#had to move from my very nice seat on da train!!! i hope you all die!!!!

[officialkendallroy]

saw way too many fucking football fans today i hope the ball explodes

[superficialdomina]

Missed connection

A/N: I wrote a little Tom fic while my next sub!Loki marinates a bit. It's angsty and a little fluffy and totally self-indulgent.

Inspired in part by @dangertoozmanykids101 and this post. I hope that's OK with her :)

Summary: Stuck in a train carriage in Italy with Tom. Angst ensues.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: Very light, thirsty smut. Stay tuned for part 2 if you want the filth.

Two Three parts - but if you like where they end up after the first one you can totally leave it here.

Part 1

You sigh, closing your book and gazing out the window of the unmoving train into the night. You should have arrived in Padua before dusk, but your train out of Venice had ground to a halt several hours ago without explanation, and had sat here, with frustrating stubbornness, in the growing darkness. 

You stretch your neck, looking around you. Your train carriage is mostly empty, and the few other passengers appear to be asleep. You envy them. It had taken several long flights to arrive in Italy, and to be trapped here on this final leg, so close to your destination, with zero information, is… infuriating.

A movement catches your eye as a tall man enters from an adjoining carriage. He moves slowly between the seats, past the sleeping occupants. You avert your eyes and pretend to concentrate on your lap, your innate introversion kicking in and insisting you avoid a conversation with a stranger. 

"Mi scusi?" 

Startled, you look up, meeting his eyes and taking in his face. Gosh, you think, surprised, he's very pretty. And... Familiar? 

"Hai un cellulare da prestarmi?"

"Non parlo Italiano," you stammer out - one of the few Italian phrases you'd learnt in preparation for your trip. "Do you speak English?"

"Oh," he smiles, blushing charmingly. "Of course. I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but - would you have a mobile phone that I could borrow?"

As soon as he switches to English, recognition washes over you like a flood. To see him out of context like this was terrifically confusing - but that voice… It was unmistakable. You’re momentarily unable to speak.

"I… my phone battery is flat," he continues, misconstruing your long pause. "May I - would you mind if I sent a message to someone?"

"Of course," you manage, as you pull your phone out from your bag. His face relaxes in relief and gratitude as he takes it from you. 

His hands, you think as you try to surreptitiously watch his nimble fingers tap the screen. By all that is holy, his HANDS. As though he heard you, he lifts his left hand to nervously run it back through his loose curls, while continuing to text with his other thumb. 

Maybe I'm dreaming, you think cautiously. I fell asleep on the train and I'm… You pinch your leg. Nope. Hurts.

"Thank you," he says with a long exhale, looking down at you and handing back your phone. "I wasn't expecting to be stuck here…"

You can't help laughing. "Me neither, obviously," you smile. He smiles back, his beautiful lips parting slightly to give you a glimpse of his perfect teeth. 

"Well - thank you," he says again, turning to move back the way he had come. 

"Ah -" you begin, slightly confused. "What if - I mean, should you wait for them to reply?" You try to keep your voice low for the sake of the other occupants of the carriage in their happy slumber. 

His eyes run over the book in your lap, where your small clip-on reading lamp is casting odd shadows. 

"I'd hate to interrupt you further," he says, the question clear in his tone.

"Uh - it would be nice to have the company," you lie. As if that was ever true. Although this time… He narrows his eyes at you briefly; without thinking, you extend your hand. "I'm y/n."

He bites his lower lip, making your stomach flutter. And not just your stomach, if you're honest. But he takes your hand and shakes it. "Tom," he says simply.

You swallow hard at the feel of his long fingers grasping your palm and brushing your wrist. He thinks I don't recognise him. 

"I - I know who you are," you laugh uncomfortably, unable to hold his gaze as he takes the seat opposite you, his thick thighs spread wide. Invitingly.

"Oh," he says again. And again with that subtle blush. Is he doing that on cue? "Well - it's nice to meet you, y/n."

There's a brief, thoroughly awkward silence, before he expertly transitions to well-practised small talk. “You’re clearly not Italian,” he says, mocking his earlier language faux pas. "How is it that you find yourself on an immobile train in the Italian countryside?"

You exhale, suddenly aware that you'd been holding your breath. Don’t look directly at him. "I'm here for a conference," you reply, making eye contact with his forehead and speaking a little too fast. “In Padua. I just flew into Venice from Toronto this afternoon.” You want to ask him why he’s here - alone? - but it feels too personal. Don’t interview the poor man.

“Toronto?” He asks. “You don’t sound Canadian, either.” Gods above, his face is so… expressive. He blinks slowly and you catch his glorious eyelashes as they flit against his skin. His broad chest expands with every inhale, straining against his tight, white shirt. 

“Oh- no, I’m Australian,” Christ, could you stop sounding so fucking flustered? “But I live in Canada.” He pauses as though waiting for you to continue, even though you were sure you’d finished talking. “Just for the last few years. For work.” He sounds so… Interested. As though the inane nonsense that is inarticulately gushing from your mouth is all he wants to hear. Gosh, he really is charming. What a strange super power. Why am I still talking?

“What do you-” he begins, but he is interrupted by the ping of your phone.

“That must be for you,” you murmur, scrambling to pick it up. “Oh - no, sorry, just my husband.” A shadow crosses his face fleetingly. Keen to get a reply and get back to his seat, you think. 

You flick a quick text back to your spouse. Still on the train - no movement. Nothing eventful. Well, that was a big fat lie, you muse to yourself, glancing at the stunning man sitting opposite you.

“You’re married?” he asks, as you return your phone to your bag. 

“I - yes,” you reply, absently touching the wedding ring on your finger and trying not to think about the long years since your husband had made your body ache like the man sitting before you. A man who had barely even touched you. 

“Do you like it?” He asks. You are momentarily confused. “Canada, I mean?” 

“Yes. Sometimes. Mostly.” You take a deep breath, once again aware of the arousal he is stirring in you. Make sentences. “I miss home often.” Another awkward pause that you fight to fill, trying not to stare at his long Greek nose or the shadows cast by his ridiculous cheekbones. “They all think I’m British - Canadians, I mean,” you continue, hating yourself for the banality of your small talk. “They all ask me what part of England I’m from. I tell them ‘the very far south’.”

He laughs at that, throwing his head back and issuing a throaty expression of mirth that makes you quiver between your legs. Are… are my pants damp? You wonder silently, both quietly horrified and mildly interested at your body’s reaction to the close proximity of this beautiful man, and the inexplicable circumstances that have led you here.

“Well, you don’t exactly sound like Steve Irwin,” he laughs, eyes glittering in the low light.

“And you don’t sound like Eliza Doolittle,” you quip, before bringing your hand to cover your mouth, mortified. 

“I’m so sorry. I - I’m lousy at small talk. And I’m… A little awed to be speaking to you.” Ugh. Gushing. How unattractive.

But he continues to smile that dazzling smile that touches his lovely eyes so easily. “It’s quite alright,” he says gently. “Most people are.” The words are arrogant, but his tone suggests something altogether different. Is he… Uncomfortable?

He looks briefly out the window into the darkness. Stars have materialised in the inky sky. 

“Skip the small talk, then,” he offers, turning back to face you, voice deep and sultry, eyes piercing and intense. You press your thighs together to relieve the growing tension between them. No question now - you were wet with arousal. “Tell me something… Substantial.” He shifts in his seat and you try desperately not to look at his crotch. Just don’t stand up before he leaves, you tell yourself. His eyes slide to the book next to you. “What are you reading?” 

You also glance at the book on your seat, remembering where you had been mere minutes prior, in that previous life before Tom had first spoken to you. It’s telling that he considers that a substantial question, you think. You swallow. “Ah - War Lord by Bernard Cornwell,” you say, picking it up.

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“I - not really,” you admit, passing your eyes over the cover. Once again, his face encourages you to keep talking. “It’s the last in a long series. I was probably done with them a while ago but - it’s hard not to finish something you’ve come so far with...” You’ve run out of words again, and he’s still watching you…

You awkwardly clear your throat. “What are you reading?”

He laughs and reaches his hand into a large inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a simple, slightly battered-looking book. 

 “The Dispossessed,” he replies, his eyes sparkling, “by Ursula Le Guin.” His middle finger strokes the spine lovingly. “It’s beautiful. I read it every few years,” he confesses. “It’s a commentary on materialism and capitalism… and it’s also a thought piece about time - time as a product of mathematics and physics but also philosophy and ethics. But mostly,” he finally pauses for breath, “it’s a love story. Love that transcends space and time-”

“I’ve read it,” you interrupt him, and can’t help laughing at the sheer boyish joy that has come over his face as he spoke. “I - it’s one of my favourites, too.” 

The wide, open-mouthed smile he gives you then transforms his entire face, and you suddenly feel that it is the first genuine expression he has given you. What just happened?

“Really?” He is suddenly abuzz with little-boy energy. Puppy energy. “I don’t meet many people who have read it. It’s a seriously underrated Le Guin book.”

“Yes!” you agree heartily. “She’s so renowned for the Earthsea chronicles but… The Dispossessed is so complex and… beautiful. And yes, a truly touching love story. Did you know that Shevek is modelled on Oppenheimer?” 

“I had heard that, but he always made me think of Feynman.”

“Me too!” You laugh enthusiastically, before remembering your sleeping companions and lowering your voice again. “It has, I think, my favourite line ever written.” He raises his eyebrows. You quote, “You can go home again, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.”

“That’s your favourite line ever written?”

“Yes!” you say again, mildly embarrassed. “It’s… it’s…” You search for the words, forcing yourself to form logical sentences again. “We believe that time is something real, that life is what’s happening outside ourselves. But time - life - is within us.” You lean forward in your seat, willing him to understand your point. “You know - you can’t step twice in the same river, because neither you nor the river are the same. Live now, because you won’t be here again.”

He nods. “We all get two lives, and the second life begins when we realise we only get one.”

You exhale, suddenly aware of the thrill that is coursing through your body. Careful, you tell yourself, then chastise yourself for such a foolish notion. But this one might hurt when you land. “Yes. Exactly.”

“I also have a favourite line in it,” he offers, hesitantly. “Maybe not ever written,” he teases you gently, “but…” 

With surprise, you watch him open the book still in his hands to a dog-eared page. He reads. “If you can see a thing whole, it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. The way to see how beautiful the Earth is, is to see it from the moon.” 

He looks up at you expectantly, his whole energy shifted, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as though waiting for your approval. But you are momentarily stunned. He’s… Sad. 

“Is that…” You stop, knowing that your question is far too personal, but unsure if you can carry on the conversation without asking it. You’ll never be here again, you remind yourself, and stumble on. “Is that how you feel? All… Dirt and rocks?”

He gazes back at you, his smile touched with a hint of melancholy. “Sometimes. I wonder if my life is more beautiful from a distance than from the inside.” 

You consider your words carefully before we speak. “Don’t we all feel that way? Our lives are more perfect, more interesting, on paper, than they are in reality? Only the people closest to us see how messy we really are. Maybe no one knows us as well as ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he sighs. “I often have to remind myself that this is the life I chose, not the life that chose me.” You stare at him, astonished not only by the words he is saying, but by the brazen honesty of what he is sharing, and by the full 180 degree shift in his mood in the last few moments. Volatile. 

“Anyway,” he smiles, almost convincingly, as if to say, that’s enough self pity. “Your turn. Marriage? How is it?”

