#but many of them still thought they were 'British' that didn't change until later

[firebirdsdaughter]

As the daughter of a history major…

… Where the hell are so many americans on tumblr going to school???

I just saw a post about how ‘it’s taught in america that the pilgrims were Good and fleeing religious intolerance but they were actually Bad’ which first off, you cannot make those distinctions bc freaking everyone was up to kill anyone who didn’t agree in those days, but also… People claiming to be american claiming that they were definitely taught exactly that??

Maybe… If you never took a history class past elementary school, I guess. Or maybe you were in Florida (oh, gods, get my mother started on people killing each other in Florida).

Bc, resident American here, albeit one in Massachusetts, and… No. We’re not taught that. You get a romanticised version in early grades maybe, but the higher you go, you get taught that the most Puritans had different religious beliefs than the standard in England, so they took the opportunity to ship off to the colonies. There’s no victimisation, it’s just straight facts. And that usually, that was the category of people shipped off to the colonies—criminals, religious differences, poor people… Like no one in their right mind wanted to go off into the ‘wilderness.’ They did it bc they hated being where they were, and England was all too happy to get rid of them. Hell, they were also completely unprepared and many of them died on the way over. Like that shot went super bad for so many reasons.

I’m not going to claim I remember every detail I was taught, and I had a bit of a deeper knowledge bc my mother is, again, a history major w/ an interest in American history bc it is whacky), and I do remember the ‘founding’ being a little simplified, but I also distinctly remember going into higher grades and having teachers outright explain ‘what you were told as kids was a very simplified version, let’s talk about it in more detail.’ We weren’t taught that there were ‘good’ or ‘bad’ guys, we were taught that these people had a difference in belief and that for that reason, they ended up shipped off to the colonies. We talked about the conflicts, the damage, the ugly bits.

I think people claiming to have been taught a sanitised version either didn’t take many history classes, didn’t pay attention, or don’t remember much of what they were taught (which no judgement here, I barely remember). Or maybe they’re just trying to sound Cool on the internet? I can’t know. But I remain baffled by certain myths about the us that alleged Americans come out of the woodwork to claim are true when… Your experiences are not universal???

Like I’m happy to criticise the education system, bc excuse me while I cry about not being able to hold a conversation in Spanish, but like. Unless you were in a very particular environment (I went to public school, btw)… No, you weren’t taught that shit. There’s parts missing, sure, but they did not, at least not beyond elementary, try to claim the ‘Pilgrims’ were blameless. I remember being taught that life was harsh and short, and people bitter and stubborn. I don’t doubt that the words ‘fleeing religious intolerance’ might’ve been used, bc technically, yes, they were. But I am also intolerant of trolls, and mosquitos. That’s a statement, it has no bearing on what kind of people either group was.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?" 

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?" 

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

[multifamdomfan]

(Lafayette or John) x Reader

He was going on a suicidal mission and the guilt was wracking inside him. He had been distancing themselves from you, working more, mailing letters failing and receiving them. He wouldn’t tell you what was happening, he felt both ashamed yet frightful to see your reaction.

He didn’t want to hurt you; yet the Revolution needed this plan to work. He was doing this for you two, for your small growing family.

He wouldn’t know the countless of letters you had sent to General Washington begging the General to send him home until months later when he returned to camp.

What would happen when he saw you again? he thought, after reading all the letters of destress you had mailed. He felt even worse leaving you now, he had to make sure he got home as soon as possible

(Though you can do this with any of the soldiers in Hamilton)

(This is also during the American Revolution)

Why Didn't You Tell Me?

John Laurens x reader

a/n: I hope you like it and so so so so so so sorry if you don't.

Warning: angst

John loved you, there was no doubt about that. He loved you with all his heart but why didn't he tell you what the plan was? You knew from the start that he was a revolutionary, that's what made you fall for him in the first place. That he wanted to change the world and wanted equal rights for all. It was no surprise when he told you that he was joining the war.

You were supportive of course, if John felt like he needed to join then he should do it. That doesn't mean that you weren't worried though. Worried would be an understatement, you were terrified for him. Who knew if John would make it out alive? You made him promise to write to you every day but he quickly assured you that he had no plan to do anything different.

At first he wrote consistently telling you in great detail what was going on to ease your nerves which did help. But John slowly started writing less and less and even that he was very vivid. Eventually he stopped writing at all which made you fear the worst. But you couldn't let yourself dwell on the thought of making every possible excuse except for the obvious.

That your beloved was dead. You refused to accept that so you wrote to General Washington so many letters that you lost count and your hands were covered in blisters begging for him to send John home but he declined every single one. John was needed to fight the war, that did not calm you down. Not one but, but it did give you the best news.

It confirmed that the love of your life was alive. Then you became angry, if he was alive and hurt why wasn't he messaging you? Did he forget or didn't want to? Sure he was busy but could he at least write one letter at least saying that he was alive?

Then you tried to find a reason for this. Maybe he was undercover and the letter would blow his cover? But wouldn't he be told in advance? He would have time to write you a letter?

Until you were given a reason you kept writing and writing letters. Until a letter from General Washington would send a letter that would absolutely destroy you, it was a letter written by your love.

Dear Mrs. Laurens,

I'm sorry to inform you of this but John Laurens has died tonight. He was a spy for the British Government gathering information but got caught and was killed. He didn't tell you sooner because he didn't want to cause you any distress but know that with the time I knew Laurens loved you more than anything and if there is anything I can do for you please let know.

Sincerely,

General Washington

You collapsed on your knees sobbing. You couldn't believe it, he was gone. John was your world, best friend, the love of your life, your everything.

At the funeral you ran into the Hamiltons, you and Alexander shared a hug both shedding tears. Eliza gave her condolences. You were silent the whole time trying to keep yourself together. You were still at the graveyard when everyone left and yelled "How could you do this?! How could you not tell me?! Why did you not tell me?!" Before you broke down crying, you could never be truly angry at him you were just mad that it was. Leaving you alone and getting was never coming back.

[ryan-rts]

Hello there! Long time no see?

Before I talk about this model I do have to apologise for not uploading since my last post, life and mental health took over a lot and I just didn't have time nor motivation to post anything. However I'm going to try and make this a more constant thing rather than just whenever and whatever. I still need to plan out stuff, however I'll update you all when the time is right.

Anyway, today's model is of a locomotive I've taken some interest in, this is a 9F.

British Railways 9F class No.92250 was built at Crewe Works in 1958 and became the last steam locomotive to be fully constructed at Crewe. It was intended to be the last 9F built, and on top of that the last steam locomotive built by BR, and on technicality, if we're going off locomotive numbers, it is. However, 9F No.92220 'Evening Star' became the last 9F built and overall the Last Steam Locomotive built in 1960, by Swindon.

Despite the factor Swindon officially built the last 9F, I've never had a soft spot for Evening Star. However, after coming into ownership of a couple 9Fs, I was wondering what to do with them. The first one I got was a Single Chimney 9F which, as I have my own Railway Series Headcanon, will become some form of my Murdoch, and the second one, which was this one, was a Double Chimney Variant, but the loco only, with the tender it has coming from a Standard 5. The latter 9F was going to be a project by my friend Amethyst, known on Twitter as Merry Hampton Productions or @/B661Sutton (link at the end of post), to turn into a Double Chimney member of the class based around Tyseley.

Now, I had 251 9Fs I could have chose to turn this one into, however, as I work in Crewe, am quite local and also have taken interest into a majority of locomotives built there, I thought that 92250 would be the best fitting.

The first thing this model required was a new chimney. The later batches of 9Fs were all built with the Double chimney and blast pipe arrangement, however, 92250 was a little bit different.

In the 50s, Dr. Adolph Giesl-Gieslingen (what a name) designed and produced a type of chimney and blast pipe arrangement that would use steam more effectively which would help reduce the amount of coal an engine would intake. It was fitted to many engines in service and Preservation, a famous example being No.4 'Edward Thomas' on the Talyllyn Railway, and his Sudrian Counterpart Peter Sam.

92250 was built in 1958 and a year later in 1959 was fitted with an oblong Giesl Ejector. This chimney offered the same level of draught for a reduced level of back-pressure or created an increase in draught with no performance loss elsewhere. There was no change in the usage of coal either, so overall the chinmey made little difference to the 9Fs already stirling performance. 92250 retained this chinmey until withdrawal in 1965 and was Scrapped at Cashmores in Newport.

The chimney I used on my model of 92250 was a white metal one from RT Models. The chimney is designed to replace the ones on the Hornby Austerities and is more fit for industrial locomotives, so on the 9F it's a little bit short, however with little reference to how long it is, I removed the old one, cut down this one, and fitted it. It still looked the part however from some angles compared to pictures you can tell its a little too short.

After this the model was painted Black. For my black paint I use Revel Aqua colour. Their matt and gloss blacks have some good coverage, and as they are the colours I use most, I can go to my local Hobbycraft and pick them up easily.

After painting, I had to scrape most of the Factory Weathering off the Rods, add the numbers and Crests, which are all transfers from Fox Transfers (link to the numbers and crests bellow) and a nice coat of Humbrol Matt Varnish. I went for Matt as it was to hand and also as it would dull back the very glossy effect of the paint.

So that's all it was for 92250, a rather quick and simple project, which anyone could do as a good starter project.

Here is a link to Amethyst's twitter, where you can go and see her lovely modelling projects:

https://twitter.com/B661Sutton?t=tl58JqYScDFAOGbV-quvCw&s=09

And here is a link to the Transfers I used from Fox Transfers:

https://www.fox-transfers.co.uk/steam-cabside-numbering-3-sizes-58502

https://www.fox-transfers.co.uk/early-lion-and-wheel-totem-58306

Picture credit from below are to their respective owners on Flickr

[hexenmond]

gushing about Friday's Engin concert

So I was on the fence about going to this concert for weeks, but long story short, I'm SO GLAD I WENT! 😍

Engin are a German-Turkish band hailing from Mannheim, which isn't very far from where I live, and on Friday they were playing in Reutlingen, which REALLY isn't far. And they were freakin' fantastic! This video snippet is the solo part of "Stillgelegte Tränen" (roughly translatable as "discontinued tears"), and I hope it shows at least a little just what a wonderful live act they are.

So yeah, I came home from that experience with the clear intention to really go out to concerts more (and maybe the theatre) from now on. I hadn't been in ages, and that's a mistake! It was so lovely to spend some two hours dancing and swaying, watching and listening to three fabulous musicians really rock it, and also I was super proud whenever I caught a Turkish word I understood.

Something that struck me at the beginning when the drums started playing – I don't think I've ever heard a drumset sound so, hm, musical. I mean drums usually file as percussion, and their sound to me is closer in range to "noise" than to "melody". But the sound of these drums sure had a sort of full-bodied, richly tonal quality that I found amazing.

In contrast, the bass started out more hard and metallic (the bassist was playing with a pick most of the time) – however, both sounds changed during the concert and during later songs the bass was much more mellow (also played without a pick for a bit). I'm not sure how much of that was influenced by the sound technician, but I believe it entirely possible that these three fabulous musicians just have that range of tone.

Oh and the lyrics! Much of Engin's original songs are in German, but they did play a lot of Turkish songs as well, and I don't know how many of those were traditional or covers and how many were their own. I did love all of them and the singer gave a little context for many of the songs which was lovely, and like I said, I was so proud of myself whenever I understood a word. And I should add that I didn't understand half of the lyrics in German either! (too fast, too much music going on, lyrics too out of context to catch it all) Their song lyrics generally lean towards poetry, which I personally love but isn't always easy to understand when you hear it for the first time.

There was one song that was about growing up in between between languages, between cultures, between homes, something I can relate to a bit because of my half English heritage (I had a few teenage years where I was totally out of sorts and wishing I'd grown up on the British isles instead of Germany). It's not entirely the same of course. My ear caught four words – "blond genug für Sympathie" ("blond enough for sympathy"), and I thought, oh wow. White passing privilege and on the flip side, never being fully at home and welcome anywhere, in four simple words.

Anyway! You know, I woke up on Saturday morning at around half past four, my mind racing with the whole experience and I lay awake thinking about what I was going to write until about six, when I fell asleep again 😄 and now it's Sunday evening and my brain has shut up a little. But I'm still writing this because a) I want the world to know about this wonderful band, and b) I want to get back into the practice of writing regularly. I have this five part, long form fanfiction that I WILL finish!

So here's some links for all of you who are interested in super danceable tunes, multicultural music and lyrics, and/or absolutely rocking sound:

Engin's website (in German only, sorry, but you can just click on the videos)

my absolute favourite song in German: Echt ("genuine")

my absolute favourite song in Turkish: Gurbet ("foreign place", very melancholic)

[landinoandco]

|Shutter speed|

Chapter one : A staring contest with an attractive stranger

{Lando Norris x Reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: None :)

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: hey guys, welcome to Shutter Speed!! A love triangle between LN DR and reader (in this story reader is called Georgie.) This is my first f1 fanfiction so any feedback/suggestions are very welcome or if you just want to add comments, reactions - anything goes!! Thank you for reading and enjoy :)

Chapter one: A staring contest with an attractive stranger ...

It was raining in London. Not that that was out of the ordinary - even in the beginning days of July. Today the weather had decided to imitate that of mid-March, the rain crashing down like the heavens had opened up above and the wind cheekily chasing tourists and commuters indoors then proceeding to race eagerly through the streets, nipping at any ankles of those who were lagging behind the rest.

Lando Norris was out with his trainer when the rain started, enjoying the freedom of a 2 week break before the highly anticipated British Grand Prix. They rushed down the alleyway they had found themselves on; until they came across a little coffee shop tucked away in the corner - 'The Little London Stop.' Jon nodded to confirm to Lando that this would be just fine - as he opened the door, a small bell rang just above his head and instantly they were hit by a comforting warmth and the smell of freshly made coffee.

He quickly slid onto one of the benches, facing out onto the shop. It was typically London, designed with someone's Instagram feed in mind, plants hung precariously from the rafters along with many singular light bulbs that casted at atmospheric glow around the room.

Opposite him, on the other side of the room sat the only other person in the shop, she sat with her back to them. Her messy mousy brown hair tumbled in waves down her back, her gaze on the rain rushing down the alleyway - her chin resting on the heel of her hand.

