#swedish tracing paper

[ego-sum-arbor]

I don’t like ordering stuff online, not only because I dislike buying things without seeing and touching them, but also because I get so focused on the location and status of my package that it impedes my functioning. Unfortunately we live in the buy it online era >:[

[singeart]

Okayy we got a Voyager science officer cosplay to make, here(wa)s the plan:

Using an existing pattern I found on etsy, I made adjustments based on vibes reference pictures of Janeway from Night and seeing what other people have made before (shout out to thresholdbb I was Looking at their past cosplays).

Treksona presentation to illustrate the changes I made~

Half the battle was decoding what the vintage pattern instructions were trying to tell me 🤡 but eventually with the help of the internet and my mom on call I figured out each step!

Oh and I had to learn how to iron and how the whole dang sewing machine worked, oiling it, threading the bobbin and needle, I even took apart the foot pedal at one point because I thought it wasn't working lol.

The mockups below, I made one out of Swedish tracing paper and the next one out of cotton (curtains I thrifted) after confirming that it would probably fit:

Turned out pretty good but I decided to move the front seams over just a bit...

Laying out the final pattern:

Cutting out the final pieces was really exciting it was starting to look like something!!

Detail shots below... I didn't feel like I could get the crispness I wanted for the shoulder points with the machine so I did it by hand :')

The shoulder pads were very exciting to put in as well!! I asked the person at JoAnn what the difference was between the two different shoulder pads I had picked up and they said one was more 80s power suit-- that was definitely the one I wanted for this jacket hehe

The final jacket below with a top I found on ebay (also found boots from there)!!! I ended up putting the sleeves in with a machine and ummm there's some puckering I'm trying not to be annoyed about h a h a. I may go back and fix that eventually I don't know... The invisible zipper I got didn't work either so I need to replace that somehow too hrm.

Anyway, I thrifted pants because I didn't want to tackle a whole other piece; I just added fabric to the bottom because they were a smidge short and then cut the iconic vent.

Here's the jacket on me, taken with a weird camera angle so the shoulders are a bit wonky at the edges haha but look!! I lined everything up so well!!

(comm badge and pips from etsy)

I felt ready to go hop on a ship sign me up for first contact I'm ready 🫡

Awright Lessons I Learned:

sewing projects take much much longer than anticipated (I went to stsf and was sewing licherally the night before and morning of. I know it's the convention experience but I was a tad stressed lol)

hand sewing in particular takes forever but I enjoyed it!

people are right to complain about setting in sleeves what da hell was that

flannel (what I used for the black part because it matched the pants the best) was great to work with

linen (the best teal they had in the store) was not!! doesn't iron well, doesn't sew well I don't want to use it ever again <3

this was my first sewing project Ever and I still was pretty hard on myself e h e..........much to think about...

Final words of wisdom from my mom:

Back to the Scully blouse soon!! After a little break :) Thanks for reading!

[viccyfics]

Sinful Pencil strokes

Chapter: 3/?

Words: 1393

Fandom: Ghost (Swedish band)

Summary: Swiss draws phantom and they reveal some secrets about themselves

Rating: mature

Read here or on Ao3

"Comfortable. That can't be hard to find," Phantom thought as he hurried down to Aether's room where the older quintessence ghoul had a large basket of freshly cleaned washing on his bed.

It was mostly filled with Rain's clothing Phantom observed when he crawled onto the bed for a closer look. His clawed hands sifted through the many layers of garments.

Velvet? yuck.

Lace? Rain might yell if he ripped that.

Denim? That felt weird on his fur.

"what about this?" He whispered to himself pulling out one of Swiss' t-shirts, it would be large on the small ghoul but that didn't matter.

Pulling it up to his nose and taking a deep breath, a smile played on his lips. It somehow still carried Swiss' scent, lingering even after a trip through the wash.

The oversized garment draped loosely over him, its fabric a familiar touch against his fur as he pulled it on over his drying body. Aether's room, once quiet, now bore witness to the sound of Phantom's muffled chuckles as he glanced at himself in the mirror.

From the position he was sitting in, he could see what hid between his legs, and up his soft stomach.

He needed some boxers, or maybe some shorts to cover up a little.

Or what if that's what Swiss wanted to see?

He let out another chuckle at the thought but still pulled out a pair of his underwear.

Pulling the boxers up his thin thighs before leaving the mess on Aether's bed behind.

A subtle sense of confidence accompanied each step. The hallway echoed with the rhythmic hum of the shower still running and Mountain's quiet singing.

Reaching the common room, Phantom watched the multi-ghoul for a moment the guitarist engrossed in his phone. The t-shirt draped over Phantom's frame caught Swiss' attention. A smile played on Swiss' lips as he looked up.

"Well, isn't that my shirt?" Swiss quipped, a playful glint in his amber eyes.

"You said comfortable" Phantom giggled watching the Multi-ghoul stand up to his feet, "We might have to do this in my bedroom" Swiss mused stepping closer to the younger ghoul until they were almost touching.

Phantom wished they were.

"Looks better on you anyway," Swiss teased, ruffling Phantom's hair.

"do you want to do this in your room or mine?" Phantom asked leaning into his hand.

"Let's do it in mine and I'll talk you through what to do" Swiss spoke taking Phantom's hand to lead him down the hallway.

"Alright, Phantom, you're about to become my masterpiece," Swiss joked, his amber eyes alight with a playful glint. He motioned for Phantom to take the lead and enter the room so he could choose where he wanted to sit.

Phantom's cheeks flushed with excitement. He shuffled over to the bed suddenly hit with a wave of nervousness.

Feeling the soft fabric beneath him, and met Swiss' gaze with a hint of uncertainty. "I have no idea what to do," Phantom admitted, his voice a soft murmur.

"That's alright Tommy, just lie down and I'll do my thing."

Swiss spoke with a reassuring smile and approached Phantom.

Propped up by a few plush pillows against the headboard, Phantom allowed himself to sink into the softness beneath him. lying on his left side both legs gracefully bent at the knee

His tail curled around his right leg, its movements fluid and almost serpentine. Phantom's arms found a comfortable arrangement, one hand resting under his chin keeping his head in place fingers idly tracing patterns on his soft jaw, while the other rested against the curve of his hip.

"So beautiful" Swiss whispered sitting down on the floor and opening the sketchbook, arranged pencils in front of him which he had sharpened while Phantom dressed.

The sunlight dancing through the window painted subtle highlights and shadows across his body, accentuating the contours that Swiss was so excited to translate onto paper.

Swiss' gaze lingered on Phantom's features, his artistic passion infused with a flirtatious energy. "You should pose like this more often," he whispered, the words carrying a subtle intensity. Phantom, acutely aware of the intimate atmosphere, couldn't help but feel a mixture of vulnerability and arousal.

As the session progressed, Swiss' teasing commentary and the strokes of his pencil ignited a gentle scene between the two ghouls. Phantom, gradually shedding his initial shyness, began to respond to Swiss' cues, allowing the connection between artist and muse to deepen.

"so what is it then?" Phantom asked through half-lidded eyes, "You're constantly surrounded by some of the most gorgeous ghouls in existence but you like me. why?"

"You know, Phantom, your uniqueness is what makes you truly beautiful. Your personality, your essence, the energy you bring to the room. And right now, that energy is captivating," Swiss confessed, his gaze unwavering.

"huh," Phantom muttered he assumed it was because they were pack and that was it, and he had never truly considered himself beautiful.

He was lanky, his purple fur was mixed with patches of white, and one of his eyes was pale and fuzzy which he couldn't see out of, he was covered in scars. cuts, burns, and bites.

Scars he wishes he could live without.

"We all have things we don't like about ourselves" Swiss said looking down at the paper as he talked, "but they tend to be the things others love the most."

"what about you?" Phantom asked trying not to move too much.

"My teeth" Swiss whispered finally glancing back up to the ghoul on his bed.

"I hate my smile, I always have done. I hate how big my teeth are and how human they are, they were terrible to use for hunting in the pit so I tried ripping them out…but they always grew back."

Phantom stared at him in shock "I love your teeth, everyone does!" Swiss nodded tears in his eyes "That's exactly what I mean, this is why our pack is so amazing, we love each other no matter what."

"I love you, Swiss"

"I love you too, Tommy"

The room slowly started to fill back up with silence apart from the sounds of pencil on paper and the occasional rubbing of Swiss' eraser.

"I wasn't joking when I said you should pose like this more often, not even just cause you look hot but it's the look on your face. you look happy and your smile is the first thing you see"

Phantom hadn't even realised he was smiling, but it made sense with all the sweet things Swiss had been saying to him.

"All done" Swiss cheered crawling over to the side of the bed, "Do you want to see?"

"Please!" Phantom gasped he assumed this was going to take hours but it had only been around thirty minutes give or take.

Swiss handed the sketchbook over to the ghoul, both with large smiles on their faces.

"Do you like it?" Swiss asked but Phantom didn't say anything he just stared at the drawing of himself.

"Phantom?"

When he was first summoned Phantom had struggled to even look in the mirror but here he was, sitting up on a bed, one of the most handsome ghouls he had ever seen on his knees to the left of him, and a drawing of himself in his hands.

He was loved here.

"I love it" he whispered feeling tears start to spill down his cheeks, "I love it so much"

Phantom gently placed the sketchbook down next to him before throwing his arms over the Multi-ghoul's shoulders and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

"Feeling pretty love bug?" Swiss joked receiving a chuckle and nod from the ghoul on top of him, "You know, if you really want to feel pretty I can help you out a bit."

"How would you do that?" Phantom asked climbing off of the other and lying down next to him, "Well I know how I look the prettiest so maybe if I show you, you'll be the prettiest too"

Phantom raised an eyebrow "When do you look your prettiest?" he asked confused about where this was going when the Multi-ghoul started caressing his side and trailing his hands towards the base of his tail.

"When my head is between someone's legs, and I'm sure you'd look amazing with my head down there."

[overelegantstranger]

my notes on creating with a disability, sewing edition:

Problem: Cutting out is hugely overstimulating.

Solutions: Cut on good brainfog days; try not to get a garment out of scraps or awkward lengths; use patterns printed on thicker or more substantial paper, not tissue or swedish tracing paper. On cutting days, cutting is the only task. Handle it early, and then do low sensory tasks

[kimmariesembroidery]

So for all you embroidery crafting enthusiasts I have some grids you might be interested in.  The first is something I’ve made up myself.  It is based on the Dickson Temperature Recorder Charts used in Weather Forecasting.  What I was going for is a circle with a slight slant.  So basically I will try to create geometric designs using this grid and then trace the results with tracing paper to be used on fabric to stitch.  I have no idea if it will work or not, but I think it’s a neat idea and I’m going to give it a try.  They are not precision spaced as I’m not that great at drawing.  But hopefully you at least get the general idea.

The second grid is just a standard Swedish Huck embroidery grid.  All the examples I see of it are so tiny that I would need a telescope to see it.  So for us - ah-hem - older girls who have need of spectacles, this one’s for you. :) 

[lampmanliveblogs]

The Lampman's Conspiracy Corner

Lamp Entertainment presents...

The new and improved Conspiracy Corner! It is bigger! It’s better! It has red string!

(note for any newcomers: I'm currently doing a mostly blind watchthrough of The Owl House. The last episode I've seen was Reaching Out. No spoilers please)

Isn’t it beautiful? This legitimately took me hours to set up.

Here’s a closer look at the Timeline. I’m very happy with how it turned out, I especially like the detail of the clock. It’s five to twelve, because the Day of Unity is soon upon us!

So, as I discovered in my last liveblog, the series doesn’t actually take place in 2020, but I had already written all of this. So I just hung up that thing as nod to that.

The thing that this timeline does a really good job of establishing is that Philip really went for hundreds of years seemingly doing nothing. What was he up to during all that time?

Here’s a closer look at the Wittebanes page. It has a simple family tree, as well as some info on the known members. I had the great idea to make some of the spots modular, so if/when new information is revealed, I can remove them and fill it in for real. You’ll also notice that string connected to the paper beneath…

(don’t ask why or where I got the british airways paper from because I’ve no idea)

Here is all the information on the Grimwalker that I’ve gathered. Which isn’t all that much. The only thing about the sad pedestrian that I’ve brought up before that isn’t mentioned here is that there is an emphasis in Philip/Belos’ notes on its eyes. That’s because I can’t draw eyes.