The question takes you thoroughly by surprise. “M… Marriage?” He doesn’t speak, but raises his eyebrows as he continues to look at you with that unusual intensity… It is strangely intimate. “That doesn’t really seem like a fair question when I’m staring at Tom Hiddleston sitting opposite me.” You groan inwardly, wishing you hadn’t said it aloud. 

He chuckles. “Close your eyes, then.” 

You stare at him open-mouthed for a second, the simple suggestion ringing through your ears like a command. Your core clenches and you feel the slick in your panties practically gushing down your inner thighs. You swallow hard.

But to be fair to your husband, you do as he suggests. You immediately feel incredibly exposed. “It’s…” You pause, thinking; remembering. “You know when you take a long drive, and somewhere in between towns the radio signal drops out, and there’s nothing but static?” To your surprise, words begin to pour out of you, some kind of overflow triggered by the unexpected vulnerability. “And there’s nothing you can do but keep driving, and trust that you’ll get signal again when you reach the next town?”

You open your eyes again. He has leaned forwards towards you, elbows resting on his spread thighs. His eyebrows knit gently, and he cocks his head slightly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well… sometimes it’s like that,” you finish lamely, embarrassed at your familiarity with him. 

His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips as he continues to gaze at you with his now familiar, interested intensity. “But you do trust it? That you’ll find the signal again?”

“Mostly, yes,” you reply quietly, meeting his eyes properly as a tingly powerlessness comes over your own body. Breathe, you concentrate, acutely aware of how close he is.

In the next second, two things happen simultaneously. With a sudden jolt, the train rumbles to life and begins to move again, light in the carriage flickering as power is briefly redistributed to the engine. You both gasp in surprise at the unexpected movement.

When your eyes meet again, the spell is broken.

In the same moment, your phone pings a second time. You pull it out, handing it to him when you don’t recognise the number. He swallows, a muscle in his jaw quivering. He takes the phone, smiling stiffly and nodding mechanically as he reads the message; he taps a short reply, then deletes the thread. 

He stands as he hands it back to you. “I think we are not far from your destination,” he smiles, abruptly as poised and controlled as when he had first entered the carriage. The suddenness of the transition from friend to stranger leaves you feeling disoriented. “Thank you for your company, y/n. It’s been a pleasure.” 

You take a breath and lift your chin. “Likewise,” you smile. He nods to you before turning away, and doesn’t look back as he leaves the carriage.

Damn, you think. I didn’t even ask where he's going.

Continued in Part 2

Hope y'all don't mind the tags.

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[13uswntimagines]

Secret Santa (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Reader is in the military and surprises her wife and daughter (with a little help from Preath). Merry Christmas from @literaryhedgehog and Me!!!

“Little bit still hasn’t told you what she wants for Christmas yet?” Kelley asked, munching on some pretzels and hummus.  

Alex rolled her eyes sliding into a seat next to her. “No, she utterly convinced that it won’t come true if she tells anyone but Santa.” 

“Didn't she write a letter? Why didn’t you just take a peek?” Tobin interjected, sitting on Kelley’s other side. Her fiancé had been so excited to have her niece for the day. 

“She mailed it to god knows where with Christen before I could,” Alex sighed, shaking her head. She had been fine with the whole mailing letters thing (actually watching your four-year old try to write out something heartfelt in blue crayon was kinda adorable), but then Camren had insisted on mailing it herself. Alex felt a little bad for the person in Antarctica who was getting the random letter. 

“Damn,” Kelley huffed, blowing her cheeks out, trying to drum up ideas. 

“Yeah, apparently it’s a Press family tradition or whatever, and Chris did it because Y/n isn’t here to. If she was she at least could have curbed some of her enthusiasm long enough to take a picture of the letter.” Alex grumbled, chewing thoughtfully on a pretzel. Your big sister had been picking up a lot of slack while you were away with the SEALs, but it just wasn’t the same as having you there. 

“We hired a Santa, so just listen to whatever she tells him,” Tobin shrugged, a look that Alex didn’t recognize crossing her features. 

“And pray to god it gets here overnight,” Kelley snorted. Hopefully whatever Camren wanted could be found at a local Walmart. 

 *****

The holiday party was in full bustle. There were benefits to doing training in Florida, so while Camren still had her heart set on snow for christmas, the adults had strung the outdoor tent with string lights and decorated it with holly and mistletoe. Camren had promised to eat at least two bites of every food there -- even the healthy ones that looked weird (her words not Alex’s) -- before she ate too many of Emily’s double chocolate chunk brownies, and so Alex was feeling rather proud of herself. She and her daughter were both there, dressed up, and only 15 minutes late for the party-- not bad for single parenting skills. Maybe after Camren was done talking to Santa, Carlie or Lindsey could be persuaded to babysit for a bit so Alex could go introduce herself to that lovely bottle of merlot she saw hiding in the corner. 

Alex was surprised with how comfortable her daughter seemed on Santa’s lap. Camren was a bit nervous walking over, but it was nothing compared to her fear last year, when she had bawled until you eventually gave up and held her behind the poor man. Perhaps it had to do with how tenderly the poor suited person seemed to hold the small child, and the little glimmer in their eyes. . 

Santa’s eyes met Alex’s for a split second, and the sense of security the slight contact brought her was slightly alarming. They looked so familiar and sent warm tingles through her chest. 

“Did you get my letter?” The little girl asked, drawing the bearded one’s attention back to her. Alex bit her lip, there was no way this random stranger got the letter addressed to Rudolph at the North Pole. 

The Santa nodded, their features softening. “I did. It seems you were very concerned about your mama getting her gift?”

The little girl nodded rapidly. “How do you know where to take it, if she’s on top secret missions all da time?” Her brow furrowed, “what if she doesn’t have a chimney to hang her stocking on?”

“I just know. Remember I know if you’ve been good or bad, or if you move. I promise she’ll get everything she wants. Now back to you. What do you want for Christmas?” Santa tried to explain. 

The little girl thought for a moment, her finger tapping on her chin, before she leaned up to cup the person’s ear. She whispered a few words, leaned back to look the bearded person in the eye. The (very fake) white beard at the top of the red coat bobbed up and down in a nod, and Alex saw a sparkle in their eye as their lips twitched above it. 

“Well that’s quite the order.” 

“Pwease? Its not that tall, and It’s the only thing I really want,” Camren pouted, pulling the puppy dog eyes that never ceased to make her parents melt. This was important, and if she only got one real chance to talk to the person who could make it happen, she wanted them to know just how much she wanted it. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” the Santa said, nodding seriously and stroking the beard as Camren jumped up and ran back to Alex. 

“What did you ask for?” Alex whispered. Good grief, wasn’t the whole point of hiring a Santa to hear what the munchkin wanted?

“Can’t say. Want it to happen,” Camren whispered back, twirling slightly as she buried herself in the hem of her mom’s skirt. This was going to be the best Christmas ever. 

****

Alex smiled widely as the Santa pulled another wrapped present from the gaudy red bag. It was a nice spin on their usual tradition, and she just hoped Pino didn’t get her for a secret Santa. That woman forgot every year, and Alex’s name hadn’t come up yet and that bag looked suspiciously empty. No wait, there was one- nope, that was Beckey’s present from Alyssa. Maybe there was a gift card in there somewhere? Alex looked down at Camren, who despite practically nodding off in Sonnet’s arms an hour ago, had woken up during the secret santa exchange. She was now sitting on the ground playing with the toy horses, blind to her surroundings.

“Hey, um Kelley? Who was running the secret santa exchange again?” Alex whispered, grabbing her arm. “I think my person forgot to get me a present.”

“What?” Kelley, turned to her shocked. “I think maybe Tobin was in charge this year, we’ll ask her if someone wrote down who your person was.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Christen’s voice broke in. Alex and Kelley turned to look at her and Tobin, who were standing with a very confused Emily.  “I’m really sorry, we just didn’t get a chance to wrap your gift. You’ll get it at the end of the party.” 

“Isn’t it like against the rules for Christen to get Alex since they actually spend Christmas together every year?” Sonnett whined. If she couldn’t buy presents for Lindsey, and Sam couldn’t do it for Kristie then that totally wasn’t fair.Sister-in-law and fiance-of-sister-in-law definitely had an unfair advantage on the ”knowing what presents to buy” front. She had to buy Jullie’s gift, and had just settled on some tea-rex patterned socks and a starbucks gift card. 

Lindsey glared in her direction. “Can it disonny,” she wasn’t about to let her girlfriend mess up a surprise that had been 6 months in the making. 

“It’s fine Chris, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Alex smiled sadly. 

“I mean that would have been cruel since Camren has been campaigning pretty hard for your present,” Christen snorted. It was all your daughter could talk about. She had even harassed every Santa she saw while they went Christmas shopping, and wrote several letters (that she forwarded to you) about the issue. 

“She told you what she wants, and you didn’t tell me?” Alex asked exasperated. She had been fighting with your daughter for a month to know what she actually wanted. Why on earth would she tell her aunt but not her mom? She was going to have to have a conversation with Camren about how Santa had different rules from wishing on a star or a birthday candle. Namely that she should tell her mom what she wanted!

Christen shrugged, a smile pulling at her lips, though Alex didn’t know what she was so amused about. “Well, it was for you, so I get a pass,”

“I for one think that Christen’s present is totally on point, even if it’s wrapped in ugly, sweaty red velvet,” A new voice joined the conversation, just as arms wrapped snugly around Alex’s waist. 

Alex froze, her eyes going wide and her mouth opening and closing several times. 

You chucked from behind her, spinning her around so you were face to face for the first time in almost a year. 

“Hi love.”

“Holy shit,” Alex breathed. Her hands reached up to touch your cheeks, the sense of touch confirming what she couldn’t trust her eyes to see. 

“Surprise,” You mumbled, leaning in and finally connecting your lips. You sighed into the kiss, thoroughly enjoying the way they moved together, and the taste of your wife. She impatiently pulled down the beard when you paused to breathe, and your hands found her hips, pulling her closer, while her fingers tangled in that baby hairs at the base of your neck. “Let’s do that again,” you said, your breath fanning against her lips before she pulled you back in. You had an awful lot of time to make up for. 

“Why is mommy kissing Santa Claus,” Camren asked from somewhere below your feet. You were fairly certain you heard one of your wife’s teammates explaining in the background that Santa left a little while ago, and Mama had just dressed like him to surprise Mommy. You were a tad busy to explain anything right now.

[msilwrites]

(A 3AM Update) A True Gentleman, Chapter 21 - A jealous husband?

A/N: Chapter 21 is up! Isaac confronts Diana, like a jealous husband! By the way, Henry, Diana's cousin face claim is 'Henry Cavill', and Sam McLean's face claim is Sam Heughan.

Oh, before I forget, if you don't like the story, please do move on to others, the internet has lots of them. Please don't hurt writers, ya? Good! so without further ado...

TWENTY-ONE

A jealous husband

"Diana!" her cousin, Henry approaches her. "That was a stellar performance!" he compliments.

Every time Henry and she are seen together, people often mistake them for siblings. The blue cold eyes, thick eyebrows, strong jawline, and dark hair were the signature that belonged to their family.

"Thank you, Henry!" was her grateful reply. "But I know why you are here for, go and lead the way!" she says, as he leads her to where her father sat. She knew what Henry approached her for. It was time for her father's interrogation and lengthy sermon.

Francis watched Henry, followed by Diana, approaching him where he sat.

"Relax Uncle..." Henry says, as he taps his uncle's shoulder, telling him to listen instead of scolding Diana. He then walks away to give the two space.

