toasty warm, though, and Kurt slipped into the restroom to try and fix his hair.

“Ugh,” Kurt said when he came back. “I can’t get it into a decent coif. You’ll have to make do with the hairstyle I had when I was a sophomore in high school. Floppy bangs and all.”

Blaine smiled at him and cupped his cheek to give him a kiss. “You do look younger this way. But just as beautiful.”

After lunch, Kurt had to head back to the place he was staying to pick up the poodles for their midday walk, and then a few other dogs as well. Blaine grinned when Snowball and Summer greeted him enthusiastically. It was still raining, but Blaine hardly felt it as he ran with the dogs. Kurt flashed him a happy grin and upped his pace a notch.

After their run, Kurt was shivering again. Blaine hunted for a blanket in the apartment and wrapped Kurt in it, installing him on the sofa and hurrying to the kitchen to make them both tea. When he came back into the living room, Kurt was watching Casablanca, and stretched his arms out towards Blaine. Blaine offered him a cup of tea, and chuckled when that made Kurt pout. “So impatient, beautiful.”

Blaine kissed Kurt’s pout away and sat down next to him, encircling Kurt’s waist and sipping his own tea.

“So where is The Sweetest Thing bakery?” Kurt asked. “We have to make sure we’re on time today.”

Blaine beamed at him. “It’s not far, beautiful. Four blocks or so. So you can drink your tea and watch Humphrey and cuddle me and get warm again. Plenty of time for that.”

Kurt’s answering smile was wide and toothy, and he wiggled a bit closer still. “That sounds perfect.”

They arrived at The Sweetest Thing bakery twenty minutes early, and Kurt used the extra time to inspect the shop window. “I see what you meant about the best designs. These cakes are gorgeous. If they’re yummy, too, I’m sold.”

A gust of wind made them both head inside the shop, and they told the sales assistant that they had an appointment with Mrs Peters.

“Anderson-Hummel?” she asked.

“That’s us,” Blaine confirmed, and he felt Kurt squeeze his hand.

“What is it, beautiful?” he whispered, and Kurt blushed and whispered back, “I like that there’s an ‘us’ now.”

The girl behind the counter cooed. “Aww, you’re too adorable. Have you been together long?”

“Nearly a year and a half,” Kurt lied glibly.

“And you’re already engaged? Wow, I’ve been seeing my man for five years and not a peep about marriage!”

Blaine gave her his most disarming smile. “When you know, you just know.”

A voice behind him made a retching noise, and then hissed, “You disgusting fags, why don’t you get out of here before I break your neck!”

Blaine whipped his head around and saw a burly middle-aged guy, red-faced and looking furious.

Before he could say or do anything, Kurt retorted, “Why don’t you back to the Middle Ages, where you belong? Last I checked, gay marriage was legal. We have as much right to buy our wedding cake here as you do.”

The guy came closer, his hands reaching for Kurt’s neck. Blaine quickly got in front of Kurt and took on a fighting stance.

“Cut this out RIGHT NOW,” a woman commanded.

Blaine recognised Mrs Peters’ voice, but didn’t take his eyes off the angry guy.

“Mr Miller, if you have a problem with my clientele, I suggest you go elsewhere. I’m not having this kind of scene in my shop.”

Mr Miller looked at Mrs Peters, affronted. He’d clearly expected her to side with him. “Oh, fine. Your cakes suck anyway.”

He strode out of the shop and banged the door with all his might.

“Good riddance,” said Mrs Peters. “Now if you two would follow me, please. Anderson-Hummel, right?”

“That’s us, ma’am,” Blaine said. He grabbed Kurt’s hand, and together, they followed Mrs Peters.

Soon after, Kurt was deep in discussion with Mrs Peters about the design he wanted on the wedding cake. He drew several versions on a napkin, and promised to send the baker a digital version of the design by the next day at the latest.

Then, it was time to taste-test the different cake flavours. Kurt took small nibbles and closed his eyes every time a new taste hit him, his brow furrowed in concentration. It made Blaine smile.

Kurt pronounced the chocolate delicious but too heavy, shook his head after tasting the red velvet and vanilla options, made a so-so gesture about the carrot cake, wrinkled his nose at the pink champagne cake, but lit up when he tasted the coconut and lime combo.

“This is it,” he whispered, “This is the perfect cake.”

Blaine nodded. “Okay.”

Kurt took another small bite and moaned. “No, seriously, it doesn’t get any better than this. So good.”

Mrs Peters laughed. “That’s settled, then. So I’ll write down coconut and lime for the cake, and your own design for the decoration. Do you have my e-mail address to send the file?”

Blaine assured her they had the address.

“And what’s the wedding date?” she wanted to know next.

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other.

“We haven’t decided on the venue yet,” said Blaine. “It depends which one we’ll go with. If we pick the Bowery Ballroom, it will be the 7th of June. If it’s at the NY Public Library, it will be on the 14th of July. And the date for the Loeb boathouse is 9 September.”

Kurt cocked his head to the side. “I thought we’d decided against the Loeb boathouse? It’s going to be either Bowery or the Library, Mrs Peters. We’ll let you know as soon as possible. We’re visiting both places again next week, and then we’ll decide.��

Mrs Peters made Blaine repeat both dates and jotted them down with a question mark behind them.

As they filed out of the back room, Mrs Peters put a hand on Blaine’s arm.

“Hey…” she said. “Don’t mind that guy, please. Don’t you worry your pretty head about him. Your fiancé is right. Love is love, and it doesn’t matter to me that you’re two men. It shouldn’t matter to anyone. It’s nobody’s business but your own.”

Blaine swallowed and tried to smile, but it probably came out more like a grimace. “I’ll go pay the deposit at the counter, then.”

Nothing like striking while the iron was hot, so Blaine called both wedding venues to ask if he could come by again, this time with his fiancé. For the Bowery Ballroom, he made an appointment for Monday evening. There was no appointment needed for the New York Public Library. “We’re open until 5.45 today, sir.”

That gave them a little over an hour to go discover the place, so they took a cab there. As soon as Kurt entered the building, he seemed to be vibrating with excitement, and that enthusiasm increased with every detail he pointed out to Blaine, in reverent whispers. They stayed until the library closed, and as they went down the steps, Kurt told Blaine, “This is the right place for us. I can feel it in my bones. We can go check out the Bowery, too, but I don’t think I’ll change my mind. I see us getting married here.”

They picked up Thai take-away on their way back to the place where Kurt was staying. After eating, they took out the dogs for their evening walk, and then curled up on the sofa again until it was time for bed.

When Kurt laid his head on Blaine’s chest, Blaine blurted out, “I’m sorry our first date was such a mess. I wanted it to be perfect, but it all went wrong.”

Kurt raised his head. “Blaine, what are you talking about? There’s nothing about today that I would have changed. To me, it was perfect. A wonderful first date. I couldn’t dream up a better one if I tried.”

“B-but the weather…”

“I loved that it rained. That meant I got to share an umbrella with you. That was so romantic. I’d never done that before.”

“Me neither,” Blaine confessed.

Kurt beamed. “I like sharing firsts with you. I want us to share a lot of firsts. I couldn’t give you my first kiss ‘cause that one got stolen, but the rest of my firsts are all yours.”

Blaine smiled tremulously and pecked Kurt lightly on the lips, but then went back to his grievances about the day. “And I meant for us to go to the Met, but the queue was too long.”

“Aww, Blaine. The Natural History Museum was a much better choice. I loved it there!”

“And your hair got wet!”