Georgie had been sitting in that exact spot for longer than she would care to admit. Escaping the pestering grasp of her best friend and roommate Maisie; they were both photographers - partners in an online business they set up when they first left college as they prepared to take on the world. Pre-covid it had flourished and the pair had been travelling up and down the country, from events like weddings to festivals. Post-covid however - this was where their problems had started and why Georgie was currently hiding in a coffee shop. Work had become as dry as her love life, events had been cancelled for another year and wedding guest numbers had been limited. For weeks they had been sending their portfolios to any event organiser they could find and for weeks they kept being turned away.

She tore her eyes from the flooding streets and back to her open laptop - she was completely stuck, where to even start? Georgie nibbled on the on her bottom lip and sighed before rubbing her hands over her face - she was really looking for a miracle to happen.

Lando was completely intrigued by the girl. It wasn't until Jon snapped his fingers in front of Lando's face that he realised he had been staring.

"Right, sorry." Lando mumbled, a red flush creeping up his neck and he moved his gaze to the wooden table, wringing his fingers together. "What were you saying?"

Jon chuckled at his young boy antics and shook his head, "I wasn't, you were staring and it was weird. I picked you up this green smoothie - lots of vitamins and-" But Lando had switched off again, he couldn't help himself as his eyes locked back onto where they had been before. It was like something was drawing him to her - hell, he didn't even know what she looked like.

"Are you going to go and speak to her?" Jon's voice broke his trance yet again.

"Wha-what?" Lando looked up at his trainer, his innocent eyes widening at the thought. "I-I-"

Jon scoffed and rolled his eyes, "You are such a teenager."

"I'm not a teenager." Lando hit back, "I'm 21. I can drink in the US now, you know."

"Then start acting like it." Jon scolded but the corners of his mouth quirked up, he had known Lando for years and he had not changed once. A hopeless romantic at heart but acted like a deer caught in the headlights as soon as anyone of the opposite gender even glanced his way. Any girl would be lucky to have him but unfortunately for Lando he always found himself drawn to the type that would take his heart whole and would leave, shattering it into millions of pieces for Jon to find and piece back together again. It was through no fault of the girls in question, they would make their intentions very clear but Lando - being who he was - would always jump head first without looking ahead or the consequences of his actions.

On the plus side, Lando came back stronger each time but it left him with an even stronger longing for that care and affection that everyone around him seemed to have.

His heart raced as he looked over at Jon, a determined look was set on his face. "Fine. I'll do it." He stood up, legs wobbling slightly as the adrenaline flooded through his veins - he had cleared the table when reality decided to walk through the door. He turned on his heels and sat back down. "Nope. Maybe another day." His voice wavered slightly.

Jon looked at him with sympathy and slight second hand embarrassment - not that Lando needed to know that.

Georgie looked over her shoulder at the commotion happening behind her - there were two young men sitting across the room from her. One was clearly older than the other and was looking at him in utter bemusement - she followed his gaze...

Georgie inhaled sharply, she was met by a pair of crystal blue eyes - of which lit up when he realised that she had looked over. Georgie simply didn't know what to do with herself as she seemed to be stuck in a staring contest with an incredibly attractive stranger. She managed to tear her eyes away to look at him properly; a mop of dark brown curls sat dripping onto the table (still wet from the torrential downpour), an olive complexion and an innocent sparkle in his crystal blue eyes. She offered him a shy smile, a rose tinge coating her cheeks. He gave her a lopsided grin in response.

There was an overwhelming feeling that drew Georgie to this stranger, it wasnt anything she had experienced before - not even when she had been with him.

A cold chilling suddenly rushed down her spine, almost like she had been standing in the rain falling outside. A pang of guilt filled her stomach, she dropped her gaze and bit her lip. How could she ever think of him like that, compare him to a stranger she didnt even know the name of.

A ring broke her train of thought, her phone lit up with Maisie's name. She inhaled slowly to ground her feelings before answering, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Hey Maise -"

"I've done it." She heard Maisie shout down the phone, followed by a relieved laugh.

"Done what, sorry." Georgie prompted, rubbing her eyes. She could feel the boys' eyes on her, resisting the urge to turn around; she closed the lid of her laptop and placed it in her bag.

"I've only gone and gotten us an event to go to this weekend." Maisie replied as casually as she could muster. Georgie paused. A large grin that would challenge the Cheshire cats'.

"Where and how?" Georgie felt a weight lift from her shoulders, it didn't matter what Maisie had signed them up for, it was a start. A fresh start.

"Look, I have a call with them any minute so I'll have to explain when you get back. It's at the Goodwood festival of speed." Maisie paused.

"Goodwood Festival of speed." Georgie echoed - she could hear ringing in the background.

"Got to go, final things to sort out. I'll see you later." With that she hung up, leaving a delighted Georgie frozen in place, until she found her senses and packed up as fast as she could. All thoughts of the boy across the room - gone.

He sat, puzzled, as he watched her rush out the door and into the rain - calling out a muffled 'thank you' as the door swung shut behind her. His brows drew together as he looked into his lap, before saying quietly to Jon: "It was the Goodwood Festival of Speed she just said, didn't she?"

"Yes." Jon answered shortly, looking down at him in fascination.

"Isn't that where I am this weekend?" Lando looked up, hope swelled in his chest.

"Yes, it is."

Lando looked longingly out of the window, beaming. He knew it was silly to get so hopeful - there were going to be thousands upon thousands swarming around Goodwood. He stood up and turned to Jon - "Lets go."

"But you haven't drank your smoothie -"

Lando was already at the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Jon grabbed the smoothie and tittered, following after him.

You only live once, Lando thought. As it turns out he would get another chance this Saturday and this time he wasn't blowing it.

Chapter two: A new beginning

[terubakudan]

This may be an old article from 3 years ago, but these cultural aspects/observations still apply even today. And though this is strictly a Chinese perspective, a lot of these everyday life bits are observed in Overseas Chinese communities in countries such as The Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. as well as countries heavily influenced by Chinese culture like Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.

I've always liked learning about other cultures and making comparisons between how things are done East vs West. Which probably stems from growing up with two cultures and Mom raising me on American movies xD

So the irony is if you asked me how many Chinese, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong actors I know, chances are I know as much as you do xD Like Jackie Chan, Andy Lau, and that's about it. But if you asked me about Western (specifically American and British) actors, then I have a useless brain dump of movie trivia and who was with who in what movie xD

Hmmm, both Taiwan and the Philippines are two distinct cultures but both look up to a certain country and are fascinated by that. In Taiwan's case, Japan and the US for the Philippines. In both cases, this is due to being under the rule of those countries in their history. Taiwan being under Japan for 50 years, and the Philippines being under Spain for 300+ years, followed by periods of American and Japanese rule. To put it simply though:

Taiwan is "mini-Japan with a very Chinese culture".

The Philippines is "former colony of Spain with lots of American influences".

But unlike the author, I've never set foot in any Western country, so my understandings are strictly what I've observed in media, which while it can be accurate, doesn't compare to actually experiencing the culture.

Some further elaboration on most points:

#1 We quite literally use chopsticks for everything. We use it to pick rice, viands, vegetables, fruit, smaller desserts, almost all the food you can think of.

But where do you put your chopsticks when you're not using them? Just put them on top of your bowl or flat on your plate. But do not ever stick them vertically. It's taboo, since it looks like incense sticks, which we use to pray for those who have passed, like our ancestors or during funerary services.

#3 The majority of Asia is obsessed with fair/white skin. In my time at the Philippines, I grew up watching all these Dove Whitening commercials and my classmates often commented on how fair my skin was, how they envied it etc. In Taiwan, girls often say they don't want to 變黑 (biàn hēi) 'become dark'. Japan and Korea too are not innocent of this either (if their beauty/skin products weren't a dead giveaway).

People here at Taiwan often mistake me for being from Hong Kong or Japan (as long as I don't speak Mandarin with my heavy accent xD). A Taiwanese classmate of mine joked that she often gets mistaken for being from Southeast Asia due to having a darker complexion. And while I laughed it off with her at that time, looking back, I now realize she was lowkey being racist. xD

And believe me Filipinas have mentioned literally being told 'your skin is so dark' here in Taiwan, or being given backhanded compliments like 'you're pretty despite having dark skin' and...*facepalms*

My point is, beauty is not exclusive to skin color. People who still think that are assholes.

#5 Not to say we don't have salt and pepper, but yes soy sauce and vinegar are the classic condiments you see on the table, be it at home or at a restaurant.

And if I may add, Taiwanese love their pepper. xD If you ever get to eat at a night market or a smaller "Mom n' Pop-style" restaurant here, some dishes/soups tend to add quite an excessive amount of pepper. Not like anthills, but quite liberally and way more than average. Enough that you see traces of pepper at the bottom of the food paper bag or swirling in your soup. xD

#6 I know this all too well from personal experience. In my years of studying at Taiwan, I always had roommates. 3 in my first school (I graduated high school in the Philippines pre K-12 so I had to make up 2 years of Senior High), followed by 2 in college, with the exception of 1 in freshman year.

My college did offer single person dorms but at around 9000 NTD ($324) per month compared to around 6000 NTD ($216) per semester. Because I wanted to save, the choice was obvious for me xD. But ah, this doesn't mean I don't value personal space, in fact I love having the room to myself, and since both my roomies would go home to their families every weekend, weekends were bliss for me xD

And you don't have to be friends with your roommates (that's an added bonus however), you just have to get along with them. I was quite lucky to have really great roommates all throughout my schooling years.

#9 In the Philippines, we do. Owing mostly to American influences and maybe being predominantly Catholic? xD

#10 *sigh* Chinese parents and parents from similar Asian cultures tend to put too much emphasis on grades, so much that kids could get sent to cram school as early as elementary. This is because what school you get into could literally affect your future job opportunities, and while that's not exclusive to any particular country/culture, I feel it's especially pronounced here in Asia. I'm really lucky my own parents weren't that strict about it. However, if your parents don't point the mistakes out to you, chances are you'll do it yourself, if you're an Asian kid like me anyway. xD It just becomes a habit.

#11 My family is an exception to this. xD We do say 'I love you' directly, but complete with the 'ah eat well ok?', 'don't scrimp on food', 'sleep well' and similar indirect words/actions of affection. We were doing 'Conceal, Don't Feel' before it became popular. xD

#13 I'm kind of confused about this but this has sort have changed over the years in which eye-contact is now more encouraged. But don't stare, especially at elders and authority figures. Sometimes it's just shyness though. xD And I've observed this with my own Taiwanese friend, especially when I'm complaining or ranting to her about something. xD I'm a person who likes to express my opinions strongly, which tends to scare/alienate some of the locals here, as doing so is kind of frowned upon. Thankfully, she does listen and offers her take on things.

#14 Ah this. xD In the Philippines, this is a common greeting known as beso-beso, and I freaked out too when an auntie did that to me. xD Needless to say, Mom lectured me later on what that was. ^^"

#16 Along with #3 another crazy beauty standard. In my view, people always look better with a little meat on them and when they're not horribly thin. Asia still has a loonng way to go with accepting different types of bodies if you ask me. This combined with modern beauty standards has made the pressure for women especially to 'look beautiful' higher than ever.

I know many people love them but please, starving yourself or glorifying eating disorders is never OK just to get this kind of 'ideal' body. I'm not part of the Kpop fandom, but even I think when idols get bullied just for gaining the least bit of weight among other insensitive comments, that's really going too far.

#17 'If you want to make friends, go eat.' <- I couldn't agree more. In the Philippines we have a greeting: 'Kumain ka na ba?' (Have you eaten?) . Similarly in Taiwan, we have 吃飯了沒? (chī fàn le méi), both of these can mean that in the literal sense but are often used as greetings instead. By then which invitation to having lunch/dinner together may or may not follow. Food really is a way for us to socialize and to catch up with what's going on in each other's lives. Not to say we don't have regular outings like going out to the mall, going shopping, etc. but eating together is a huge part of our culture, be it with family or friends.

And while I'm at it, some memes that are way too accurate good to pass up xD

Parents, uncles, aunties alike will fight over the bill xD

Alternatively:

You just space out until your name is called xD

My parents are guilty of the last one. Logic how? xD

#18 True. xD I like giving compliments out to people but I have a hard time accepting them myself, though I've learnt how to accept them much more now than before. We're kind of raised to constantly downplay ourselves so we often say things like 'ah no no' or 'I'm really not that good'. The downside of this of course is that it can come off as somewhat fake. xD

Again from personal experience, that same classmate who made the lowkey racist remark, she was good, she was on the debate team, was a honor student, knew how to mingle with people, but she downplayed herself way too much, while praising me but I honestly thought that she never really meant it from how she treated me. She wanted to keep me around her yet make backhanded compliments at me and she didn't want me socializing with my other classmate who is now my friend. *sigh* It was only after discussing this with one of my roomies did I realize how this 'excessive downplaying' might come off to people like me who more or less grew up with a more 'Westernized' mindset. I'm not saying brag about your achievements but don't be overly humble about them either, which can also be a turn off.

#20 We do tend to be a lot more realistic on how we view things, neither entirely optimistic nor pessimistic. We try to think of things practically and often analyze things on pure logic. A downside of this however, is that Chinese people can be overly practical. Taiwanese for instance don't like to 'find inconveniences' and generally keep to themselves, meaning, they won't help you in your hour of need even when they do have the capabilities. Sounds really harsh I know, but in my 6 years of living in Taiwan, while this doesn't apply to all the people, a lot of them really do only find/talk to you when they need something.

So for some people saying Taiwanese are 'friendly', that's BS xD If you ask me, Filipinos are infinitely more friendly, and again while not all, generally make more of an effort to help you when you need it. I really felt more of a real sense of community during my years growing up in the Philippines compared to Taiwan.

#21 Children do tend to stay with their parents well into college and adulthood, since Chinese families are indeed very family-oriented, in a lot of cases, grandparents often live under the same roof as us as well! And it really does save a lot of money. I see there's a real stigma in the US when it comes to "living with your parents", but that's starting to change especially because of Covid and having more and more people move back in with their parents.

Housing unfortunately is pretty much hella expensive no matter where you go, and Taiwan is no exception. Steep housing prices and the very high cost of raising a child (schooling + buxiban fees, etc.) contribute to a very low birth rate and thus an aging population like Japan. It's not uncommon to see both parents working in Taiwan.

#23 I'm an overthinker myself, but I totally agree with the author that the best is to strike a good balance between these two. Which I guess is why I love drawing or any other related creative attempts, it helps me be more spontaneous or well, creative! I like to remain intellectually or artistically inspired.