He took a deep breath before turning to his daughter. " Why don't you take a seat..." he offers, patting the empty space beside him, which she took.

"First of all, why are you singing at a wedding?" he tried to sound calm instead of being confrontational.

" I was trying to earn money to buy a 3D Printer," was her direct answer.

" Why?"

"I'm trying to build a small workshop studio, and I need a 3d printer..."

"Oh..." Francis was taken aback, he didn't expect his daughter to have such plans. "But what happened to the money you got from the sale of your old penthouse with Jesse?"

"That, I'm keeping it to the side. I plan to use it to buy real estate and most probably have the place rented for passive income. If not, I'll turn it into the workshop studio. I planned to save money, but I think I'd earn more if I were to rent the place out."

His eyes widened in disbelief, was this still the same Diana whom he met a few weeks ago? No! This Diana has ambition, plans and direction. She was actively taking charge of her life. "Wow! I did not expect that... That is actually a good plan"

Diana smiled and just nodded.

"Do you need help?" he offers, sincerely this time, without a hint of being condescending.

"Maybe? From time to time, Thank you! Da!" Diana says gratefully. "Your advice and input would be helpful from time to time" she adds.

"That was a stellar performance by the way!" Francis complements his daughter. " Those wedding songs reminds me of a time when I was..." he said trying to find the word.

"Hopeful? Yes, I did feel the same..." she admits to her father.

Francis sighs. " You know, I really did love your mother. It may have not gone well for the both of us, but not once did I regret loving her,"

Diana looks at her father, surprised at his sudden confession. Not once did her father open up to her about this issue.

"Why?!"

"Why what?"

"Da! She hurt you!" she exclaims.

"Yes, she did... and I may have done things that I shouldn't have, but what happened to us in the past, is what makes us who we are now. We grow and become wiser,"

"I guess you do have a good point..." she agrees. It made her think about her past abusive relationships, and what it thought her. Though it was terrible, it made her learn and it made her wiser.

"So how did you exactly end up here?"

"That's a really long story..."

" We have a lot of time,"

She began her story (omitting some parts of course) and told him about the music director Aedan looking for an alto-soprano which led her to where she is now.

"I see... I am glad you're able to use your classical training, anyways, when is the date of your performance?" he inquired.

"Why?"

"I want to see it of course!" he declares.

**********

"I see trees of green. Red roses too, I see them bloom. For me and you. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world..." Diana opens the dance floor for everyone, with the song 'What a wonderful world'. The strings followed, in harmony with her voice.

Couples, young and old, approached the dance floor and began dancing to the sweet tune.

The night was about to end, and she was grateful that her performance went well. Hopefully, she would also perform well with the orchestra at the outdoor theatre.

"I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do They're really saying I love you..."

She scanned the area and saw her cousin, Henry, being surrounded by girls. She stopped her from rolling her eyes, knowing that he was a known ladies man, even since they were young. On one side was her father who seemed to be enjoying himself, chatting with others. The atmosphere felt jolly that she swore she'd try to catch up with Henry or talk some more with her father after finishing the song.

"I hear babies cry. I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll ever know. And I think to myself... What a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself... What a wonderful world. Ooh, yes I think to myself... What a wonderful world..." and with the last verse, Diana closes the song and the audience applauded. She smiled and thought, that it was still somehow a wonderful world despite everything she had gone through, there was still things she was thankful for.

With a sigh, she gives a toast to the newly married couple, and then turned to the quintet and thanked them, which gained her another set of 'Thank you's coming from them.

She looks around and found the bar, wanting a cold drink, preferably a beer. It's been weeks since she had anything cold and gassy. It wouldn't hurt from time to time to have an ice-cold beer after a long day of singing.

Wasting no time, she requested a pint of ice-cold craft beer on tap from the bar-tender, and he quickly poured her one large pint, its surface bubbling.

"Good job out there, you earned it, enjoy!" the bartender says, before moving to other requests.

"Thanks!" was her response.

She looked around trying to find Henry or her father in the crowd, whilst drinking her glass. However, before she could even make a move. Her father had already gone up to the podium, about to start his 'godfather' speech and before she could even look for Henry, a handsome guy had already sat beside her and tried to engage her in a conversation.

"Hello..." was his greeting, his voice deep. She looked at the colour of his kilt's Tartan, and immediately knew which family he is from.

"Wait! your name is probably something McLean!" she declares.

"Oh! wait, are you a Scott too?! Well, I am Sam McLean..." he said, stretching his hand for a handshake which she gladly took. She felt a little confident today, and talking to a handsome man isn't so bad thing to do to pass the time. Unless he actually is an asshole otherwise. She already has an escape plan.

"You may call me, tonight..." was a flirty yet witty reply from her, causing Sam to laugh. "Or you may address me as, Diana"

"Well, Diana, that was a stellar performance throughout..." he compliments.

"Thank you! I'm glad you like it,"

"You have a very nice voice! So... may I buy you a drink?!" he offers.

"Of course! Or you could get me food since I haven't had my fill yet..." she said sheepishly, not having eaten anything yet.

"Oh! of course! what do you want to eat? I'll get it for you!" he offers.

" Cake" she implores, placing both her hands together as if praying.

"Of course, I'll be right back!" he said, immediately taking a small slice on a plate for her.

"There you go! Enjoy!" he says, pushing the small plate to her.

"Thank You, Sam!" she chuckles at the mention of his name. It was the same as the pseudonym she used when she wrote those 'love' letters to herself. "Thank you. I'd say 'God Bless you!', but it looks like He already did." was her flirtatious reply followed by a wink.

Sam bit his lips and laughed. He didn't know how to respond to that. "Thanks... I guess..." he holds his laughter, and clears her throat, "So Diana, what do you do? Besides singing? "

"I am independently impecunious..." was her answer.

Sam throws his head back laughing, knowing that he had found a hilarious person and the night will definitely not be boring.

"Enough about me, Sam! Let's talk about how attractive you are!" she adds.

Sam takes a deep breath but ended up laughing once again. " You're too funny for words!" However, before he could even say more...

"Sammy, laddie, hands-off! that is my daughter you're flirting with!" Francis chastises Sam from the podium after he finished his speech, causing everyone to turn their attention to Diana and Sam at the bar, upon finding out that she is Francis' daughter.

"Well, nice to meet you Diana!" he says. "Yikes..." and slowly backs away from her. It didn't matter how beautiful she is to him, she was Francis's Rutherford's daughter and there is no way she would want to incur her father's wrath.

"Sam? wait!" she says, perplexed at his sudden change.

**********

"Sam is an international playboy, he isn't the ideal man to date!" Henry says as he fiddled with his phone. Seated beside him inside the car is his cousin Diana, whom he ended up sending back home instead, as his Uncle, Francis, still had to stay at the wedding reception.

"Oho! You're one to talk Henry! " Diana chuckles, knowing her cousin's reputation.

"It can't be helped..." was his response.

"Should I tell the girls who chase after you, the same thing you told me?"

"It won't work... they'll chase after me more!" he declares, and both of them erupted in laughter, including their chauffeur in the front seat of the car, at how true the statement was.

"Well, aren't you afraid I'd chase Sam more?" she asks.

"You won't" was his quick reply.

"Because life has already knocked some sense out of you..." was his confident statement, aware of what Diana had gone through, all those years.

"I guess you're right," she sighs and smiles at herself, turning her attention to the view outside the car, whilst a classical piano rendition of 'Moon River' played inside the vehicle, making it a relaxing atmosphere.

"Lady Rutherford, we're here..." their chauffeur announces, and he gets out of the 'Ghost' to open the car for her.

"Thank you, Higgins!" she says, referring to Henry's chauffeur who opened the car door for her.

Henry followed after, alighting at the other side of the car. "Let me send you to your door..." he offers.

"Yes, walk me there," she says, as Henry walked beside her.

"We should have lunch sometime, eh? It's been a long time since I caught up with you!"

"Yes, we should do that" she agrees.

" If you don't mind, Mum wants to catch up with you too, can she come along?"

"Of course Aunt Minerva is more than welcome! How long has it been?!" she realizes suddenly that she had met her immediately family for years now since she started her relationship with Jesse, that was no longer the case now.

"It's set then" he declares, trying to find a spot inside his phone's calendar. "I'll set the time next weekend..."

"Alright! Well here's my door" she says turning to him to give him a quick hug.

Henry gladly returns her embrace " I'm glad you're in a better place now!" he adds, giving her shoulder a squeeze as an affirmation. "Well, I have to go, I have an early day tomorrow!"

However, before Henry could leave, the door opens to reveal Isaac, glaring at him.

"I'd normally say get a room, but this isn't a hotel" was the first thing Isaac said, the moment he opened the door, and 'caught' Diana, and some man, embracing each other in front of his door.

Henry looked at him puzzled, and when he realized that Isaac got the wrong idea about them, he released Diana from his arms. "Eww..." he grimaced and quickly turns around and gave a two-finger salute before he left "See you, Diana!"

Diana took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to burp before entering the house. She had four large pints of beer and 2 slices of cake which made her feel bloated, which made her feel regretful going on a drinking spree.

"Diana?" Isaac called, which she almost didn't notice because she was busy nursing the bloatedness.

"Mmmmm?"

"Remember you had 10 things you have to do for me?"

Diana just nods and covers her mouth, trying to burp as silent as she can. "Yes..."

"Well, I'm gonna use 1, let's have a talk..." was his stern reply.

"Dr Skovgaard? can we do this tomorrow?" she pleads, as she was bloated and tired.

"No, because I don't know where you will disappear to again..." he reprimands.

She sighs as she follows him to the dining room where a long session of scolding and preaching awaits her.

She sits down, resigned to her situation and prepared herself for Isaac's long preaching.

"Diana, you often disappear and reappear to I do not know where to, it's like I'm living with a Ghost. And when I message you, you do not respond..."

"But I do respond!" she reasons.

"Yes, two days later..."

"Oh... hehehe... I'm busy, sorry, please don't be mad at me" she apologizes, and laughs softly, struggling to also hide her drunkenness.

"Busy with what exactly??!!" he inhales sharply.

"Uhhh.... you know, things? work? earning a living?" she says a little sluggish. "You know, I gotta earn my keep..." the Scottish accent of hers, starting to come out.

"Men!?" he adds.

"Ahahaha yes... men" she giggles. "I'm not really busy with them, they're busy with me, which in turn... takes up a portion of my time, they're handsome, eye candies! So I guess it's worth the time..." she laughs.

"Unbelievable!" he throws his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Dr Skovgaard, what are you really scolding me for?" she says, trying to suppress another burp.

He sighs " First, you disappear to who knows where and then reappear a few days later! You leave my message on 'read' and respond to them a day or two later as if I'm a weird guy you have been avoiding, and then you came home late, drunk! In the arms of another man! Do you know how I felt, do you know worried I was?!" he stressed out.

Diana stares at the tall ceiling and then laughs at the realizations " You make me sound like a stray cat who just comes home to eat!"

"I never said anything like that." he shakes his head in disapproval.

"I know... I'm just visualizing..." she adds, waving it off.

"Diana, you're not taking any of this seriously-"

She didn't know if it was drunkenness, but she felt a little brave, and without warning, got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around Isaac. "Alright, my love... I'm sorry, so sorry, I promise not to do it again!" she says, as her arms tighten around his waist.

Isaac, caught off-guard, stood there, frozen, unsure of how to react. "Diana?"