That blue thing is a periodic table. It’s the very one I got in high school chemistry, finally getting put to use. Oh stars, there is an actual interview where I said I might go into chemistry after I graduated… haha! Year 2 of high school Lampman was a very different person.

So, yeah. In Eclipse Lake, I brought up a certain possibility, but dismissed it almost immediately. Then, in Any Sport In A Storm, I brought it up as a joke.

The thing I’m talking about is the possibility that Hunter is the Grimwalker. That would explain how, you know… he exists despite the fact that his father died hundreds of years ago.

If you look on the left, I listed a few possible inspirations or things that were brought to my mind when thinking about what this Grimwalker might be.

First on the list is a Homunculus. It’s real term that was used in alchemy and means ”little person.” Maybe the most famous example in popular fiction though is from Fullmetal Alchemist.  Dana Terrace has referenced Fullmetal Alchemist when talking about The Owl house before (Luz is a fan of Hiromu Arakawa and used to trace her manga; hence why she’s so good at drawing glyphs). So that is a possible inspiration. And I recall reading a post once that compared Belos to Father from FMA. And, well… if Hunter is the Grimwalker, then in some way, that would make Belos…

The second on the list is something I stumbled upon when researching the third item on the list. Bakru. According to one of  my books on mythological/folklore creatures and monster, bakru are unruly children created from wood by witches and wizards. They require powerful magic to control and are often sold to ordinary people.

The third item on my list are a few creatures from Swedish folklore. Because of course I have to reference that. There are a few stories about witches creating helpers like milk hares. They were often created from wood, fabric and other items. Some of them require things like dirt from churchyards, a blood sacrifice (three drops of blood from your left pinkie) and a magic spell. These creatures were used by the witches to steal from their neighbors, usually milk from cows. Hence, milk hare.

And while I have your attention; did you know that the ”mare” in ”nightmare” comes from another creature from swedish folklore? The mara. Maras are at day regular women. Exactly how they become maras is not known. Some say it’s a curse, others say it’s because their mother used dark magic to lessen the pain of childbirth (if the child is born a boy, he becomes a werewolf). At night, maras turn into an oily mist. They can slip through any crack, so you can’t lock them out. They will sit on your chest while you sleep and cause bad dreams and difficulty breathing. To protect yourself, spread flaxseeds around your bed; the mara will have to count them before it can do anything to you.

N-no, please don’t leave! I’ll move on, I swear! No more nordic mythology or folklore!

Here are some miscellaneous things. A note on the portal door, the Titan, The Collector. I put a star on The Collector’s note because he’s associated with stars and moons (and I couldn’t draw a good crescent moon)!

Okay, so I lied before. On the note about the Titan, I bring up a figure from nordic mythology. That being Ymer (or Ymir). It’s a primordial giant from which the world was made. I belive I mentioned that connection in a season one liveblog… I think it was Adventures in the Elements? I could be wrong, and I’m too lazy to go check.

I also drew the glyphs! And the spells Luz has learned so far! They’re not very good, but hey. I tried.

Funny story: I like to doodle the glyphs on random pieces of cardboard occasionally. I ended up showing a coworker a light glyph I drew. She told me it looked like a failed christmas tree. I have not been the same since.

Oh, and I also listed the elemental symbols from the Engelsfors Trilogy. Because I felt like it.

So, this was the new conspiracy corner. I had a ton of fun making it and I hope to bring it back again.

[soonparisblog]

The Christmas Tree Tradition: Understanding Its Role in Different Cultures

The tradition of festooning a tree during the festive season is embraced the world over. From the shimmering star at the pinnacle, to the anguished lighting attempt to the eclectic medley of ornaments, the Christmas tree is a beacon of celebration and cheer. But while the tradition has its core, universal elements, it's fascinating to see how the significance of Christmas tree takes on different significances and praxes across world cultures.

Germany: The Birthplace

Germany is often cited as the birthplace of the Christmas tree tradition. The first documented use of a tree at Christmas can be traced to the 16th-century German states, where devout Christians decorated “Paradise Trees” with apples. Martin Luther, the Protestant reformer, is also said to have added lighted candles to a tree after being inspired by a starry Christmas Eve sky.

Today, German Christmas trees (or 'Tannenbaums') are traditionally put up and decorated on Christmas Eve, although some families opt to put up the tree during Advent.

USA: A Melting pot of Traditions

In the USA, where individuals from a multitude of cultural backgrounds coexist, the Christmas tree tradition is a blend of new and old customs. The White House, for instance, has a tradition of elaborate tree decoration, with a new theme chosen annually. American trees are often laden with popcorn strings, candy canes, tinsel, and an assortment of ornaments. Many families have a tradition of adding a new ornament each year, symbolizing important milestones.

Mexico: The Floral Paradise

In Mexico, Christmas trees stand beside the 'Nacimiento' (nativity scene), which is considered more central to their Christmas traditions. However, the Christmas tree tradition has found its way into mainstream Mexican celebrations. Mexican Christmas trees are unique with colorful decorations often made from metal and paper, with traditional decors like flowers and lighted star lanterns.

Nordic Countries: A Symbol of Light

In Nordic countries like Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, the Christmas tree is a symbol of light and hope in the darkest part of the year. The trees, usually spruces, are often decorated outside and are adorned with Swedish flags, small gnomes, glass ornaments, and straw decorations, reflecting a deep-rooted connection with nature.

Australia: A Twist in the Traditional

Down Under, Christmas falls in the middle of summer. Many Australians opt for artificial trees to avoid the fire risk of a dried-out real tree. Australian Christmas trees are often decorated in a summery theme, with hand-crafted Aussie ornaments like kangaroos, koalas, beach-themed decors, and even barbecues!

Japan: A confluence of Cultures

Christianity isn't a prominent religion in Japan, but the Christmas tree tradition has been adopted as part of a secular celebration of the season. Japanese Christmas trees often reflect a confluence of Western and Japanese cultures—often adorned with origami swans, paper fans, and kimonos-themed ornaments, alongside the traditional lights and tinsel.

In conclusion, while the Christmas tree's origin can be pinpointed to a specific geographical location, its essence has transcended borders and cultures. It has been adapted to the customs and values of each place, reflecting an amalgamation of tradition, history, and local flavor. The Christmas tree stands not just as a universal symbol of the season's joy, but also as a testament to the beauty of diversity and cultural exchange.

[bluedalahorse]

For those of you who are in YR fandom and of Swedish descent but not born in Sweden, have any of you been able to look up your Swedish ancestors?

One of my friends let me use her genealogy software and look up my Swedish family. We can trace the records back a bit of a ways, and it’s pretty much a string of working class folks with patronymics. My great-grandmother (who I was almost named after) was apparently a domestic servant in Göteborg, I think in a kitchen because my dad also has told me she was a cook, so I imagine her rolling her eyes at the ancestors of entitled Hillerska kids while she makes them breakfast early in the morning.

One of the other cool things I’ve looked at in the past are my great-grandfather’s papers from his compulsory military service back in… the 1890s? The 1900s? Roughly the time period where Astrid Lindgren’s Emil books are set (which is funny to me because my great-grandfather went by Emil, his second name.) Anyway we have some of the maps he made during his time in the army, and he has his highest marks in mapmaking. I felt a sort of kinship knowing that, even though he died way before I was born, because as a child I was extremely interested in looking at atlases and would sometimes draw maps of my own. It’s funny how these things show up over the generations, isn’t it? Anyway I’m pretty sure he mostly painted houses for a living while my great-grandmother continued to work as a cook, whether that was in someone else’s house or her own.

I also know that the dedication to music comes from that side of the family, and it was passed down to my grandfather to my father. I would not be surprised if any of those in my long string of patronymics played the fiddle or sang in their local choirs.

I know not everyone can even trace their family records, so I feel lucky that I’ve been able to do it at all. (There’s privilege that comes with being able to do genealogy, especially when you live in the US, so I wanna acknowledge that.) At some point I hope to look up more. I also know there are second and third cousins in Sweden still, but my dad’s known second cousin is almost eighty so it might make more sense for me to get to know her children and grandchildren.

[mariska]

gonna see if i can have any success using this super cute sunflower fabric i got from a really nice woman's yard sale a few days ago for a vintage outfit pattern from 1969 (its a little bolero vest and a matching mini skirt!! super cute if i can pull off making it, it seems pretty simple so im confident 😤)

[hobivore]

FNISS

fniss, noun; giggle

↠ PAIRING: KSJ x reader (m)

↠ WORDS: 1.3K

↠ GENRE: smöt smut

↠ RATING: explicit (18+)

↠ SYNOPSIS: You and Jin go to IKEA. Chaos ensues.

↠ WARNINGS: pwp, terrible puns, semi-public sex, oral sex

↠ A/N: This one’s written for the wonderful @hesperantha​ whom I drew in our possumversary fic exchange. Max, thank you for being my friend and an all-around awesome person and talented writer. This one’s for you, I hope you’ll like it! & many thanks to the equally wonderful @wwilloww​ for beta reading this piece.

P.S. yes, fniss means giggle in Swedish, and yes, it’s also the name of a trash can at IKEA. Enjoy!

© madseok Do not repost, translate or use my stories without my permission.

“Seokjin Kim, I will not hesitate to kill you—”

Jin sighs, melodramatic. “Now you’re the one regretting our relationship? All I wanted was one nightstand.”

You squint at him, following his gaze resting on the small HEMNES cabinet in front of you, before rolling your eyes so hard you’re worried they might fall out of their sockets. “Just—argh,” you throw your hands up, defeated. The sound of his wheezing fills the showroom. “It’s too early for this shit.”

“It’s never too early for Swedish meatballs!” Jin beams. “Or do you prefer Korean b—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” you huff, quickening your pace as you push the cart into an area filled with meticulously designed kitchens neatly slotted into little cubicles. Thin walls separate them, the variety of wallpaper alone almost overwhelming. Minimalistic Scandinavian design, clean and white; rustic, earthy green tones; dark wood to match the cabinets and large ceiling lights. 

“Wait!” Jin jogs after you, catching up with long strides, and you turn around. “Don’t be so in—” he holds up a wok, TOLERANT written in bold uppercase on the label, the pan already shaking with his barely contained laughter. 

You rub a hand down your face. It’s 10:34 a.m. and you’ve been stuck in this maze formally referred to as IKEA for nearly twenty minutes now. Twenty slow, torturous minutes filled with bad puns and the unfortunate butchering of the Swedish language. 

It doesn’t help that you snoozed a few times too many this morning, skipped breakfast, and had to drive through traffic with a way too upbeat and basically vibrating Jin in the passenger seat. 

It’s always those fucking early birds.

For what it’s worth, this early on a Tuesday there’s almost no one in the building to witness your sulking. And Jin, always attentive, had grabbed you a coffee while you were getting a cart. It’d tasted like ass—not the good kind—and paper, but you’d figured you needed every milligram of caffeine you could get if you were to survive the next hour. Or, worst case scenario: next couple hours. 

Normally you would go to IKEA on your own and head straight for whatever items you need while ignoring the rest, load them into your car and leave. But you can’t lift three wardrobes by yourself, so you’d asked Jin to tag along. Something you’re starting to regret more and more since he’d insisted on walking the full route instead of skipping the showrooms. 

“Okay, fine. No more puns.” Jin puts the wok back on the rack. “Do you want to hear an IKEA joke instead?” 

You sigh, knowing resistance is futile, your answer more for show than anything of substance. “What makes you think I want to hear an IKEA joke? No. I don’t.”

“You’re right.” He grins, bright, as he continues: “Because you’ll have to make it yourself.” 

“Jin, please,” you groan, while suppressing a smile at his infectious laughter. You can’t give in or else you’ll be stuck in here until next week. “Focus. Three wardrobes. In and out. That’s it.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you in and kisses your temple. “The wardrobes. No fun.” He traces down your face before his soft lips settle along your jaw. You shiver as his hands come to rest on your lower back, fingers slipping underneath your hoodie, heated against your bare skin. 

“Exactly. IKEA isn’t fun. Sleeping is fun. Eating is fun. Sex is fun—”

You cut yourself off as he pulls back all of a sudden, expression quickly changing when the proverbial light bulb turns on inside his head. “No—” you hastily add, floundering, but this time he’s faster. 

