sweet dreams & flying machines by thefangirlhood It is Martin Crieff’s sixth birthday. He is given to understand, based on a picture book that one of the neighbor children lent him— well, left with him, anyway, after using it to hit him over the head— that birthdays are supposed to be magical. So far nothing magical has happened, but it hasn’t been his birthday for very many hours yet, so maybe there’s hope. After all, on Caitlin’s birthday, she got to ride a pony, and on Simon’s birthday, he got to ride a rollercoaster, and now it’s his birthday, so surely something good will happen. Surely. He knows what he would pick, if his birthday turned out like in the picture book. In the book, a good wizard shows up on a little boy’s birthday and takes him on an adventure, and there are dinosaurs and giant frogs and a cake as big as a house. Martin doesn’t want any of those things, though. All Martin wants in the world is to be an aeroplane, because all Martin really wants is to fly, but even at the young age of six, he recognizes that he is unlikely to sprout wings anytime soon. This is surely for the best; school is difficult enough without the added complication of feathers. OMG THERE IS FIC FOR THIS NOW. #World’s Only Consulting Enabler #STRIKES AGAIN
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sweet dreams & flying machines by thefangirlhood

It is Martin Crieff’s sixth birthday.

He is given to understand, based on a picture book that one of the neighbor children lent him— well, left with him, anyway, after using it to hit him over the head— that birthdays are supposed to be magical. So far nothing magical has happened, but it hasn’t been his birthday for very many hours yet, so maybe there’s hope. After all, on Caitlin’s birthday, she got to ride a pony, and on Simon’s birthday, he got to ride a rollercoaster, and now it’s his birthday, so surely something good will happen. Surely.

He knows what he would pick, if his birthday turned out like in the picture book. In the book, a good wizard shows up on a little boy’s birthday and takes him on an adventure, and there are dinosaurs and giant frogs and a cake as big as a house.

Martin doesn’t want any of those things, though.

All Martin wants in the world is to be an aeroplane, because all Martin really wants is to fly, but even at the young age of six, he recognizes that he is unlikely to sprout wings anytime soon. This is surely for the best; school is difficult enough without the added complication of feathers.

OMG THERE IS FIC FOR THIS NOW.

#World’s Only Consulting Enabler #STRIKES AGAIN

mirabilelectu: (Parts 1, 2) In all of the excitement of suddenly finding herself in the arms of a man who had rescued her from imminent disaster, Molly had completely forgotten about the one potential roadblock to her unexpectedly happy day - to wit, the firmly shut doors of the departure gate that she should have gone through at least ten minutes ago. Giddy joy melted away like the morning dew under a hot sun as she stared at the empty space where her plane had once stood, feeling her heart sink in despair and tears well in her eyes at the thought of her dream vacation that had been ruined before it even began. The last thing she wanted was to start crying in front of the cute pilot who had gallantly insisted on escorting her to her gate with a proffered arm after not only catching her as she fell but helping her retrieve her lost possessions, but honestly the prospect of not even getting to go on her trip to Verona rendered everything else meaningless.  But before the tears burning in her eyes could spill down her cheeks or her chin could truly begin to wobble from the effort of repressing a sob, a gentle hand touched her hesitantly on the shoulder. With a slight jump she dashed the incriminating evidence from her eyes and turned to look at the man who had introduced himself as Captain Martin Crieff as they had walked over to the gate. His face had flushed an adorable pink as he stumbled slightly over his title, and quickly gone from pink to red along with a surprisingly large smile when she had giggled at his slip and squeezed his arm gently in commiseration. Martin was looking at her now with an expression of sincere regret and worry on his face, almost as though he were afraid that her current predicament was somehow his fault. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” The poor man looked almost as upset as she felt, and for some reason she could not name Molly felt a bit of her despair lift at the thought. Apparently bad situations could be made a little less terrible if there was someone there to comfort you instead of make a sarcastic comment or hurtful observation about your weight. With a deep breath she steadied herself and managed to say in an admirably calm voice, “It’s…it’s not your fault. It’s fine.” That was a blatant lie of course - it certainly wasn’t fine, but there was no way that she was going to let him know that. Molly was many things, but helpless had never been one of them, and she was through letting the men in her life think that about her. “I’ll just figure out how to get to Verona another way. It’s not the end of the world.” Martin’s eyes went wide, and for a moment Molly was afraid that he had offended him in some way. But before she could ask what she had done wrong he asked in a voice full of wonder “You’re going to Verona?” And that was how, not twenty minutes later, she found herself walking across the tarmac of the airport in order to be secreted onto a tiny charter plane headed for Rome. The lucky coincidence was almost not to be believed, but Martin had insisted that they were indeed already headed for Rome and that the plane he was flying was oh so conveniently booked by only one elderly passenger. Molly had been more than dubious at first, but after Martin had repeatedly assured her that he would be able to get her on the flight without a problem the dizzying rush of excitement and adventure had swept her away and she found now as she held his hand and hurried after him like a guilty schoolchild she could not begin to wipe the grin off of her face. This was quite likely the most ridiculous thing she had ever done, and she was loving every second of it. There was a brief moment of danger boarding the plane when they saw that the chronically early businessman who was actually paying for this flight was already on board and situated in his seat, but thankfully he was also chronically sleepy as well and had already fallen into a deep slumber. Molly let out the breath she had been holding since she saw him sitting there, realizing a moment later that she was not only still holding Martin’s hand but had been gripping it tightly in fear. Blood rushed into her face as she looked down at their clasped hands, and her heart nearly skipped a beat when it occurred to her that Martin didn’t seem in any hurry to let go either. With an embarrassed smile he motioned that she should follow him to a seat in the back of the plane where she would hopefully be hidden from discovery. Heart racing, she followed him and sat, staring with an incredulous smile at this wonderful man who in another sudden fit of chivalry helped her into her seat with a bow. “My lady,” he murmured quietly with a bashful grin, eyes locked with hers and her hand still clasped in his. He seemed reluctant to let go, unwilling to lose the electric contact between them that left Molly breathless with wonder and happiness. Finally though he straightened and pulled away, fingers brushing delicately over the pulse point in her wrist and leaving a trail of fire as they went. With a last, quiet smile he turned to walk slowly up the aisle of the plane, leaving a very happy, very confused Molly in his wake to wonder what on earth had just happened to her.
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mirabilelectu:

(Parts 1, 2)

In all of the excitement of suddenly finding herself in the arms of a man who had rescued her from imminent disaster, Molly had completely forgotten about the one potential roadblock to her unexpectedly happy day - to wit, the firmly shut doors of the departure gate that she should have gone through at least ten minutes ago. Giddy joy melted away like the morning dew under a hot sun as she stared at the empty space where her plane had once stood, feeling her heart sink in despair and tears well in her eyes at the thought of her dream vacation that had been ruined before it even began. The last thing she wanted was to start crying in front of the cute pilot who had gallantly insisted on escorting her to her gate with a proffered arm after not only catching her as she fell but helping her retrieve her lost possessions, but honestly the prospect of not even getting to go on her trip to Verona rendered everything else meaningless. 

But before the tears burning in her eyes could spill down her cheeks or her chin could truly begin to wobble from the effort of repressing a sob, a gentle hand touched her hesitantly on the shoulder. With a slight jump she dashed the incriminating evidence from her eyes and turned to look at the man who had introduced himself as Captain Martin Crieff as they had walked over to the gate. His face had flushed an adorable pink as he stumbled slightly over his title, and quickly gone from pink to red along with a surprisingly large smile when she had giggled at his slip and squeezed his arm gently in commiseration. Martin was looking at her now with an expression of sincere regret and worry on his face, almost as though he were afraid that her current predicament was somehow his fault.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” The poor man looked almost as upset as she felt, and for some reason she could not name Molly felt a bit of her despair lift at the thought. Apparently bad situations could be made a little less terrible if there was someone there to comfort you instead of make a sarcastic comment or hurtful observation about your weight.

With a deep breath she steadied herself and managed to say in an admirably calm voice, “It’s…it’s not your fault. It’s fine.” That was a blatant lie of course - it certainly wasn’t fine, but there was no way that she was going to let him know that. Molly was many things, but helpless had never been one of them, and she was through letting the men in her life think that about her. “I’ll just figure out how to get to Verona another way. It’s not the end of the world.”

Martin’s eyes went wide, and for a moment Molly was afraid that he had offended him in some way. But before she could ask what she had done wrong he asked in a voice full of wonder “You’re going to Verona?”

And that was how, not twenty minutes later, she found herself walking across the tarmac of the airport in order to be secreted onto a tiny charter plane headed for Rome. The lucky coincidence was almost not to be believed, but Martin had insisted that they were indeed already headed for Rome and that the plane he was flying was oh so conveniently booked by only one elderly passenger. Molly had been more than dubious at first, but after Martin had repeatedly assured her that he would be able to get her on the flight without a problem the dizzying rush of excitement and adventure had swept her away and she found now as she held his hand and hurried after him like a guilty schoolchild she could not begin to wipe the grin off of her face. This was quite likely the most ridiculous thing she had ever done, and she was loving every second of it.

There was a brief moment of danger boarding the plane when they saw that the chronically early businessman who was actually paying for this flight was already on board and situated in his seat, but thankfully he was also chronically sleepy as well and had already fallen into a deep slumber. Molly let out the breath she had been holding since she saw him sitting there, realizing a moment later that she was not only still holding Martin’s hand but had been gripping it tightly in fear. Blood rushed into her face as she looked down at their clasped hands, and her heart nearly skipped a beat when it occurred to her that Martin didn’t seem in any hurry to let go either. With an embarrassed smile he motioned that she should follow him to a seat in the back of the plane where she would hopefully be hidden from discovery. Heart racing, she followed him and sat, staring with an incredulous smile at this wonderful man who in another sudden fit of chivalry helped her into her seat with a bow.

“My lady,” he murmured quietly with a bashful grin, eyes locked with hers and her hand still clasped in his. He seemed reluctant to let go, unwilling to lose the electric contact between them that left Molly breathless with wonder and happiness. Finally though he straightened and pulled away, fingers brushing delicately over the pulse point in her wrist and leaving a trail of fire as they went. With a last, quiet smile he turned to walk slowly up the aisle of the plane, leaving a very happy, very confused Molly in his wake to wonder what on earth had just happened to her.

Source: artbylexie