Diana just laughed, as she brought her hands to his cheeks. If anyone were to see them right now, it would look like they were a couple making up, after having a banter. "Oh, Dr Skovgaard... you sound just like a jealous husband!" she exclaims and laughs at his face. "You know I'd normally kiss you, but I'm not your beau..." she adds, tapping his cheek. "So, let's end this argument, and call it a day! I'm sorry, alright?! Good Night!" she says, kissing his cheek.

Isaac jolted in surprise due to her actions. He felt his cheeks, starting to get warm.

She releases Isaac from her embrace and sluggishly walked back upstairs, to her room, whilst singing a funny Scottish folk song and laughing halfway.

He sits down for a moment to collect himself and tried to process what had just happened. Trying to make sense of the feeling he currently has in his chest.

A/N: I have most probably made some grammatical errors, here and there... so I'd do some soft editing. I hope you enjoyed this one! I would also love to hear from you in the comments below.

[wanderinginksplot]

Something with hondo and aurra?

Ahh! My first request! Thank you so much! It got away from me a little bit, but here’s a fic about the first time Hondo and Aurra met - and why Aurra has even less of a moral code than most bounty hunters.

The Meeting

The room was quiet, tense, but Hondo was having a wonderful time. He was sitting comfortably at the table, across from Jango Fett and his apprentice Zam Wesell. Despite the unease hanging in the air - a common feeling when more than one bounty hunter was gathering in one area - Hondo had already drained one cup of highly-intoxicating brew and was working his way through another. Rather than risk boredom, Hondo decided to make conversation with his silent companions.

“And how are you enjoying your apprenticeship, young one?” Hondo asked politely. He was always polite - except when he was rude. His dear mother had always taught him that manners were the mark of someone in complete charge of a situation, which Hondo always was.

“I’m learning a great deal,” Zam Wesell said after glancing at the fully-armored Jango Fett for approval to answer.

Well, there was not much he could say to that, but never let it be said that Hondo Ohnaka let silence live unbroken!

“How is the job going, Jango?” he asked instead, draining his second cup.

Fett shrugged. “I let them take bio samples and they deposit credits into my account. Easiest job I’ve ever taken.”

That did sound simple. Hondo was filled with jealousy, though he took care to keep it from his expression. A face as handsome as his shouldn’t be marred with such an unsightful emotion.

“Ah, but I’ve heard you have been taking other jobs as well,” he said, wagging a finger at Fett. “The word around the Outer Rim is that you’ve been a busy man.”

“Always good to keep your skills sharp,” Fett said evasively. “No job lasts forever.”

“True, too true!” Hondo agreed loudly. “Keep that in mind, young Wesell! The best bounty hunters-”

“The best bounty hunters don’t take advice from pirates,” Fett finished, speaking over Hondo. Wesell nodded as if this were the best advice she had ever received. Hondo, on the other hand, was insulted.

“Ach! Tch! I can only hope you do not teach such nonsense to young Boba! He must learn to listen to his godfather if I am to apprentice him someday.”

“I’d better be dead if you try to apprentice my son, pirate,” Fett growled. “And you are not Boba’s godfather.”

“And where is the man you thought would be a better guardian than me, hmm? Late, as always,” Hondo said petulantly.

“Keep yer shirt on, Ohnaka,” ordered the rough voice of Cad Bane, shortly before he rounded the corner and narrowed his red Duros eyes in Hondo’s direction. “An’ I’ve told ya a hundred times: I got no interest in bein’ da brat’s godfather.”

Hondo turned victoriously to Fett. “I would never call my godson a brat.”

“Stars,” Fett muttered. Before Hondo could blink, the Mandalorian had a blaster in his hand. Only a second later, Wesell had one aimed as well.

Hondo turned, alarm coursing through his body, and found himself looking at a young Palliduvan female. She was also holding a blaster, though her strengths clearly came from confidence and bravado rather than skill. 

Hondo could relate.

“Who’d you bring along, Bane?” Fett asked sharply.

“Her name’s Sing. She’s been workin’ as a bounty hunter in some of da remote systems for a couple-a years. Already built herself a nice reputation,” Bane explained, glancing back in Sing’s direction. “Put it away, kid. Yer outclassed. That’s Jango Fett, one-a da best bounty hunters in da galaxy.”

Hondo cleared his throat and Bane stared at him for a moment. 

“An’ dats Zam Wesell, Fett’s apprentice.”

Undaunted, Hondo cleared his throat again and Bane grimaced, the tubes attached to his cheeks moving oddly with the expression. “An’ dat’s Ohnaka, a worthless pirate Fett keeps around for da entertainment value.”

Sing holstered her blaster while Hondo made noises of outrage.

Fett, having holstered his own blaster, ignored Hondo completely. “Why is she here?”

“Now, is that any way to treat a guest?” Hondo asked, clicking his tongue disparagingly. “Come in, come in! Take a seat. What can we do for you?”

She narrowed green eyes at Hondo. “I don’t need anything from you, pirate.”

Hondo made more outraged noises, but moved to pour the ill-tempered Sing a drink anyway. Bane chuckled at her venomous response, and a smile passed over Wesell’s face, but Fett was unamused. “What do you need, Sing?”

“Bane says I need a mentor,” she said brashly, taking a seat at the table and swigging at the drink Hondo handed her.

“Does he, now?” Fett drawled. “Just so happens, I already have an apprentice.”

Sing’s gaze slid over to Wesell and she scoffed. “I can tell you right now that I’m better than her.”

“Wesell,” Fett said simply.

Wesell’s face changed smoothly, rapidly, and an exact copy of Sing was sitting by Fett’s side a moment later. “I can tell you right now that I’m better than her,” the copy said in a precise mimicry of Sing’s confident smirk.

“Ever met a Clawdite?” Fett asked, not waiting for Sing to answer. “There’s a lot you don’t know and I don’t have the patience to teach someone so obviously green.”

“I haven’t been green in a long time,” Sing said, the confidence clear in her strident voice. “I might not know how to identify every species in the galaxy, but I know how to capture or kill them.”

“Without getting killed, yourself?” Fett shook his head. “You walked into a den of unknown bounty hunters with only one weapon and it wasn’t even drawn. You put your blaster away without noticing the emergency blaster Wesell had pointed your direction since you stepped to the table, and you took a drink from that cup without checking for poison. Most importantly, you sat down with your back to half the room. Ohnaka could have put that vibroblade through your skull before you had known what happened.”

Sing whipped around to stare at Hondo, who held both hands up to show that he was not actually holding a weapon. When she turned back around, clawing reddish hair from her face, Fett had both of his dual blaster pistols drawn and aimed - one at her head and one at her chest. “And now you’d be dead.”

“Teach me,” Sing commanded.

Fett only gave a derisive laugh as he holstered his pistols again. “Why would I do that? Like I said: you’re green. Not my job to fix years of cocky mistakes.”

Hondo felt an unexpected surge of pity for the young bounty hunter. “Come now, Jango. Surely it wouldn’t be so difficult to train her? Not for a man of your skills and renown.” 

A tilt of Fett’s helmeted head was all the warning Hondo received, and he knew he was being carefully considered. “Why don’t you train her?”

“Him?” Sing asked, clearly disgusted.

“Him?” Bane asked, even more disgusted.

“Me?” Hondo asked, most disgusted of all.

“Yeah,” Fett said, satisfaction in his tone. “Get her a little less green and I’ll consider taking her on.”

“And what do I stand to gain from such a deal?” Hondo demanded. 

“I’ll make you Boba’s godfather,” Fett answered with the air of a man who had laid a perfect trap. Bane scoffed and pulled his hat a little further down over his eyes.

Hondo watched Fett for a moment through narrowed eyes and finished his third drink. “Come, Sing. We have much to do and very little time to get it done.”

Sing pushed back from the table and made to follow Hondo, a stunned look on her pale face, but Fett stopped her with a single word:

“Sing.” She turned back slightly and he crossed his arms over his armored chest. “Here’s a free piece of advice: get the karkin’ hair out of your face. A weakness like that will get you killed.”

When they were outside, Sing spoke again. Her confidence had clearly been shaken, but it was coming back. “Why did you agree to this? What does a pirate know about bounty hunting?”

“Not much,” Hondo admitted freely. “But I can teach you to be tricky and suspicious and mean. From everything I know about bounty hunters, that will be a good start. Now, come along. I have visitation rights to earn and a child to corrupt.”

“Double-cross me and I’ll kill you,” she warned, and Hondo grinned. He liked her already.

[randbwrite]

La Comtesse Chronicles Chapter 5 Part 1

Words: 1561

TW: Death, violence, blood CW: vampires, assassins

R:

His blush at her calling him “luv” was quite satisfying. Smirk widened. He was quite cute like that, hmmm, strange feeling there. Maybe this is why Arthur had fun making the ladies blush? 

Her ears were good enough to be able to hear them while she dispatched their enemies. The banter between these two suggested they were rather good friends. Good, that would make the transition easier. Certainly, it would be some time before Cal was able to make friends with the residents at the mansion, given what he had done to her. Arthur would likely be the least forgiving of them all, since he had treated her wounds personally.

<<Yes, I am one. Figured out yet I haven’t exactly aged since you got here?>>

Ah, now there was the answer to a question she had. She had suspected as much but left such things to the proper time.  Good to know she was escorting two vampires rather than a human and newly sired vampire. Next question would be who his sire was, but that would have to wait. 

They made their way through the citadel, she dispatching anyone that stood in their way. Even in the council room, she had worked with surgical speed and accuracy. Now, they stood outside what remained of the assassin’s league. She turned around and listened intently to both of them.

<<You will have my unwavering loyalty for the rest of my life, this I swear.>>

“I thank thee for such an expression of devotion, brave sir knight. Remember though, I am no queen, my domain is but a small part of the world. And to answer your question, I can tell by the way you speak. I remember the courts of old.”

<<So dramatic! But yeah, what he said. Obviously, I don’t have an issue not fighting on the side of the angels, but if there were any such thing, I’d say you come the closest. Avenging angel, maybe.>>

Laughter, this time short and to the point, more like a scoff but without the derision. A somber tone and expression took hold. “You will learn soon enough that I am no angel, I have never deserved such admiration. An angel of death more than an avenging angel, darkness and despair is all that has followed me for hundreds of years. There is a reason that I am called to the battlefield, and it’s not to make the place art worthy. But, if you wish to think of me as such, I cannot stop you.” Gaze met his, eyes wavering, telling tales of old, death, and destruction, of unimaginable loss, all in an instance. 

She uncased her wings, slowly, her eyes glowing for a moment. “Time to go home.” Wings stretched and flapped a few times before she took off, the two of them flying right behind her via her abilities. 

Over the countryside they flew, the small lives of those below unable to be seen but able to be felt as their tiny figures moved about. Over rivers, forests, and ravines they flew still. A good time later a castle came into view, situated on a cliff, its defenses rivaled by few. 

Landing gently in front of two large doors, she glanced back at them both before knocking. Door creaked open to reveal a man dressed as a butler. 

“Ah, M. La Comtesse, glad to see you’ve finally arrived. I have dinner set for our newest gue-” He stopped, there were two men with her, not one. “M. la Comtesse? Two?” A slightly exasperated sigh. “A little warning next time would be nice. Now the dinner service will have to be adjusted. You are also late. Did something happen?”

A chuckle at his sass, something that she had found endearing over the years. “A few unexpected things happened, including bringing our second guest with me. He was in a predicament that I could not ignore.”