“We can make IKEA fun,” he interrupts, face inches from yours, eyes focused on your lips. You’re suddenly too aware of his chest pressed against your own and the way his hands rub small circles into your hips, his thumbs dipping below the waistband of your jeans. 

He’s close enough for your noses to touch now, and you tilt your head, anticipation forming a tight knot in your chest—

You let out a surprised yelp when he grabs your hand and whirls you behind a kitchen island in one of the small decor kitchens. “Good sir,” he sinks to his knees, looking up at you. “May I offer you a blöwjöb?” 

“Jin—” you hiss, both a warning and a plea, watching as his fingers find their way to your belt buckle, coming to rest there, waiting for your permission.  

You glance around the tiny cubicle: the unfamiliar yet familiar furniture, the empty showroom to your right, Jin’s kneeling figure hidden behind the kitchen island. He looks so soft and cosy in his woollen oversized sweater that you have half a mind to kiss him—previous responsibilities and inhibitions long forgotten and replaced by a burning need to hold him close. The promise of what his smart mouth can do is the only thing stopping you from hoisting him up and bending him over the kitchen counter. 

“Jesus—fuck, okay. You’re insane.”

He has the audacity to wink at you before making quick work of your belt and taking your already hardening cock into his mouth, the plush of his lips soft against your skin. 

You kick your head back and swallow a moan, a hand coming up to steady yourself against the kitchen island. Through heavy-lidded eyes you watch him, brushing his hair—it’s getting longer again, you notice absentmindedly—out of his eyes with your other hand. 

He’s showing off now, a slow drag of his tongue along your shaft, explicit, purely for his own twisted entertainment—small kitten-licks at the sensitive head, savouring the precum with closed eyes, until your hand tightens into his hair, your hips bucking of their own volition. “Ah—shit, sorry, can I move?”

“Hmm,” he hums, “be quick. In and out. That’s it.” He winks again. “You know I won’t vomit on your dick.” 

You snort, a hand traversing down his jaw, feeling it slacken as he takes you deeper, drooling. It’s wet, it’s messy, and it’s entirely too loud for the place you’re in. It only serves to fuel your arousal, desperate to be faster; harsh snaps of your hips, chasing your high before anyone can catch you in the act. 

It’s clumsy, overeager, your cock slipping out of his mouth a few times at a particularly unrestrained thrust, hitting him on the cheek. The soft sound of his giggles nestles itself in the space behind your breastbone, filling it with a warmth that radiates outwards until it infuses your entire body. 

“You’re so good for me, baby, fuck—” your hand is loosely wrapped around his throat now, feeling the outline of your cock pressing into your palm, your head spinning as he swallows around you. The movement of his arm catches your eye and you follow it down to where he’s palming himself over his jeans, his hand splayed over his straining bulge. 

“Are you touching yourself?” you ask. He acknowledges your words by sliding his other hand to the back of your thigh, urging you on. You have to close your eyes for a moment, the image of him on his knees, greedy like this, all for you, becoming too overwhelming. 

“Do you wish it was me touching you instead? Slip my hand into your pants, make you come all over my face, make you lick it off—”

He finally moans at that, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine, balls tightening as your cock grows impossibly harder. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back your own choked-off whimpers, desperation clear in every jittery stutter of your hips. 

When you come it’s with a soft sob, the syllable of his name rolling around your mouth as you spill down his throat and he swallows every drop. 

Jin rises to his feet, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Three wardrobes, no puns, I get to fuck you when we’re home. Deal?”

“Shut up, you idiot.” You plant a kiss on his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as you linger there for a moment before leaning back and pointing at the storage cabinet against the wall. “You’re the BESTÅ.” You kiss him again. “And yes, you can fuck me. Let’s go.” 

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging and leaving a comment or an ask. Your feedback means the world to me and keeps me going!

↠ Masterlist

[lifeofkaze]

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

 *

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.  

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

*

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that  had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

  Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

[ssa-pretty-boy]

Fika

Fika: (Swedish origin) a moment to slow down and appreciate the good things in life

Summary: When Spencer Reid works a rough case there’s only two people in the whole world that can make him feel better.

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: brief mention of case details (the usually criminal minds type stuff), implied death of a child (not Spencer and reader’s), other than that its fluffy 

——

The case had been brutal, a grueling two weeks only made worse by the scorching heat of the Arizona sun. To be fair, all cases involving children weighed heavily on the team’s shoulders and hearts. But when presented with a mop of curls and pair of big brown eyes so breathtakingly similar to the ones he held so dear to his heart, it was safe to say Spencer Reid was unraveling at the seams. When he closed his eyes all he could see was that little girl’s face. All he could hear was her mother’s sobbing, a heartbreaking wail that rattled through his very soul, as J.J. delivered the horrendous news that they had been too late. They had caught the sick bastard and he would never see the light of day again but that didn’t erase the fact that their baby wasn’t coming home. 

Later that night they had stumbled on to the jet, all bleary eyes and bruised bodies. ‘Exhausted’ didn’t even begin to cover they way they all felt. Rossi and Emily were asleep before take off and Morgan was nearly there ten minutes into the flight. Hotch was quietly doing paper work specifically to avoid sleep and the horrible dreams he knew this case was going to bring him. J.J. was FaceTiming Will and their boys, assuring them she would be home soon with new a baseball cap for each of them. 

All the while Spencer didn’t know what to do with himself. He tried to read first but when the words of his favorite book failed to bring him any solace he tried to sleep. When he proved too fitful and the leather seat too stiff, he decided to try watching a film on his iPad. After a solid twenty minutes of not even hearing what the actors were saying he gave up on the film too, shucking his headphones off and stuffing them back into his satchel. Knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the board and it’s pieces, he didn’t even bother pulling the tiny chess board out of his bag. With a defeated groan he leaned his head against the seat and tried to go to sleep for the second time. Just as the cool tendrils of unconsciousness started weaving around him, he felt more than heard someone settle into the seat next to him.

“How are you holding up?” J.J.’s voice was soft and tender, a tone she probably used to sooth Henry and Micheal when they were upset. Normally the motherly tone would grate on Spencer’s nerves but truth be told, at the moment he welcomed its comforting cadence. She watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in this throat and he was quiet long enough that she thought he was attempting to ignore her. After a few heartbeats, his eyes opened and his head lulled to the side so that he could look at her. 

“They just looked so much alike J.J.,” similar to her own, his words were quiet but his voice wavered and cracked like all the grief and anxiety from the past two weeks were just now starting to bubble to the surface. J.J. attempted, and failed, to keep her face poised and collected. They all noticed the uncanny resemblance between Julia Hodges and Amelia Reid almost as quickly as Spencer did himself. He had managed to keep a calm front for the sake of the parents but he felt like there was something burrowing in his chest and attempting to rip him apart. He just simply could not stop imagining his family in place of their’s.

“There was this one case we worked a few years ago in Milwaukee,” she paused, trying to collect her racing thoughts before continuing, “It was a trafficking ring that we stumbled on. We thought it was just a kidnapping until we got there. The little boy looked so much like Henry; they even sounded the same.”

“I remember him,” Spencer’s voice was still a quiet rasp, “His name was Oliver Moore and he was five years old. Like Henry.”

His friend nodded slowly, her focus had turned to the table in front of them, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns onto its wooden surface. Even with that case being far behind them, it had been almost ten years ago now she realized, she still had nightmares about it. Unlike Julia Hodges though, they had gotten to Oliver Moore just in the nick of time it had seemed. But the conditions they had found him in... J.J. didn’t even know how to put it into words. 

She nodded her head, blonde hair sliding over her shoulders and shrouding her face. “I kept in touch with his mother for a while. I just couldn’t let it go. How much he reminded me of Henry, I mean. I still have nightmares sometimes that it was Henry in his place.” Brushing her hair back behind her ears, she turned her attention back to Spencer then with eyes glassy but a small smile on her lips. “There are just some cases that you can’t shake. They feel sticky and slimy and even though we catch the bad guys and sometimes we’re able to save the people they were trying to hurt, it still feels like there’s this stain on your heart. And after a while its like all you can see in the world is the darkness and death. You just need to go home and hold her, Spencer. Love on her and kiss her and hug her. It will remind you that there are still good things in life, that there is still some innocence out there.” 

He tried to smile but he knew it looked more like a grimace twisted on his face. J.J. gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze before standing and going back to her original seat beside Derek. This time when Spencer tried to fall asleep he succeeded. 

——

Six hours and forty seven minutes later, he was pulling into his driveway with the nagging thought that sometimes he hated his job. He loathed having to be away this long. Truly, he really did. It made him feel like he never saw his family anymore, like he was missing all the important milestones in his daughter’s life. Like her fourth birthday party for example. There were still some balloons tied the the mailbox at the end of the drive and what looked like confetti and streamers all over the porch. He had called that morning to wish her a happy birthday and assured her he was going to bring a special surprise home for her but it did nothing to combat the guilt eating at his stomach for not actually being there.  

He tugged a hand through his already unruly hair and let out a deep sigh as he climbed out of the car. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door and walked inside the dark house, quick to disarm the alarm as to not wake his sleeping wife and daughter with its insistent beeping. With a somewhat renewed energy at the thought of seeing his favorite girls, he bounded up the stairs two at a time, carefully minding the extra creaky ones, then padding down the hall to his daughter’s bedroom. Eternally grateful for the well oiled hinges of the door, Spencer pushed on the white wood and Amelia’s bedroom door swung open silently. The covers were rumpled and pushed back but there was no curly headed little girl amongst them. For a harrowing second, Spencer felt his heart seize in his chest, his grip on the doorknob turning his knuckles bone white. But then he saw her slumped into her beanbag chair beside the tall white bookshelf, her favorite book opened on her lap. He couldn’t help the smile that split his face as he entered the room and scooped her up into his arms, the book falling to the carpeted floor with a soft ‘thud’. 

He hugged her tightly to his chest, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. When everyone found out that Y/N was pregnant, the other parents on his team had told him that there was nothing compared to the love he would feel for his child. Spencer never doubted that he would love his children, not even for a fraction of a second. But what he felt on the day Amelia was born, and every day after, was like nothing he had ever experienced before. A tiny hand came up to rest on his cheek, pulling him away from this thoughts, and he turned his head to find a pair of sleepy brown eyes looking up at him. “Missed you daddy,” she yawned, her eyes already fluttering shut again. 

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and whispered against her hair, “I missed you too angel. So much.” She smelt like her mother’s shampoo he noted with a smile. He carried her back to her bed and tucked her in the way she liked before placing another kiss on her forehead. 

Just down the hall his own bedroom door was already opened, a soft yellow light spilling out into the hallway. Y/N must have waited up for him. Or tried to he realized with a small laugh as he saw her sitting almost exactly like their daughter had been just moments ago. With a book splayed open in her lap and her reading glasses slipping down her nose as her head lulled to the side, she was slumped against the headboard fast asleep. Spencer sat down at the foot of their bed and took his shoes off, tossing them in the general direction of their shared closet. Deciding to forego showering and brushing his teeth, he dressed for bed quickly and moved to turn off Y/N’s bedside lamp. Careful to note what page she was on, he slipped the book from her hands and moved it to the nightstand before reaching for her glasses. 

She stirred then at the feeling of his hands near her face, she jumped slightly as her eyes slowly blinked open and a drowsy grin pulling at her lips when she realized it was him. “You’re home,” she rasped, her voice raw from sleep and the day of wrangling a house full of four year olds. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her mouth. “I’m home,” he repeated with a smile, feeling the weight of anxiety slowly start ease from his chest. “How was the ballerina dinosaur party?” He didn’t even try to ask that with a straight face, every time he even thought ‘ballerina dinosaur party’ he practically erupted into a fit of giggles. But his daughter had gotten her stubbornness honestly and was determined that was to be the theme of her birthday party.

——

“Mia, have you thought about what kind of birthday party you would like to have?” He asked her as he flipped her pancakes on the hot griddle. When he didn’t get a response, he turned to look her to see she was staring rather intensely at the stack of coloring books in front of her on the kitchen table. She mumbled something then shook her head, curls bouncing at her shoulders and her little eyebrows drawing together in what her mother called her ‘baby genius face’. Spencer couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, “What are you thinking so hard about, baby?”