“Yep. Yours too, and you looked so sexy with wet curls. I wanted to grab you right there and then and make out with you.”

“And then at the bakery, that guy nearly throttled you!”

“And you defended me, you brave knight in shining Armani.”

Kurt batted his eyelashes at Blaine and pouted his lips.

Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt.

When Kurt came up for air, he breathed, “Perfect. I’m telling you, perfect.”

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #puppy eyes #chapter 18 #enjoy!#fluff overload

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canaryatlaw · 5 years ago

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okay it’s late and I need to write. today was not bad, pretty average all around. I got like, 3 calls before my alarm went off at 8:45, which I refused to answer because like, I’m asleep, don’t bug me yet, and somehow I ended up waking up at 8:50 instead so I scrambled a bit but got into the court queue quickly and got set from there, the other side didn’t show which meant my client gets a default order (which means it goes into effect without the other party present because they had notice to come and chose not to) so that was a good start to things, and the judge was super chill about it too, some of them want us to like get testimony from the clients for the record or for them to ask the client questions but he was just like yup okay not here let’s go, so that was nice. I initially had a bunch of things to do today, but I was able to accomplish pretty much all of them with pretty good timing, so then I had some time with not much to do, so I decided to call the hospital and take care of this damn bill, the money had transferred to my checking account from my savings so they could get it from there......and I mean I know that savings are supposed to be for things like this but it’s just super frustrating when I’ve been working really hard to get like $500 a paycheck into it and I was finally hitting some good numbers, but now i’m down $2500, all because I make $4,000 too much a year to qualify for their program where the bill maximizes at $3oo and now have to pay $2500...it just really sucks. Afterwards though (or maybe before, I’m not totally sure the order I made the calls in but that’s not important) I looked up flights to NY for thanksgiving, and then I had to call them to do the actual booking because I had some travel credit from the several flights that got cancelled on us (because covid) so that trip at least is taken care of, so that’s like $300 I don’t have to drop, so I’ll take that. I’m pretty sure I have more credit around, I’ll have to take a look if I can get Christmas flights covered too, that would be nice. once it was all booked I forwarded the info to my mom, so she then called me and we talked for a bit. They’re stuck between moving limbo at the moment, apparently they’ve attempted two closings so far and both of them have fallen through, apparently there’s some issue with getting the money from the people buying our old house, and without that money they can’t move into the new house, so they’re currently staying in a hotel for a few nights until they can get it all figured out, since they already packed up and left the old house. but they think they can get it figured out soon so everything will be ready for thanksgiving. it’s funny, when we moved into the house we’re leaving now it was the day before thanksgiving (it was the one year we didn’t host that I can remember, my mom’s sister’s husband (so we’re not blood related), his family is all up here and they were doing a huge bit thanksgiving family thing and my aunt and uncle and cousins were coming up from NC, so that year we spent thanksgiving with them, we know their side of the family pretty well so it wasn’t super awkward or anything. but yeah, we talked for a bit and then I finished up some work and listened to some podcast episodes before starting to watch Chicago Fire, and paused at one point to watch some kpop videos since it’s been a while since I’ve watched any. I tuned into the news at 10 and then Jimmy Kimmel afterwards and then a bit of Seth Meyers (he had a great opening monologue). at some point I was going over work stuff because I’m handling 5 cases up tomorrow, all in the same courtroom, two of which are actually mine, 1 is my one coworker and the other 2 are from my other coworker, and I don’t know what prompted me to check the schedule but lo and behold I have a case up tomorrow that didn’t make it to my calendar, and of course it’s in a courtroom I’m not covering, so I had to send a panicked case note and calendar invite to my coworker who’ll be in that courtroom asking her to cover it, it shouldn’t actually be an issue since I’m covering one of her cases anyway, but I was just super anxious about figuring it out at the last minute. so tomorrow is gonna be a lot of fun, a bunch of clients are coming so our breakout room is going to be very busy lol. but yeah, I don’t think we’ll run into any real issues. After that I showered and started getting ready for bed, and now I’m here and it’s fuckng 2:45 am so I’m going to bed now. Goodnight babes. Sleep tight.

#daily journal #November 2020

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jestbee · 8 years ago

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June 8: A Bad Day

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 8 years ago

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27th July 2017

0645 and my alarm went off. That moment when you lay there and think "Is my job really worth it? Do I really need money to live?"... I got up and got ready. I was about the leave the room when I saw a package on the table - naturally, being the nosey person I am (thanks Dad), I read what it said. The white paper bag said "Hi guys, Michael here.... That's a Tiramisu for you!!! Enjoy xo". He is so adorable. I grabbed the package and took it downstairs to put into the fridge. I sat with Mel at breakfast. I put the dessert into the fridge, made my cheese roll for lunch and messaged Michael to say thank you. On my merry way, I left. I got to work and we again, didn't have anything to do. I quickly got on with my blog for the day before. Around 1030, Michael messaged back saying "No worries, I did it with my heart Charlie for you. Enjoy your day". He's. So. Adorable. Steve was up and out for work so I messaged him the picture of the package and the message. Kayly and I were given a small amount of work by another team so we managed to make ourselves look busy for a while. We had to take it really quite slow to ensure we weren't going to get sent home early, even though that looks pretty evident. We stuck it out until 1230 when we went for lunch. Lena, Kayly and I walked to the Spencer Outlet to go into Coles and the food court. I went for the walk only, I made a cheese roll for lunch in the morning. We got back after about 30 minutes, I spent the next 30 eating my lunch... We got given another small amount of work which would've taken me half an hour to complete but we stretched it out for a few hours. I don't really know how they have kept us here, they know we aren't doing anything. Nick came over to us and said that we were both being put forward for Salesforce training tomorrow. I said to him that there isn't really any point me doing it because it's my last day. There would be extra efforts trying to get us access and whatever else. He replied to me with "If you want to get paid then yeah there is point". I shut up then. Yes I do want to get paid but we weren't given access last week and we were specifically taken out of training because we didn't need it. Now people are going to waste their time giving me access and training... Kayly mentioned that would I be able to be trained even though I don't have a computer log in, Nick smiled and walked off. I presumed that meant no. Eventually, someone from Salesforce Hypercare team came over and checked Kayly's computer number for access but didn't check mine. I clearly wasn't having training which is fine by me. I emailed my two recruiters at the beginning of the week explaining that my contract was ending and that I wasn't going to accept work from them for a while as I was completing my farm work. I said thank you for the past opportunities and that I'd be in contact shortly. I would normally ring, but they NEVER answer. I've left voicemail's and waited a week before. Kayly phoned Lily on Tuesday and Wednesday and she's still waiting for a reply. Neither Lily or Rebecca contacted me back to either say thank you for letting us know or thank you for working for us the last 10 weeks and getting GREAT REVIEWS. So rude.

Kayly and I left work at 1700 which isn't bad for someone with no work to do. Hopefully payday won't be too bad. Mel and I are going shopping on Saturday before we leave. Mel wanted to buy some new clothes as she (we) haven't gone shopping for nice clothes since we arrived in Australia. We've only ever bought ugly clothes for $2 at KMart to get us by in the winter at work. We've chucked the majority of it away now. I'm only going to window shop as I don't really have the money to spend on clothes. I have to send money home monthly for my car so even though I've managed to save a fair bit, I still have to remember my bills and whatever else. Steve's working Saturday so it'll get me out. I'm excited.