“Ah, very good. M. la Comtesse. I shall have a second room arranged immediately. You know, this reminds me of when you brought the Van Gogh brothers here. Are they brothers?”

“Not to my knowledge, though they banter like they are. Suppose you’ll have to ask them when you’re not pretending they aren’t right behind me. Can we move on? The smaller gentleman is in need of rouge.”

“Of course, M. la Comtesse.” It was then that Sebastian figured out that it was Cal who had done the unthinkable to his mistress. Though he hid his displeasure well from her in tone, the look he gave Cal was as cold and furious as a blizzard. “Might I have their names?”

“Oh, sorry… the larger gentleman is named Derrick, the smaller is called Rapscallion, though he also seems to go by Cal.” She stepped past Sebastian to be met by the prying eyes of the castle residents. “Good evening everyone.” She motioned at their new guests, “These two, Derrick and Cal, will be living here from now on. No harm should come to either of them, or you’ll be answering to me personally. Now, can we have a normal dinner, please? It’s been a long day.”

A few more steps into the castle and she faltered. A grunt and she began to fall, only to be caught by Arthur. “Now, luv, what have I said about overexerting yourself?”

“Mmmmm, I don’t need a lecture now….” Her wings went back into her back and she began to breathe heavily. 

Quietly, he spoke to her, “You know, dove, you didn’t need to bring him back here, let alone two. Seems like it may not have been worth the effort.” Arthur shot both men a look, his eyes showing of his vampiric rage. All that left him as he picked her up and carried her off. 

“Apologies gentlemen, introductions of your fellow residents shall have to wait till dinner itself.” Sebastian chimed in, “My name is Sebastian. I am the head of staff here and am the butler that serves M. la Comtesse personally. Now, let’s get you two cleaned up so you are presentable. Can’t have you dressed like that for dinner with everyone.”

He ushered them both to where they could bathe and get their choice of finer clothing. 

……

“What happened out there, luv?” Arthur inquired, his eyes looking over her exhausted figure. 

“I’m not used to having to carry so much weight with my powers for so long. Seems I need to train more. Not used to flying while using my powers either. The battlefield usually doesn’t call for use of my wings. I had been planning on just carrying back one, not two.”

“And why are there two? Who do we need to watch out for…. Who…. who did those horrible things to you?”

“Ask Jean, I’d rather not tell everyone so as to give them a chance to make their own impressions.”

“Ever the mystery with you, luv. What am I ever to do with you, hmm?”

She scoffed, “Suppose you’ll stay with me, as you always have. I’ll be fine Arthur, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Mmmm, the blood on your clothes tell enough of the tale.”

Eyebrows quirked, “Damn, guess I wasn’t as focused as I usually am. Apologies to Sebastian and the staff.”

“Get some rest and change, maybe take a bath. Till dinner then, luv.” With that, Arthur left her alone, all the while hatching a plan to figure out which of the two had tried to kill their beloved Comtesse. 

…...

Having scrubbed all the blood off her, a bath had felt refreshing, especially for her sore wing muscles. Sheesh, that was a long flight. Ah, yes, dinner. Time to look nice and make pleasantries. This was going to be interesting. Never before had she brought anyone to the mansion with as much issue with the other residents. Even Theo, resident tsundere, or Mozart, resident grump had been this much of an issue. She only hoped her warning not to harm them would stick. Didn’t mean they had to accept them, or be nice for that matter. Oy vey this was a mess. 

…...

Heels clicked on the hard floor as she entered the dining room. Starry dress flowed with each movement, it looking like it was the sky just as the sun had decided to finally sleep. Everyone seated now rose to greet her. Sebastian pushed in the chair with her as she sat down, ever the lady of elegance. A soft smile graced her lips as she raised a glass of rouge, “Welcome, Derrick and Cal. Introductions are in order, so I shall go around the table.”

Taking a sip from the glass, she set it down. “Derrick, to your left going ‘round the table we have, William Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh, Theo Van Gogh, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Napoleon Bonapart, Isaac Newton, Leonardo da Vinci, Dazai, Jean de Arc, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is to your right Cal. And yes, these are the actual men of their namesakes. I specialize in bringing back people from history to help with current predicaments. Gentlemen, please enjoy dinner. I can now also take any of your questions, as promised before we left that accursed place.”

Glares ‘round the table were at both Cal and Derrick, but no one said anything to them, they all starting to chatter among themselves.

[rainiedeforest]

Wangxian Hogwarts AU

Thank you for the request! It’s a little longer that I waited, but well… You cannot ask for two of my favourite things in the world and not expect it xD Hope you like it~

The crowd moved by King Cross Station as the hands of the clock moved relentlessly. Lan Huan smiled as he pushed the cart. That was his fourth year at Hogwarts school of Magic, but his brother… little Lan Zhan had been freaking out when he received the letter, something that, of course, he didn’t easily demonstrate. But he knew him well, for something he was his older brother.

“A-Zhan, remember to run straight at the barrier between the two platforms,” he said in a soft voice and the eleven-year-old nodded before going decisively against that column of bricks that had inspired Lan Huan so much fear and respect when he was little. A laugh escaped his lips before he looked at his parents and uncle, who waited for their oldest son to pass as well.

Platform 9 and ¾ was just as he remembered it. Wizards and witches of all ages were running around, noisy, laughing... happy. He couldn't wait to meet up with his friends, but he had to make sure that his little, adored brother was okay. Perhaps he could convince him to sit with them in the same compartment. Yes, Lan Zhan would surely accept.

“Lan Huan!” He heard a hard, deep voice call out to him, making him turn his head and smile.

“Da-ge!” He exclaimed when he saw Nie Mingjue walking up to them with a small and embarrassed boy who didn’t leave his waist. “How was the summer? You didn't answer my last letter.”

“There was a problem. A certain person used it to paint.” Nie Mingjue's little brother hid behind him better, drawing a smile from Lan Huan.

“Don’t worry. We'll catch up on the train,” he said kindly. “And this gentleman? Is him Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue nodded, trying to get the little boy to let go his robe, which he was already wearing. “Nice to meet you, Huaisang. This is your first year at Hogwarts, I guess? Don't worry, my brother A-Zhan also starts this year. Maybe you two can be good friends.”

Nie Huaisang looked at Lan Zhan fearfully and, after meeting that stoic gaze, quickly looked at Lan Huan with doe eyes. He hid better and remained with his head pressed to the back of his older brother, as if that way he could disappear.

“Have you seen Da-Jie?” Nie Mingjue shook his head. “Well, I guess it won’t take long for her to come. Didn't her little brother and cousin start this year too?”

“This year is going to be a headache,” answered the oldest of all with his eyes closed.

They said goodbye to their respective parents and uncle, promising to write as much as they could with tests and assignments. They were about to enter one of the compartments when they heard voices fighting.

“WEI YING! REPEAT IT IF YOU DARE!”

Loud laughter reached their ears before a much sweeter feminine voice tried to calm them down.

“Come on, A-Cheng, A-Ying. Be good children and sit down now. You are disturbing the whole wagon.”

“Da-jie,” Lan Huan greeted, peering into the compartment and seeing the girl sitting as she tried to calm two eleven-year-olds who were about to start a fight. “We were worried about not seeing you.”

“A-Huan, A-Jue,” she replied with a smile as she saw both boys at the compartment door. “Come in, there's plenty of room.”

“But A-jie! It’s going to be very cramped!” The same boy who was screaming until a few minutes ago complained. Jiang Yanli, the boy's older sister, stroked his head and took his hand to sit him next to her.

Nie Mingjue sat by the window, next to him Lan Huan, and, in the rest of the seats, Nie Huaisang and Lan Zhan.

“A-Jue, A-Huan, this is my little brother A-Cheng, and this devil next to him is A-Ying, our cousin,” she replied softly before fixing her gaze on the other children. “These are A-Sang and A-Zhan?” Her smile was very bright, almost as bright as the prefect insignia she wore pinned to her robe, next to her house crest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Jiang Yanli.”

Both Nie Huaisang and Lan Zhan nodded wordlessly, one out of shyness and the other out of few words, but they drew a giggle from the only girl in the compartment.

“We thought you would be with Luo Qingyang and Wen Qing,” Lan Huan said, catching the girl's attention and soon the three of them were immersed in a conversation about their friends and what they had been doing this summer, as well as congratulations to the girl for getting to be prefect, something that didn’t surprise them in the least.

For their part, the four children looked at each other in silence, seeing how they had been relegated to the background. Unless until one of them took the courage to break the silence.

“Do you know what house you want to be in?” Asked the one Jiang Yanli had introduced as Wei Ying. “I know I'm going to be in Gryffindor. It is, obviously, the best house of all. And if not, I'd be in Hufflepuff, like my jiejie. This loser here“, he said, pointing to Jiang Cheng, “will go to Slytherin, but because they won't want him in the other houses.”

His laughter filled the compartment before he was hit on the head.

“Who are you calling loser?! And what is the problem with Slytherin?! They are smart, creative in their own way, and hard-working to get what they want. It wouldn't be a shame!”

“You only say that because jiejie told you about the good characteristics of the Slytherin, because before you used to cry like a baby whatever we mention that house. Whaaa, whaaa” Wei Ying pretended he was crying like a child and Jiang Cheng was about to hit him again. “And you?”

“I… I want to be with my Da-ge, but I don't think I have the qualities to be in Gryffindor…” Nie Huaisang muttered in a low voice, causing Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng to look at him curiously.

“Why not?” Wei Ying asked without taking his eyes off the boy. This made him slightly nervous and he began to wave his hands.

“I-I don't know... I-I'm not b-brave, nor too smart... I-I'm not too interested in classes except... Mm...”

Now it was Jiang Cheng's turn to speak.

“Unless?”

“I like birds, well, animals in general and… um… painting…”

“So you're a hard worker... Maybe Hufflepuff will suits you better?” Jiang Cheng asked, exchanging a glance with Wei Ying. Apparently they could get along when they wanted.

Nie Huaisang nodded, looking at Jiang Yanli and Lan Huan, both in the colors of the badger house. They seemed happy and they were friendly. Maybe ending up in Hufflepuff wasn't a bad option. Suddenly, he had a brave outburst and turned to the only boy who had not spoken since they had entered in the compartment.

“What about you, Lan-xiong?” But Lan Zhan stared at him silently before refocusing his gaze on the compartment door. Nie Huaisang closed his mouth and looked at Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying, who both shrugged.

They continued in silence until Wei Ying, being as restless as ever, got up and sat between Nie Huaisang and Lan Zhan.

“Come on, come on, Lan Zhan. Don't you know it's rude not to answer when they speak to you?” he asked, putting an arm around his shoulders, making the boy tense with that simple contact. Lan Zhan's eyes slid until they could see him out of the corner of his eye.”

“Don't touch me,” he murmured coldly, jerking his arm off him in rude ways.

But Wei Ying was not a person to quickly give up. Nie Huaisang got up from the seat and went to sit next to Jiang Cheng, hoping not to get caught in the crossfire between those two. He grinned widely and nudged him playfully.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… So stiff, so silent… I bet you love to study.” Lan Zhan's eyes gave him the coldest of glances, but Wei Ying only found it amusing. “Listen to my words. You will end up in Ravenclaw. You will be a boring Ravenclaw dressed in blue, with your head in the books all day and not wanting to play Quidditch. Because you sure don't like Quidditch either, do you?”

“Bored…”

Wei Ying laughed.