Amelia turned that precious little pout towards him then. “Don’t laugh at me, daddy. S’not nice.”

Spencer clamped his mouth shut, having to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing again. Y/N strolled into the kitchen then with a brush, some hair ties and a spray bottle in her hands. “Yeah, daddy. S’not nice,” she echoed, turning to stick her tongue out at at Spencer before she set to work pulling Amelia’s hair into two little buns on the top of her head.

“Thank you, mama,” Mia said, flashing her mother a toothy grin. 

“You’re welcome, sweet girl.” Y/N squished Mia’s cheeks and kissed her nose, earning a sweet peel of laughter. Spencer smiled at his girls as he plated the last of the pancakes and covered them in syrup. Y/N gaped at the plate when he set it in front of their daughter. Amelia, the resident sugar addict, on the other hand was practically drooling over it. “You,” she said, poking Spencer’s chest with her pointer finger, “are handling the sugar rush that’s going to give her.”

Spencer gave her a bashful smile and raised his hands in front of him, “You know all she has to do is look at me and I give her anything she wants. She could have asked for ice cream and I probably would have agreed. So really its your fault for asking me to make breakfast.”

With a playful slap to his chest she pushed past him to grab the other two plates sitting on the counter behind him. “For the love of god, Spencer Reid please do not give our daughter ice cream for breakfast. Ever.”

He laughed as he sat down in his designated seat across from his wife, and dug into his own stack of pancakes. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Amelia gasped, her fork clanging against her plate as she dropped it into the sticky sweet syrup. She was practically bouncing in her seat as she looked at her parents with wide, excited eyes. “I know what kind of birthday I wanna have!”

Clearly amused, Spencer set his own fork down and smiled at his mini me. “And what have you come up with, Mia?”

Her smile widened as she looked between her mother and father. “A ballerina dinosaur party!” The pure glee and excitement was practically radiating from her as she started clapping her sticky hands together, thrilled to no end with her clever solution to the ballerina versus dinosaur party dilemma. 

“Well then, daddy and I will make that happen for you.” Y/N laughed and extended her hand out for Amelia to high five, she was clearly just as excited. Amelia slapped her mother’s hand before jumping out of her chair and running excitedly into her play room. Seconds later she came back into the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “May I be excused, please?” 

Immensely proud that the manners they were drilling into her were clearly sticking, Y/N beamed at Amelia before throwing her a wink. “Nice manners, sister! And yes you may. Go wash your hands before you play though.”

Amelia was racing off again then, calling out a muffled “thank you for breakfast!” as she washed her hands. Spencer was silent while Y/N stacked their plates and carried them to the sink. “What’s going on in that head of your’s, doc?”

“Ballerina dinosaurs-” was all he could say before Y/N cut him off.

“Are you really about to go tell that excited little girl that she can’t have a ballerina dinosaur birthday party for some scientific reason you’re about to pull out of your ass?” Knowing damn well that he wasn’t going to tell that sweet little face ‘no’ for anything in the world, she was smirking and leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

Sliding down in his chair, he crossed his own arms and huffed out ‘no’. Y/N laughed and came around the table to sit in his lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist and her’s going around his neck. 

“How did she come up with that?” he wondered aloud. She might have only been three but they could already tell that she was following in her father’s footsteps, well on her way to becoming a child protege much like he was. But every ounce of her creativity came from her mother.

 ——

That earned him a soft laugh and a even softer, “It was really fun. We missed you though.” She took his hand in her’s and brought it up to press kisses against his knuckles. “How bad was it, Spence?”

He had spared her most of the nitty gritty details but for the most part she knew what happened. Talking it out with a third party frequently helped him, so her lending a listening ear wasn’t anything new to their relationship. The smile instantly dropped from his face and his shoulders sagged again. “Bad. Really bad,” he whispered as he stood and made his way around to his side of the bed. Y/N settled down into the covers and held her arms open to him. Spencer all but dove into her, burying his head into the crook of her neck and wrapping his arms around her as best he could given the way there were laying. They were quiet for a moment, the only sounds were the white noise maker that could just barely be heard from Amelia’s room and Spencer’s sniffles. Soft lips pressed a kiss to his temple and her hands started running through his hair, making sure to scratch his scalp the way she knew he found soothing. “Do you want to tell me about it, baby?” 

He tensed in her arms but relaxed again after a heartbeat, breathing deeply against her neck. It poured out of him in a rush, in all the nasty detail he’d spared her from over the phone. Y/N’s breath hitched and her arms tightened around him when he told her how much Amelia resembled Julia Hodges, and she was immensely grateful he hadn’t told her about that part until now. “I just,” he started again after a long pause, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and Mia.”

“Oh, Spence,” she cooed, trying desperately not to let her voice crack. “We’re okay, baby. We’re okay.”

“Can we throw her another birthday party? Just something small with the team maybe? I really hate that I missed it,” his voice was small, almost as if he was afraid she’d say no.

“Of course we can,” she laughed softly, “I’ll call everyone tomorrow and set something up.”

He smiled and lifted his head to press a sweet kiss to her mouth. A sweet kiss that quickly melted into something more as he settled between her thighs and his hands slowly slipped under the sweatshirt she was wearing. The pair were so caught up in each other that they failed to hear the soft patter of tiny feet running down the hall. The door slowly creaked open and a tiny little girl appeared, her pajamas rumpled and eyes wide. They jerked apart as Amelia called out to them. “Mama? Daddy?”

Y/N was shoving Spencer’s hands away, trying not to laugh as his fingers ghosted against her sides. “What’s wrong baby?”

“I had a bad dream,” she mumbled softly, looking down at her bare feet. “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Spencer smiled at her as he patted the space between him and his wife. Quick little feet made a mad dash for the bed and she pulled herself up with a quiet ‘umph’. Amelia burrowed under the covers, snuggled comfortably between her two favorite people in the whole world. Y/N wrapped Amelia up in her arms and Spencer turned toward them and threw his arm over them, his hand a comforting weight on his wife’s hip. Just as sleep had started to claim him, he felt Amelia start to squirm.

“Daddy?” she whispered softly into the dark room.

“Yes princess?” His voice already turning gravelly, his tired eyes opening to see his wife smiling at him over the top of Mia’s head. Both of them already knew what she wanted before she even voiced her request. And she sounded so hopeful that he didn’t dare deny her when she asked softly, “Will you tell me a story?”

He smiled and pulled his girls closer to him. “A long time ago,” Spencer started, his voice soft, “there was a dinosaur who loved to dance…”

[mccall-me-maurice]

A new list of headcanons for the updated AU

Lotf headcanons

Jack:

Jack is Ralph’s academic rival and also head of the debate team. He spends the weekends at his father’s business, learning how to run the company. On the Saturday nights, he goes to an underground club in a fight ring thing. Nobody knows he does it, even though Ralph also spends time there.

Jack is dyslexic and has minor and manageable OCD, denying using extra help for his dyslexia in classes.

Comes from a wealthy family with 6 siblings, his father divorcing his mother and marrying his step-mother who he pushes away because he’s angsty and shes “not his real mother.”

Loves 80s music so much, he’s a nerd for it.

Sings in the shower/bathroom like into a hairbrush in front of the mirror in his little towel like a nerd but he’s actually really good at singing.

Wears his uniform extremely sharply and very crisp like why so much effort.

He has hearing loss due to an accident in his childhood and he’s fluent in ASL, but doesn’t wear his hearing aids almost ever.

Ralph:

Ralph is fluent in violin, he’s actually really good at playing, he was also an ocean lifeguard and saved Jack’s life when he got caught in a current.

He wears thick framed glasses to read and has really swoopy handwriting thats illegible because it’s like messy calligraphy.

Ralph dives as a hobby and is so good at it, like scary good at diving perfectly.

He has beauty marks on his face that he lets people trace sometimes, ink usually adorning his cheeks.

Very French, extremely French. Fluent in the language.

Draws on his hands with different coloured pens and the designs are always so intricate like a mandala colouring book.

Also draws on the cuffs of his jeans and the rubber edge of his sneakers all the time.

Blushes very easily, will go red in a matter of seconds flat either when he’s flustered, embarrassed or angry.

Brothers with Robert.

Simon:

Spends all of his out of school time in his mother’s flower shop and can recite the meaning of most flowers if you ask him. His fingers are all bandaged up because of how much he cuts himself with knives when he’s removing stems or clippers.

He has epilepsy and faints frequently.

Is a fan of older musicals, like Grease, Dirty Dancing and Hairspray and makes the choir watch them with him.

Rarely spends time indoors, Simon is usually out biking around the neighbourhood or walking around with his friends from school.

Will paint rocks and gift them to people when he thinks they’re upset. Also does face painting at the school carnivals, because he never minds being alone in a booth when there is nobody there.

Speaks softly and is usually ignored in favour of people with louder opinions, but he’s usually right.

Roger:

His biological family died in a house accident, the only thing surviving being him and his cat Nastya, who he loves more than anything. Because of his parents death, he taught himself the rest of the Russian language, which they were already teaching him along with English. However, his heritage is East Asian and Russian.

He pierced his lip by himself, and even though it turned out fine, he got his ears done professionally.

Not very affectionate and will push people away, distancing himself because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being close to him and get under his skin.

Dyed the back part of his hair on a whim and just liked it enough to keep it as a style.

Spends nights at Simon’s place instead of his own, finding more comfort in Simon’s house.

Sam:

Comes from a German family, but knows German, Italian and English.

He hates birthdays because he doesn’t understand why they are so important.

Hates social interactions and actively avoids them with a passion. He gets extremely nervous and just leaves abruptly when he gets too overwhelmed.

Younger than Eric by 6 minutes, which he routinely gets teased for.

Into super cheesy romantic movies because he loves the idea of a happy ending despite not having one himself.

Messes with his hair when he’s anxious, so it’s constantly messy and mussed.

Mega nail biter when he’s nervous.

Cousins with Jack.

Maurice:

Heavily touch reliant and when his friends don’t show him physical affection, he assumes the worst and gets very upset.

Heavily Italian, like so fucking Italian. His family hardly speaks English and he learned most of his from school.

Very passionate about science despite most people thinking he’s an idiot. He has some of the highest marks in his class.

Messes with things when he’s talking or uses hand gestures. Like if there’s a pen, he’s clicking it because it helps him concentrate.

Maurice has like a billion flannels and hoodies he just cycles through and it looks like he doesn’t change but no, it’s just that he owns a gazillion grey hoodies

His older sister when to an Ivy League school, so he owns a lot of stuff from it that he wears like sweaters or ball caps.

Eric:

Very sarcastic. his entire sense of humour is him bathing in his own sarcasm. It’s actually pretty well timed and kind of funny how he’s able to deadpan his jokes.

Very easily picks up on languages. He’s fluent or close to fluent in German, English, Italian, French, Spanish, Japanese and partly fluent in Korean.

Really enjoys computer science and plans on doing it for a living. He stays up late at night to work and sleeps until like midday.

Doesn’t acknowledge other people’s emotions very often because he doesn’t realise when he’s gone too far, but still feels bad for others when they’re hurt.

Jack’s favourite cousin because they’re cynical buddies. Jack is overly protective of him even though Eric is perfectly capable.

Robert:

Brothers with Ralph and is very protective over him. Has absolutely slandered choir members before for hating on Ralph.

Shares a dad with Ralph but has a different mom, who he visits over the summer and sometimes during the holidays. That’s where he gets his Spanish roots from, which is a language he’s fluent in. He has 7 siblings on that side of his family.

Adores burnt popcorn and burnt anything. If he can burn it, he will.

Works as a mechanic in his free time and built the car he shares with Ralph.

Sci-Fi nerd, specifically Star Wars. He loves the movies and watches them like every day.

Extremely talented artist, Robert sketches anytime he has a pencil and paper.

Peter:

Was bullied in the past but doesn’t let the words bother him anymore. It mostly stopped around high school.

Works with his auntie in the sweet shop and brings his friends food for them to taste test.

Used to be a boy scout, so he can tie any knot you want him to, it’s really a gift.

Gets very cold very easily, especially his fingertips. He usually has a pair of gloves on him for when it gets really bad.

A Mathlete for most of his time in high school, obviously is extremely intelligent.

Double knots his shoelaces so they’re extra secure.