I met Mel at Bourke Street Mall to walk to ABC to enjoy our final free prosecco night. We got inside and it was empty (compared to what it usually is like). I didn't think too much of it as it's not the season to be in Melbourne. Everywhere usually is fairly empty as its winter. There wasn't any queue and there wasn't any females... I was baffled. I said to Mel that I reckon there's no free prosecco, I didn't see 1 glass anywhere. We got to the front of the queue and Mel asked the waiter who said that they no longer do it as they weren't making a profit. We ordered a glass of wine each for $5 and Mel ordered a $5 pizza. After that, we left straight away.

I got home and Steve was chilling in the room. He finished work just before me, he was working in Chelsea today which was about an hour and half train journey away. He was desperate for the toilet the whole journey home which I was getting regular updates about. He's a keeper. Steve has work tomorrow starting at 0500 in the big buildings at Southbank. His alarm will be on for 0400. Luckily, it's only a short job for 4 hours so hopefully he'll be able to come back and have breakfast before it ends. He has another job in the afternoon starting at 1600 for about 8 hours. He's got good hours this week up until Saturday night so payday next Wednesday in Tassie.

At 1850, we went downstairs to get the free food. This week was pasta and salad. We joined the queue and sat down with Mel, Sharon and her cousin Louise. Louise arrived yesterday and has been travelling for a few years now. She is a qualified hairdresser which is great because I might ask her to trim my hair. I'm undecided. Louise worked on the Royal Caribbean cruise ship for ages travelling around everywhere. She worked in the hairdressing department. I was so interested in listening to her stories because I looked at doing cruise ship working before I looked at Australia. Staff aren't treated well but you visit so many countries, even ones you'd never heard of.

Steve and I stayed chatting to Sharon and Louise until 2230 which was really late for us. I had to still wash my hair and get ready for work tomorrow. Steve had to be up at 0400. They were both drinking and going out. They're Irish so they drink a lot but when they're together, it's awful. Their parents worry about them.

I got showered and sorted, in bed by 2300 which is a record for me. We fell asleep pretty quickly.

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fawnsean · 8 years ago

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Let Me In, Ch. 2

An Antisepticeye and eventual septiplier fanfic.

Previous.

Summary: It had been really fun to build Anti up for the whole Halloween takeover event, but that was over and done with. So why the hell was Jack hearing voices now?

Word count: 1703

Rating: T

Contains: Violence, paranoia, suspense, hallucinations.

Next.

/ / /

Jack could tell that he had overslept.

It was bright in his room, the light filtering through his plain curtains brighter than normal mornings. Jack shot awake with a start, only to curl in on himself with a gasp of pain. If he had felt bad the night before, he was absolutely feeling horrible now. His entire body was sore and aching in odd places, and his brief tumble down the stairs couldn’t quite cover it. And curiously, Jack still felt exhausted, as though he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. He was now more tired than when he had gone to bed in the first place.

Glancing to the clock, Jack’s breath caught in his throat. He had less than an hour if he wanted to get his video up on time. He snatched up his phone, where it sat on his side table, trying to figure out why the alarm hadn’t gone off in the first place. The screen remained dark.

“Damn it,” Jack swore aloud. He blamed YouTube for making him talk to himself.

He fumbled for his charger, trying to plug it in so he could bring his phone back to life. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to do so the night before. It was part of his evening ritual before he went to bed to make sure he had everything prepared, including making sure his phone was charging so the alarm could go off in the morning. Jack sighed. Obviously he had been much more tired than he thought to have overlooked something so damn obvious.

Jack threw off his covers, eager to get to his recording space to get his video up on time. He almost never missed his schedule, consistently uploading his videos like clockwork, and feeling a bit under the weather was no excuse to be late. He had said as much in his videos, reassuring his fans that even if he was in a sour mood or felt like crap, he would still do his best to provide quality content. He had no intentions of going back on that promise, especially with the start of the new year.

He swayed briefly once on two feet, a sudden rush of nausea overcoming him, but ultimately he shrugged it off. He made it to the bathroom, cringing when he saw his appearance in the mirror. The entire portion of his left face, extending from his brow to his hairline, was covered in a darkening bruise. The dark reddish hue was a stark contrast to his otherwise pale skin, and Jack sighed. There was no way to ignore it or brush it off. It was way too noticeable.

He quickly splashed water on himself, being particularly gentle around the bruise, as Jack hurried to get ready. Normally he’d make himself a pot of coffee first thing upon waking, but there was simply no time for that now. He practically staggered out of his bathroom across the hall to his office, sitting heavily down in his swivel chair. Jack booted up his monitors, and upon seeing the email from Robin with the edited version of the video he had sent him the previous day, Jack sent a silent prayer of thanks to his editor. Robin truly was a blessing, and with him taking some of the burden from Jack, it freed up a lot of extra time for him. Plus, it just made things easier in general.

Jack looked over the fifteen minute video, double-checking it to make sure it flowed well and there were no errors before uploading it. He repeated the process for the second video, only queueing it to upload a couple hours after the first. Jack then set about to record a new video, slightly hesitant. While his videos for that day would have the normal Jack, the videos he would record for tomorrow would feature a bruised-up Jack. He knew Robin was sure to ask about it, and Jack would just have to shrug it off and chalk it up to him being a clumsy loaf. His fans, however, would be a much different story. He remembered how things blew up for Marina Joyce when people thought abuse was a factor for her. Jack shivered. He hoped that nothing like that would happen. After all, it was just a minor mishap on the stairs. That was normal, right? It happened.

With a reluctant sigh, Jack booted up Subnautica and started his recording. It was best to just get these types of things over with.

/ / /

Robin had messaged Jack back not two minutes after he sent the recorded footage of Subnautica.

He hadn’t really wanted to reply, but there was no way to avoid it. He just wasn’t quite sure what to say. Apparently Jack was taking too long to answer, if the jingle of the Skype call was anything to go by. The tune gave Jack a start, who after a brief moment of hesitation, clicked on the little green icon.

“What the hell happened to your face, Jack?” Well, it seemed like Robin wanted to get straight to the point, then.

Jack rolled his eyes, trying not to bite back a reply. His friend was just worried, after all. “It’s Seán, dick.” That earned a small laugh from the other, as the two often joked about what to call Jack. “Anyways, I’m fine. If you had watched the first minute of the video you would have heard the explanation I gave to the fans.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the explanation for the fans,” Robin reasoned easily, “I wanted to hear it from you.”

And that had Jack sighing. He had gone over it rather quickly on the recording, not wanting to get too into the details. Robin deserved a proper explanation. “It’s nothing, really.” That didn’t mean Jack was going to give Robin a proper explanation. “Just fell down my stairs.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as Robin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound like nothing to me. How did that even happen?”

Jack bit his lip, not wanting to breach the subject of how Jack had been hearing voices. Well, voice, really. Singular. Only one voice. Still, that wasn’t something he wanted to advertise with his friends. “I just re-waxed my stairs last weekend, and my socks slipped on the wood,” Jack lied quickly, though he looked off to the side, not able to meet his friend’s concerned gaze.

Robin seemed to buy it, leaning back in his own chair with a sigh. “Damn, Seán. Be more careful.”

“I will,” Jack said in a small voice, heart clenching. Robin was too nice to him.

After the call Jack headed downstairs, removing his socks beforehand out of nerves. He hadn’t heard any voices since waking up, which was good, meaning that the sleep had definitely helped. Still, he could never be too careful. He’d rather not go tumbling down his stairs again. In the kitchen, Jack started a pot of coffee and thought about making some toast and eggs. Though it technically wasn’t breakfast anymore, Jack wanted to try and do his normal morning routine properly, including his breakfast meal with coffee.