#24 Is French high school really like that? xD My friend did watch SKAM France and more or less got a culture shock from what was depicted on the show. I can confirm however that most high schools both in the Philippines and Taiwan require students to wear a uniform, only in college is everybody free to wear casual/civilian clothes.

#26 Ah this is part of our Asian gift-giving etiquette xD We always open gifts later after the event/meeting and in private. Never open them in front of the person who gave it to you or in front of others. This is to prevent any 'shame/embarrassment' that may result both to yourself and to the gift giver. I know this may come off as something weird since some people may want a more honest response or immediate feedback when it comes to gift-giving, but that's just how it is in our culture. You're always free to ask us though (in private) if we liked the gift or not ^^"

#28 I want to say the same goes to drinking, partying, and drugs however xD Those are things which are still frowned upon in our culture. And to be honest, whenever I see those in movies, it does kind of turn me off xD It doesn't mean that we're "uncool" or "boring", we just think that there are much better or healthier ways of "having fun".

#31 Is this true in France?! Man I would kind of prefer that instead of people being on their phones all the time xD This kind of goes with #20 in that Chinese are overly practical or logical, and don't read fiction as much as nonfiction. My Taiwanese friend is an exception though, she's a bibliophile who loves the feel of paper books compared to e-books, and it's a trait of her that I like a lot. Both the Philippines and Taiwan however have a huge fanbase when it comes to manga and anime though.

I'm all for reading outside of "designated reading" at schools especially. Reading fiction improves your vocabulary too, and can be quite fun! It helps you imagine and really invest in a world/story, and if you ask me something that I feel Westerners are better at, they're more in touch with their emotions and creativity, and are thus much more able to write compelling or original stories. Believe me, I've seen a fair amount of Chinese movies that rip off Western movie plotlines xD

#33 Nothing much to add on here..except that since I'm a "weird" person, Mom often jokes that she got the wrong baby from the hospital. xD

#35 True. While I agree with the care and concern that your fellow community can give you, the downside of this is we tend to only hang out with our own people, e.g Chinese with Chinese, Taiwanese with Taiwanese, etc. I've seen too that it's especially hard to make friends in Japan and Korea as a foreigner. Not only is there the language barrier, but the differences in culture too. In a way, Asians can be pretty close-minded on getting to know other cultures or actually making friends with people from other countries. I know this all too well being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, being neither "Filipino" enough nor "Taiwanese" enough. xD It's more of people here being too used to what they're comfortable with.

#36 Oh this is something I feel that Chinese students and other students from similar cultures should really improve on. xD How will people respect you if you don't speak your mind?

I felt bad especially for my Spanish teacher in college, granted it was an introductory course (Spanish I and II) but the amount of times that our teacher had to prompt a student to recite/speak even with clear hints already made her (and me too) extremely frustrated. The thing is, these are college students, I personally feel they don't have any reason to be so shy of speaking and technically by not doing so they're slowing the pace of the class too much and a lot of time is wasted.

Unfortunately you can't always be very vocal with your thoughts and opinions in most Asian cultures. I would say strive for that, but at the same time, play your cards well, especially if you're in a workplace setting.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading and here's a cookie! 🍪 I'm not perfect and there's bound to be something I missed so please let me know if you spotted anything wrong. Feedback/questions are very much welcome and please feel free to share about your country/culture's differences or similarities!

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog​ because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

_________

It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with.  That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box.  A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

[marlasomething]

Jonmartin Week 2022 Day 6: Crazy Notions

Hello there!

As said in previous one-shots of this week, I cannot see a "challenge" and let it go so...Jonmartin week 2022 here we are! The idea is "forcing myself" to write piece of under 1K in different universes, let's see how it goes...and today it didn't go (sorry, wish @jonmartinweek don't mind me not holding myself accountable).

This was written for the prompt of day 6: Lost & Found/Found Family and it is set in my general Time-Travel Fix-It fic, but can be read without context (and, if you DO WANT CONTEXT...here it is the whole AU-verse.

Also: I will try to end all one-shots with the line of the finale "One way or another. Together". Only half this time...sorry.

As usual, do please forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes,

Marla

Allons-y!

AO3 edition!

Whole week Masterlist!

There were many things Jon would have never thought could be included in the sentence “Jonathan Sims is…”

Eldritch (half) monster was absolutely one of them; but with a good argumentation, he believed he could have been convinced that was going to be his fate, sooner or later.

Father? That was one he had been certainly would never be after his name (and the proper verb in between, of course).

And yet, here he was.

Here they were.

Married man had also been one term he had refused to even consider a possibility. Even in the most honeymooned moments of his scarce prior relationships he had never seen the so-long-term relationship ever being an unlikely chance in his future.

He smiled to the pair at the other side of the window, as Ellie told something that was making Martin having to bit his lips not to laugh out-loud in the small café nearby the British Museum (though for lazier people it would already be way too far to be considered properly close to the famous edification) where he was to meet them after a not very pleasant evening trying to make a deal with Manuela, so she wouldn’t make the whole city go dark (streets included).

Just wait until next week and you can do that on the Royal Family vacation.

He had tried to sound conciliating, but both knew that, if she refused, the consequences for her people would be…rather unpleasant.

It wasn’t perfect for him either, though. As much as he couldn’t care less about whatever the future of the Royal Family held, he knew there would be innocent people just working for them in their retirement.

However, if he wanted to keep other factions from causing a major mayhem; sacrifices had to be made.

At least, these involved less people blown up that some of Gertrude’s had had.

Cruel; another word he would have never thought could be applied to him.

But not anymore for today; he thought, as he stared at his closest (though not only) family from the street right before entering the local.

Martin and him had definitively not been ready to take care of an infant when they had adopted Ellie, almost six years ago already, but…what else could have they done, when a baby not-so-accidentally marked by The Eye due to her biological parents’ doing had decided she liked them as her real parents?

And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t had more help than they could have ever dreamed of.

Part of an actual family. A small, broken family; but still good.

He opened the door, having to fight with the door for a minute (instead of healing before time, his patron could have allowed him a major strength than the one his tiny body was bound to have).

He saw his husband (fuck, he was; he really was his husband) muttering something to their little girl’s ear, she giggling afterwards.

He reminisced about a time in which Martin would have run to help him the moment he had started trying to force the door; even though he would have treated him afterwards as the most useless bothersome individual in the whole Creation.

He couldn’t be gladder of how things had changed since then.

He got to where his two spectators were sitting and took another chair, ruffling Ellie’s hair and giving a quick kiss to Martin, for the pure dread and horror of a woman behind him, who had just had her very own son come out to her and was doing her worst best to assimilate the news (after properly scolding the young man, of course).

The Archivist saw her and drank in all the little gesture had triggered in her (he could feed in more things beyond The Fear’s proper apparitions, he had learnt); with a coy smile only Martin noticed, giving him a half wink.

Being a monster sometimes had its perks.

As he sat, he complained about the door situation.

“Thanks for not helping, my love. I almost lost against a door.”

“Oh, come on! We both now that evil door was defeated before time, you are too bull-headed for it to go any other way. Also, perhaps previous-Jon would have lied defeated, but you are not like that anymore” he was right, he reckoned.

As much as he was still thin, he was now just constitutional thin, instead of someone-please-give-this-man-a-bloody-plate-of-beans thin, as he had been when they had first met (and worsen over time).

Taking care of yourself; what a concept.

“Were you really tinnier before, papa?”

“Ok, this is now bullying.”

“You don’t allow me to look into your past!”

In good sense; he thought, he didn’t want his daughter to see the things he had gone through…especially the scorned world he had helped creating…

He felt a hand over his.

Martin had learnt to recognise when he started spiralling.

“One day, when you are older” he said.

“I am technically older every day…” she pouted in a way that reminded him quite a lot…to, well, himself.

Nurture winning nature once again.

“You are a bad influence” Martin said, almost reading his thoughts. “So…the Manuela business…done?”

“Yeah, Melanie’s idea might have started as a joke, but, it has worked perfectly fine…”

“You’ll be telling her you had to make some changes, right?!” both men stared at Ellie, who was smirking as she shipped from her hot chocolate. “What? I’ve known Aunt Melanie my whole life! And that is already six years, you two really like each other and also really like to pretend you hate each other…grown-up stuff, I guess. Like when Sasha and Tim use the broomstick room at the Institute…” even Jon’s ears went notoriously red.

“No, not at all like that. Again, once you are old old I will tell you…better, your dad will” Martin gave him a squint look, but shrugged.

Yeah, it will be better for everyone if Martin did The Talk.

Good Lord, was he really planning of having to see himself in that situation?

Had this really all started with him complaining about the unprofessionalism of his predecessor?

“Gotta pee and the other thing!”

“Wash your hands well!” both men almost yelled as the not-so-tiny-already figure headed to the bathroom as if there was a price.

As they were left alone, they silently decided to pretend they hadn’t been together for quite a while (that, with the very fortunate events in their lives, should count as the triple of time), and just be on a very regular early date, soaking at each other eyes, exchanging small silly anecdotes and finally asking each other if they could get closer, almost holding each other.

The rest of world totally gone.

As Ellie came back, showing her hands to be perfectly humid to prove the point of her personal hygiene to be in complete check, Jon felt the smile in his face grow.

There was no other place he would rather be.

He stared as his phone, a text from Daisy shining on the screen, reminding him of the celebration Basira-should-not-know-nothing-about, directly answered with a sassy reply by Tim.

Found, that one maybe surprised him even more than father.

Once, he had been lost, far before the Institute.

Now, he was found and, as he began his conversation again with his partner and kid; he knew that, in any reality they existed, he would always eventually be found.

One way or another.

[lovethisletters]

The Bat & The Lantern || Batman x Reader

Hi, lovely! I had so much fun writing this (I'm not gonna lie, I was quite nervous at first, since I don't know that much about the whole green lantern universe, but guess it turned out...ok?) so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and to be honest, I would like to revisit this story again in the future!

Little disclaimer: The reader is a Human green lantern but similar to star-lord she lived the majority of her life in space, that's why she's so oblivious as to whom Batman is, also this takes place during Dick Grayson early years as robin (12-13).

Word count: 2233!!!

Summary: Reader is a new member of the Justice League...but Batman doesn't seem too happy about it.

Keys: Y/S/N: Your Superhero Name | Y/N: Your (real) Name.

Hal Jordan was your friend since you joined the green lanterns (which it was barely 3 or 4 years ago)

Basically...you were "new"

But that didn't stop your fellow green lanterns (?) From seeing all your potential.

Everyone is convinced that with the right training and perseverance, you will become one of the greatest green lanterns of all time.

So, it didn't take long before you proved yourself to be capable enough to join the big leagues.

More specifically, The Justice League.

Hal was the one to introduce you to his companions.

The Amazonian, the human looking alien, the speedster, the other Alien not so human looking, the half robot; everyone was so nice to you since they met you.

Everyone except...The grumpy bat.

When you first introduced yourself, he didn't even bother to be as welcoming as the others.

He just stood there, looking all big and serious that you almost thought it was a statue or the poor guy had catatonic lapses or was way too shy or socially awkward to approach you.

You felt bad, so you approached him instead.

—Hi! I'm Y/S/N...—You said enthusiastically before being abruptly interrupted.

—I know, I heard your introduction already—His voice so devoid of any kind of emotion that you may as well had been talking to a machine.

"Scanning complete, Batman"

A voice inside his cowl informed him, it sounded like an older man with a British accent.

—Thank you, I'll check it later.

That’s when it hit you…the reason why he was watching you so intensely and standing so incredibly still: He was scanning you.

Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

You stayed there, your face paralyzed with surprise and anger, without knowing very well what to answer; you didn't want to cause a scene on your first day, but this man was just so rude; That is not an appropriate way to receive a new member. yes, it is normal to have suspicions, but you would appreciate if he had the decency to let his suspicions be known when you weren't present.

—she just introduced herself and already on with the paranoic behavior, Bats? seriously? —Hal stepped in your defense.

—this is a routine procedure; I'm just being cautious.

—He was like that at the beginning with all of us too, don’t worry he’ll warm up to you in no time—Wonder woman whispered in your ear after watching your uncomfortable expression.

Ultimatedly you decided to listen to the amazonian and let that one slide, “is normal to be wary of new things anyways” you repeated yourself.

As the months passed you have grown quite frustrated. Between all the missions and meetings even though you felt your relationship with the rest of the team grow closer and they began to trust you and respect you; your relationship with the Batman stayed pretty much the same.

Yes, there was a bit of progress….a bit.

He was bit more talkative to you, a bit more “friendly”, a bit more trusting.

But it was always just a bit never actually fully a teammate to you, your relationship felt more like distant coworkers.

At the beginning it didn’t worry you too much, until your lack of communication started to mess with your performance in the missions, sometimes something completely bizarre and unexpected would happen and because both of you didn’t know each other very well, the mission would take the double amount of time to resolve since you couldn’t coordinate at all.

One time he almost ran you over with his batwing…

The whole thing was kinda funny looking back on it but at the time you were furious (rightfully so)

In his defense, he didn’t knew you were there…I mean…you basically where standing in his parking spot (not that you knew there was such a thing, most members could fly or at least jump really high, so you kinda always forgot he couldn’t…and to be honest you didn’t know his exact powers)

—Sorry—was all he said as he got out of the strangely shaped flying vehicle and directed only one glance at you to make sure you where ok before entering the building, always maintaining that characteristic calm and cold demeanor.

One day you entered the hall of justice earlier than usual only to find an unexpected guest sitting in one of the empty chairs his gaze fixated on a book, he was wearing a rather colorful suit of some sort matching his green mask, then you realized when you were close enough…he was a C H I L D.

You panicked, why was a child here? Is he some sort of mini spy? How was he able to get through the security system?  Did he touch anything dangerous?

This and many more questions ran through your mind, the child noticed you were looking at him and only gave a polite nod as a greeting before returning his attention to his book.

Perhaps a school trip that you weren’t aware of was taking place and this kid strayed from his class? Perhaps he was looking for one of your teammates to ask for a photo and got lost and decided to wait here for his teacher? That will explain why everyone wasn’t here in the meetings room, perhaps they were busy giving the (hypothetical) group of children a tour?