Bill:

Swedish, and really enjoys his own culture. He will spend HOURS rambling about it and how much he loves it.

Watches Avatar the Last Airbender and has the biggest crushes on Sokka and Zuko.

Also is a sucker for people who wear glasses, he really loves them.

Works at the library despite not liking books, he finds comfort in shelving them and the order they go in.

Puts little umbrellas in every single drink he has, it doesn’t matter what it is.

Writes notes to himself on sticky notes because his memory is horrible.

Sets at least 5 alarms because 1 will not wake him up by itself.

Harold:

Can speak limited Spanish due to his schooling.

Likes singing, but never really got into it like some choir members because he has stage fright.

Powerful speaker when he wants to be, but is usually too nervous to say anything.

Has no idea how to tie a tie, so he lets other people do it for him.

Sometimes take sarcastic comments seriously and ends up confused.

A really good actor and loves the performing arts.

Has extremely clear skin, he never gets any blemishes.

Wilfred:

Dyed his hair because his naturally brown hair reminds him too much of his father, who he hates.

Has 4 tattoos in total, the 4 card suits on his cheek, a half sleeve of roses, a bow and olive branch on his inner forearm, and the solar system on his outer forearm.

Very flirtatious to people he doesn’t really like but gets nervous around those he does.

Hold grudges really well.

Has shockingly neat handwriting.

Has a pretty horrible home life but he never talks about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to be perceived as weak or incapable.

Colours with only crayons.

Percival:

Cries easily, as he’s very emotionally driven and is typically teased for being a crybaby or told to “toughen up.”

Absolutely has the worst sleep schedule ever, he gets 3 hours and calls it a win.

Can’t sleep without a nightlight on in his room.

Enjoys writing things down in this notebook instead of on his phone because he likes the feeling of physically using pen and paper.

Sends letters to people all the time instead of messaging.

Good at sewing, he makes his own Halloween costume every year by himself.

Hates horror movies because he’s spooked easily.

Max:

Lived through a house fire when he was younger, so he has burn scars all over his arms.

Is afraid of cooking due to the fire and will go without eating if he has to touch the stove to make food.

Laid back most of the time, but can reach a snapping point in which the emotion is amplified. (like sadness or anger)

Loves swimming, it doesn’t matter where he does it, he just loves to swim.

Is very time sensitive and has to get places early or directly on time or else he gets anxious.

A very fast reader, typically long books take him 2-3 days to get through.

Johnny:

Worries a lot, he usually sees the worst in every single situation.

Is a trans male (Ftm) and was accepted by his entire family when he came out.

Owns a St. Bernard named Dolly who is the sweetest dog ever.

Spends a lot of time outdoors, he still plays as if he is a child.

Also enjoys the snow a lot because he’s fond of building snowmen with the kids on his street.

Has very sensitive skin and eczema, which he doesn’t like to talk about or show anyone because it makes him feel insecure.

Oddly good at playing guitar, he just picks up on chords with ease.

Walter:

Good at playing the drums and annoys his entire family with it.

Uses a skateboard as his main method of transportation around places.

On the basketball team, as his older brother taught him to play when they were both younger.

Hates roller skating despite being very good at most things on wheels. He can never find his balance.

Shockingly good at Math, especially statistics and calculus. He’s in all advanced math courses.

Has a very weird snake addiction and he desperately wants to buy one.

Henry:

Aromantic Asexual who is best friends with Harold and Wilfred.

Mainly makes snippy remarks because his humour falls into the sarcasm umbrella.

Adores comic books and superheroes, specifically Marvel ones because he’s a fan of Dare Devil.

Plays baseball in his free time but hasn’t joined a team, he just plays with the boys in his neighbourhood.

Addicted to the High School Musical movies.

Good at painting people’s nails and will do it for them if they ask.

Has really fluffy hair that he lets people touch and play with.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: April Fools (You Can’t Kid A Kiddo)

Intro: It’s April Fools’ Day and Tony is out to play. Avengers, beware!

Warnings: Bad language, very mild smut…no one gets naked but just in case- NSFW, 18+

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

A/N: Happy April Fool’s Day! To celebrate I’m taking us WAY back into the SSB timeline, this takes place at some point just before the AOU timeline.

Word Count: 6k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 Steve’s hands were hot on Katie’s hips, gently gripping her bare skin just above her underwear, the top she was wearing riding up slightly. Her bare thighs were straddling his as he gripped her neck, pulling her down for a searing kiss, grinding up against her, the TV programme they had been watching was long forgotten.

“You know,” Steve pulled back slightly to look at her, one of his hands tangling in the hem of the plaid button down she’d stolen from him to sleep in, as usual, “Captain America doesn’t approve of theft.” “Captain America is an ass hole.” Katie grinned back. “Stevie is my favourite.”

He gave a chuckle and leaned back against the sofa cushions, simply taking in her appearance for a second. “How did I get so lucky?” He asked, reaching up to tuck her long hair behind her ears. She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“What’s brought this on?” Her hands slid up his chest, coming to a stop on his shoulders, fingers gently playing with the collar of his polo shirt.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Just seeing you now and then before with that reporter…reminds me about how fierce…” he pressed a kiss to her lips, “and loyal…”another kiss, “and downright sexy you are when you’re angry.”

“He was a dick.” She mumbled, against his lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled back to look at him, his fingers gently tracing the outside of her thighs. “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t already launched the publicity campaign for the book already.”

“Well its big news.”

“Of course it is, its Harlan Thrombey.” Katie shrugged. “His books are huge!”

“Did you ever get to the bottom of why he’s reached out to SIP to run the next one when he has his own publishing company?” Steve asked and she popped a shoulder in response. “Oh something to do with his Son annoying him and needing to be taught not to take things for granted. I can ask him that in October when I meet him to go over the final edit and discuss the covers and stuff…” She wrinkled her nose as her brow creased into a frown. “But that’s by the by. That ass-hat reporter should have been at the press launch like everyone else, not trying to accost us when we went out for lunch. And what the fuck has whether we’ve set a wedding date got to do with it anyway? Nosey bastard.”

Steve chuckled at her rant and looked at her, his eyes shining. “We haven’t set one though.”

“Yeah well, we’ve kinda had a bit going on.” She pondered. “I mean, there was my extended vacation in Canada…”

“Don’t.” Steve shook his head, swallowing. “It’s not funny. I hate it when you do that.”

Katie chuckled. “I’m sorry, baby.” She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, he hated it when she made light of her HYDRA ordeal. She pulled away, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Maybe once all this business with the sceptre is sorted we can think about it.” Steve sighed. “It’s certainly taking a little longer than we hoped.”

“Well it’s only the end of March. I’ve always wanted a summer wedding so it’s not…” Katie trailed off and Steve saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open as she looked at him. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” he frowned.

“It’s the 31st March.” She looked at him, swallowing and Steve felt the colour draining from his face.

“Crap.” The reason for their horror was simple. Because, forget Christmas or Thanksgiving, April Fools’ Day was Tony Stark’s favourite time of year, as his long suffering sister could testify. When she was a kid, Tony had done the usual stuff. Flour in her talc, washing up liquid in her shampoo, paper shapes of bugs (never spiders though, he wasn’t that cruel) in lampshades so when she turned the lights on she’d think she had a huge cockroach in there, that type of stuff. But, as she matured, so did the pranks. At one time whilst she had been at the tower for a meeting, JARVIS sent her an alert that someone had slashed her tyres in the carpark. She had sprinted outside to find photos of Slash from ‘Guns and Roses’ struck to the side of her wheels. Another year, Tony had hacked her StarkPhone and Laptop and changed the language to Chinese. Of course she couldn’t read fucking Chinese to change it back. When she found an agent in SHIELD who did and he reversed it for her, within thirty seconds it had flicked over to Russian. And when Natasha fixed that it became Swedish and so on and so on… Steve had also been the butt of a few pranks since he had known Tony. In 2013 he had fallen for the old toothpaste Oreo trick when a box had arrived for him allegedly from the cookie company themselves after Steve had been papped eating a packet. That had nearly made him sick. And then last year there had been the non-stop phone calls asking for Franklin. Every time it was someone different and Steve was getting more and more frustrated as to who exactly Franklin was and why people thought he was on his number. Then, as he and Katie had been on the sofa making out, he’d gotten one last call…

“Leave it…” she urged, her hands on his face turning him back to look at her. He kissed her again, hands sliding up the side of her torso, grinding his crotch down onto hers making her purr with delight as her hands strayed to the buckle of his belt, soft fingers gently skimming his abs as she made to undo it, his tongue tangling ferociously with hers as he gave a soft moan of pleasure… But his phone was going again. Katie sighed as he dropped his head to her chest, mumbling a curse. “Unless that’s a Code Red, you can tell whoever it is to fuck off.” She gave a frustrated growl, her head flopping back against the cushion as Steve reached over and answered it, still led over her. “Rogers.” He spoke sharply. It was another unknown number, but this time it wasn’t an unknown voice that spoke. “Hi this is Frankin!” Tony greeted him and Steve let out a growl of frustration as he realised he had been had. “Have there been,” there was a pause as the inventor laughed, “I’m sorry, have there been any calls for me?” “Tony, I swear to god!” He spat through gritted teeth as the inventor cackled and hung up. “Your brother is a dick.” He looked down at Katie, shaking his head. “Well yeah, I know that.” Katie looked up at her boyfriend. “What did he just do?” “You know those calls I’ve been getting all day, the ones asking for Franklin?” He looked at her and she nodded. “It was him.”

Katie paused and then let out a laugh. “To be fair, that’s a pretty good one.” “I hate him.” Steve mumbled, dropping his head back to her chest.

She chuckled again, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Stevie, wanna get him back?” “How?” Steve queried, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her. “Call him,” she grinned, leaning up and nipping at his jaw line softly as he closed his eyes, “leave the phone on the table,” she bucked up under him, wriggling her hips, his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight again, “and let him listen to us make out”

Steve hadn’t done that, because, well frankly the thought of anyone listening to them wasn’t a great turn on in his books, let alone her brother, so Tony had gone another year of getting away with it.

Simply put, Tony was king of the pranks, and this year he had the entire team at the tower to torment. 

“We should warn the others.” Steve looked at Katie, and with a sigh she nodded. She untangled herself from him and straightened the legs on her denim shorts.

“JARVIS?” She asked.

“Yes Miss Stark.” “Where are the rest of the team?”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the Common Room. Thor is in his quarters as is Mr Stark and Dr Banner is in the Lab.”

“I’ll cover Nat, Clint and Banner.” Steve nodded. “You wanna go see Thor?”

Katie nodded. “Sure, I’ll pop down and see him now. Then we should probably go for a look around, see if we can spot if he’s set anything up.” Katie climbed off his lap and Steve straightened his pants slightly before giving her a quick kiss and heading towards the stairs whereas Katie made her towards the hidden elevator, selecting the right floor. Thor and Clint shared one of the highest floors in the tower, both preferring to be higher up, closer to the roof but it was still below theirs. Exiting the elevator, she turned left and knocked on the door.

“Little Stark?” Thor answered and stepped back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “It’s not strictly pleasure I’m afraid Thor…” Katie sighed “I’m here with a warning.” “A warning?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you got five minutes? It’s gonna take some explanation.”

***** Tony was giggling to himself as he put the final touches to the last of his pranks, before closing the door to the Lab and heading back to his floor. It was ridiculously early in the morning, but needs must. There was no way he could have set this all up the previous evening because Kiddo and Spangles would most likely have done some kind of recon mission before they went to bed.

So, as the saying goes, the bird catches the worm and all that. Fuck Killian and his second mouse bullshit.

“What have you been doing?” Pepper mumbled to him as he walked back into their dark bedroom.

“Nothing.” He answered, with a grin, leaning down to give her a peck.

“Bullshit.” Pepper mumbled against his lips. “It’s April Fools’ Day…” “Is it?” he said, innocently and she rolled her eyes. “JARVIS?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Hey buddy, I need you to set up an alert for me for today. If anyone goes into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my equipment, I wanna know about it.”

“Of course Sir.”

Tony grinned as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Avengers, assemble!” 

Prank 1.

Steve was the first victim. He and Katie were making their way, cautiously, down to the large meeting room where they were all due to congregate to look over the plans of an abandoned British prison they suspected of being a HYDRA base. They made sure to check round each corner before they walked round it, checking up high, low, everywhere.