The scent of freshly brewed dark roast flooded Jack’s senses, and he relaxed slightly with a sigh. The warmth settled nicely in his body, and Jack hummed pleasantly. He had been so on edge since waking, unsure how to tackle the odd events of the evening prior, though the coffee seemed to help with his nerves, if only slightly. Slightly was still better than none at all, though. Jack felt his eyes drooping, and he quickly set down his mug to keep from dropping it. He was still so damn tired despite sleeping nearly twelve hours. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

Whatever appetite Jack had worked up was gone now, which deeply concerned him. Sometimes he got too worked up in his recordings and accidentally skipped a meal, but him just being flat out not hungry was definitely not normal.

He grabbed his mug again, heading back upstairs to his recording room to get on with the day, figuring he’d just eat a bigger meal later to compensate for skipping breakfast. A sharp pain flared up in his left eye and Jack doubled over with a cry, the half filled mug of coffee shattering easily on the wooden steps. His hand reached up automatically to cover his eye, tears leaking out from the pain. Jack bit his lip. His eye felt like it was on fire.

He raced up the rest of the stairs, broken coffee mug mess forgotten as he made for the bathroom. Jack wondered briefly if the bruise on that side of his face had anything to do with it but, pushed that thought away. A simple bruise wouldn’t cause pain of this magnitude.

In the washroom, Jack ducked his head under the tap, turning it on and splashing water on it as one would do if they got chemicals in their eye. That’s what it felt like to him, anyways, some kind of chemical burn. It was impossible, but the pain was definitely real. The heated sensation began to fade as the water continued to run, and Jack heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what the fuck caused that, but it was damn painful.

Turning off the tap, Jack straightened to look at himself in the mirror. He frowned slightly, grabbing a hand towel to dry his face. There was something off about his reflection, he just couldn’t place it. He placed the towel over his full face, giving himself a quick pat down. As he removed it, Jack noticed the way the eyes, his eyes, were watching him so intently. There was a toothy grin on the face in the reflection, one that Jack was sure he wasn’t making.

And then the laughing returned, in his voice, the lips in the mirror moving as though they were the source of the laughter. It was loud, ringing, and right in his ears, and all Jack could do was watch in horror as his own reflection was acting as though it were a different being.

Jack screamed.

#antisepticeye #anti #antisepticeye fanfiction #jse fanfiction #septiplier fanfiction #endgame septiplier #robin is a good friend #when will mark actually appear lmao #im going in for the long haul on this one #the warnings apply more to this chapter #get ready folks #fawn writes #lmi

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lalorrunningclub · 7 years ago

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Melbourne Marathon 2018 by Kirsty Branagan

Last year I had the pleasure of running the 10km event at Melbourne Marathon with some amazing runners, Laura and Renee. This year, I knew I didn’t want to do the 10km again, and as I have a half marathon coming up, I didn’t really feel the need to run the event at all.

I have always wanted to volunteer at a major event, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity! I knew Paul Tait had volunteered last year and intended to again, so I got in touch with Tim Crosbie, who is the Elite Athlete Coordinator, and asked if there was anything I could do to help him out. About 5 minutes later, I was duly appointed ‘Elite Athlete Assistant’, a role I shared with Melissa. What the job actually entailed I wasn’t certain, all I knew was that for the weekend of Melbourne Marathon I would be busy!

Well, busy is an understatement! Due to the aforementioned half marathon coming up, I needed to do a 19km training run.. and I needed to be in the city on Saturday afternoon, and back again early Sunday morning. I know what you’re thinking.. ‘it makes total sense to get hotel rooms and stay in the city all weekend’. Well, Mel, Kaz (who was also volunteering) and I agreed! I did my 19km around Princes Park, incorporating Parkville parkrun, and then we headed to the MCG to begin our official duties (actually, Kaz and Taity had already begun theirs on the Thursday night when they did an airport run for one of the athletes).

We arrived to the MCG and Tim came and met us with our AAA passes. Access All Areas? We would be sure to take advantage of that over the course of the weekend! We went down to the Elite Athlete and Pacer area, which just a couple of weeks ago was a change room for some debacle occurring in the last weekend of September. We helped to set up the room, doing odd jobs such as laying out Athlete bibs, running up to the outside broadcast area (OB for those playing at home) for water (and yes, we may have come back with boxes of chips, muesli bars and lollies, but they said we could take whatever we wanted, who are we to say no!) Soon it was time to head around to the main gate and bring all the Elite athletes into the rooms for their briefing. When Tim went through the details with the athletes, including introducing Mel (who was conveniently out of the room, I think dealing with a turtle) and I, I was amazed to see these inspirational athletes looking to me for assistance! I had to remember to only introduce myself as KB for the weekend as these athletes had no idea who Kirsty was!

Once the briefing was over, we continued to help with set up, and it was time to go through the plan for early the following morning. I explained to Tim that I don’t have a great sense of direction (as anyone who has been in the Kuber would know), so he promptly worked out a schedule which had me taking the Elite 10km runners for the 10min walk to the preferred start area by myself, without even a pacer group to lead the way. Great plan Tim. Fortunately we then all walked the path we would be taking, which also helped Kaz as she was Chief In Charge of ‘No you can’t come in’ at the preferred start area. Tim causally wandered across roads, saying ‘these will be closed tomorrow’, however he failed to acknowledge that they were very much open to cars at that particular time. We managed to avoid being run over, and with a few key landmarks I felt like I may be able to get the athletes there on time.

Mel, Kaz and I made it to our hotel room with just enough time to flake out before dinner. We got changed as it was getting a bit chilly. I was very grateful for my Melbourne Marathon Event Team jumper. After eating way too much food, we were walking back to our hotel and my phone rings. Tim is at the front of our hotel with a car parking pass to let us in under the MCG on event day. We met him (and William, who had flown in from Kenya that evening and was due to run a marathon a few short hours later!) then made our way up to our room, via the IGA to purchase essential supplies (I still can’t work out how cans of Moscato are essential, but apparently they are!). Suddenly it was way past bedtime and alarms were set for the horrific time of 4.30am.

It continues to amaze me that waking up to a ridiculously early alarm on an event day doesn’t seem like a chore, and it turns out this is also true when volunteering. We quickly got ready, packed our stuff and checked out of our hotel at 5.15am. We got into the car to find yet another parking ticket! How infuriating, as this time we actually put money in the meter (we won’t talk about the parking ticket we received earlier when we may have overlooked the whole ‘meter’ part of the sign). When we arrived at Brunton Ave, we flashed our car park pass and drove around the barriers to get to the car park queue. A queue at 5.30am?! Ah, they are security checking cars. We got through that fine (I think the security guards questioned their career choice when they got to our boot full of day old running gear and leftover cans of moscato!) and traveled into the bowels of the MCG to park the car. Speaking of bowels.. ah, no, wait.. that’s a story for another time.

There were already a few athletes in the Elite room when we got there, so we said a quick goodbye to Kaz who made her way to the preferred start area ready to defend those elite portaloos like her life depended on it, and Mel and I got to work checking Athlete names off, stocking the fridge with more water, letting any athletes who had missed the briefing know what the process was, and generally marvelling at the calm atmosphere in the room.. it sure wasn’t like the last carriage on the South Morang train usually is!