—Hey kiddo! Are you lost? —you began the conversation in a friendly tone before kneeling down a little in order to appear less imposing…after all he was a child you didn’t wanna scare him.

He looked at you so incredulously.

You could almost hear him think “ma’am wtf are you doing???” through his expressions.

—What’s your name?

—Ummm…uh…Robin?­—He spoke like it was something obvious  while signaling the “R” symbol on his chest.

—Robin, uh? What a pretty name! tell me Robin…why are you here? Are you lost?

Poor boy he was so confused, you didn’t know who he was? Didn’t any of the members told you about him? And more importantly…Why where you talking to him like if he was a 5-year-old?

—No, ma’am…I’m just waiting for Batman.

“Batman? Was he a fan of Batman of all superheroes?”  It surprised you a bit, usually kids tend to like superman or wonder woman more since they are nicer and charismatic, and Batman was the opposite.

—Sorry Kiddo, I don’t think he’s one for photos, perhaps you could ask the others some other time! ­— you began explaining trying to dissuade the kid while guiding him towards the exit.

—He’s not here for photos—smooth as ever…the Bat was behind you.

—He’s my sidekick.

Your jaw dropped, a sidekick? He’s a CHILD! You knew superheroes had sidekicks, but you never knew they were that young!

Before you could even begin to protest, Batman ignored you, looking down at the child and instructing him to collect his things.

—Hurry, you’ll be late for class again. — He said before disappearing behind the door that led to his parking spot.

Robin quickly followed, hanging his backpack over his shoulder before stopping in his tracks directing an apologetic smile towards you and saying:

—Don’t worry miss, I can take care of myself! — He must have noticed the concern on your face before leaving.

Since that day your routine changed.

You would wake up earlier, many times you’ll be the first to arrive to the Hall of justice, and even have breakfast flying on your way there all for one thing: Robin.

Once you learned he was Batman’s sidekick you couldn’t help but worry over that poor child, “what if he gets hurt? Is he eating/sleeping/resting properly?” you just couldn’t help yourself.

At first it was just checking on the kid by just…seeing him in the morning and greeting him casually but there were times he wasn’t there, and you would panic internally and there was no other way to calm your anxiety until you would ask the Bat about the child.

He would always replay shortly: “He’s at home” “He’s at school” “He’s busy” and your conversations always would end there.

One day that Robin was there however, instead of your usual ‘greeting nod’ he started talking to you.

He asked you all sorts of things (that weren’t compromising to your real identity ofc) “What’s your favorite color?” “What music do you like?” “What’s your favorite movie?”

And it started from there.

The conversations with Robin grew not only more frequent but also more personal (as personal as someone with a superhero lifestyle can be), to the point it had become a routine for you to come early and talk to the boy, sometimes you had breakfast together or even helped him with his homework before the Bat would take him to school.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t have many acquittances here on earth, but Robin became family to you.

And family takes care of each other.

It had been a rather difficult and spontaneous mission; Lex Luthor was starting to act a little bit fishy (more than usual) using his connections and money Luthor had been acquiring/robbing very specifically concerning items all over the US, his next objectives: a Radion sample being investigated in a secret laboratory in Star city and a Dionesium sample...contained in the Wayne tower laboratories...

The team decided to split to put a stop to Luthor’s minions and his plan.

The Bat insisted the rest of the team should go to Star city, telling them that he and Robin could handle it, but everyone was immediately against it: Luthor had already collected relatively powerful items and being the intelligent motherfucker he is, probably transformed some of those items to give to his goon’s so they might have a chance in harming any of the members if they were to interfere.

Ultimately, the team agreed you and cyborg would accompany them to Wayne Tower.

Robin was stoked, he would get the opportunity to fight alongside you! But Batman…not so much…he kept trying to lose the two of you on the way there; fortunately, cyborg put a tracker on the batwing, he wasn’t going to get rid of you that easy.

Upon your arrival, you could spot several men (armed like if they were military but with a much more upgraded equipment) already leaving the building, carrying two tanks (presumably full of that substance Martian Manhunter had mentioned before) and heading to a truck without any plates.

Long story short: you organized a plan as quickly as you could but…something went wrong…Cyborg and Robin were supposed to create a distraction while the two of you recovered the tanks without damaging them, since the properties of the substance within remained unknown.

But something went wrong: You and Batman failed to coordinate and so you were spotted by the henchmen, they started aiming their weapons at the two of you, initially you thought a force field generated by the power of your ring would be enough...oh no, honey, you’re so wrong.

Sonic weapons were able to not only break your concentration quickly, but also made your ears bleed! One after another you kept re-making the fields, but the sonic waves so deathly and loud just kept coming.

You don’t know how but you were able to stand your ground long enough to make cover not only for Batman and allow him to get the tanks back safely but also for the rest of your team and give them a slight advantage to take down as many of Luthor’s minions as they could.

And then…you passed out.

You woke up at the infirmary in Justice Hall, your head a mess and wrapped in bandages, you had broken your arm because that shit inside a cast too for some reason…and…your ring was gone!

Panic!

No, never mind it was on the nightstand next to the chair in which batman was sitting on.

WAIT…next to the chair in which batman was sitting on?!?!?!

—How are you feeling? — you didn’t know if it was him suddenly talking or the genuine concern on his voice that startle you, so you just nodded slightly while he approached you.

—Can you hear me properly? —Surprisingly you could, but you still were a bit taken aback by his presence.

—I…­—Before responding your brain reminded you of the fact that you didn’t had your ring on, hence your secret identity was revealed to Batman. Your hands practically flew to your face in embarrassment. You didn’t know why but without your mask you felt naked and vulnerable.

He noticed.

His gaze studying your pained expression before he let out a small sigh.

—I came here…to thank you…and apologize— hesitantly his hands moved to the back of his cowl.

—You not only put yourself in danger for Cyborg and Robin, but you also concerned yourself with my safety even when it was probably my fault that we ended up in that situation —He admitted pressing a hidden button loosing up his cowl before finally taking it off and reviling the most gorgeous man you’ve had ever lay your eyes on.

—And for that I thank you and apologize…sincerely—Such sudden action left you speechless for a while, Batman not only had thanked you and apologized, but he had entrusted his identity to you.

—I think-…I think we started with the wrong foot; you know? —You finally were able to respond, breaking the silence that filled the room and surprising him slightly by your sudden declaration.

—Let’s start again…Hi! I’m Y/N—You imitated the same friendly voice tone you first used to talk to him.

The lips on the man in front of you curved forming a subtle almost imperceptive grin.

—Hello, Y/N, I’m Bruce…Bruce Wayne.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

 WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IT. TOOK. SO. LONG. Sorry :c

I had a bunch of ideas for this request but ended up going with this one since I wanted to expand on their beginning, I’m still trying to figure out a way to write Bruce and this was my first attempt, so…sorry if it was…bad :c I’ll try harder next time!!!

Any errors you might see, please let me know; English is not my first language so I’m trying to improve.

In the final scene I wanted Bruce to show he recognized the Reader as an equal so that’s why he took it off…still I felt like it could improve.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov​ where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be a little bit fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway! Thank you for reading!

[aestheticallyholland]

NEVER NOT | AFTER YEARS . . .

❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader

❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !

❃ WORD COUNT 2.8k words

❃ AUTHOR'S NOTES you have reached the final chapter of my tom holland series, never not! for those who have reached this part, i would like to say thank you so much for taking your time to read this cliche story that i wrote originally on wattpad, and hopefully, you enjoyed and loved it. thank you also for the constant reblogs and likes for each chapter in this series. i truly appreciate every reblog and like you gave. i also hope that you are satisfied with the ending of this series. with lots of love, lei <3

NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY

"All love stories are tales of beginnings. When we talk about falling in love, we go to the beginning, to pinpoint the moment of freefall." - Meghan O'Rourke

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ONE MORE POSE FOR ME!"

Flash.

"And another one!"

Flash.

"Alright!" Y/N exclaimed and removed her Canon 90D DSLR camera from her right eye. "That's it for today, guys! Great job everyone!" shouted once more and looked at the photos that she took from the monitor of the computer.

She was doing a photoshoot for one of the famous magazine companies, The Hollywood Reporter. She was one of the photographers for the magazine company for almost a year already. She surely was so happy to receive a call way back a year ago before that she was hired. And, she surely was so happy to pursue what she dreamed of.

"Great shots, Y/N. Great as always." Someone said from behind her and Y/N could just smile at the compliment.

"Thank you, Millie." She said and looked at Camille. Camille became a fashion designer like how she always wanted to be. She worked alongside Y/N in several photoshoots just this year, coincidentally.

"Want to grab some coffee on the way home?" Camille asked as she prepared her purse and placed it on her shoulder.

"Sure," Y/N said and got the hard drive that was plugged into the computer since all of the photos were there. Not only was she a photographer but also one of the editors for the magazines. "But after that, I gotta go somewhere."

"Are you gonna go to that place again?" Camille asked and Y/N looked at her and nodded as an answer. They walked out together as they were the only people left there.

"I'll probably call Erika after you go. Just gonna remind her about the reunion that our family had planned for this weekend." Camille said while walking beside Y/N.

"But she'll probably be with Harrison right now," Y/N said.

"They're still together all these years? Never knew she was a relationship person honestly." Camille said.

"Me either. But, she's happy so I'm happy for her." Y/N said.

They entered the coffeehouse that was packed with busy people. The scent of coffee went to their noses as soon as they got in.

"I totally forgot that it's still Friday today," Camille said. "So many people."

They lined up in the long line since there was only one cashier available.

"By the way, have you seen the latest movie?" Camille asked Y/N and she gave a confused look.

"Which one?" Y/N asked back.

"I think it was the— erm— The latest Spiderman movie. I don't know the full title but I heard they just released a new one this month." Camille said. "Tom is in it right?"

Tom.

That name that Y/N will never forget.

Y/N smiled under her breath before answering her. "Yeah, I guess."

After that, they just waited for the line to be shorter and shorter until they were the next one to order. After they ordered, they stood in the corner waiting for their coffee to be made.

"One cappuccino and latte for Y/N!"

"I'll get it," Camille said and walked fast to get their orders. She mouthed thank you to the lady and went to Y/N's side again. "Here's your cappuccino," Camille said and handed Y/N her drink as they made their way out of the coffeehouse.

"So, I'll see you on Monday at work?" Camille asked.

"Always." That was what Y/N answered. "Take care!" She added before waving goodbye to Camille and went in the opposite direction as her with her drink in her hand.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N parked her car on the side of the empty road. After how many months, almost a year, of driving lessons, she could finally drive for herself.

Before she got out, she got her drink and her other things first and removed her coat. She got out of the car with her things and shut the door and locked it.

The wind suddenly blew her hair and she smiled at this great feeling. As she walked towards the sand, she took off her shoes and placed them in the same spot that she would sit on. Luckily, no one was in the place other than herself.

The sun was almost setting and the waves were still moving in the ocean. She had come to this place almost every day or at least most of the time. The light of the sun reflected on the sun symbol on her bracelet that he gave her a few years back. She sighed at the thought of him.

She had lost contact with him just almost a year ago because of his busy schedule but Harrison would be the one to tell her how Tom was doing and all. Well, not really lost contact but they rarely contacted each other for the past few months due to their work.

Although those had happened, she never stopped going back to this place that Tom wanted her to always go. This was the place that kept her alive and stress-free.

Their relationship had its ups and downs.

Tom became one of the most famous celebrities in the world ever since he got the role of being Spiderman. After that, he had more upcoming movies for the past years later on.

Although there may have been rumors about him being in a relationship with one of his co-stars, Zendaya, because of their roles in Spider-Man, her trust for him remain. Although at some point, it hurt her but that just passed away.

Overall, she was happy for him and for what he has achieved. She was so proud of what he had become. It didn't stop her from visiting his family's house and spending time with them.

"I wish you were here right now." She whispered to herself as the wind could not stop making her hair fly.

"And I'm here." A voice said from a distance but loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widen at this very familiar voice and her eyes began to water.

She slowly looked in the direction of the voice that she heard and there stood the person that she has been waiting for.

He gave her the same smile that she would never forget. He still looked the same as before but he was more muscular now. He looked better in person than on the big screen or in his interviews. His brown hair is now shorter but still had curls on.

"Tom?" She whispered and he could just easily read her lips calling his name. He opened his arms widely for her. She then ran up to his open arms and did not think twice about wrapping her arms around him. He spun her around as soon as he closed his arms around her.

Her tears fell from her eyes while hugging him. When Tom heard her sob, he placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair. "I'm home, love." He whispered to her.

She pulled away for a while and admired him. His face features, his hair. Everything about him. She suddenly pinched his cheeks with both of her hands that surprised Tom.

"Ow! What was that for?" He asked as he felt the slight pain from the pinch. His voice is deeper than before and his British accent is kind of mixed with an American accent.

"You are real," Y/N said that made Tom chuckle.

She was still as adorable as always. Tom thought

"Of course I am. You thought you're hallucinating?" Tom asked her and she nodded.

"It's been so long to finally see you personally," Y/N said and she slapped him on the chest. "You kept me waiting you know!"

"I'm sorry, love." Tom apologized and kissed her forehead. "Four years, huh?"

"And three months," Y/N added while looking at him and grinned.

"You have been counting," Tom said that made Y/N nod. "I missed you so much." He said and pulled her for a hug again. "God, I do miss you."

"I missed you too, Thomas." She replied and noticed the scrunchie that was on his wrist. The same scrunchie that she gave him before. "You kept it." She said and held to his wrist where the scrunchie was and smiled at him.

"Of course. It really reminded me of you." He answered.

They decided to sit down and talked about each other's new life. Tom was surprised about Y/N's career since he never thought she would be into photography like his brother, Harry.

"Your mom really influenced me to go to that," Y/N said. "That's why I'm so grateful for her."

"I had a photoshoot in that company actually," Tom said and that made her eyes widen. "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that was like two thousand seventeen or something." He answered.

"Your American accent is really showing up," Y/N said and smiled at him.

"Well, most of my roles required this accent which I'm good at, surprisingly." He answered.

"How long have you been here already?" She asked him, curiously.

"Just today. I told my family first and Harrison that I was coming back for a week's vacation. And, I wanted to surprise you." He answered and placed his arms around her shoulders. She placed her head on his shoulder and gave a relieved sigh. Her happiness cannot be measured right now.

"You wanna go to the water?" Tom said and Y/N suddenly ran away from him and giggled.