But there was no avoiding this prank.

Steve pressed his palm to the Biometric Pad on the meeting room door and the pair of them gave a loud yell and a jump as their ears were assaulted by a sudden chorus.

“Who’s strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right, night and day?”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Steve groaned as he pulled open the door, the song echoing through the PA system.

“Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Clint and Natasha were stood, poised at the table, both wearing identical looks of astonishment on their faces. They turned to Katie and Steve as they walked into the room, the song still playing.

“We can’t ignore there’s a threat and a war we must win! Who’ll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berlin?”

“I’m assuming this means Cap is the first of us to fall victim to Stark?” Clint asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Who will indeed lead the call for America? Who’ll rise or fall, give his all, for America?”

“Please tell me it isn’t going to go through a full rendition.” Steve sighed, dropping into a chair.

“Who’s here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Silence. The four of them waited with bated breath, but thankfully it had stopped.

“Just the first two verses.” Katie flopped down next to him. “Suppose we should be grateful.” “Kiddo, you’re as much of a sneak as Tony.” Clint looked at her, as Thor walked into the room. “How come you’ve never managed to get him back?”

“He’s too smart.” She sighed. “I’ve tried and tried before. It doesn’t help that he has JARVIS either, watch this…JARVIS?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

“Has my brother got an alert going for you to warn him if we try and prank him?” “I couldn’t possibly comment, Miss Stark, on whether or not your brother has an alert set up to warn him if any of you attempt to tamper with any of his equipment.”

Normally, Katie would chuckle at the AI’s tone but she was too frustrated with her brother and the seeming lack of loopholes in any of his instructions she could exploit. She leaned back in her chair and gave a huff “See?”

“I could just shock him with some lightning?” Thor suggested

“Think that’s a little harsh.” Steve shook his head. 

“See if you still think that by the end of the day when every time you open a door that song starts.” Natasha looked at him.

“What, you think…” Steve looked at her and then gave a groan. “Too much to hope that it would just be the one door isn’t it?”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Of course it isn’t just one door, Spangles!” _______

Prank 2.

Bruce was sincerely hoping that whatever inevitable prank Tony was going to pull on him that the Billionaire had been sensible enough not to shock him so far that the Hulk erupted. Bruce had a pretty good hold on him, so he wasn’t too worried but still, you never know.

The mild mannered scientist made it to his lab in one piece, opened the door and then stopped dead.

In front of him on the floor, for about two metres square were cups of water. And they were positioned that close together it left no space for him to step over in any direction without them spilling all over the floor.

Which meant he couldn’t get into the room.

Had it been anyone else, they would probably have simply kicked the cups over, but not Bruce. He was always paranoid about the liquid seeping through the floors and down onto the machinery which looked after the Iron Legion. 

So if he was going to get into the lab, he was going to have to move them one cup at a time. 

“Damned you, Tony!” He gave a loud, exasperated sigh. “JARVIS? I need a bucket…”

_______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Good luck finding one, Brucey.”

_______

Prank 3.

“I don’t think there’s much else to go on.” Steve sighed as the rest of the team finished looking over the plans “We need to get out there and do a recon really.”

“We prepping for another mission then, Cap?” Clint looked at him. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“I don’t think we have an alternative.” 

“Okay, well, if we get everything ready we can go at first light tomorrow.” Natasha suggested “I’ll get Hill onto the British Authorities, let them know we’re planning on coming.” With that an alert sounded on Katie’s phone and she looked down at it. “I gotta go take a conference call but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Steve nodded to her as she stood up and left the room. She made it to her office, safely and swung the door open, pausing just to make sure nothing fell from the door frame. She darted through, took a look round and everything seemed to be in order.

Suspecting Tony of most likely sabotaging her computer or screen, Katie sat down on her chair and a loud horn sounded causing her to scream. Involuntarily, her entire body jumped, and her chair toppled backwards. She went with it, arms and legs flailing and hit the floor with a crash.

After taking a moment to sort herself out she stood up, and looked at the bottom of her chair. There was an air horn strapped to the main leg which mean as soon as she had sat down, it would push the handle causing it to sound.

“I know you’re watching this you fucker!” She yelled, spinning round to the CCTV camera and flicking it off. “I hate you!”

_____ Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Feeling horny, Kiddo?”

_______

Prank 4.

Given that there was nothing else to do, Natasha decided to head to the gym, as she did every weekday morning, to practice Pilates. It was a routine she tried not to break as it helped her keep supple and relax. Katie sometimes joined her, and surprisingly so did Steve. He said it helped keep his mind clear. 

She knew that the routine made her an easy target for one of Stark’s pranks, but she was damned if he was going to catch her out. She was one of the world’s best spies, no way was he going to get her with some stupid, childish trick.

She entered the room and glanced up and around, checking the corners, you name it. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out at her, and even if they did, she’d floor them- more fool you, Stark- she leaned up against the bench and stretched her legs out.

“Who’s strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right, night and day?”

Natasha spun to see Steve shaking his head as he made his way into the room in his gym gear

“You joining me or hitting the bag?” She asked as they both tried to ignore the song as it continued ringing from the speakers.

“Joining you if that’s okay?” he said. “I went for a run this morning so…” “Sure.” She nodded, and as the song finally stopped they made their way to the store cupboards, picking out their mats. Natasha picked her favoured one, and lay it down on the floor.

As soon as she stepped on it there was a loud popping noise, like a gun going off, and she jumped backwards, dropping to the floor by instinct. 

“Nat,” Steve soothed, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay, no one’s shooting.” Angrily, Natasha stood up and stalked over to the mat. With a furious movement, she reached down and pulled it up off the floor and set about examining it.

“Bastard!” She exclaimed, slipping her hand into a small, almost invisible hole on the underside. She pulled out a tiny little firecracker, the type that kids used to throw on the floor in front of someone to make a loud bag. “He’s filled my mat with these!” 

______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Even Super Spies get fooled, Romanoff.”

_______

Prank 5 and 6.

Later that day the team met in the common room for lunch. Steve already had a headache from that damned song following him every time he opened a door, Katie was sporting quite a sore elbow after falling harshly on the floor, Bruce was pissed as it had taken him a good hour to get rid of the cups of water, and Natasha was seething at the fact she’d been caught out too.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with it for your entire life.” Clint said to Katie as he opened the fridge, pulling out a can of his favoured Dr Pepper. He grabbed a glass and then went to the dispenser for some ice, the way he always liked his soda, but nothing happened when he pressed the button.

“What the...” Clint frowned as he opened the freezer compartment and reached into the dispenser tray. After rummaging a little he stopped, and pulled something out before he gave a huge bellow of laughter. He turned, holding up the item and Steve glanced over to see it was a Tupperware tub that was full of ice, in the middle of which was frozen a Captain America action figure. There was a pause before the rest of the team fell about laughing and Steve groaned, shaking his head.

“Why has he picked on me two times?” he looked at Katie who gave a shrug.

“You know what he’s like, annoying you is his favourite pass-time.”

“You wanna go back in the freezer, Cap, or in the sink to deforst?” Clint asked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I took a long enough nap in the cold, thanks.”

Clint tossed the offending item into the sink and then reached for some ice cubes before he walked over to where the rest of the team were sat on the sofas with various lunch items on the coffee table. He poured the soda into the glass and set it on the table, still chuckling.

“You can stop looking so smug.” Katie turned to him. “He’ll get you eventually, you too Thor, there’s no way he hasn’t set one up for you both.” “I am mighty, Little Stark.” Thor grinned, nursing a plate of his favoured chocolate and sugar covered strawberries he had snaffled from a tray in the fridge. “It will take more than…” “SHIT!” Clint exclaimed, and with a loud yell they all jumped back as the soda in his glass was exploding over the top with such veracity it was showering them all in the sticky drink. As Steve and Natasha headed to grab some paper towels, Katie marched over to the freezer and yanked out the ice dispenser tray.

“He’s put fucking Mentos in the ice cubes!” She groaned with a shake of her head. “Jesus Christ!” “You gotta hand it to him.” Bruce sighed, wiping his glasses off on his shirt. “This is maximum effort.”

“Oh, I’d like to hand it to him,” Katie mumbled, “with my fist closed.” Thor gave a chuckle and popped a strawberry in his mouth, before he gave a grimace, gagged and spat it back out onto the plate.

“That’s-” he stood up, nearly pushing the coffee table over in his attempt to get to the sink. 

Katie watched him as he grabbed a glass of water and filled it from the tap. 

“What…” Natasha looked at Bruce who was examining a piece of the fruit, holding it in front of his nose.

“Salt.” Thor mumbled as he rinsed his mouth out. “It isn’t sugar, its salt. He put salt on my Chocolate Sugar Fruit!”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Ice Ice baby… no need to be so salty.”

_______

*******

“We have to get him back.” Natasha grumbled as they all sat in Katie and Steve’s apartment, having retreated to the relative safety as their living quarters were the one place there was no CCTV, and Katie had the authority to banish JARVIS from earwigging. (Tony had learnt that lesson one day after hearing something he really didn’t want to hear…)

“Believe me I’ve tried.” Katie sighed “And you heard J before, anyone tampers with his equipment and…” She stopped dead. That was it. That was the loophole. With a smirk she looked round the assembled faces. Steve arched an eyebrow at her, he knew that look very well.

“What you thinking?” He asked and she grinned at them all.

“I have an idea…”

They listened attentively, Clint and Natasha sharing a grin as she outlined her plan whilst Thor slapped his thigh with glee. Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at Banner who was also smiling ear to ear.

“That might just work.” Bruce nodded. “It’s a pretty good loophole, and we have the stuff in the lab so…” “I’ll need a distraction.” Katie mused, “something that’s gonna draw Tony out of his office for long enough for me to do it but…” “That’s easy.” Thor nodded. “I’m sure I can cause a good deal of noise in the Training Facility, break a few things with my hammer.”

“Fry something.” Steve looked around. “If you do that then JARVIS won’t be able to fix it remotely, Tony’s gonna have to get his hands dirty.”

“You all know what you’re doing?” Katie grinned as everyone nodded. “Okay, Avengers, let’s do this.“

Operation Payback.

Tony heard the bang seconds before JARVIS spoke

“Mr Stark.”

“What the hell was that?”

“There’s been an incident in the Training Suite.”

“Course there has.” Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at how stupid they thought he was. He wasn’t falling for a distraction like that. “Where is everyone?” “Miss Stark, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the shooting range.” JARVIS informed him. Doctor Banner was in his lab, although it appears he is now making his way down to the Training Facility to find out what’s going on. Captain Rogers is already there as is Thor.”

“What’s the incident?”

“It appears Thor has struck the speakers and the access pad with a bolt of lightning.” JARVIS replied. “I’m currently assessing the damage but as a result he is locked in. And he isn’t happy.” Okay, so maybe this was serious….

Tony gave an exasperated groan and pushed his chair from his desk. “Suppose I best go see if I can help. Remember what I said, anyone comes in here and tampers with my equipment…” “Of course, Sir.”

When Tony arrived, Thor was kicking the door to the training facility, waving his hammer irately.

“Thor!” Steve was stood by the glass, attempting to calm him down. “Don’t buddy, we’ll get you out of there.” “I can get myself out.” Thor blazed, raising his hand and Tony blanched at the fact Thor was threatening to send his hammer straight through the wall. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the walls and glass to get damaged but they’d only just had it replaced after Steve and Thor had been practicing using Steve’s shield and Mjolnir to cause an outwards blasting shockwave. It had taken down two walls and completely decimated a bank of computers in the lab on the other side of the floor.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, and Steve spun to him shooting him a glare.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on!” Thor roared. “That infernal song!”

His hammer crackled ominously again and Tony looked back to Steve.

“He was fed up of hearing Star Spangled Man With A Plan ringing out every goddamned time I opened a door.” Steve folded his arms. “So he lost his temper. And I can’t say I blame him.” “We’ve talked about this.” Tony looked at Thor. “You need to use your words, buddy!” “Words, I’ll give you more than words, Stark!” Thor roared. “Now get me out of here!”

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking at the pad on the door. “Damage report?”

“The Circuit is completely fried, Sir.” JARVIS replied. “I cannot access or override, you will need to do it manually.”