Soon it was time for Mel and Tim to escort the marathoners across to the start line. I waited in the rooms with the 10km and Half Marathon athletes, and very soon I was calling the 10km athletes to be ready to walk with me. There were about 15 elites entered in the 10km, and I was rather horrified that despite almost all the names being checked off the list, only 4 women were ready to walk with me. It appeared I had failed already. Charlotte Wilson, one of the athletes, promised to vouch for me that I had given plenty of time warnings. I sent a panicked text to Tim saying most of the athletes had disappeared (note to all, probably don’t ask me to babysit!). He wasn’t concerned, so the girls and I walked over. As we crossed the bridge, and I was trying to count the ramps to make sure my careful landmarks were going to guide me to the right path, I was accosted by a leaping giant jumping on my back. Thanks Murph, was great to see you! Amazingly, I saw Mel walking towards us, which meant I must be going in the right direction! She was heading back to the rooms to collect the Half marathoners, and return the marathoners clothing to the room #gbb.

We made it to the start line, and incredibly the other 10km elites turned up there too, they had been warming up and found their own way to the start. I met up with Kaz and Taity, who was preparing to ride alongside the lead female in the Half marathon. The excitement built as the 10km runners prepared to start and before I knew it, they were off, and we were keeping our eyes out for awesome LRC runners. We managed to spot a few, and yelled out (sure, most of them took a second to work out who we were in our event staff uniform, but we got lots of happy waves!) Mel soon arrived back with the Half marathoners, and while we waited for the start we couldn’t help but make conversation with our favourite event MC, famous in LRC for his Sunset Series work! He may have spotted us as we excitedly cheered some LRC people over the start line (‘oh, I know that cheer, the ladies from Lalor Running Club must be here’!)

Soon enough the half marathon runners were on their way, and as we cheered everyone over the line, we couldn’t help but realise how starving we were! We went back to the rooms and scoffed various muesli bars, packets of chips and one or two lollies as well. Tim had gone up to the finish line to see the 10km winners through, and we made our way up there to soak up some atmosphere before our day got busy again.

Mel had the walkie talkie wired up and was able to listen to the race progress. It seemed like no time at all before first finishers in the half and full were nearing the G. The finish line was a buzz of activity, with Brett Robinson coming through the Half Mara finish line just 64 minutes after we had seen him off at the start! The really funny part was that Melanie Panayiotou was due to come through as first female Half marathoner at almost exactly the same time as Liam Adams was due to finish as the first marathoner. The finish line ribbon staff didn’t know which way to look, and as for the press they were scurrying everywhere! I was firmly planted at the marathon finish line though, as my next task was to chaperone Liam Adams from the minute he crossed the line, right up until the presentations around 90 minutes later.

I was a little intimidated. What if this Elite Athlete didn’t want weirdo KB following him everywhere? What if he demanded I get him a pizza? (I’m pretty sure that’s what I’d be asking for if I’d just won a marathon in the time it takes my children to get their shoes on in the mornings). Well, I had nothing to fear. Liam was not in the least demanding, simply asking for a bottle of water. Suddenly, I was very sought after though, as all the press had to go through me to get to Liam! I was asked to check if he would be willing to do a live cross for the Today Show. He was most willing, and on the way to the quiet area they were filming from we stopped a few times for photos and a couple of quick bite interviews. While he was being interviewed, I managed a sneaky text to my mum to let her know what I was doing. She was very excited to know that I was just off screen of the interview she was watching (it’s as close as she will get to having a celebrity for a child, the poor dear). I hadn’t seen Kaz for a while, it turned out she was looking after Dominic Ondoro who had come second, and he preferred to wait downstairs in the Elite room. Meanwhile, Sinead Diver (my 9 year old’s hero) was powering home for a record breaking marathon win, and Mel was lucky enough to be chaperoning her.

It was incredible to listen to Liam speak, not only during his interviews, but also just in his relaxed chats with us while he waited for his next task. I expect to be basically on my death bed if I ever manage to complete a marathon, but he was coherent, friendly and more than happy to chat to anyone. I think my favourite part was actually leaving him to meet with and chat with his family. His partner Charlotte happens to be an elite athlete herself, having come third in the 10km (and also a lovely down to earth person, see above about vouching for me!) so she was able to be on the ground, but the rest of his family were in the stands watching him. The other good thing about him being happy catching up with them, was that it gave me a few sneaky minutes to check out the half marathon finish line. I got to see a few LRC come through, and had blubbering hugs with Renee and Hayley, among others.

I saw Kaz come up from the rooms with Dominic, so I knew that it was almost presentation time. I went to get Liam, and delivered him safely to the presentation tent (amazing that these runners can go 42.2km on their own, but need an escort to go 20m to get a prize!).

Once the presentations were over, we had a few odd jobs to do, mainly tidying the Elite room (which looked like the aftermath of a really tame party - just water bottles and muesli bar wrappers strewn around!) and making sure that all the athletes had what they needed. Then we got to spend a bit of time at the finish line waiting for LRC peeps.

It’s an incredible experience seeing the first runner through the finish line, but so amazing to also see the some of the last runners through and know that they have worked so incredibly hard for 7 hours to cover the distance. Soon enough, we were off to the pub to celebrate with our LRC heroes.

I have already put my name down to volunteer in the same role in 2019, I had such a blast supporting everyone! A massive thanks to Tim for the opportunity, Mel and Kaz for spending the weekend with me, Sim for the random Saturday night wine, and Taity for the jumper.

#lalorrunningclub #lrc

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readfelice-blog · 7 years ago

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moominland chronicles fünfzehn: felice vs the german health care system

Hello you,

It’s 4am on Friday morning, I’m lying in bed with one of my 3 flowered ikea lamps burning away, holding my cuddly pig tight to my chest whilst I tap out this blog on my iphone, balanced on a pillow.

I cant sleep.

I’m going to get a taxi to hospital in 5 hours.

Before we start all that please administer any of the below music to yourself as an accompaniment, I’ve been dipping my toes into the clear water of pop shoals this week, I might be the last person to have listened to blond (an article in vice insisted upon me lining it up on my google play - still no cd player, I know):

Frank ocean

Nikes (song, always a fan of a big opener on an album)

https://vimeo.com/179791907?ref=em-share

Blond (album, yes you've probably heard it already)

https://www.discogs.com/Frank-Ocean-Blond/master/1046042

I'm also late on the train for Mitski I’m sure, but the words, restrain in her voice and divergent harmonies (discordant, is that better?) are searing through me, might listen again in the hospital tomorrow.

Though perhaps as she grows older she wont long for that kiss quite as much as she does now, because prince charming will never save her really (though she does acknowledge that from time to time on this album)

Mitski

A horse named cold air (song)

https://youtu.be/ce3m-o1pZqY

Be the cowboy (Album)

https://mitski.bandcamp.com/album/be-the-cowboy

And just this one song, which kind of speaks frankly from my heart a little, or at least I sympathise with, though in a fuller sense my situation is very different and it’s only my little brain that identifies with the lyrics.

SZA: the weekend

https://youtu.be/PALMMqZLAQk

So then.. youre suited and booted musically, lets press on shall we? After all I mentioned hospital, it would be cruel just to taper off now.

Heres my small brain again:

Fuck the fucking german health system, fuck all those uptight bigoted cunts that put the phone down on me this week, fuck my insurance for charging me since july and slyly adding it to my bill, fuck the man at the tk queue yesterday who aggressively shouted at me for talking on the phone with my sister, about my illness, at the first opportunity that day after a very strange experience with the gynaecologist.

Ok,

I’m breathing, my small brain is retracting, lets continue a bit less aggressively now.

Health health health, we’re jumping back on the theme from last week, because sometimes illness doesn't go away, and as this blog is my warts and all document of the weird happenings of my life, I am going to be very very open about whats happening to me this week.