“Wei Ying, leave him alone. You're bothering him“, Jiang Cheng muttered under his breath, kicking him on the knee. The aforementioned ignored it.

“Don't worry, Lan Zhan. That I will work so you don’t have that destiny. We are going to have a great time.”

“Let me go.”

“It will be so good that you won't be able to live without me~”

“WEI YING!”

Lan Huan looked at his brother when he heard him call out the boy with that seriousness and smiled a little. He wished, deep in his heart, that he could make friends. Maybe he just needed someone like Wei Ying.

[oneeyewonder91]

Day at the Theme Park

Hello everyone!!

Long time no see for sure. I have been standing in the background of Tumblr, observing and seeing a lot of great posts by awesome people. Congrats to @poopypantsaudrey on flying past 3500 followers and almost reaching 4000!

I have done some adventures over the past few months and can’t wait to share them.  

Well I am going to guess one of your reasons for reading this post is you want to hear a new adventure? Well gather your favorite snacks (MMM, crunchy Cheetos) and finding a nice comfy seat.

Submitted for the approval of the Tumblr community, I call this adventure How to Poop yourself at an Amusement Park

Back in March, I took a journey to the magical state of Texas to visit some family and to experience the Lone Star state as an adult. Last time I was there was as a little boy as an attendees for a family reunion and of course did not have the freedom to explore the things I really wanted to do. One of these things was to visit an amusement park. Sadly, where I reside, there are not many parks close by as our climate is not the best for outdoor fun most the year. (Our season are Rain, Winter, Rain Part 2, and Road construction). When I began planning this trip out, I decided that one of the things I wanted to do was make a public mess while at an amusement park. The rules of this were as follows: I wanted it to be a big park, I  could not inconvenience any other park goes while I was messy, and I had to at least pee twice while there and poop once.

I booked my trip and made sure to pack at least two extra pairs of burner pants (cheap pants I have started buying simply for these types of situations) and 3 pullups. I knew that things may get very messy, so I made sure to buy pullups with very tight leg bands so hopefully nothing would squeeze put the sides.

I spent a few days just visiting with family and doing Texas things (horseback riding, enjoying sun, and of course indulging in delicious BBQ and Tex-Mex cuisine.

Finally, on day 4 of my trip, I decided it was time. I have been sure to eat a good amount of fiberous foods and to grease things up with some big burgers and doughnuts. I held the stink train in me for a day and a half (and for me that is a long time, as lately I have been pooping twice a day).

I could tell the morning I awoke that I was full and in need of some relief. I told my family I was going to explore and would be back for more visiting that evening. I threw on a pair of pants, two pullups to keep things safe, and and extra pair of pants over that. It was warm and snug, but I figured that a little discomfortable from being to warm would be better than having messy leakage.

My target was about an hour away, so I swung through Starbucks to grab a large coffee and a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich. Before leaving, I had avoided peeing, so as I ate my sandwich and washed it down with coffee, I could my bladder filling and starting to stretch.

Texas is beautiful country and I enjoyed the drive. I had also felt some knocking at the back end before leaving, but as I drove, the feeling began to reside, only emitting a few puffy farts from time to time to relieve a little extra pressure.

Arriving at the amusement park, I already knew today would be a good day,. First off, I love amusement parks. It’s the rides, the shows, the food, and of course, the atmosphere.

I purchased my admission and a Fast pass, so I could avoid as many lines as possible. It was almost noon and the park was not overly full. It was midweek and there were smattering of groups of people here and there. Some sections were fuller than others, and some seemed completely deserted. My need to pee was starting to get to a point where I knew the floodgates would open soon. It was time to find a ride to pee on. I am a fan of many different types of rides, but I wanted this one to be a more intense roller coaster. I walked for a bit trying to find the right coaster I wanted to pee on and finally dcided on one we will call Giant Coaster.

Before jumping in line, I checked to make sure my pullups were snug and that everything would be able to hold             together while the ride pulled some major G force through turns and over hills. Feeling secure, I took my place in line behind 20 or so people. The air was warm, the sounds of popular music were playing, and the anticipation of what I was about to do was growing. This was not my first time peeing on a roller coaster. I had accidently wet myself while riding a roller coaster in Missouri as a child because I hid the fact I had to pee from my grandmother. This would be a whole new experience

Nearing the front of the line, I started to worry. What if I did leak? How do you explain that? As the train I would be riding in approached, I took some deep breaths and assured myself things would be ok. I grabbed a seat at the rear of the train (my favorite place for roller coasters) and we began the slow progression towards the lift hill.

In order to increase my now enormous need to pee, I started to let out little dribbles as we began moving up the hill. Not big dribbles mind you, but tiny little squirts that I could feel slowly making a damp spot on my pullup. As we reached the top, my need to pee was reaching its climax and I was utterly bursting to release. The train teetered at the top of the hill, almost as if deciding if it should fall back or move forward. Then with a lurch, the train crested the hill and we rocketed downward. As my car finally began its descent, so did I begin soaking my pullup. I moaned softly with relief as a massive amount of pee began flooding each centimeter of the front of my pullup and it felt amazing to wet myself at such a high rate of speed, almost like to thrills in one. I continued peeing as we hit the first loop and the first corkscrew roll, and only stopped as we entered some large turns. I could feel the pullup had gained a lot of weight with all of the pee in it, and my bladder throbbed as if to say “Thank you! Oh thank you for emptying me!” As exited the train at the station after the ride was over, I hoped no one would notice the obvious puffy bulge the pullup was making at the front of my pants. One down, and a mess and definitely more pee to go.

I spent the next few hours wandering about, enjoying a few more roller coasters, flat rides, and of course people watching. There is a type of crowd that frequents amusement parks midweek. Kind of a cross between families with young kids, and young thrill seekers who may have a day off from work or college and want to ride as many rides as possible. I also ate a few different things in order to increase my urge to poop. Before eating, my urge was around a 3.5 and I could tell I would need to poop at some point. I then ate some delicious Texas nachos, a corn dog, and a chocolate ice cream sundae with banana and whip cream, just to get things all lubed and ready to flow. After all this, I had been at the park for around 3 hours and was now at a red alert 8 on my need to poop. But where to do it??

I knew I didn’t want to poop on a ride. That could create a mess for staff and could affect other park goers. I didn’t want to just sit down and poop somewhere like I had done before. I decided to be a bit daring. I walked around a little more, feeling things slowly sliding south, and the pressure on my butthole growing ever more. I started to let a few puffy farts, which is typically my signal that pooping will commence soon. Looking around, I realized that my journey through the park had taken me full circle. I was back at Giant Coaster. And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. Acting like I was just waiting for some friends to finish getting on and riding the ride, I learned against a low fence, sticking out my butt slightly so I was in a small leaning position. A quick look around me show that I was in direct line of sight to all those waiting in line as well as a food stall straight across the way where people were enjoying ice cream.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly relaxed my body and gave a slight push in order to get things moving. I felt the head of a hard poop breach my butthole and come to rest there. I expected it to keep sliding, but it just stuck there. I gave another push, but only received an airy fart for my troubles. This is a situation I had not expected: Usually my poops behave and slide out without much effort. I suppose what caused this sudden tough poop was the change in climate and length of time I had gone without going. I gave another push and felt the this big poop scrap along the interior of my bowel. Moving my legs slightly more apart and adopting more of a leaning on the wall position, I took a large breath and gave a big push. Things began moving and soon the poop was pressing against the fabric of my pull up. As I pooped, my bladder also started to release and I flooded my already wet pullup with even my pee. Push after push, breath after deep breath, I filled my pullup. As this enormous poop came out of me, it became softer and more of a mushy texture towards the very end. I was in heaven. This was one of the biggest poops I had taken in quite awhile, and to be doing it in such a public place was amazing. As I finished, I let a loud muffled fart as if my body was saying “Ta da!!”

Feeling much fuller and much lighter, I stood up. I could tell my pants were very bulgy, and I secretly hoped maybe someone had noticed this young fellow pooping himself. I started walking, feeling my solid, heavy movement sway as I walked. Unfortunately, I knew I would not be able to leave the park in this state. I was in a rental car, and I knew squishing poop on the seat, even with a towel, would lose me my deposit. But I wanted to squish!

I found a small stage area that had a few people walking through, but no shows in progress. Walking to the nearest bleacher, I quickly took a seat, feeling my massive mess flatten under me and push up into my crotch. I took out my phone, and popped in my earbuds, and enjoyed the sensation. I gave a few small bounces and feel the lump under give slightly. I also wiggled a bit, just to spread things around. When I finally stood up, I knew I had a giant flat pancake on my butt. It was time to clean up.

I was able to locate a family restroom on a map, which was more near the park entrance. I walked toward the entrance area, spreading carefully as I could feel that the poop had breached the bands of my first pullup, and were now moving into the second pullup.

I was finally able to locate the restroom and went in to clean up. Cleaning up took quite a while. Luckily, the brand of pullups I had wore held up quite well and I was very happy with them. I wash able to get all the poop off with lots of TP, and I disposed of the super mess in the bathroom trash can. I made sure to bag the pullups and the underlayer pair of pants with a plastic bag I had brought in my pocket. Unfortunately, the restroom stunk terribly from the cleanup, so hopefully it aired out before anyone else went in.

Leaving the park, I thought about the day I had had. I am really shocked at the size that poop was, and slightly disappointed I hadn’t wet as much. Oh well, more water or soda for next adventure. Once I got back to the family house, I took a good shower to make sure I was clean again and spent the rest of the evening sitting outside eating burgers and hot dogs with the family.

I know I have been gone for a while. Again, my sincere apologies. As I said earlier, I do have a few more adventures I have done to write up. Those will come soon!

Thanks for reading and hope you all enjoyed!

Until next time: Keep posting and stay wet, messy, or both!

[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading. I really appreciate it. 

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support.

Bit of a longer chapter here, and some family fluff time up at Lallybroch. hope you enjoy

Chapter 24: A Fanciful Hallowe’en

‘Excuse me,’ said Granny, empowering the words with much the same undertones as are carried by words like ‘Charge!’ and ‘Kill!’, ‘Excuse me, but does this pointy hat I’m wearing mean anything to you?’ - Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Brian Fraser had always been keen on traditions. Not just maintaining those established by his ancestors but also in creating his own. Which was why, when Jenny and Jamie were very small, Brian and Ellen launched the annual Samhain festivities for the Broch Tuarach Distillery employees and their families. Over the years it had grown into an amalgamation of traditional Hallowe’en, with children’s scary costumes, carved pumpkins and plenty of sweet treats, and Bonfire night, with sausages and baked potatoes, treacle toffee and a grand firework display. As the distillery grew, so did the party. It was still held at Lallybroch, but had outgrown the house and now required a marquee and a couple of portaloos.

Brian always insisted that his family attend this event. Originally hosted by Ellen and Brian, Jenny and Jamie, always suitably costumed, now assisted in the duty. Murtagh lurked on the periphery, choosing a less visible role - changing the beer barrels, replenishing the platters of food and deep bowls of sweets, and providing mugs of coffee and glasses of water to those who had overindulged.

Jamie had driven up to Lallybroch the day before the party on his own. Claire was still at the hospital when he set off, unable to change her rota, but was planning on getting the train to Inverness the next day, where Jamie would meet her.

Jenny was already in the kitchen when Jamie arrived. Maggie was contentedly asleep in her arms as Jenny adjusted the buttons on her shirt. Jamie took Maggie from her and settled himself in the old rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Och, they’re all admiring Wee Jamie’s costume.” Jenny yawned and stretched. “Spider-Man, of course. Have ye got yers sorted? Does Claire ken she’s expected tae dress up too?”