"If you could catch me first!" Y/N said and ran which made Tom scoffed a laugh.

"I will!" Tom said and chased after her. After a few seconds of running, Tom was a few inches away from her and scooped her legs and carried her bridal style and he walked towards the water.

"No! Put me down! The water is gonna be so cold!" Y/N said but Tom ignored her and laughed. Then, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and forcefully pushed both of them down together to the water.

"Holy shit, the water is so cold," Y/N said as she raised her head up from the water as well as Tom. "Damn you, Holland!"

"You're gonna pay for that," Tom said and splashed her with water and Y/N did the same. Basically, the couple had a water fight. They kept laughing and splashing on the water to each other even as they stood up.

Tom then grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her closer to him. They both wrapped their arms around each other and Y/N just gave a light laugh.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Do you have a towel in your car?" Tom asked as they got out of the water, their bodies and clothes soaking wet as they stayed there a while ago to watch the sunset.

"Yep. It's on the back. I came prepared." Y/N said as she gave Tom the keys and walked towards her car. Tom could just laugh.

Tom got the towel and wrapped it around Y/N's body and continued to hug her from behind. They decided to stay on the beach a little longer until they dried up. After a few minutes, they then went inside the car with Tom as a driver although Y/N insisted that she would drive.

They went directly to Y/N's apartment that she rented ever since she got her work. Tom parked in the basement of the building. As soon as they got out, Tom locked the cars and gave Y/N back her keys. They walked together and got to an elevator going to her apartment.

"How's your dad and Aria?" Tom asked as Y/N shoved the key on the doorknob.

"They are doing great actually," Y/N answered. "Aria got a job in New Zealand in tourism. And, will you believe that my dad actually got married a year ago?" Y/N said happily and opened the door.

"Really? I never heard of that." Tom said.

"Because we made it a private wedding so it's only our relatives and Mom Trina's family too," Y/N explained to Tom. "Mom Trina is an amazing woman and I'm glad they got to meet each other."

"Your mom will be happy that your dad is happy," Tom said and Y/N could only smile.

She placed her things down the counter table. "This is my home." She said to Tom who was looking everywhere in the apartment. "It's not that bad." He said.

"Yep. In my room, I get to see the city and the sunset and sunrise too." While Y/N was talking. Tom just kept staring at her, admiring her. He couldn't explain how happy he felt when he finally saw her again. He walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. This startled Y/N a bit but she held his arms and leaned her back to his chest.

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" Tom whispered and moved her hair away and gave a peck on her neck.

"Destiny, I guess." She answered and turned around to face him. She saw him looked at her lips and decided to close the gap between them by pressing her lips to his. Tom responded to the kiss and pulled her closer to him. As soon as the kiss became heated, she jumped and wrapped her legs around Tom's waist and he was carrying her. He then walked towards her room and shut the room by kicking his foot at the door while kissing and carrying her.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ray of light hit Y/N's eyes as soon as she woke up. She felt strong arms around her bare waist and she smiled. She yawned and stretched her legs before she tried to move Tom's arm around her. She could still hear his soft snores beside her. His curls are really showing off when his head was on the pillow. She tried to get up but was stopped when she felt a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the bed. Strong arms wrapped around her again but this time tighter.

"Tom!" She exclaimed.

"Don't leave me here," Tom mumbled while his eyes were still closed and snuggled his head to her neck which tickled a little.

"Alright, baby," Y/N said and snuggled back at him. "But I have to cook breakfast. It's like almost lunch already."

"That was a long long night." Tom teased and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she remembered what happened last night. She slapped Tom's arm playfully who just laughed at her. "Let's do it again," Tom whispered in her ear with a husky voice and attempted to kiss her again but Y/N covered his mouth with her hand.

"Nope, nope. Not happening." Y/N said as she shoved his arms away from her and stood up with the blanket wrapped around her. "You better go and shower, Holland!" She exclaimed as she exited her room.

"Join me, then!"

"Shut it, Thomas!"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Alright, we're on our way now, mum," Tom said through his phone as he drove in the road. "Love you too. Bye." He ended the call and placed his phone down. His eyes focusing on the road.

"What did she say?" Y/N asked.

"Harrison and Erika are already there and there done preparing." He answered and she just nodded as an answer. He glanced at her and smiled, taking her nearest hand and intertwining their fingers together. Y/N looked at him and smiled back. Tom decided to stop driving for a while which made Y/N confused. He parked the car on the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asked, concerned.

"I just..." Tom paused for a while. "I'm just so happy that I got to see you again," Tom said and looked at her deep in her eyes.

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. "Me too, Tom." She said.

"I'll take you with me once my vacation is over," Tom said and her eyes widen.

"But I have work—"

"I already talked to your manager and he's fine with it. He's gonna give you a break for a while." Tom said.

"How is that even possible?" She asked and giggled.

"Secret," Tom said and grinned. "I want you to see my work and some of the co-stars want to meet you."

"Seriously?" Y/N asked. "You talked about me to them?"

"Yep." Tom answered, emphasizing the 'p'. "Even the Avenger cast wants to meet you."

"Alright, then. I'll get to see celebrities." Y/N squealed and smiled at him. "At least I get to see my boyfriend work. This is exciting."

Tom placed a hand on her nape and pulled her head closer for him to kiss your forehead and lips.

"I love you, my love." He said. "You are my world and my everything."

Oh, how lucky they were for each other.

"I love you, too, Tom."

Always.

Forever.

Fin.

❝ WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL

WE WERE SO TRAGIC

NO OTHER MAGIC

COULD EVER COMPARE ❞

❃ ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE to add, feel free to also comment or reblog how this series was. i would lovre to read your thoughts and feelings about this series. once again, thank you for reading NEVER NOT, by yours truly 🦋

❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires @robertpattinson-th @jackiehollanderr @butterflies-glitter

[ginnywasafriendofmine]

So I wrote this last night while wondering if things could have turned out differently if James Potters parents had survived. It evolved in a way I didn't expect (Euphemia Potter, where have you been hiding?) It's not finished either, but here is what I have so far...

They lived

When Fleamont Potter first felt the stirrings of pain, deep in his chest-he ignored it. He was no healer, and it was to be expected in his age after all. He ignored it when he felt it flutter through his spine, passed it off as a working hazard when he felt a pang in his knees. (He shouldn’t have been fiddling with that old cauldron anyways).

But when his wife said to him, almost idly at the fireside-

“Will you remind me to owl Healer Robbins in the morning? I had a strange pain in my shoulder earlier, and it doesn’t seem to have gone away just yet.”

Fleamont looked at his wife, her hands quick and nimble as they laced glimmering threads through soft fabric. He looked at his wife, and saw his life’s love before him. He saw the dark eyes that had drawn him to her, the sharp wit of her tongue and the power and grace he knew not. He saw beyond her greying hair and the fine lines that told stories of their joy, and saw the life they had built. The garden they had cultivated, the business that had flourished beneath their feet, the son who had his mothers eyes as well as her spirit, her spark, her joy. 

Fleamont looked at his wife, his partner and knew that the world would be just that dimmer without her.

“Actually dear, I think we should owl them tonight.”

Their young son, his dark head of hair ducking under the mantle as he arrived, joined them at St. Mungos, his glowing wife at his side, her fingers weaving knots into her robes. James paled as he watched the Healers gather around the ones who had given him life, and he rushed to call his brother to his side, their dark heads bowed together as they sat in the crowded little waiting room. 

So Fleamont saved his wife, but he died that Thursday afternoon with his little family gathered at his bedside, his last act of love surviving without him. 

Lily Potter may have danced with her new father-in-law at her wedding, his beaming smile as bright as the candles flickering around them but it was to her husband's mother, alone, that she passed her newborn baby to.

Harry Fleamont Potter felt a fitting tribute, and James was sure he wasn’t imagining the tears sparkling in his mothers eyes.

Harry learned to walk through his grandmother's begonias, the ones that, in another life he may have walked towards his namesake. Or in another life, he would not know existed at all. 

When the war which had brewed around them throughout their adolescence came knocking at their door, James cloistered his young family into Godric's Hollow, leaving his mother alone at the Manor where he had frolicked and grown and on one fine summer's day wed his now targeted wife. 

James did not apologise to his mother as he kissed her goodbye. He didn't need to. 

Her second son, the one whose hair was as Black as his name, as black as the scorch mark his birth mother had left in his wake, loped through the wards every few days. Neither of them dared voice the hope, that courageous flighty thing that had found a home within their chests as they sipped their tea, watching sunsets that should have been savoured. 

But they did dare to hope, they dared to trust. And James Potter, who may have his mothers eyes and her spirit, also had his fathers unwavering loyalty. He trusted the wrong man.   

(and their protection fell, shocks of green light rang through the air, and a boy who had found love and joy in the presence of his first friend, found his worst nightmare come to life instead as he rushed through the air on a motorbike he would soon hand away). 

And the dog chased the rat, and the rat knew how to disappear when all the dog knew how to do was grieve. 

Fleamont’s last act of devotion didn’t change the fact that Euphemia woke up on November 1st with an intrinsic feeling of dread. When she opened the door she wasn’t faced with a scarred orphan as a shrieking Petunia Dursley was three counties over, but with the weary and regretful eyes of the men in red robes who had come to symbolise loss in their world. 

Euphemia managed to hold it together, her head held high until they used the words ‘Death Eater’ and ‘Sirius Black’ in the same sentence. Only then did she start to laugh, that horrible haunting laugh that only Blacks could. For Euphemia may have looked like her mother who had grown up across the world, but she was still a Black.

The two men, who had expected a feeble old woman and had gotten a glimpse of true Black madness did not think to question her when she demanded an escort to the Ministry. For her dear, kind son and his brave and bright wife would have to wait, their bodies still and cool as they would be for eternity, for it was her second son who needed her now. Her second son who sat in a stone cell and had cried himself to sleep.

For all that Remus-scarred, sweet, lonely and heartbroken-thought it was Sirius still, Euphemia knew her son. She knew he couldn’t be responsible for this. She also knew the look in a boy’s eyes when envy and greed had made its way deep into his heart, and she had seen it on Peter Pettigrew’s face one too many times to be as trusting as her dearly departed son.

With the power of her husband's name and his wealth she bullied an unsuspecting Barty Crouch into a trial the very next day, where a relieved Remus sat beside her, shaking while she was still. Later Sirius had wept apologies into her cloak, his regret tangible and as dark as his hatred for the man he had once called a brother. 

Sirius did not spend his 22nd birthday as he had planned, holed up with three Potters, being plied with cake and butterbeer, but he spent it screaming at the man he had once called a leader, at the man whose heart may have been heavy with regret, but whose hands still meddled in places he ought not to touch. 

The day after they gathered in Godric’s Hollow and watched a pair of twin coffins lowered into the fresh earth.

(While miles away, Harry cried for his mother and wondered why this woman who did not resemble anyone he knew had hands as sharp as her beady eyes).

Euphemia had saved her son from twelve years in Azkaban, but that did not mean she was going to leave the precious boy that had somehow survived, her husband's namesake, with a woman who had hated her own sister nearly as much as she had once loved her. 

Euphemia hadn’t expected Dumbledore to interfere. 

Dumbledore had expected Euphemia to acquiesce once he had explained with words like blood protection, and love sickly sweet on his tongue.

But she did not. 

Perhaps, in another world-one where Fleamont survived the night that his dear wife did, this would have played out differently. Quieter perhaps.

But Euphemia was different from Monty. She had grown up having to hold her head up, high, above the snickers and the stares and the comments. She had grown up between two worlds; not white enough, not dark enough. Having to make space for herself in a world that did not know what to do with her. 

When she first visited her family in India it wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of joy, she had expected, but rather a deep, dark loss in her soul. A wanting, a longing, a missing she would never truly understand. The colours were just as vivid, the smells just as enchanting, the sounds, the streets filled with life. But Mia had grown up across the world, where she’d had to learn to pronounce her r’s just so, how to preen, and dress and and hide so much of herself away that she’d never really found it again. Mia had grown up with a mother who was just as much a British citizen as everyone else around them, but different in a way they would never understand. 

(It was only when she met a man with eyes as deep as the ocean, and a smile that made her feel like she could soar did she feel she was coming out of the seams. Bit by painstaking bit). 

So yes, Monty, with his lineage and his old money and his class wouldn’t have dared, his fight would have taken place quietly, behind the scenes, where there was no fuss, no ruckus. 

But Monty wasn’t here anymore, and Mia had spent her life being quiet. 

So she raged, and stormed and threw herself into a battle with the most powerful man in Wizarding Britain. She argued her way through the courts, through countless politicians, secretaries and bureaucrats who she had spent her life kowtowing to when she was nothing but an immigrant's daughter with no power they could understand. 

And she won.

The snow had just begun to stick, and the lights were up in the neighbors windows when her grandson finally came home to her, with a trembling lip and a scarred forehead.

Euphemia Potter held him close - his hair smelt just like James had, when he was little, when her entire world could fit in her arms-and then passed him to her other son. The one who hadn’t been born from her, but who she loved just the same.  

They’d both had something taken from them, something ripped away with a cold curse and a flash of light, and she knew that only they could understand each other now. So Mia stayed in her opulent and empty house, and Sirius settled in the South Wing at the room that had always been his, his godson slumbering safely in his arms. 

That first Christmas was as dark as the words carved into stone back in Godric's Hollow. Two men who had to learn to trust each other again and a woman who many had expected to break by now. Only Harry’s laugh, his smile, his sparkling eyes could light up their bleak and unforgiving day. 

So Harry forgot the mean, cold woman who stared at him like something she would rather forget, and spent the spring with his grandmother as she planted flowers, her fingers quick and nimble as they had always been. He spent it with his godfathers-both of them-while one suffered each month as he always had, but whose love for Harry never wavered, and the other finally grew up.

For in this world Sirius Black did not wile away his years counting his regrets as he counted the bars on his cells. In this world he strategised, he built battle plans with the same fervour and determination he might have used to sliver between those bars as a shaggy, black dog. He focused on wiping out the forces that had taken so much of the light from their world. 

But he did not do this alone. For in losing one brother, he had gained another back. 

Regulus Black did not go to die in the cave that dark day in October of 1979. He would still be brave, and fierce, and full of righteous anger, but he did not die alone and afraid. Regulus Black had been in St. Mungos that summer, regretfully rejecting his prized and hard worked offer of a place as a Healer. 