So I’m bleeding, like all pre menopausal women do who dont take contraception that inhibits it, thats what was happening in Paris, thats what has been happening for 3 weeks.

I’ve been bleeding for 3 weeks, yes.

I had really bad period pains last time round, which is unusual for me these days, I took buscopan plus, i soldiered on, then it stopped for a week, then it returned, light some days, heavier seemingly at the weekends. I pigheadedly pushed through physically exhausting weeks of cleaning, travelling, working, I’m a freelance cleaner, I don't get sick pay or holiday pay, I have to work or I can't pay rent.

I wrote a blog about it last weekend. But that was just before the blood clots starting coming, when the first one fell out it plopped in the toilet, I was so shocked I fished it out and curiously studied it (warts and all, I’m sick of skirting the weirdness in my life: its there: get used to it). I thought it was a dead baby, it was monstrous and displayed a horrid kind of plasticity as it eerily shifted round the jar in my hand I was gently coercing. It was an alien, more like rosemary's baby than my cherub cheeked nephew.

That was MONDAY.

I thought, ok the babies fallen out, now it’ll surely stop.

On sunday the bear got in touch, he'd been trying to phone, he was annoyed he couldn't get in contact, he was horny. I told him I was still bleeding, he insisted I go to the doctors, in his very forthright way, he sent me money to go even: because i was clueless about my insurance at that point. I knew i’d been getting letters I couldn't read from tk (die teckniker, german health insurance provider) for months, since I stopped working at the hostel, but I’d just carefully ignored them.

I didn't have the money to pay for health insurance.

I botched my first attempt to see a gynaecologist, I made an appointment online but the transfer the bear made was not in my bank so he asked me to phone them and check payment methods. When I did the receptionist point blank refused to speak English to me, my quandary was simply, “Do I need cash today?” But she was haughty and unsympathetic, another colleague took the phone, who even through garbled understanding felt kinder but it soon transpired that my appointment was for November 1st not October 1st.

“Im very ill i dont think I can wait that long.”

I phoned Meoclinic to be told by a woman with razors in her voice who suddenly became sickeningly sweet after she’d told me it was €400 just to see someone. I felt like the pleasure she was deriving from me tripping over my words and despairingly saying that was to much money for me, was enough for her to take home and masturbate over later, in her silky agent provocateur corset, on silk sheets, with a flute of champagne on the bedside table.

I gave up for the day and decided that tomorrow I’d go to the doctors I went to for my sti test a few months ago, they were very nice. They spoke english, they had open appointments the next day at 18h.

TUESDAY

More clots started coming, big, gloopy, just pouring out of me, they were announced by a tirade of blood, I was soaking through organic pads at an alarming rate.

So that wasn't the baby on Monday then.

I went to clean first, I cant afford to not clean for reasons stated above, at an office where the woman who employs me talks to me through gritted teeth as if our every interaction is painful to her.

Lowly pauper girl, know your place.

Anyway due to logistical issues she had probably not envisaged, I didn't do the whole job and left early. I walked out on to the money lined streets of Uhlandstrasse, Cara Delevine’s svelte androgynous eyes staring out at me from various glass paned monoliths, and sat on a moth eaten bench, very upset from the shift, feeling utterly worthless, responsible and at fault, bleeding.

Then I had a cigarette, collected myself and went to tk: Round 1.

I waited, gushing out blood, in line for 25 minutes to see the receptionist, then a further 10/15 to see the sales girl. I dont have to pay them straight away but when november comes I will have to pay them 720+€ , plus from then on 180€ a month, from an average wage of 800€.

In retrospect I was probably fully within my right to protest starting the contract from July 1st, but I was so grateful for someone health related to be talking to me in English and perhaps it will stand in my favour now the hospital bills will be tallying up.

I left with no card or proof of insurance.

I went home, lay down, then showered, laced my trainers and went back into the world depleted, to Mehringdam to see the emergency doctors, it was raining heavily outside.

They were different this time, I had no proof of insurance but I had the bears money so I was paying cash, I waited dutifully and wrote in my diary.

It was a different female doctor, a more boxy and less vital woman than the previous medic I’d met at the same clinic. About halfway into my bloody tale of woe she stopped me panic stricken.

“You know this is a doctors surgery, you have to go to a gynaecologist.”

“Ok, so you cant help me.” - i start putting my coat back on.

A pause.

“Can you at least refer me to one? I’ve had a hard time trying to find a gynaecologist, I can't really speak German, people have been very rude to me so far, I came back here because I remember people were kind and tried to help me, even though I wasn't sure it was the right place.”

We go out to reception where I stand in front of 2 receptionists who speak in German and totally ignore me, the doctor hands me some measly bits of paper with contact details printed on them and hurries away. Shaken from my bloody tale of woe I imagine she just sits in her office for 10 minutes alone obsessively sterilising her hands and shuddering.

I continue to look at the 2 women in front of me who carry on as if I am invisible for a further 5 minutes, I tell them I’m going to the toilet and then coming back, they brush me off. More blood pours out of me. I return and finally they allow me to pay them, I plod back out into the rain and miserably wait for a bus, head home via the shops and climb back into bed.

WEDNESDAY

Is a national holiday, so I can't sort anything, my client offers me the day off, I take it. I make 9 drawings for my project, bounce the rough edit of the album I’m working on, pull myself to the dance studio I’ve started to rent to practise my live show. Have a long overdue singsong, though I can't really dance i can still sing.

Sunday edit: I’ve since missed 2 bookings at the studio because of this infernal bleeding, hope I can go back soon, it was utterly riveting to finally find a place I could sing as loudly as I wanted.

It's a glorious day even though blood still rains, I’m not cleaning, I’m doing what i really want to do.

THURSDAY

I need to be at my clients early, but I go via the apotheke on the way, there a pharmacist advises me on the best way to take iron and vitamin supplements, sells me ibuprofen and alerts me to the gynaecologist upstairs, but she’s only open till 13h, my job is supposed to finish at that time.

I hum and haa as I hobble to my clients and when I get there decide to finish the job early and see if I can get an appointment.

On the way into the building there's a system of doors, I enter alongside an elderly gentleman with a walking stick and we have quite the time not understanding each other, me holding doors for him, him very jovially propping them open with his stick. I have no idea what’s being said but something tender and wonderful is occurring between us that puts a lightness back in my step.

This reception is slick and clean, the receptionist is neat and elegant. But the doctor isn’t there. They wouldn’t accept my tk insurance anyway, they’re going on holiday till November.

Ok,

I leave and just flop down on the street outside, I’m supposed to be doing a double clean today but I have a 2 hour window before my next job, which is only a 15 minute walk away. I’m getting closer to seeing someone. Still crouched down on the street, still bleeding, I dig out the contacts handed to me, one is for a doctors I’ve called before. I call 2 numbers from the 4 sheets I have, both go through to hard voiced women who utterly refuse to attempt to speak English to me and relish the goodbyes they bestow before they coldly put the phone down. To the second one I say in English:

“I’m really sick, but if I don’t speak German I am just going to continue to be sick, is that what you’re telling me?”

I found a list on google, theres a male gynaecologist just up the road, a man rummaging in my lady bits is a bit disconcerting but truly I’m beyond pride now.

This reception is more modest, I place my cleaning bucket on the floor and then just start with

“I’m losing a lot of blood, can you please help me.”

He’s in.

These receptionists are gorgeous humans, they speak to me in broken English, they’re shocked I’ve been bleeding for 3 weeks, yes he will see me, please take a seat.