“Aye.” Jamie nodded as Maggie roused slightly and grabbed his finger, pulling it to her mouth. “Clean hands, by the way.”

Jenny gazed at her brother who, having reclaimed his finger, was now busy blowing soft raspberries against his niece’s cheeks. “That suits ye, bràthair. Seein’ ye fussin’ over a wee bairn. I still canna say I’m thrilled about Geneva, but I’m lookin’ forward tae times here wi’ yer wee lad. What’s the latest, anyway? How’s Madam doin’?”

Before Jamie could answer, the sound of footsteps along the stone corridor heralded the arrival of Wee Jamie, closely followed by Ian and Brian. Wee Jamie rushed to greet his uncle, only hesitating slightly when he noticed Maggie in Jamie’s arms. Jamie shuffled Maggie to one side, allowing his nephew to clamber onto his other knee.

“Unca,” Wee Jamie cried happily, his fingers rubbing back and forth against the bristles on Jamie’s jawline. “‘S party tomorrow. What’s ye wearin’? Mine is secret. I’m gonna have sweeties and pop and play games and stay up till verra, verra late. Aren’t I, Mam?”

“Aye, weel, only if ye go tae bed nicely tonight. Come on now, say goodnight tae everyone. I’ll take ye and Maggie up the wooden hills tae Bedfordshire.”

With great dramatic rolling of eyes and dragging of feet, Wee Jamie reluctantly allowed his mother to lead him to bed, all the while moaning to himself. “I’m no’ tired… and I’m a big boy… I dinna go tae bed when a baby does.”

The sounds of the little lad complaining about his bedtime faded away as Brian fetched the whisky and glasses and placed them on the kitchen table.

******

Jamie, Ian, Brian and Murtagh sat round the table, each with a glass in hand listening to the battle coming through the baby monitor. Jamie looked over at Ian.

“D’ye think one of us should go and give Jenny a hand?” he asked, concerned, as a spirited ‘nooo’ sounded round the room.

“Och no,” Ian took a sip of his whisky. “Jenny has it all in hand. Jes’ wait, here it comes.”

Jenny’s stern voice came through the baby monitor, raised to speak over the whining of her son. “James Ian Brian Murray, if ye dinna settle down this instant, there will be no sweeties, no pop, no party and absolutely no Spider-Man for ye, do ye understand?”

Immediately the monitor grew quiet, then Jenny continued. “And as I ken yer da, grandda, uncle and Murtagh are all listening in, there’d better be a wee nip down there waiting fer me. Now goodnight, Jamie lad. See ye tomorrow.”

******

As requested, a whisky was waiting on the table for Jenny’s arrival. She settled herself, took a large sip, then addressed her brother, picking up the conversation from an hour before.

“So, Jamie, ye were about tae tell me how it goes wi’ Geneva?”

“Ah, the pregnancy is goin’ fine, seems tae be. Geneva herself, that’s another matter.”

Jenny and Murtagh made snorting sounds in unison. Brian moved his chair closer to his son and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

“And yes, Janet Ellen Murray née Fraser, ye dinna have tae remind me of what ye said. I ken.” Jamie managed to raise a smile, contemplating the recent antics of the Dunsany family. “I had a wee chat with Geneva after Angus’ weddin’. Made it clear…”

“Agin!” Jenny muttered under her breath.

“Alright, Jenny, agin, aye, that we willna be together. I’m still no’ sure how much went intae her head though. Seems she wanted us tae have a gender reveal party together.”

A look of scorn came over Murtagh’s face. “A what? Gender reveal? Party? Why in God’s name would ye do that? It’s a boy, ye’ve already ‘revealed’ it tae us.”

“Weel, I’m no’ doin’ it, no couple-type things. But I don’t think she’s given up jes’ yet. And then, last week, I had a visitor.”

“No’ Geneva, fer a booty call?” Ian suggested.

“Nah, no’ Geneva… her mother, Louisa, standing on the doorstep, ringing the bell like the divil himself was after her. She jes’ popped by tae remind me of my responsibilities tae her daughter… and tae tell me tae give Claire up and be wi’ Geneva.”

Even across the table, Jamie could hear Jenny breathing heavily, trying to control her temper. “I kent it. They’re like two peas in a pod, her and her blasted mother. Jamie, what ye ever saw in that woman in the first place is beyond me. And now look at this mess!”

Brian quickly interrupted his daughter. “No, Jenny. Enough! Jamie doesna need that. He’s doin’ his best and we support him no matter what his decision. If he decides tae be with Geneva, then we will make the best o’ it.”

“Like hell we will!” Murtagh banged his empty glass on the table and poured himself a large refill. “I tell ye, lad, Claire is a rare lass, ye dinna want tae let her go. And if yon stuck-up madam joins this family, I will be looking fer alternative accommodation whenever she’s at Lallybroch. I canna be dealin’ wi’ her pretensions and vanity and selfishness. She shouldna be a Fraser.”

“Can everybody let me finish?” Jamie wanted to draw this conversation to a close and quickly. “I will say this once, and then the subject is closed. I’m having a son. I’m no’ havin’ a relationship wi’ his mother, nor do I ever intend tae. I intend ma future tae be with Claire, no matter what. So ye can all breathe again and let’s talk about the party tomorrow.”

***********

Claire relaxed in her train seat, by the window and with a table as requested. By placing a bag on the seat next to her, she hoped to deter anyone from sitting there. Three hours to herself to read, snooze or daydream didn’t happen very often and she wanted to make the most of it without interruption.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the 12:09 pulled out of the station with no one claiming the seat. Three hours and then Jamie would meet her at Inverness station and take her to Lallybroch.

The rhythmic sway of the carriage was very soothing. Claire didn’t bother with her book or magazine, she just rested her head and gazed out of the window as the scenery changed with every passing mile.

The party that night was an important event for the Frasers and Murrays. Claire was excited for several reasons. This would be the first Fraser family function she had been invited to and she relished that feeling of inclusion, of being part of something, of belonging.

Then there were the fireworks. Ever since Claire was a little girl, she loved watching fireworks. It had been an annual treat for Uncle Lamb to take her to the local display, where she would try to write her name in the air with a sparkler and would inevitably develop a sore neck from staring up into the sky, keen to enjoy every last flash of colour. There had never been any fireworks while she was with Frank, either literally or metaphorically.

The last reason was her costume. Jamie had stressed the importance of the costume. He had given her no clue about his, so Claire had been unsure what to do. Could she cut two holes in a white bed sheet and be a ghost, or was a more ‘polished’ outfit required?

Even Geillis, when asked, had been of no use. All her suggestions had a common theme: slutty nurse, slutty zombie, slutty witch. Eventually Claire decided to trust her own instinct and a bit of Google. And at last she had come up with a costume which she thought would do very nicely.

******

The sun was setting by the time Jamie and Claire were pulling into the driveway at Lallybroch. Lights had been set up along the path to the marquee and the whole area was a hive of activity with caterers, pyrotechnicians and entertainers rushing to and fro.

Claire gasped in amazement. “I didn’t realise it was such a big deal…“

Jamie smiled. “Aye. This was my mam’s thing, ye ken. She always loved this party, she loved the autumn afore the weather turned too cold, but still cool enough tae light the fires. And how she loved the fireworks. So Da does this every year for Mam.”

Jamie sniffed and cleared his throat. “Anyway, let's get inside. Ye must be cold. Everyone’s started getting ready. We never tell each other what our costumes are, it’s part of the fun.”

******

Claire examined her reflection in the mirror in Jamie’s room, Jamie having been banished to a guest bedroom. She knew she had spent too much money on a fancy dress costume, but viewing it now from all angles, it was money well spent.

Not knowing how close to stick to the scary Hallowe’en theme, the decision was made when she found the dress. Black and knee length with a floaty handkerchief hem, it had a tight laced bodice with shoulder straps, underneath which were off-the-shoulder, long, gauzy sleeves, worn with black stockings, black kitten-heeled ankle boots, and black lace fingerless gloves. Claire left her curls loose around her face and added the finishing touch- a witch’s pointed hat.

A face peeped round the door. A face with round glasses and a lightning scar drawn on his forehead. “Can I come in now?”

Claire laughed as Jamie opened the door fully. Clad in school trousers, white shirt and school tie, he also sported a Gryffindor scarf and black wizard robes. “That’s brilliant. A six foot three Harry Potter.”

Jamie walked over to Claire and put his arms around her. “And ye, Sassenach, are the bonniest witch I’ve ever seen.”

His hand moved across her bodice, his fingers softly grazing the tops of her breasts, just visible above the dress. “That dress is verra becoming.”

Claire ran her hands through his curls, pulling his head down to her.

“Well, hopefully we’ll both be coming later.” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

Jamie grinned. “Was that a wee witchy joke there, Sassenach? I shall be looking forward tae it, especially as I believe ye are wearing yer stockings agin. Am I right? Ah, tae see the white of yer luscious thighs against the black, ‘tis verra verra exciting…”

Clutching her bottom, he pulled her close.

“Jamie,” Claire giggled. “I think I’ve found your wand.”

******

The family gathered in the morning room, before joining the party. Claire could tell how seriously they took this evening. Wee Jamie was clearly Spider-Man and his sister, in her father's arms, was a cute little pumpkin. Claire instantly recognised Jenny and Ian as Sandy and Danny from Grease. Brian, in faded beige trousers, shirt and battered leather jacket was Indiana Jones with fedora in one hand and coiled whip in the other. Claire was relieved that she had made an effort with her dress.

“Claire, that dress is gorgeous. You make an amazing witch.” Jenny was full of praise.

“Thanks, you all look incredible too. But…” she spoke softly to Jenny, subtly looking over at Murtagh, who had just come in wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Ah weel, ‘tis a bit of a joke now after sae many years. Murtagh doesna like tae dress up and Mam always told him that he had tae. So every year since Jamie and I were bairns he puts the same thing on. He’ll add a checked shirt, wool hat and his walking boots and be a lumberjack, he willna change. It’s jes’ a tradition, ye ken.”

“Mam, can we go now, pease?” Wee Jamie excitedly grabbed his mother’s hand. “I wanna go now.”

He turned to Claire. “Care bear… ye no’ a scary witch. Ye too pretty tae be scary.”

“Thank you, Jamie. And you’re a very handsome Spider-Man.” Claire looked up to see her Jamie staring intently at her. His gaze burned white hot into her very core. Everything around her disappeared, all that existed in that moment was Jamie. Swiftly he came to her side, their eyes locked together...

“Care bear… come wi’ me now.”

She felt a tug on her arm.

“C’mon… and ye too Unca. We’re goin’ tae the party.”

Laughing, they both looked down at Wee Jamie, excitedly pulling them out of the room.

******

The marquee was magical, Claire decided. There was no other word for it. Delicate wisps of cobwebs blew gently in the breeze, suspended from the ceiling next to hordes of friendly spiders. Cauldrons bubbled with coloured lights and smoke from dry ice. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the tables and fairy lights were strung around the walls.

Jamie stayed by Claire’s side, introducing her proudly to all the guests, only moving aside when his nephew dragged her onto the dance floor during the children’s disco. He watched as Claire, grinning broadly, tried to teach Wee Jamie to dance gangnam style. Murtagh, now clad in his full lumberjack costume, wandered over to stand beside him. He patted Jamie on the back and gave a thumbs up.