Regulus Black had been there. He had seen his brother-the one who he missed as much as Petunia Evans missed her own sister-pale and weary with grief. He had seen him stumble in the corridor from Fleamont Potters room, the loss deeply etched in his face. 

Grief is the price we pay for love.  

Regulus had watched his brother, and wondered if perhap there were things worth living for-as much as they were worth dying for.

So despite what his mother, and the Dark Lord, and about every other Black relative wanted him to do-A Healer? How plebian. Regulus Black did what he had always yearned to, and was brave. He tore the rejection letter from the secretaries fist, and asked, with a weak attempt at his brothers bravado;

“What day do I start?”

So Regulus had taken a different path, a path that was still hard-for the road to hell was still paved with good intentions. 

Regulus stood with his head held high above the looks and snide comments-from both his Death Eater cohorts and his fellow trainees. But the Dark Lord could not touch him, could not stray him from this path, for the vow that was taken on his first day of orientation had sworn him to the Healing service, and even Tom Riddle knew some vows could not be broken.

Regulus Black had taken a different path (though the knowledge of the Horcrux and the unrelenting question of what/when/how still lingered) and was finishing up his rotation in the children’s ward when his long lost brother rushed in, a feverish child in his arms, and panic wreaking havoc in his young face.

“Please, I don’t know what’s wrong-I-I, he wouldn’t eat, and now he’s warm, too warm, and I-”

“Hand him to me.”

And Sirius had passed over the child he thought of as a son to a man he didn’t recognise and saw a boy he had once known. 

“I-Reggie-?”

But Regulus had always been good at his job. Even the other trainees, who glowered at him through the corridors as they once had in Hogwarts could not deny this. Regulus saw the brother whose approval he had always craved, but he did not think of it now. Regulus only looked at the child who lay shivering before him, and set to work.

Dragon Pox may have taken Fleamont Potter, but Regulus Black’s quick mind and steady hands ensured that his namesake did not follow in this regard. Sirius had cried tears of relief, and Remus had shaken Regulus’ hand so hard it felt bruised.

By now Harry had spent as much time without his parents as he had with them, and his loss would have taken his family to a place they could not return

Once Harry had settled, Mia Potter at his bedside and Remus Lupin fetching the blanket that Harry reached for every night, did the two brothers talk.

They spoke of nothing that had lingered deep in their minds, and their hearts in the years since the older one had departed.

“A Healer, huh?” Sirius Black tried to hide his surprise. 

Regulus bit back the 'You once told me I was good at Healing spells' and managed a smile. "Yes, coming on four years now.” 

Regulus felt young in his brother's presence (even if they were both the same height now).

“That’s… really great.” Sirius smiled, looking close to proud. 

“That's James son, isn't it?” Regulus asked, and watched the darkness flicker in his brothers eyes again.

“You can tell by the hair, huh?”

Really he could tell by the way Sirius looked at the boy-the same way he had always looked at James-but he smiled at his brother's attempt at humor anyways.

When the little family left two days later, a chagrined Sirius mumbled something out that was close to an invitation-coffee? Do you drink coffee? As he left St. Mungos, his beloved godson giggling in his arms. 

Regulus watched and wondered if perhaps he had gotten his brother back. If his brother would walk away from him again.

(He would, once he found out about the paradoxical life his brother led, a Healer who moonlights as a Death Eater. The life of one who fixes scars and curses he recognises, the life of one who is vowed to both worlds even as they threaten to pull him apart at the seams). 

But this time he would come back. And not on accident, stumbling in with a sick child, but with a determination for history not to repeat itself. 

For this Sirius Black knew about the transformative power of second chances.

Harry Potter grew up at his grandmother's elbow, learning about his culture, his heritage. What was left of it. Some had been lost to time, others to the journey made from Delhi to here. The rest to the pressure of a world who didn’t want girls with dark skin and a determined glint in her eye. 

But in this world Harry knew who he was. Where he had come from. What had been lost so he could live. And oh, did he live. 

He lived in the same trees and lakes his own father had made his kingdom at his age, he lived in the books his Moony shared with him-Moony, who watched as identical green eyes skimmed over the same pages he had seen a flame-haired girl devour. He lived in the adventures, the wild reckless stories and pursuits of his Padfoot. He lived in his grandmother's kitchen, watching her bake roti in between English cakes of lemon drizzle and his favourite treacle tart. 

Harry lived, and he knew what it was to be loved. 

(After all, a boy must live so he can learn to die. 

And even now, even here, Harry still had to be the boy who learned to walk to his death).

[joezworld]

Mind Reading, Soul Stealing, Red Eyed, Diesel Electric Monsters!

June, 2000

A new millennium dawned on the Island of Sodor, and with it came many changes that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.

British Rail was no more, and the North Western Region was now the North Western Railway, free to operate as it pleased.

One of the first things that The Fat Controller did was purchase a new express train.

Gordon was apoplectic at this news, but the Fat Controller explained that this new service was to be a through train to London - steam engines hadn’t been allowed on the mainland rails for decades, and under British Rail, a new locomotive would take the coaches to and from London. Now that BR was no more, it was more economical to purchase a dedicated trainset and avoid the locomotive change at Barrow.

Furthermore, Gordon would still be rostered on the midday express and the Limited, both of which only went as far as Barrow.

Pip and Emma had visited Sodor once before, and had been well received by the other engines. However, once it was revealed that Gordon would be displaced from some of his trains, some engines became suspicious...

The engines had speculated that the Fat Controller would purchase a new diesel locomotive to haul the train, and were very surprised to discover that he had instead bought a high speed train!

-

"Ah canno' put ma buffer on it," Douglas admitted. "But they're doing something! Just look at how they act - the lasses must be scheming or something!"

"Ah'm tellin' ye - they are up ta something!" Douglas said to the other engines in the shed.

"And wha' might that be Douggie?" Asked Donald. Unlike his brother, he had no issue with the diesels, and was confused as to why his brother was so vehemently against them.

"Those two have been nothing but polite and cordial this entire time, and- oh bollocks." Duck began, before his eyes widened in realization. "Do not tell me that you have been listening to Oliver again!"

The other engines groaned - Oliver's escape from the mainland had put him in contact with some of the worst diesels that BR had ever fielded, and he still didn’t trust them as a result. Furthermore, his relatively isolated duties on the Little Western meant that his only real contact with diesels was limited to BoCo, Bear, and Delta - three engines who had all 'escaped' from the mainland in one form or another. He held a pessimistic view towards other diesels, and most of the engines had learned to tune him out as a result.

Apparently Douglas had not. "Ah have - and he's right! That's how it starts - they come in all peaceful and nice, and then Boom! All diesels all the time! Ah saw it happen once and ah'm not about to let it happen again!"

"Oh my god" said Donald and Duck in unison. They were going to have words with Oliver the next time they saw him.

-

Across the yard at the newly-built diesel shed, the diesels were listening to Douglas' ranting.

"Well, I'm glad that we haven't actually done anything to upset him." Pip said after a moment.

"I was worried that we'd said something." Emma chimed in from the back.

Bear rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, let me be the first to say that I am glad that you aren't actually evil monsters out to destroy steam traction."

Everyone laughed at that, and evidently did so just a little bit too loud, because...

"AH KNEW IT! They're conspiring against uz!" Douglas shouted from inside the shed.

The diesels stopped laughing and stared at the shed, while the steam engines began berating Douglas.

That brought a fresh wave of shouting from within the shed, while the diesels looked at each other incredulously.

The other engines weren't audible, but Douglas certainly was. "Well maybe no' on purpose! But ye don' know what these new things ken do! They might 'ave mind control powers or something!"

"Mind control powers?" Bear said with a raised eyebrow. "Where does he even get that from?"

"Is that normal?" Said Pip, suddenly concerned about having to work with these engines on a regular basis.

"Not especially." Said Delta. "But when it does happen, they're like this until they suffer a karmically appropriate pratfall, at which point they realize that they've been stupid and apologize."

The others stared at her.

"What?" She protested. "Why do you think I never get too big for my wheels if I can help it? I've read the books! I know what happens to the rest of you!"

Bear and BoCo exchanged a significant look, while Pip looked thoughtful.

"So, that pratfall," she said slowly, a sly look spreading across her face. "Do you lot feel like speeding up when it happens?"

-------------

And so they did.

Henry and James were soon involved in this scheme by virtue of being 'involved' with Bear and Delta, and spent the next several days figuring out exactly what Oliver and Douglas were saying about Pip and Emma. They eventually compiled a long list of imagined abilities, including mind control, telepathy, soul-stealing, invisibility, and the ability to lie with a straight face.

(The steam engines disputed that last point, but all the diesels agreed that it was the only thing on the list that was true.)

-

A week later, they first sprang their plan. Douglas was idling at the big station as Pip and Emma loaded their passengers. He made a conscious effort to ignore the HST set, which was helped somewhat by Bear backing into the track in between him and them.

Then things began to go strangely.

"Oh, not much. How about you?" Bear said in response to nothing.

Douglas looked around to see who he could be talking to, and found nobody else.

"Very interesting." Continued Bear. "I'd never considered that before. Is that new?"

After a moment of silence: "I see."

A pause.

"I wonder how that would work on this Island?"

Silence.

"Really?"

More silence.

"Well I would have never guessed!"

Douglas began to wonder if he was losing his mind when Pip's guard blew his whistle and the HST rolled away towards Barrow.

After a long moment, Douglas spoke up. "Bear, who were ye talking to?"

"Pip?" Bear said, confused.

"No ye weren’t!" Exclaimed Douglas. "Ye were talkin' to thin air!"

"I was not! We were having a most interesting conversation. I'm surprised you didn't hear it, considering we were right next to you."

"Ye said nuthin!" Douglas protested.

"I think you need to get your hearing checked." Bear said as he pulled away with his goods train. He broke into a wide smile as soon as he was out of sight.

--

Next it was Oliver. He made a rare trip beyond the Little Western to collect a train of China Clay from Wellsworth. BoCo was asleep in the station's bay platform when he arrived, so Oliver quietly collected the clay wagons.

As he waited at the signal to leave, Oliver noticed that BoCo was mumbling in his sleep.

"No... mustn't... listen... to... evil... no one... controls... me..."

"BoCo?!" Oliver yelped, suddenly concerned by the diesel's mumbling.

"Huh?!" BoCo sprang to wakefulness suddenly, and Oliver would have sworn that for a split second, there was a red glint in BoCo's eyes. "Oh, hullo Oliver. Fancy seeing you out on the main line."

"You were talking in your sleep!" Oliver said, forgoing any pleasantries.

"I suppose I might have been." BoCo confessed. "I haven't been sleeping very well recently - none of us diesels have."

As Oliver began even more concerned than he had been mere seconds ago, the home signal on the main line dropped to 'clear', and Pip and Emma roared through the station bound for Tidmouth.

As they passed, Oliver jumped slightly - Pip, who was facing him, glared at him as he passed. It was especially unsettling because modern diesels had their end-of-train lamps built into their eyes, so Pip's pupils were bright red as she glared back at Oliver and BoCo.

"She's up to something..." Oliver said to BoCo.

BoCo said nothing in return, and when Oliver looked over, he almost jumped off the rails - BoCo's eyes were the same red colour as Pip's and he was staring into the middle distance.

"She isn't up to anything Oliver..." BoCo said hollowly. "Why would you say that...?"

Oliver squealed in terror, and fled onto the main line as soon as his signal dropped.

BoCo waited until Oliver's train had vanished from sight before turning his lights off and laughing hysterically.

----------

This continued for some time - Oliver and Douglas would see one of the diesels, and the diesels would act strangely at the mention of Pip and Emma.

By the end of the week, Oliver was jumping at shadows, and Douglas was telling his conspiracy theories to any engine that would listen.

"So then Delta gets this faraway look in ‘er eye an' she clams up!" Douglas crowed one morning at Knapford station. “An’ there was no other engine there! She musta’ been talking to them while they wuz invisible!”

Thomas was spellbound. "And then what happened?"

Henry was not. "And then Douglas discovered that there was a reasonable explanation to whatever just happened and learned not to tell tales to impressionable tank engines."

"Ah am not! They. Are. Up. Ta. Somethin'!" Douglas railed at the green engine. "Look, there's Bear now! Let's just see - he's gonna do somethin' if we watch him close enough."

Bear tooted his horn in greeting as he rolled by with a slow goods train. Seeing Oliver and Henry, he quickly flashed his red lights and dropped his engine down a gear as he rolled between Henry and Douglas.

"Play along!" He whispered to Henry as he went by, the noise of his engine masking the words.

Henry blinked. That was an unexpected move... He watched the goods train roll by - it didn't feel right, pranking Douglas like that.

The goods train hadn’t even gone past yet, and he could already hear Douglas ranting about how Bear was a "red-eyed scheming devil!"

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. He thought as he listened to Douglas make blameless accusations about his fiancé. To hell with it then.

"What did he say?!" Douglas bellowed after the train passed. "Ah heard 'im say something to ye Henry! What did the devil say to ye?!"

Henry, trying his best to keep his face neutral, looked at Douglas in shock. "Oh hello Douglas! When did you get here?"

Bear's train cleared the signal block, and Henry steamed out of the station, leaving Douglas raving about "memory alterin' beasties!"

The engines looked up as Donald steamed up to the diesel shed. 

“Ah knoo ye lot are doin’ this - knock it off before ma brother completely loses his marbles.” He said firmly. 

“Is he going to stop saying that we’re mind controlling demons?” Bear retorted. 

The steam engine sighed deeply. “Ah want ye to know that he wasnae sayin that before ye started, but ah’ll talk to ‘im. Mebbe we can work something out.”

He steamed back to the sheds. Within a few minutes the sound of Scottish-accented shouting burst from the sheds. 

This continued for some time, to the point where Henry had his driver pull him out of the shed to escape the noise. 

Eventually, both twins emerged from the shed, Donald looking aggrieved and Douglas much more subdued. 

“Ah’m sorry.” The twin eventually said. “Ah think that ah might have let this whole ‘new diesel’ thing get to me a bit more than ah should’ve.”

There was some muttering from Bear and Pip before BoCo shushed them. “We accept your apology Douglas. Sometimes we can all go a little overboard -”

“I don’t.” Interrupted Delta.