“Great.” Tony mumbled. “Let me just go get my tools from the lab.” Mumbling to himself, he set off down the corridor and once he was gone, Thor grinned and tossed his hammer in the air as he gave Steve and Banner the thumbs up before he caught it expertly again in his right hand.

“Good job!” Steve nodded with a smile as he pulled his phone out and dialled Katie quickly. “You’re up.” 

****

It took Tony roughly thirty minutes to replace the wires and unlock the door. Thor stormed out, pushed him harshly in the chest before he left down the corridor.

“Guess they don’t have April Fools’ Day on Asgard.” Tony mumbled, rubbing at the front of his shirt.

“To be honest, Tony, it’s pretty annoying.” Bruce sighed. “Can you turn it off now? I mean its almost two in the afternoon.” “Yeah I suppose.” Tony sighed, before he grinned. “Tt was a pretty good one though, right.” “Hilarious.” Steve deadpanned, his hands falling to his belt buckle. Tony flashed him a grin and a shrug before he gathered up his tools and made his way back down the corridor.

“JAR?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Turn off ‘Prank Spangles’ will you, before anyone else breaks more of my tower.”

“Right away, Sir.” “And I’m assuming from the lack of contact no one’s been in my office or anywhere else tampering with my equipment?” “That’s correct, Sir.” “Today has been a good day.” Tony grinned to himself.

Once he was back in his office he sat down at his chair, and went through his emails quickly. He absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which felt a little dry to be honest. But he hadn’t oiled it since that morning. Reaching into his drawer he grabbed the small bottle, tipped a good amount onto his hand and spread it across the expertly groomed whiskers before he continued with his work. It took him a few hours but he cleared his inbox and then decided it was time to face the music. Heading down to the common room he found the rest of the team lounging in front of the TV. They were watching Kitchen Nightmares. 

“S’up Kids?” he asked and none of them looked at him. “Okay, alright, I know, sorry if I pranked you but if I buy takeout will that make you forgive me?”

No answer.

“Oh come on!” Tony crossed the room, sinking into a spare arm chair. “I’ll get Thai.”

The team exchanged glances before Bruce gave a sigh. He was always the one to cave first, the mild mannered Scientist found it hard to stay outwardly angry, which was ironic when anyone thought about it.

“To be fair, that trick with the water was pretty clever.”

“Yeah, and I suppose the salt strawberries were a little amusing.” Thor looked at Katie.

She shrugged, her feet resting in Steve’s lap as he was gently running his fingers up and down her calf.

“Lighten up, Kiddo.”  Tony sighed, flopping onto an arm chair.  

“Payback’s a bitch, and so are you.”  She responded simply, still not looking at him.

“You’ve never managed to get me back yet.” Tony snorted.

At that point he noticed Natasha and Clint exchanging smirks. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clint shook his head.

“I like your beard” Thor suddenly grinned. “I have always admired how you keep it so neat and groomed. Maybe I should trim mine the same way.” Tony frowned. “Oh is this the part where you pin me down and shave it?” He rolled his eyes. “You know I can call my suit to me in like five seconds flat.” “We know.” Steve replied, looking at him and Tony’s frown deepened. The way the Captain’s blue eyes were shining with mirth made him uncomfortable.

He looked round as six pairs of eyes were all completely focussed on him now before Katie cracked up laughing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t hold…” her laughter grew more and more as she threw her head back against the arm of the sofa “You look ridiculous!” Tony frowned and without a word stood up from the chair and made his way to the bar to glance in the mirrored surface between the shelves.

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

His goatee. His beautiful goatee…was blonde.

He spun round and the rest of the guys in the room cracked up laughing. Steve had his head thrown back, right hand clutching at his chest as Katie wiped tears from her face whilst Natasha doubled over on her seat. Besides her Clint slapped his thigh, his chuckles loud.

“What…how…” Tony spluttered, looking again at his reflection, before he glared back at the group.

“Slipped a little peroxide in your beard oil.” Katie managed to stutter between laughs, Thor’s loud rumbles continued, punctuated every now and then by a snort from Banner.

“JARVIS!” Tony roared “I told you to tell me if anyone went into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my stuff…” “I take zero responsibility for this, Sir” The AI responded. “And I believe your instruction was to alert you if anyone entered your office or the garage or anywhere in the tower and messed with your equipment. Technically Miss Stark didn’t touch your equipment, only your Male grooming product. I believe they exploited a loophole.” That made the group laugh even harder as Tony went bright red, spluttering obscenities at JARVIS. Eventually he calmed down and sighed, before he glanced at his sister.

“You know I’m almost proud…” he said, shaking his head. “Almost…”

Katie gave him a wink in response. “You know what they say…you can’t kid a kidder, or in this case Kiddo…”

Tony gave a groan which turned into a resigned chuckle. He could always dye it back. “Good job, I’m impressed.” He mused, before he reached for some ice from the bucket on the bar and sighed. “Empty.”

“Yeah, don’t bother with the stuff in the dispenser.” Clint scoffed and Tony grinned.

“Wasn’t gonna, Legolass.” He grabbed the metal ice bucket and stepped from behind the bar.

“Oh, that reminds me, nice touch with the ice block.” Steve rolled his eyes and Tony looked at him, frowning.

“What?”

“The scale model Capsicle in the ice dispenser-“

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Old Man.” Tony shook his head. “Are you going senile?”

Steve took a deep breath and gave an exasperated sigh. “You don’t need to pretend anymore Tony.”

“Hey, I’m not.” Tony held his spare hand up. “That, as amusing as it was to watch, was not me. Although I’m kinda pissed I didn’t think of it.”

“It wasn’t you?” Steve frowned.

“Nope. I am not Spartacus.”

“Then who…” Steve started to ask but trailed off as he felt Katie’s legs shift a little in his lap. He turned to see her exchange a glance with Thor, biting her lip and then he realised exactly who was responsible. “Oh you are…”

“It was his idea!” Katie pointed at Thor as Steve glared at her.

“Yes, it was Captain.” Thor grinned and Steve turned his attention to the god. “When I found out what this whole Fools Day was about, I decided that I wanted to pull a prank of my own. Little Stark came up with that one. And, I must say, it was highly entertaining.”

Tony chuckled and clapped Steve on his shoulder from behind the couch as he headed off to find ice. “This has definitely been a good day.”

Steve continued to look at Katie, eyes narrowed as she stared back, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t look at me like that, Soldier.”

“Oh, and how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re utterly and thoroughly disappointed in me.”

“I am utterly and thoroughly disappointed in you.” His eyes followed her as she shifted from where she’d been sprawled across the sofa, so she was sat upright. She sidled up closer to him, and leaned over.

“We’ll call it even for the plastic spider I found in the shower tray.” She whispered into his ear and Steve stiffened a little, before he swallowed and turned to look at her.

“Sorry?” He offered and she snorted, shaking her head. “To be honest, Doll, I didn’t think you’d noticed given your lack of reaction to it this morning.”

“Yeah, well, I grew up with Tony. You gotta try much harder than that to catch me out.”

“Message received, understood and duly noted for next year.” Steve muttered, his eyes flashing cheekily before he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll absolutely learn how to Kid a Kiddo.”

“Don’t count on it, Soldier.” She smirked as he pulled back, and he chuckled, wrapping his arm round her and pulling her close, pressing a kiss to her head.

All in all, Tony was right. It hadn’t been a bad day.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 17 September 1839

7

11

F54 ½° at 7 ¼ am Very rainy night and morning – the rain poured down fell so noisily last night, it kept awake sometime – terribly rainy this morning and now at 9 ½ breakfast just over – A- made tea of our spirit of wine bottle that the sub-douanier broke yesterday Gross had saved a little – just enough for this morning and we have done very well – boiled our 4 eggs at the top of our tea-urn (Sam [ovav]) A- ate biscuits and I finished our Viborg [Vyborg] bread and we have each a little Deventer gingerbread – Gross says the Douanier this morning begged I would leave my address in Petersburg – till 10 20/.. still raining fast, wrote note explanatory (vide Journal book at the index end) to ‘Monsieur le chef de la Douane à Walkiasari’ put it an envelope sealed with my arms and left it en passant at the Douane – then came the gentleman himself – gave him the note sealed with my arms – long explanation – said I had written everything in the note – had in the old German speaking woman – said I would send my books to the committee in Petersburg and do all right – then said I had a letter to our ambassador Lord [Clauircard], which seemed to

September Tuesday 17 then having before paid for our 4 horses (must pay before we we set off) had the man of the house in to be paid – he 1st asked 9 rubels, then ten, then nineteen – I said I would give one more (ten) but that was all, without a written bill in Russian – they said he could not write – gave the woman servant 20kop.at last off at 10 55/.. from Walkiasari little unpainted village beyond our station and the 2 or 3 good houses seem as we entered the town – our subdouanier lifted the Schlagbaune at the Douane and bowed as did the 2 officers and thro’ and off we went sedately at foots’ pace – (the douane 50 or 60 yards from the station post-house) – damp but almost fair at 10 55/.. – Jean take John Winter with Gross – our harness tied on to the perch or somewhere as it could Grotza inside as from Åbo and Russian driver and harness – the road a broadish (worn) pavé for a little distance out of the town – then broad sandy road the [nuts] and holes full of water and the sand as muddy as a deluge of rain last night and this morning could make it low forest of Scotch fir and birch – our driver will not break our springs by galloping – we go foots’ pace rarely breaking into a little trot for a minute or 2 – they wanted to put us 6 horses – I said they might do as they liked by my podaroshna was for 4 and I should only pay for 4 – had I known the road I should not have thought 6 too many – but perhaps we or our carriage is safer with 4 – tis now 12 5/.. and we walk on – damp but fair our forest thicker and twice as tall but still young

SH:7/ML/TR/14/0013

September Tuesday 17 now at 12 10/.. pavé and we trot gently – a minute or 2 – then walk – then trot gentle again – at 12 25/.. break in the forest, and 2 or 3 or 4 parcels of unpainted buildings – farmsteads – long straw corn (rye I think) in short stook capped by a couple of sheaves as with us – fences and buildings as in north of Sweden, Norway and Finland – and corn short straw – and stack long and narrow as 1st observed a day or 2 ago – the stack perhaps 5 or 6 or more yards long and 1 yard or rather more broad and 3 or 4 yards high – now at 12 ½ steep paved pitch and the drag – 5 yards deep of sand in this hollow in bank on each side the road – bad harness, bad driver – but they would neither find harness or coachman – Reading classical antiquities Launder p. 5 vide Get

William’s geography of Asia

Taylors’ Herodotus p. 10

at 1 5/.. another scattered unpainted poor picturesque hamlet or 3 or 4 farms and their appurtenances – Log-houses generally not flatted a woman milking now at 1 10/.. out of doors in stubble field close to the house – at 1 ½ in another pretty break in the forest 4 or 5 more farmsteads – and our station at 1 35/.. looks about as good as our station house last night with a building opposite to it on the other side of the broad (40 or 50 yards broad?) paved road a couple of carts stopping there, and a board with something written on it in gold letters – a sign board? – a little portico 4 wooden pillars here with balcony over it in the [end], and

September Tuesday 17

St. Petersburg 18 ½ v.

the station is ‘6ere

2 windows on each side –house covered with boards unpainted – and 2 little round windows in the roof on each side the porticoed middle – the opposite building has a little balcony but no portico underneath – the porch and entrance door being into the lower building adjoining the middle 2 story part – last we had a projecting gabelended porch, glazered at the sides – a little calêche and 3 horses drives up now at 2 pm. cannot read the guide post but distinctively make out that from here to St. P- is marked 18 1/2v. – I have just paid as demanded 7 rubels 4 kopecks for the 4 horses – and have paid my Finnish money and hear nothing said against it as yet – nothing against it yesterday or this morning –

off again at 2 3/.. – pretty undulating ground wooded, and parky – at 2 18/.. gentlemans’ house yellow and pea green roof (right) – large 6 or 8 white style portico and pediment front and a little maison carrée at the top of the house across the ridge - .:. the queer effect of one temple above another – but very pretty undulating road and ground beautifully [?] wooded – Road broad and nearly ½ in the middle pavé all the last stage from 12 ½ and will be all this (apparently) baddish roughish pavé but no worse than the common pavé in the south of France where they still exist – but luckily they macadamize there now – this man better driver  than the last but now 2 35/.. stopping 2nd time – 1st a trace broken now something else –