He’s a big warm man with no sexual energy, I tell him everything, I feel so grateful just to be able to see him that I’m bowing as I say thank you. I get sent to a little room, remove my trousers and knickers, get let into another room, climb on the chair, he inserts the spy camera dildo (ultrasound) device inside me, then on the screen we look at a ball like thing inside my womb.

Hes glowing when he tells me its probably a very early pregnancy, he’s so excited, though it’ll most likely be a miscarriage, but he paints a future where my little fetus determinedly survives the bloodletting and in 9 months time arrives in my life.

I cover everything in blood, which freaks him out.

“You’re really bleeding a lot.”

He gives me the ultrasound photo, then after some confusion I go to the nurses and deposit a urine sample on the counter of another room.

“Thank you so much for seeing me.”

“Of course: you have been bleeding for 3 weeks.”

As I wait in the reception for the test results a new future, inconceivable before this point, rolls out before me, where I have the baby and take the government stipend to look after it as a single mother, I thought I didn’t want kids but something seems so precious about this vision. It’ll just be me and my little ball of love, together in some warm cosy flat in Prenzlauer Berg, surrounded by all the other Berlin mothers.

The test is negative, a jolt of dismay passes through me, the vision is shattered, I have to go to the hospital he says. They give me the bill, without proof of insurance I pay in cash, thanking the bear silently. He also tells me to go to my insurance and get a letter, because the hospital will really cost a lot.

So I go home, breathe and collect myself, go back out. Spend over an hour wandering around looking for a photo kiosk for my insurance card (not blind> I’m using google maps to try locate one), finally I find it nestled into a dark part of the s bahn station, it costs double what the machine costs but I just eat the charge, earlier I’d spend 30 minutes wandering around the crossroads outside Leopaldplatz: the fotofix on the map was apparently invisible, I need a picture. I then wait for another 30 minutes to have my photo taken.

When I get to the u bahn where tk is there is a fotofix booth right there, to my left as I walk out of the station, I really hold myself back from screaming and kicking over all the chairs arranged outside the cafe before me. I finally manage to call my sister and it's a glorious funny loving chat, cut short by the aforementioned man in the tk queue.

I tell him in english which he insists he doesn't understand, that I am having the day from hell and that was the first time I’ve managed to speak to that person, he abuses me again in German but then stands very far away from me, the shame weaving around him, I curse him, but its a little thing, just that I hope he gets eaten by spider babies.

Don’t take yourself too seriously.

I retrieve my letter from the receptionist, the same sales woman I spoke to on Tuesday who doesn’t recognise me at all.

It’s getting late in the day, I call back my sister and head to Charite Campus Mitte, as I get there it dawns on me this is where I was an extra on an art video shoot around 3 weeks ago.

There is no discernable entrance, it seems mostly deserted. I travel up in a lift towards the gynakolgie department, but when I exit the skybent box that is my vehicle there is no clear signage towards it, just a door to an emergency exit staircase, wind billowing behind it, with a note in fluoro yellow fixed on its metallic facade and a bridge / corridor leading to empty waiting rooms.

I give up, decide I’ll go to the address given to me by the doctors tomorrow. I’ll go home and sleep now.

Home, I eat then I crash, I get into bed at 19h, I’m still here its now 6am and I’ll try sleep a bit more before I get a taxi at 9am.

I’m scared

It’s like some sick version of the night before christmas, black humour and absurdity have been welcome companions but armour fades in bed, so writing this in the knowledge I will share it with the online community has been the only thing I can do to douse the fear.

I’ll probably have to beg receptionists later but I just hope I get to someone who can start to mend me, because the blood is still coming, for the first time since it started it stained my sheets last night but I’ve wiped them down a little.

Sunday edit: the sheets are now in the wash.

Saturday edit: they did see me, I’m having an operation on monday at 9:30, the saga continues because I have to rush back to the gynaecologists first on monday to get a note so I can be operated on : as by the time I got out of hospital on friday the gynaecologists surgery was closed and nothing is open on the weekends.

And on the anaesthetists form where it asked me who would be collecting me or looking after me for 24 hours after the procedure I stubbornly wrote noone. Though my mentor will be around as I swallowed my pride and asked her.

And, of course, I just expect more bullshit: that was my dads very astute advice:

“Expect more bullshit Felice.”

So then, yes I should speak German, yes I should of sorted my insurance, yes I’ve been irresponsible.

Saturday edit: I’ve been utterly irresponsible and disrespectful to the country I live in, I MUST learn German and make more of an effort to learn their culture, right now I’m truly an idiot abroad.

I might cancel all my jobs next week as well if I’m really sick, I might not be able to go to Krakow and watch Eartheater,

Saturday edit: All my jobs are cancelled, one of the days next week is my birthday, which I’d scheduled a double clean on so perhaps it’s not all bad.

But I’m not going to see Eartheater, if you’ve heard irisiri though ( LISTEN TO IT, I IMPLORE YOU, MORE THAN ONCE, on the first listen it’s quite harsh: https://alexdrewchin.bandcamp.com/releases) then you’ll immediately understand that not going to her show because I’m having my uterus forcibly wedged open and something cut out of it, is utterly appropriate, it’s like missing formula one because you got hit by a ferrari.

I hope I’ll be better by turin.

Saturday edit: very much.

I will still finish this project whatever happens.

Saturday edit: Now I have a week off it should help.

But I’m not 100% sure how I will make ends meet this month.

Saturday edit: Perhaps the polyp they cut out of me on monday is really an alien and I get paid hush money not to leak the story to the press.

I really miss the nhs, its a big soft Pugsy bear I just want to hug and hold and thank for everything it’s done for me over the years.

The german health system is an amalgamation of all these callous female receptionists, ignoring you and filing their niles whilst you just bleed out in front of them.

But still, I’m stubborn, its a test and i will overcome it whatever it is. I am not leaving berlin, I am standing taller, stronger and more powerful than before. I’ve experienced completely new angles and feelings this week, it’s been abhorrent but kind of sickly enjoyable as well. Life is always entertaining as it energetically throws its bounty of strangeness, cruelty and beauty (etc) at you.

It’s all good fun, even the dark days.

I’m going to try get a bit of shut eye now, might move my alarm back a little see if I can get 2 hours before i wake up to get a taxi.

Take care everyone, if you made it to the end then I guess thank you for reading as well, it’s a long fraught one this week eh?

#die teckniker #german healthcare #idiot abroad #self growth

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olwog · 8 years ago

Text

So, we’re off to Ibiza or more accurately, we’re going to the Costa del Folk which is a music event like no other and, on this occasion includes a little bit of excitement with the Manchester Airport Security Services when both ‘yours truly’ and the Pilgrim are exposed as ‘mules’.

The event is not necessarily on the Costas and its not all Folk. It’s a great gathering of people who come together with the artists and enjoy a great cross section of music in a four star hotel for a few days in the sun; what’s not to like?

So the first day goes like this…

Manchester airport is not my favourite, it’s manic beyond belief and we seem to be on a much elevated state of security. We stayed at the Clayton last night, it’s on the airport and walkable to all terminals with T3 and T1 being particularly accessible. We’re going From T3 but chose the shuttle bus as it’s still dark at 0440 and cold to boot. The UK is having what Carol would refer to as an Arctic Blast and as we step out of the hotel reception we get an extremely chilly reminder of the winter just gone. It’s a warning shot from nature to delay the sowing of tender plants and heed my dad’s mantra “ne-er cast a clout till May is out”. He explained it to me once that in the North this meant until the month of May becomes the month of June but further south it means wait until the ‘may blossom’ is out which is usually a little earlier. Either way, it’s good advice and any plants set a couple of weeks later will easily catch up those that were hurried into the ground and bitten by a late frost.