“You hid from the Thin Clergyman.” BoCo glared at her before continuing. “We all can go a little overboard at times, so I’m glad that we can now put this behind us. Friends?”

“Friends.” Douglas said after a moment.

“Good!” Cried a voice from inside Donald’s cab as Siobhan poked her head out. “Now that we’re done torturin’ me Da’ for being thick, I wan’ to know somethin - how did all of you manage to make yer eyes turn red like that?”

“Oh, this?” BoCo said as he turned on his red lamps, making his eyes glow red. “It really is just something we were built with.”

The other diesels blinked theirs as well to show that it was not an unusual thing to be equipped with. 

“Oh that is so creepy.” Siobhan shivered. "I love it!"

--

“Oh no.” Oliver gasped as he watched the diesels flash their mind-control rays at Donald and Douglas. “They got to them.”

“What do we do?” Whispered Thomas from the next platform over. 

“I don’t know!”

-------

After the truce between Douglas and the Diesels, life became much more peaceful on Sodor. 

Unless you were on Thomas’ branch line. 

Because only Thomas and Daisy regularly travelled down to the big station at Tidmouth, the rest of the engines on the line learned most of their news from the main line engines when they met at Knapford station. This meant that information was slow and sometimes unreliable on the best of days. 

Now that Thomas actively believed that Pip and Emma had mind-controlled the rest of the engines, that information stream became warped and distorted very quickly. 

Matters were made worse when Daisy was sent to the works for several weeks to have her engine rebuilt. To keep up with traffic, The Fat Controller sent an engine to assist, and Oliver was the first to volunteer. 

The branch line quickly descended into hysteria.

Looking back on this series of events, it is mind-boggling that none of the big engines noticed, however, they had assumed that Douglas had told Oliver that it was all a prank, and that Oliver was an engine that could be reasoned with. 

Furthermore, Gordon, now displaced from the morning and evening express, was insistent on trying out other passenger runs to see if he enjoyed them. This meant that the engines who normally pulled those trains were also displaced from their duties, meaning that the engines who usually met Percy, Thomas, and Daisy’s trains on a regular basis were instead arriving at Knapford on random days and times. The sudden paranoia of the branch line engines was therefore overlooked or dismissed as ‘tank engines being tank engines’.

Matters were made worse when Daisy returned from the works, allowing Oliver to return to the Little Western. 

Daisy was due to return around lunchtime, and so Oliver took his train to Tidmouth, and then immediately continued on with a train to Arlesburgh, while Daisy took the return service to Ffarquhar. 

The other engines on the branch were busy with trains at the north end of the line, and didn’t know that Daisy was returning that day. From their perspective, Oliver was ‘vanished’ by ‘them’, and replaced with a diesel interloper. 

The fact that Daisy had been on the branch line for almost fifty years at that point was immaterial. 

“How do we know that you’re really Daisy?” Percy asked late that night. “What if you’ve been mind-controlled by them to make us into your thralls?”

“Because if I was,” Daisy hissed, acid practically dripping off of her tongue. “I would have done it already. Go. To. Sleep!”

No more was said that night, but the other engines continued to view Daisy with suspicion. 

Daisy, now thoroughly unamused, began asking the big engines if mind control was something that she could actually do - just so that she could get some peace and quiet! 

This did not ease the branch line engine’s concerns at all. 

Daisy found that sleep was much harder to come by as a result.

-

Things eventually came to a head when an extremely sleep deprived Daisy backed down onto the milk van a little bit too hard. The shunter had failed to set the van’s brakes, and it rolled away down the hill towards the next station. 

Percy and Thomas had, as the result of a lost bet, switched jobs that day, which meant that Percy, Annie, and Clarabel were halfway up the hill behind Daisy when the milk van rattled into view. 

“Horrors!” Percy cried as his crew applied the brakes and jumped clear. 

The damage to Percy’s front wasn’t catastrophic, but it was bad enough for the breakdown train crew to put him on a flatbed so he could be taken to the works to be looked over. Clarabel, who was behind Percy and took a nasty bump in the collision, accompanied him. 

Wendell was sympathetic as he collected them, but Percy was still wary, especially because his flatbed had been coupled up to Wendell facing backwards, meaning that neither he nor Clarabel could see if the diesel had been mind-controlled. 

Wendell’s shocked laughter when Percy told him this was not encouraging. 

-

The trip went normally until they arrived at Kildane. There, another engine was waiting, and attached itself to the back of the train. Percy and Clarabel eyed it suspiciously. It looked like a diesel, but one they had never met before, and had a strange metal contraption on its roof, which it lowered before they set off again. 

“Hi!” The engine chirped as the train set off. “I’m Abbey! Who are you?”  

“Percy...” He said cautiously. Clarabel stayed silent.

As it turned out, Abbey was an electric locomotive. She wasn’t new to the island by any means, but she had arrived after Percy had begun working on Thomas’ branch full-time, so they’d never met. She was very chatty, very curious, and had no idea what Percy and Clarabel were talking about. 

“Mind-Control Rays?” She laughed as they rolled towards Kellsthorpe Road station. “How would that even work?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that if their eyes turn red and then they look at you, you’re done for!”

“Red eyes?” Abbey looked thoughtful. “Do you mean reversing lights? We have them built into our eyes so we don’t need lamps!” 

“What?” Percy was baffled. 

“Yeah! It’s something that all engines have nowadays.” Abbey’s brows scrunched together in thought. “I think that mine has an emergency backup battery... let me try...”

After a moment of squinting, the pupil of Abbey’s left eye flickered into a very familiar red gaze. 

-

Wendell was not paying attention to the conversation behind him at all, and was startled to attention when Percy and Clarabel began screaming. 

“What in the world is going on?!” He shouted, trying to look behind himself and see what was happening. 

“I don’t know!” Cried Abbey. “They just started screaming!”

The commotion drew the attention of Wendell’s driver and second man as well, which meant that nobody on the train noticed as the Kellsthorpe Road home signal suddenly dropped to ‘Danger’ as they drew nearer to it.

The train rumbled past the signal without stopping, and approached the station at speed. Wendell finally looked forward, and saw members of the station staff waving their arms at him as they tried to right a massively overloaded porter’s trolley that had fallen over on the foot crossing. 

“Diesel and Oil! Stop the train! Stop the Train!” He shouted, drawing his driver’s attention, who applied the brakes as they entered the station. 

“I want you to tell me what happened one more time.” The Fat Controller said as seriously as one could while standing ankle deep in tin foil. The station was covered in the stuff, as was Wendell, Percy, Clarabel, and Abbey.

“The porter’s trolley was a consignment of tinfoil going to a restaurant supply store in town.” The stationmaster started. “It came in on the last train, and then it fell. We tried to make them stop-”

“I threw the signal! I did!” The signalman interjected. “They just didn’t see it!”

“No, we didn’t.” Wendell’s driver admitted, shamefaced. “We were trying to see why -”

“Percy was screaming.” Finished the Fat Controller.  

“Yes sir.”

“Why was Percy screaming?” 

“We don’t know sir.”

“Abbey might!” Wendell chipped in while trying to blow flecks of tin foil out of his nose. “She was talking to them when they started screaming.”

-

As it turned out, Abbey knew exactly why Percy (and Clarabel) had been screaming, and was willing to talk about it at length. 

The Fat Controller's eyebrows rose into his hairline and stayed there as Abbey kept talking. Percy and Clarabel remained silent, although it was impossible to determine whether it was out of fear, stubbornness, or embarrassment. 

“Mind Control powers? Really?” The Fat Controller wanted to be upset, but just could not manage it. “Where on earth did that come from?”

“Oliver sir!” Percy finally spoke up. “He said that the diesels were taking over the island with their evil powers!”

A surprised sounding "oh no!” rose from the next platform - Henry was waiting with The Limited, and had heard most of Abbey’s explanation. 

“Do you have something to add to this?” The Fat Controller asked Henry, unsure how this story could get any more ridiculous. 

-

Henry did have something to add. 

-

“Sir, are you all right?” His assistant asked as they returned to the car. 

“I’m fine.” The Fat Controller managed. “I just need a moment.”

He shut the door to the car behind him, and as soon as he was alone, he laughed until he cried. 

[lovelystarlings]

Chapter One - Goin’ back to Hogwarts, Hogwarts

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was a beautiful chateau located in the north of France, surrounded by majestic gardens, and crystal fountains that were filled with water as clear as the ice sculptures that surrounded them. The place practically oozed elegance, perhaps that's why the Delacour parents had insisted Camille's sister's attend.

The Delacour's had been attending the school for centuries, right up to their grandmother, Dominique Delacour-who had been a full veela in her time. Dominique had married a man by the name of Lancelot Delacour, the father of their mother, Apolline Delacour. Both their father, Monsieur Delacour and their mother had attended Beauxbatons, their father only for a short while before it became an all-girls school. Due to Fleur, Gabrielle and Camille's grandmother being a full veela, the two were ¼ veela; giving them a full scholarship to Beauxbatons as the school had a strict student body of only veela's or veela blooded students, other witches needing to pay a large amount of money to attend.

However, Camille despised the school with a passion. It wasn't the students that went there, or the teachers. Nor was it the headmistress, who she had visited many times on account of helping her learn certain essential spells before she started her schooling at Hogwarts, a school in Britain that her parents had decided to send her to instead of Beauxbaton's. The school just wasn't her type of place, she wasn't fond of all the perfection and balls and girliness, she just hated it. Hence why Camille was so glad her parents were the way they are, she was glad they were understanding and allowed to her to switch.

That lead to her to where she was now, stood at the entrance of Kings Cross train station in London, crying her eyes out with her arms wrapped round her sister, who was sobbing just as much.

"I'll see you soon, ok? Summer's only like what, seven months away? And I might come home for Christmas, who knows?" Her sister sniffled, and Camille was stricken by the realization that she wouldn't see her family for over half a year, which was a long period of time considering they would be in completely different countries as well. Parting from Fleur gently, Camille took a hold of her trolley which held her case and her snowy owl, who she had named Persephone, after one of her favourite Greek myths. Looking down at her ticket and up at the platforms surrounding her, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips tilted. There wasn't a Platform 9 ¾ in sight. Hearing the ramble of a large family behind her, she turned her head and was reassured to see a group of red heads who looked slightly welcoming and had 'Hogwarts' written on their many cases.

"Excuse me," she spoke gently, her soft French accent showing as she tapped the woman on the shoulder and gestured to the trunk on her trolley.

"D-do you happen to know how to get to Platform 9 ¾ ?" She questioned, the woman who she had tapped jumping round, a wide smile on her face.

"Of course, dear! I was just about to explain it to Harry here," The lady spoke, her hand grasping Camille's hand in a comforting manner as she noticed the tear stains on her cheeks. A black-haired boy stood next to her waved, clearly out of place with the family. "You're a first year too I presume? So are Ron and Harry here." She pointed to the youngest ginger boy, who was staring at the brunette, almost entranced; Camille assumed it was her veela charm.

"Hi. I'm Camille." Camille spoke, her hand reaching out to shake Ron's, who shakily took the hand and shook it, his cheeks now blushing red. Cute, she thought, It matches his hair. "I'm Weasley-I mean Ron, Ron Weasley but you already knew that." Camille giggled slightly, letting the poor boy's hand go and grabbing her trolley as Mrs Weasley began to walk off, gesturing for her to follow.

"All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, Harry, you can go before Ron, and Camille you can go through with Harry."

Camille pushed her trolley round and started to walk towards the barrier, Harry by her side. Fear struck inside the young girl, she and the boy next to her were going to smash into the wall and get scolded by the muggles and then they'd be in trouble. Camille pushed harder on her trolley and ran faster, the barrier coming closer and closer and the trolley wheels wobbling as she began to lose control of it, her feet somehow still solid on the ground as she closed her eyes, ready to smash into the wall-yet the crash didn't come and she slowly opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with families and children with trolleys. A sign overhead read Hogwarts Express in bold black writing and Camille let out a sigh of relief. She locked eyes with the boy beside her, both smiling widely. Peering behind her, Camille spotted another sign that read Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

They had made it.

Camille and Harry made their way through the thick crowd until they eventually found an empty carriage near the very end of the train. Both had agreed that they should stay together as the two were new to Hogwarts, and Camille had begun to inform on the Wizarding World, shocked that he had lived with muggles for so long.

"Hey, do you need a hand with that?" One of the redheaded twins from earlier spoke as he followed through the wall.

"Please," Camille panted, sending a look to Harry who was simply watching her struggle, having already loaded his trunk into the carriage and was waiting for her to load hers up so they could enter.

"Oi, Freddy! Come over here and help the pretty lady!" He yelped over to 'Fred', leading Camille to assume that he was George. With the two's help, Camille's trunk was finally tucked away in the farthest corner of the compartment; she didn't want to risk her personal belongings being stolen.

"Thanks," she spoke as she grabbed Harry's hand and began to pull him up from his slouched position on the nearby bench, when one of the twin's began to point at the boy's forehead.

"Blimey," he spoke, as he leaned closer to Harry, who seemed uncomfortable with the lack of personal space the older boy seemed to have. "Are you-?"

"He is," said George, "Aren't you?" he added, nodding Harry's way, and giving a strange look to Camille, who had no idea what either of them were on about. The French didn't pay much attention to the British wizarding world, even during the Wizarding War they kept to themselves, only fighting in their own country.

"What?"

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins, the name ringing a bell in Camille's mind.

"Oh, him," Harry spoke, nonchalantly shrugging at the statement, "I guess I am."

The two boys stared at him in shock for a few minutes, only leaving reluctantly when they were called by their mother, who gave the other two children a kind smile and wave. Harry took a seat next to the window, Camille flopping herself on the chair opposite, ensuring no one else would be able to sit next to her. The two watched as Mrs Weasley said goodbye to her children, the twins still whispering and glancing occasionally at Harry.

The door to the compartment slid open and the young red headed boy from earlier stepped in.

"Is anyone sitting there?" He pointed at the seat next to Harry, "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and looked over to Camille, who had now tucked herself into the corner with a book, the title reading 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. It wasn't that Camille was anti-social or an introvert, she just felt that the two boys would connect more without her input, and who was she to get in the way of a budding friendship. All she was interested in was her book and the food trolley, the latter of which she hoped would be there soon, as she had skipped breakfast and was dying for some chocolate.

Ridding herself of her cardigan, she tucked her legs underneath her and continued reading, ignoring the twins who had once again popped up.