SH:7/ML/TR/14/0014

September Tuesday 17 red sand each side of road – 6 or 8 inch of soil – to 2 or 3 above the red sand – green rye fields large enclosures – here alongside the road (not foresty since 2 25/.. now 2 35/..) double and [?] railing but tied between thin long upright as in Sweden and Finland and Norway – now at 2 40/.. hamlet, one broad street of gabel ended log houses unflatted and unpainted roofs projecting 4 or 5ft. – often a balcony or gallery in front of the top window this story in the gabel end, and window frames and weather boards [carved] and sometimes these and shutters variously painted our drivers signs and whistles alternately and aloud – now at 2 50/.. have just trotted past the last house of the village – 10 or a dozen better houses chiefly towards this end – pretty little lake (left) people housing in sacks potato tops on getting up the potatoes – and pretty lake (right) distant – and large expanse of wooded plain right – the country (our road) beautifully and parkisly wooded – there is an air of novelty – our driver signs more like a Spaniard than any other – his dark grey frock and red belt or [?] – and low crowned [?] and buckles and peacock feathers

St. P- at 2 55/.. in the distance right ahead right – 2 or 3 towers dimly seen – 1 above all the rest – at 3 village and lake close right – very here pretty but quite a dead woody flat all to the right and cross bridge over swamp and end of lake into the village – between houses white and green roof and all large very [?] window – another long street of village but all better than the last – lake very pretty neat grey stone coloured church with 2 pea green, covered low square towers on a hill of red sand darkened with S. fir – Great many little waggons (tilages) on the road – now at 3 10/.. west wooded flat all round terminated only by the horizon – S. fir parkwise along our wide road and red sand barren land the pavé jolty but really very fair corn out looking blackish – at 3 27/.. the sea in the distance just distinguishable – at 3 33/.. little distant right neat good white green roofed village or some manufactory? or government village establishment? – 3 40/.. hay out in cock – at 3 50/.. pass 1st barrier (Schalagbaum) into St. P- and a soldier took our passport and podaroshna to be visé – detained 4 or 5 minutes – enter the town i.e. pass the large brick barrack at 4 5/.. and have passed a few calêches and 4 or 5 droshkies since passing the black and white and red striped Schlagbaum barrier straight along – no houses till 4 5/.. turn right at 4 18/.. and 1st bridge and Neva at 4

SH:7/ML/TR/14/0015

September Tuesday 17 steamers and broad river and Troitskoi bridge at 4 20/.. – handsome iron railing – 4 carriages and 4 passed us on the bridge – at Mrs. Wilsons’ at 4 47/.. – asked our names – because a Mrs. Bishop expected whom she did not wish to receive – dressed in a hurry – dinner at 6 – coffee – paid John Winter 50 dollars banco as I believed was agreed and understood – asked 10 dollars rigsgold more – gave him 4 dollars Rigs+ 72 sk. banco all the Swedish money (paper) I had left – Coffee – fair in the afternoon – F63° now at 10 40/.. pm – Disappointed with the statue of Peter – there is a lurking shabbiness about the fine buildings and a dullness in the vastness – I like Regent street and our squares better and Paris best

Arrive at St. Petersburg

[amyonrails]

Traveling to Sweden by train

Things are slowly calming down again so I decided to spend a one week vacation in the Swedish city of Gothenburg. I want to share this journey with people as I promised friends to take lots of pictures anyway and because it personally means quite a lot to me to finally get out there again. Not only is this finally a proper vacation after a year and a half of sitting at home a lot with the coronavirus pandemic making it unfeasible to travel anywhere farther than where the S-Bahn could carry me. But this is also my first international journey in just over 10 years. Finally I feel comfortable taking on such a trek and because I am apparently a bit silly and like trains I decided to do this journey (nearly) all by train.

Planned route

Now how does one get from Berlin to Gothenburg by train? The route I will be taking starts in Berlin from which I will first board an ICE (InterCity Express; the German high speed train class of DB) to Hamburg to change to an IC (InterCity; a high-ish speed service) which is a joint operation by DB and the Danish national train service taking me all the way to the Danish capital of Copenhagen. From there I can take the Öresundtåg (literally Öresundtrain) over the Öresundbridge across the (can you guess it?) Öresund between Denmark and Sweden. The Öresundtåg stops in the city of Malmö, where I get a high speed train by the Swedish operator SJ that will get me to my destination.

This is quite a trip with a few changes and because I planned this with change times of at least 30 minutes in case there are delays the whole journey will take about 13 hours. The straight distance between the two cities is about 580 kilometres but due to the detour over Jutland the distance actually traveled is closer to 1000 kilometres.

(the route vaguely traced in Google Maps)

I booked the tickets online a few weeks ahead and paid for all second class tickets about 70 € in total (and again about 70 € for the return trip). This was actually quite pleasant. The whole first part of the journey up to Malmö I was able to plan with the website of DB, which cooperates nicely with services of neighboring countries. The booking website of SJ was also easy to use, very user friendly and has a good English translation.

The paperwork

So because this is an international journey we have to consider paperwork of course. You can’t just travel to another country, surely there is a bunch of hoops you have to jump through, right? Well, because of the circumstances, kinda but not really.

First off: no visa required. I am a German citizen and am thus allowed to travel freely within the Schengen-area and the only required document is my ID card. And that is only in case I actually get carded. On train connections that is only done occasionally, but of course I will have my ID with me, so that will not be an issue.

Due to the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic it is also necessary to bring either a negative test result when crossing borders or a certificate of vaccination against the virus. Which I got. You can have it in paper or digitally and two weeks after your second shot you are free to travel again. No quarantining or anything. I got vaccinated anyway, so this was no issue at all.

Over all this got sorted pretty easily and I quickly had everything I need.

As a slight hint for anyone traveling to Sweden for the first time: paying in cash is incredibly uncommon especially in the cities there so I very much advise getting a credit card. I used a simple card I could charge with a bit of money, which I got from my bank with no additional cost and due to the limited money on it, losing it would not have been that bad as well.

Potential obstacles

But of course, stuff happened. Or rather, would maybe happen. I am writing this portion slightly ahead and at the end of reading this you will know, how it actually played out. As will I know, because by then I hopefully will have arrived.

Over the summer of 2021 the train drivers union GDL started talks with DB about raises and compensation over the additional hours drivers had done during the pandemic. Talks broke down though and thus they started striking.

There are more internal factors at play here as well but I am not in the know enough to properly judge or even explain the whole picture. But in the end it also does not really matter because I can’t really change it that quickly. So I have to live with the potential of the trains in Germany being canceled due to strikes. Only in Germany though. As soon as I reach Denmark I will be fine.

The strikes are not full time. They usually go on for two or three days and then normal service resumes within a few hours. And they tend to stick to work days. Which might mean I get lucky as I will depart on a Saturday. But I will watch the news closely and may have to rapidly come up with a backup plan.

Additionally and a bit hilariously I will have to switch onto a rail replacement bus on my journey to Gothenburg. Just on the weekend where I will travel they are doing some bridgework between Malmö and the town of Lund. This is certainly an inconvenience, but I just hope it will work out okay, as it is not that far to Lund. If this was not the case, I would have been able to make this journey exclusively with electric trains.

The strike

And of course it had to happen. On Monday the 30th of August the union announced a strike that would cover a whole week and with that, cover the weekend I wanted to travel on.

But no reason to panic yet. This gave me a few days to figure out how to navigate around this. By Tuesday afternoon DB had figured out which services would still be running.

I got pretty unlucky though. During this strike no DB service would run from Hamburg to Copenhagen. So it became necessary to find another way.

Thankfully I remembered the provider Snälltåget. They run a night train from Berlin all the way to Stockholm with stops in larger cities. Like for example Malmö.

And so for an additional price of just 10€ in total I got my DB ticket refunded, bought a ticket for the Snälltåget service from Saturday 7 in the evening to arrive on Sunday at around 8 in the morning and shifted the ticket I had bought with SJ to a train on Sunday.

Overall that was not nearly as bad as I initially feared and by Tuesday afternoon I had rescheduled.

The journey

Saturday came and in the evening it got time to head out. Due to the strike the S-Bahn service in Berlin was also pretty dodgy so I opted for a route with U-Bahn and bus. Which worked pretty well. The bus was a bit crowded but the whole trip was only a few minutes slower than any S-Bahn connection available to me.

Berlin central station is a very modern steel and glass construction that is very vertical with platforms going east-west above ground and platforms going north-south below ground. Due to the strike there were only few trains around but there were still some passengers taking the few trains in service.

(a view along the upper platforms at Berlin central station with the low sun shining through the glass roof)

About 20 minutes before departure my train pulled onto the platform. Four carriages pulled by an electric loco. Very quickly I had found my seat and was happy to see us depart perfectly on time at 19:02. But then had to stop for twenty minutes just after leaving the city behind, because unauthorized people were on the track.

For this section with Snälltåget I had booked the most basic seat. Fortunately the person who boarded the train in Hamburg at around 22:00 seated next to me found another free seat, so neither of us had to be crammed in our seats and attempt to sleep.

Ah yes, sleep. As this was a night train a reasonable thing to do is to sleep. Unfortunately a few things got in the way of that. Firstly, the cabin light in the open saloon was never turned off. It was comparatively low, but still bright enough to disrupt sleep.

And then came the stop just behind the Danish border. In the small town Padborg, the loco that had hauled us all the way from Berlin got replaced by a Danish locomotive. This is due to a difference in voltage between the countries’ catenary equipment. That alone would have been fine, but unfortunately the Danish border guards deem it necessary to check every single train. And if that means disrupting 200 peoples sleep each night at 2 in the morning then they will do it. Which is what they did.

(empty platforms at Padborg, only some bright lamps break the darkness in the dead of night while the border guards board the train)

(the sun is just barely rising over the flat and still dark Danish countryside)

During the next few hours I managed to catch a bit of uneasy sleep until the early dawn. Because I realized, that we were nearing Copenhagen I decided to just stay awake and watch the landscape zip by as the sun crept up. And it was worth it.

(banks of mist over fields)

Fields covered in mist like ghostly apparitions. And right as the sun really rose and made it easy to see, we crossed the Öresundbridge. A wonderful view.

(the metal frame of the Öresundbridge with the sea visible in the background, the sun is shining just out of frame to the right)

After the bridge it was not far to the city of Malmö. Unfortunately we were delayed slightly again. Slowly I felt like fate was trying to keep me from reaching my destination.

But because I was cautious this delay was not enough to mess with my plans. The train arrived slightly delayed at around 08:30.

(the loco that had pulled me through the bit of Sweden I had crossed this far sitting at a platform in Malmö)

I did not take time to look at Malmö central station, but from what I saw it is a nice station with the older platforms being complemented by a modern building housing some shops. But I had a bus to catch, so I headed for one of the exits.

Some helpful staff was able to point me to the replacement bus I now had to take to get to Lund. The bus trip, while a bit inconvenient was actually a nice change. And I got dropped off right in front of the train station an hour before my train was due to depart.

And that last leg of the journey was very pleasant. The X55 even in second class was wonderful to ride. Good leg space, large windows, pleasant decor and a comfortable ride paired with sunny views of the Swedish countryside. This train made it immediately clear to me, that Swedish rail has a wider loading gauge than most other countries and the cars are built accordingly with lots of room. Zooming through hills and past fields at not very high speeds was just a delight.

(a bit of Swedish countryside with fields and farm buildings under a blue sky, in the distance one can just about see the coastline)

And after about 2 and a half hours my final train for that day pulled into Gothenburg central station. Which is a wonderful old station that has been maintained very well. The main concourse still has it’s original dark wood framing and large murals show different old railway lines all under an iron and glass ceiling, which makes it feel large but still cozy. Even tired as I was, I was surprised by how nice this station is.

(the main concourse in Gothenburg central station)

(the front of Gothenburg central station in broad daylight)

From the central station one can easily get anywhere in the city with the many trams or a bus which stop just a hundred meters from the station entrance.

In conclusion

This whole trip is now about two weeks in the past and I had some time to think about it. In general I still think this is a good way to get to Sweden, especially if you are on a budget. Next time I want to try out a proper cabin with a berth on the night train, because I am just too tall to sleep in any way comfortably in a seat.