The Pilgrim is awake now having gone back to bed at 0425 because it wasn’t 0430, “every little helps”1 It has to be said that it was a little later than planned when we drifted off to sleep last night, or should i say this morning. The shuttle driver has been either well trained or had a happy pill and grabs our luggage with a cheery “You are going to T3 aren’t you?”. It’s a rhetorical question to ensure we’re on the right bus and he doesn’t wait for a reply.

The journey is only 5 minutes but we’re grateful to be set down with only a short walk to the escalator taking us to the check-in hall. It’s definitely an ungodly hour but the there is a queue at the Ryanair desks already and, like us, the majority are going to the festival. There’s enough silver hair to stir the fantasies of an undertaker, some of them we’ve seen on previous trips and all fingering passports and boarding cards nervously as we approach the self-check-in area. It’s populated with scanners and weighing machines where hold baggage is labeled by us punters saving time and reducing the number of jobs to make the process cheaper.

Although the whole procedure is unfamiliar and there is the odd hiccup it does work surprisingly well and within a few minutes we’re heading back along the hallway to security.

In fairness to Manchester Airport authorities, they have staff at several points on the way into Security proffering plastic bags to put our small tubes of toothpaste, aftershave etc. The Pilgrim has stressed the importance of this since our trip last month when I was stopped because I had 5 ml of aftershave in a bottle. The whole process was quite theatrical in as much as all of my hand baggage and toiletries were emptied then electronically sniffed and when the aftershave bottle was identified there was a theatrical show of putting it into a plastic bag accompanied by a stretching and slapping sound as rubber gloves were donned in preparation for an imagined uncomfortable search that didn’t happen. I’m reminding you of all this because the Pilgrim gave me very short shrift regarding the level of care necessary for me to prepare for this process.

This time I’ve emptied my toiletries bag of all things liquid and put toothpaste in my hold luggage along with suncream and anything else with a tendency flow. I’ve followed instructions and put my belt and fleece together with my wallet, phone, usb stick and spare change into one tray then put my laptop into a separate tray that also becomes the receptacle for my boots when a security lady spots their potential for wanton destruction. I’m standing next to the scanner when another security person asks me if my pockets are empty, I nod an ascent then remember I have a pen in my shirt pocket so I quickly return to my tray and drop it in. I’m now ‘clean’ and make another attempt at getting though the scanner. I’m told to pause as the lady in front has set it off. When she clears I get an almost imperceptible nod from the man in charge and I move forward. The alarm goes off and the lights flash and I realise that I’m still wearing my watch. Bollocks, shit and lots of other words form. I take my watch off and make another tour of the scanner. It goes off again and I’m wondering what the surgeon used when she repaired my aorta last year, I thought it was latex but now I’m not sure. So… I’m getting my excuse together as the security man poses with a hand held device that’s going to be levelled at various parts of my body.

I have no idea what this device is but it’s quite happy with most of my body as it searches areas that would normally be accessible only by me and very close friends. He’s waving it around my chest now and it suddenly goes ballistic; it’s found something in my shirt pocket! Double shit, quadruple bollocks and now my mind is so full of rude words it’s like a Tourette’s factory on steroids as I remember I’d bought a tiny tube of aciclovir (generic equivalent of Zovyrax) for a potential cold sore on my lip and this little beastie has found it.

In fairness to the security man, he’s fairly laid back about it and hands it to a colleague who promptly renders it safe by encasing it into a small plastic bag. Now that it has been neutralized the airport can breath a collective sigh of relief as I’m allowed to proceed.

I’m expecting a degree of ribbing from the Pilgrim as I approach the scanning machine that has singled her out as a potential threat. She’s looking a little uncomfortable as I approach and I see that her bag is on the alternative conveyer belt meaning it is suspicious and by implication so is she.

It turns out that, like me, she’s forgotten a small lipstick and the equipment here has found it. It’s all very impressive even if it’s also frustrating. There’s no mention of my faux pas this time!

Contra to the image that Michael O’Leary tries to project, Ryanair and their staff are charm personified and their carry on allowance is generous whilst the hold baggage limit of 15kg is a little tight. Before we know it we’re in the ‘plane and whilst setting off late we still arrive at Ibiza on time to the fanfare of celebration and the announcement that 95% of Ryanair flights arrive on time; this is followed by a rag bag of applause rippling around the aircraft like a deranged seal has been released and it’s expressing its delight at the freedom.

In Ibiza the Passport Control is well organized well staffed (unlike the UK offering) and we’re through in a matter of minutes.

Enjoy Travel are on top of their game and have us on the bus fairly rapidly although there’s a little hiccup when they realise they haven’t registered us in. This is resolved quickly and before we know it we’re at the hotel where there are more queues due to the island implementing a new tax that is payable by each of the hotel guests.

We decide against queuing and jettison our luggage to make a short trip to a bar on the beach. It’s in a small bay so the view is a delight and when it’s combined with Serrano ham and exquisite bread that’s been slightly toasted with some balsamic vinegar and excellent olive oil; the whole experience is a great opener and sets the mood for the festival well.

An hour later and we make our way back to the hotel where the queues have disbursed and we’re registered by a wonderfully helpful member of the hotel staff and welcomed by the Enjoy Travel reps who are now more like close friends.

The afternoon is taken up with mundane unpacking and a short snooze on my part while the Pilgrim grabs a few zeds on a sun lounger followed by an impressive 5km run.

The festival doesn’t start until tomorrow but that’s never stopped the impromptus sessions that crop up like mushrooms responding to the dark and tonight is no exception.

As we enter the huge bar area, there are groups of people re-acquainting themselves with old friends and others meeting for the first time. This is my third festival and I can vouch for its intimacy and friendliness from organizers to artists and most of all, us, the audience. (although that label doesn’t feel adequate)

Flossie Malavialle, Rosie Clegg, Mike Harding and Mick Doonen along with many others are taking turns singing and playing various songs from traditional folk, war time standards, Dylan to Beetles and Everly Brothers, it’s sublime.

More beer is consumed and we meet some lovely people Simon (bodhron player) and his wife Sue and Donal and his lovely wife from Dublin. Time flies when Stu Luckly gets up to deliver a couple of traditional Geordie songs to celebrate Newcastle United’s promotion to the Premiership. As a Boro supporter I’ll say no more but the songs are sung by all with gusto.

It’s been a long day and the Pilgrim and I start to make our way to our room when we see Flossie again, this time she’s teamed up with two parts of Shite Shirts (yes you read that right and normally they wear shirts that are living testament to their name), they’re normally a trio and they’re singing more Everly Brothers, Elvis and Beatles songs along with some Country standards. They’re currently delivering a special request for the Pilgrim; it’s a Johnny Cash number. It looks like it might be a long night so I get another beer!

I don’t remember going to sleep but I’m guessing I must have because I’ve woken up and completed this.

Thanks Costa del Folk and all you lovely people that make it happen. That was a great day and the brilliant thing is this, the festival doesn’t officially start until 1400 today!

Feel free to share…G..x

Costa del Folk – Ibiza So, we're off to Ibiza or more accurately, we're going to the Costa del Folk which is a music event like no other and, on this occasion includes a little bit of excitement with the Manchester Airport Security Services when both ‘yours truly’ and the Pilgrim are exposed as ‘mules’.

#Costa del Folk #Ibiza #Music #Photographs #Photos

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