"Hey Harry, Camille," They spoke simultaneously, ignoring their brother who simply shook his head at the pair.

"We didn't introduce ourselves earlier. Fred and George Weasley. Budding bachelors," They gave a joking wink at Camille, who simply flipped them the bird as they laughed, "And this is Ron, our brother." They gestured to Ron, who also looked fed up with their antics. "Well, we'll see you happy people later, then." And with that they left, a pretty meaningless visit Camille thought, but who was she to question the actions of people she didn't know, especially when she herself could be strange at times.

"So, is it true what they said then?" The ginger boy spoke, and it was only then Camille noticed the grey rat that sat in his lap, its beady eyes seemingly glaring straight through the French girl, like the eyes of a predator would its prey. Reaching above her she draped her cardigan back over her shoulders, which at the moment were only covered by the thin straps of her dress, as she hadn't changed into her school robes just yet.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

[tommysparker]

Man In Leather

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

A/N: Woah, two fics in a row? Crazy I know. Anyways, here is the LONG awaited fic! I’m sorry it took so long to write, but here it is. Black&White CH.2 will be the main focus of my writing until I get it done, so stay tuned for whenever the hell that comes out. Till then, enjoy :)

Warnings: smut, couple no-no words, Harrison going commando in leather pants, fluff at the end and a bit of pining, kind of Grease!AU, hints of sub!haz, bad porn with an even worse plot

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The music was loud, the people were drunk, and you were hanging around the snack table while scanning the room, solo cup filled with death juice in hand. Totally normal Friday night. 

Your friends had left to go mingle, but not before encouraging you to find someone to get busy with, someone to get your mind off of him.  

Your mind wandered at the thought of him. Taken back to the summer nights on the beach, the sound of waves crashing against rocks as you cuddled on the bench-swing. Those late nights and early mornings filled with passion and intimacy…only to be ripped away when autumn decided to fall. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t Y/n Y/L/N,” a british accent sang over the music. 

You turned your head to see the infamous Tom Holland, with Greg Birks and a boy you didn't recognize standing behind him. 

“Tommy, long time no see,” you smiled. Tom had been a close friend of yours growing up, but grew apart under...unfortunate circumstances. “Thought you were too cool to hangout at shitshows like this?”

Tom laughed, “Only you would call one of the biggest parties on the block a “shitshow” darling. I’m actually here because a certain person wanted to see you,” his eyes glanced back at the guy standing next to Greg. 

The boy stepped forward, and you nearly fainted right there after one look. 

Harrison James Fucking Osterfield...in leather pants. 

The blue-eyed boy stood composed, but on the inside you knew he was nervous. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, which was new. Who were you kidding, everything about the person that stood in front of you was new. 

Last time you saw Harrison, he was wearing a cream-coloured sweater and sweatpants, hair messy and glasses pushed up on the bridge of his nose. And now, a year later, here he was. Except this time decked out in a leather jacket and white-tee, pants that honestly did not look comfortable, hair gelled back and eyes illuminated by the flashing lights. 

It took a few seconds for the initial shock to wear off before you collected yourself. “H-Haz I-...I didn’t recognize you, um, you look good.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. Get it together Y/L/N. 

Harrison smiled, taking in your appearance while his mind went back to the time you spent together. No matter what you were, or weren’t, wearing, you always looked incredible from his perspective. “Hi Y/n…” 

Tom took one glance between you two before pulling on Greg’s arm. “We’ll let you two catch up,” he not-so-subtly winked at Haz before soon being swallowed by the crowd of pissed partiers

The air suddenly became stiff once it was just you and him, neither of you knowing what to say next. Harrison fiddled with the silver ring on his finger, something you quickly took notice of. 

“That’s new...I mean, well everything about you is new. What happened to Haz who wore knit-jumpers and spec?” You questioned, genuinely curious how and more importantly why the sudden transformation from ‘library nerd’ to ‘biker gang’. 

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Yeah well, the boys thought it was time for a makeover...d-do you like it?” He studied your face, hoping for a positive reaction. 

You took in his attire again, except this time with more focus on how the material hugged his legs and arms tightly, and how the white-tee really brought out his eyes in the dim light, and how fucking sexy he looks with his hair gelled back like that. Oh yeah, you definitely like it. 

A wave of confidence flooded your body as you grabbed the sides of his face and crashed your lips onto his. Haz, startled at first but quickly came back to his senses, kissed back almost immediately. The familiar feeling of your lips moulding with his brought back so many memories. 

Stolen kisses before bed, hands all over each other, you pushing him onto the bed, holding his arms up and-- 

You were the first to pull away, breathing slightly heavier and a small smile forming at the corner of your mouth. “let me show you how much I love it.” You whispered in his ear, placing a gentle kiss at the edge before taking his hand and maneuvering your way to the upstairs rooms. Luckily for you, the owner of the house was a friend of a friend, so you had no problem finding a place with a decent sized bed. 

Harrison followed you eagerly, more recollections passing through his mind as he felt his pants become tighter than they already were. The whole journey up the stairs was a mess between quick kisses and tripping over one another, but a remaining constant was his hand laced into yours, without any objections. 

Once you both stumbled into the empty room and closed the door, Harrison pulled you into a needy make-out session. Your back was pressed against the wall while your hands wandered beneath the leather jacket, feeling his toned muscle through the thin shirt. Meanwhile, the blue-eyed boy gripped your hips, squeezing the love-handles gently causing a light hum to emit from your vocal cords. His fingers gently tugged at the hem of your shirt, and that’s when you knew it was time. The music from downstairs drowned out from both your awareness, in that moment the only thing you could focus on was each other and the burning desire that was cutting the tension in the room. 

Hesitantly, you pushed Harrison off of you, not missing the soft whine he let out and the slightly hurt expression he wore on his face. It, however, was quickly replaced with a smile when crossed your arms over and pulled your top off slowly. His eyes drank in every part of your torso, thinking how someone like him ever got the chance to score someone like you.

Little did he know, you were thinking the same thing. 

Once your shirt was tossed aimlessly across the room, you swiftly recaptured his lips with yours and carefully guided yourselves to the bed. Harrison followed your lead, walking backwards until his legs hit the frame and he fell on to the mattress. 

Unfazed, you climbed on top of him, like a predator about to pounce on its prey. Your body hovered over his, breathing in sync as you straddled his waist. His hands went to grab your waist again, however they were quickly pushed above his head and into the duvet. Naturally, he didn’t expect anything less, and the dark look in your eyes only excited him further. 

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Hazzy?” You asked, smirking when you felt something twitch against your core. Seriously, who let this man wear these pants?

  The boy beneath you nodded. He knew how this worked. You were always in control, always the top, even when you weren’t. No matter how many times he’s gone down on you, it’s you who always has the authority. He wanted to be good for you, to please you like no one but him could. He wanted more than a summer fling or casual hook-up, he wanted you to be his. Only fitting seeing as, though you may not have realized it, he was already yours. 

The whole reason he asked Tom to help him change his ‘style’ was to get you to take interest in him again. You were always on his mind and he needed to do everything in his power to win you back in his life, even if that meant playing dress up in order to look more appealing. 

Harrison was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling your lips on his neck, hot kisses trailing up and down his throat. The sensation alone was enough to grab the attention of the little guy. 

You smiled slyly as you left marks on his neck, biting and sucking on the spots you knew would gain the most reaction. The blue-eyed boy let out breathy moans beneath you, hands switching from resting on the bed, your waist, your thighs, finally settling on cupping your breasts through your bra. You sat up as he squeezed the material gently, reaching around to unclip the undergarment while Harrison struggled to take the jacket off. 

Harrison heard you chuckle in amusement, blushing lightly as he finally managed to free his arm from the gripping sleeve. He didn’t hesitate to follow up by removing his shirt from the equation, which was much easier considering he was smart for once and put on a loose-fitting tee to give himself some breathing room. 

You stared shamelessly at the now-shirtless man in front of you, and all-be-damned if the greek gods didn’t bless him overnight with that gorgeous build. Holy shit, is the only thing you could think of as your fingers grazed over his torso, fingers tracing every ab and indent. 

Harrison squirmed under you, hips bucking up ever so slightly. He was slowly starting to get desperate and really needed any form of friction, so he took to grabbing your waist and grinding up into you, letting out a small sigh at the relief. 

You gasped quietly at the sudden sensation, instinctively moving your hips in sync so you were moving in unison, the sounds of small moans filling the room. You resumed your previous actions, planting your lips on different areas on the boy’s throat, slowly moving further down to his collarbone, a.k.a the sweet spot.  

Harrison mewled when he felt your teeth graze against the area, nipping and licking some of his most sensitive places. His hips moved faster while the grip on you tightened as he tried to get you to do the same. However, this apparently wasn’t the ideal. 

You grabbed his wrists, pushing them into the mattress above his head. You adored how he willingly let you do this, even though he could easily turn the tables with the amount of muscle the boy packed, he still continued to submit to your needs. “Getting needy, baby boy?” 

He nodded his head quickly, shifting beneath you. “Pants off, now.” 

“Not with that attitude,” you teased, letting go of his hands and moving your own down to his belt.

Harrison rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his clean-shaven face. “Please will you take off my pants before they’re too tight to move in?” 

You grinned, “Atta boy.” 

Hooking your fingers under the waistband, slowly pulling down the piece of clothing, Haz lifting his hips to aid the process. You struggled a bit, whacking yourself in the head with your arm more than once, earning a couple giggles from both parties, before finally getting past the -ahem- obstacle that prevented you from removing the material. 

Harrison audibly sighed in relief, happy to be free from his restraints. 

And to your surprise, his cock slapped against his lower-stomach, red and already leaking from the head. “Going commando, handsome? You dirty boy.” 

The flustered boy could only smile coyly, “In my defence, it was the easiest way to put those bloody things on.” 

“That’s fair,” you replied as you wrapped your hand around the swollen member and stroked it lightly. 

Haz let out a shaky breath, head leaning back as his eyes fell shut. Memories flashed before his eyes. 

Your mouth on his cock, moving your head up and down swiftly while he writhed beneath you. You held eye-contact, mischievous and confidence powering your every move. 

The feeling of your thighs shaking against his shoulders as he ate you out like it was the last meal he’d ever have, small whimpers coming from above while he rubbed his thumb against your clit. 

His hold on your ass as you rode him, kneading the flesh and overall desperate for something to hold on to. Your breasts bouncing in front of his eyes, a hand on his chest while the other gripped his hip. 

The sound of soft drawn out moans filling his ears. The feel of constantly being right on the edge, your walls squeezing him perfectly, his muscles twitching. Both backs arched in unison, a silent cry being released into the air as you both flew into total bliss. 

In real time, his body was reacting to the thoughts, as if he was really experiencing each scenario. Before he knew it, Harrison’s moans grew louder as he approached his climax, he looked down at you and immediately flung his head back into the pillow, the sight of you being too much to handle. 

Your tongue circled his tip, one hand pumping vigorously while the other massaged his balls. His cock twitched against your touch, but before it could reach it’s breaking point you eased up, retracting any stimulation provided and watched in amusement as Haz whined. 

“Oh come on! I was so close…” 

“I know,” You said while sitting up. “You didn’t think I would let you cum so soon, did you?” 

Harrison shook his head slowly, blue eyes dark with lust as he watched you shimmy out of your bottoms. He took in your image, every piece of you being painted in his mind like a beautiful muse. Every stretch mark, every battle scar, your body was like a drug he was addicted to.

You straddled his waist, this time bare skin against bare skin, grinding against him. You moaned every time your clit caught against his tip. Leaning down, your mouth explored every part of his torso, tongue circling his nipples before sliding up and tracing his collarbone, your lips leaving love bites in its wake. The sight of him under you, all marked up was enough to put an end to your own game. Afterall, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were teasing him. 

Harrison, as if sensing what was about to happen next, held your hips and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Th-there’s condoms in my pocket...either my jacket or pants, don’t remember.” 

“Seems to me like you planned this,” You said as you got up and started searching through the discarded clothing. 

The boy blushed, “Well I knew you would be here so... thought might as well take the chance,” he shrugged, subtly eyeing your ass when you bent over to pick up his jacket. 

You hummed in response, smiling when you found the small square packet. You were about to put the leather down, but instead decided to put it on. You shivered a bit when the cold material touched your skin, turning around to see Harrison gaping at your new look. 

“You...look really hot in that.”

You chuckled, climbing back on top and tearing the plastic away with your teeth. “According to you, I look hot in everything.” 

“I’m not wrong though,” He grinned, biting his lip as he felt the latex slide down his cock. It wasn’t always ideal, but better safe than sorry. 

In one swift motion, you connected like two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit. His tip nudging that spot inside you without even trying. You both let out a sigh at the familiar feeling, not moving, just letting the memory of sex on the beachhouse balcony pass through your minds, all the moments of enjoying each others presence in pure bliss. 

Your own bodies betray the wishful thinking of staying in the moment. You clench around him and he moans lightly, and a simple sound like that was all you needed to set off that fire boiling inside your core. 

You raise your hips until only the head of his cock is in and sink back down on his length, setting a passionate yet frantic pace, your heart wanting to feel every second but your brain forcing your body to tend to its pleasurable needs. 

The room feels silent, save for sounds that follow your actions. Neither of you hear the people downstairs, nor can you feel the vibrations of the music blasting through speakers. You only hear each other’s moans, feel each other’s touch. 

It goes by in a blur. At one point his mouth was on your breast, your hand was on his throat, both of you lost in the time spent together. 

After all was done, you both laid in the other’s embrace, his hand playing with your hair while you traced shapes on his naked chest, the warm leather jacket increasing the sense of security you felt around him. 

“You know…” You spoke suddenly, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, “You don’t have to change your clothes just to get me into you.” 

Harrison tensed a little, unsure where this conversation was headed. “Yeah…? I-I guess I just figured since you were into the whole ‘Greaser’ look more...if I was like that then...maybe you’d...uh...go out with me? For real this time.” 

You smiled, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his now-swollen lips. “You div, if you asked months ago you would’ve known I don’t care about what kind of pants you wear. I just want the Harrison I had last summer…” 

The blue-eyed boy smiled back, “Then you have him...you’ve always had him, darling.” 

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Happy Birthday Harrison!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything @halfblood-princess-505 @the-crazy-fanfictionist

Harrison Osterfield: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

-

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.