Nodding his head towards Claire, he spoke quietly in Jamie’s ear. “She's a fine lass, that one. Dinna let her go. This stramash wi’ the other will sort itself out. Make sure Claire kens that. She’ll be a fine addition tae our family.”

As the song ended, Wee Jamie ran back to Jenny and Claire made her way to Jamie, Murtagh having conveniently vanished. She fanned her face with her hands. Jamie could see tiny beads of sweat along her upper lip. He longed to taste them.

“I’m so hot. Can we get a bit of fresh air?”

“Aye, weel, it’ll soon be time fer fireworks, we need tae find a place tae view them. Wait here.”

Jamie rushed out of the marquee, but returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a small hold-all. “Come wi’ me.”

“Really, Mr. Fraser, leaving your guests, and…” Claire gestured to the bag. “It’s almost as if you had this planned.”

Together they left the party and moved deeper into the garden, Jamie leading the way, following an old familiar route, until they reached a secluded corner of the garden, on a slight slope. Unzipping the hold-all, Jamie pulled out some thick woolen blankets. He quickly unfolded one and set it on the ground before sitting down and pulling Claire down next to him. Unfolding another blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Lie back, ‘tis the best place tae see the fireworks.” Jamie encouraged.

Claire laughed, but obliged. “Really, what a line… want to see some fireworks, come and lie down next to me. And how many girls have you brought here to ‘watch the fireworks’?”

Jamie could see her fingers making air quote movements. He leaned over and lightly kissed her lips, running his tongue along her upper lip. She tasted of spiced apples and whisky with the hint of salt lingering on her skin.

“No other lass here, ever. Ye are the first, Sassenach.”

Claire placed her hands under her head and stared up at the night sky. “You know I love fireworks, right? I told you that. It was an annual outing, me and Uncle Lamb, every bonfire night. But I’ve not told you why. It wasn’t just the excitement and the colours of the fireworks…”

They could hear everyone leaving the marquee now, ready for the fireworks to begin.

Claire continued. “When a firework goes off and you see it shooting high into the sky, I used to imagine that was a message to my parents from me. Then there’s a moment of dark before the burst of colours and sparks and light. And that was the message back from mum and dad, the huge explosion in the sky was them saying ‘we love you.’ Pretty fanciful, huh?”

“No’ fanciful at all, Sorcha. Jes’ a wee girl tryin’ tae find some comfort.”

Jamie could feel Claire’s heartbeat quicken as the first rocket blazed into the sky, trailing silver and gold before shattering into a shower of sparks. Appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ came from the audience below.

Claire shifted and adjusted the blanket to cover both of them. Her hand found his and clasped it tightly. Jamie brought hers to his lips.

“Claire, I want ye tae know that I love ye and I see ma future as yer future, weel, as our future together. I dinna want tae ever be wi’ out ye…”

Claire brought her fingertips to his lips. “I love you too, I never want to be without you either. I will be there for you with the baby and dealings with… well… you know. But, how can I put this? I think we have to be careful for the next few months. Do you know what I mean? Otherwise someone could cause problems.”

“Aye, I ken ye’re right. As long as we ken we’re goin’ tae be together, anything else can wait.”

Jamie brought his hand to the hem of Claire’s dress and rolled it up towards her hips. He could hear her breath become ragged as he found the soft skin just above her stocking and gently stroked it. His hand moved higher, pushing aside her lace knickers, his fingers fluttering at her very core before settling into a stronger rhythm. Claire closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over her as the fireworks reached their own crescendo, lighting up the sky.

[bee-kathony]

Tales From Fraser’s Ridge | Part 28 “Merry Christmas” 

a/n: I hope you all enjoy this special edition of TFFR -- it’s a bit different but still on the ridge ;) thank you so much @julesbeauchamp for making this special and beautiful moodboard for this chapter! 

Missing Moments

Scotland - 1952

“Merry Christmas Mama!” Bree shouted at the top of her lungs as she proceeded to jump up and down on our bed.

“Well, Merry Christmas to you darling,” I smiled as I came slowly awake to my very excited four year old.

“Can we open presents Mama?” She suddenly plopped down between us, her red hair flying around her little cheeks. “Pweeaseeee?”

“Aye, we can mo chuisle,” Jamie grinned and gave her head a pat. Bree let out an excited squeal and rolled off the bed with a thump. She was wild, always bumping into things and bruising her skin. It was a good thing I was a doctor, with a husband like Jamie and a daughter that took after him.

I listened to Bree’s little footsteps grow quieter as she descended the stairs, running into the living room.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” I turned to Jamie who was leaning back against the headboard and kissed him. His hands slid along my back and pulled me until I was straddling him.

“Mmm, Sassenach,” Jamie mumbled into my neck, his lips on my skin. “What I wouldn’t give for an hour alone wi’ ye.”

Rolling my hips slightly, he let out a groan and then looked up at me through squinted eyes. “The door is open,” I smirked. “Bree is waiting downstairs and she’s most likely already opened a present.”

Jamie sighed and gave my arse a firm squeeze with his hands before patting that part of my body and I rolled to the side. “I’ll see to ye later then,” he tried to wink and then rose from bed, pulling me to my feet.

On the way out from our room, I grabbed my light pink chiffon robe and slipped my arms through. It had been a gift from Jamie on our honeymoon nearly seven years ago; and it was also his favorite robe of mine to take off.

It had only been four years ago that Jamie and I finally moved into our own house. During the war, Jenny and Ian had stayed in Lallybroch and when Jamie and I came back and he proposed, it just felt right that one day we would find our own place. Granted, our little cottage was approximately a couple hundred feet from Lallybroch; Jamie had built it on the property.

We had decorated the halls with tinsel and holly, hung mistletoe in the entryway and Jamie had found the perfect Christmas tree to put up in the living room.

Bree was sitting by the tree now, her little fingers clutching onto a present so tight that the wrapping was ripping.

“Now, please?” She begged, her lip pouting.

Jamie rubbed his eyes from sleep and went to the fireplace to start it. I sank down into the couch, sighing as I felt my joints pop.

“Wait until your Da finishes the fire,” I smiled and crossed my arms over my chest. Bree turned to watch Jamie, her eyes darting from the wood he put in to the match he struck and when the fire grew she shouted, “Now?!”

“Aye, a leannan, now,” Jamie came and sat next to me, sliding his arm around my shoulder.

Bree dove into her first present, a pair of knitted gloves and matching hat that Jamie had made. She looked at them and smiled before gently placing them aside and reaching for the next box.

“I ken she wouldna be too pleased wi’ those, but still,” Jamie chuckled lightly and I slid my hand over his stomach, patting it.

“She’ll appreciate them when she goes and plays in the snow later,” I kissed his cheek and then turned back to watch Bree open up her next gifts.

We hadn’t been able to afford very much, but the one thing Bree had asked for was a bike; she wanted to learn because all her friends at school already knew how. She looked around the pile of wrapping paper and small little gifts and I could tell she was disappointed.

“Merry Christmas, lovey,” I smiled and then Jamie stood up and went into the next room.

“Thank you for my presents,” she smiled sweetly and came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, but I think you have one more present from Santa,” I winked and then she turned towards the door as Jamie walked in carrying a newly assembled red bike. Her face lit up and I knew it was worth it to pick up a few extra shifts over the holidays.

“A bike!” She squealed and ran towards it, clutching the handle bars.

“Tis has trainin’ wheels of course, but soon we’ll have ye ridin’ all on yer own,” Jamie said proudly and then lifted her up to sit on it. His hands held her back and she pushed on the pedals, moving forward a little before she bumped into the coffee table.

“Can we please do this outside?” I said and stood up to make sure the table didn’t have a scuff. “We don’t need little girls wrecking the house with their new bike!” I smiled and went over and kissed the top of her head.

“Can we Da?” Bree turned to look up at him, “Can ye teach me outside?”

Jamie looked at me and I nodded. We would be going over to Lallybroch for a Christmas roast but that wouldn’t be for a few more hours seeing as how Bree woke us up at first light.

“Put yer shoes on, Brianna,” Jamie stroked her hair. “And yer new gloves and hat and I’ll take the bike outside.”

She ran over to the door and sat down, sliding her feet into her wellies and then ran back to grab her gloves and hat, hastily shoving them on. “Ready!”

“I’ll come and watch,” I smiled and kissed Jamie’s cheek and grabbed my winter coat out of the closet before sliding into my own pair of wellies. Snow had fallen over night so I wasn’t too sure how much riding Bree was going to be doing.

Jamie picked up the bike and set it outside and then lifted Bree up onto the seat.

“Alright lass, ye put yer hands on these bars and these bits,” he touched the brakes, “Will help to slow ye down when ye go too fast.”

I wrapped my arms around myself as I stood in the doorway and watched as Jamie pushed Bree on her bike. It did have training wheels so there was no danger of her falling off, but I knew that she was determined and by tomorrow afternoon, she would be riding without them.

Jamie kept his hands on her small back, holding her steady as she learned the way of pedaling and then he let her go and stood back, watching as she moved forward slowly through the thin layer of snow.

Her laugh was music to my ears and I wondered what I had done to be so lucky to have this family all to my own. Jamie looked back at me, smiling and I wondered if he was thinking the same.

After Bree had ridden her bike to her heart’s content, we all came inside for some hot cocoa around the fire and Jamie read The Night Before Christmas.

Tired from an exciting morning for a four year old, Bree drifted to sleep and Jamie carried her upstairs to nap before we went over to the others for lunch. He closed her door quietly and we both tip toed to our room before closing our own door.

“Peace and quiet, mo nighean,” Jamie wasted no time in pressing me against the door and kissing me, his hands sliding along my sides.

“Mmmm, let’s hope she takes a nice long nap,” I mumbled against his lips and then shivered as Jamie’s hands untied my robe and pushed it off my arms, letting it fall to the ground. Suddenly, my feet weren’t on the ground and Jamie carried me over to the bed, laying me down before climbing on top of me.

“And where is my Christmas present?” I smiled, stroking his cheek. His hands were at my knees, pushing them apart and then my nightgown was puddled around my waist.

Jamie leaned down and kissed my neck, my collarbones, the tops of my breasts, “Would it be verra cheesy if I said yer gift was me?” He laughed and I along with him.

I shook my head and hooked both my hands in his plaid pajama pants, sliding them over his hips until his cock came free and pressed against my core. “It’s not cheesy at all,” I blushed. “It’s just what I asked Santa for.”

With a push forward he was home and my lips parted as I flexed my hips, feeling him inside me.

“Then ye’ll get what ye deserve, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned before pressing his lips against mine. “Merry Christmas, my own.”

++++++

The Ridge - 1771

I opened my eyes slowly and was confused when I saw the plain wood of a cabin instead of the white ceilings of the cottage. Jamie and I must have drifted off to sleep after we’d made love, but it still didn’t explain the reason why I was now in a cabin.

I slid my hand over in the bed and landed on Jamie’s chest. His eyes opened and a smiled played on his lips before he rolled over and kissed me.

“Hello, Sassenach,” he grinned.

“Hello, my love,” I slid my hands into his curls and then blinked several times as I looked around the room. We weren’t in Scotland on Christmas Day in a small cottage in the year 1952. We were in North Carolina on Christmas Eve, in the cabin Jamie had built in the year 1771.

It had been a dream.

That perfect Christmas morning in my own time had never happened; it had all been something my mind had crafted and I was sad when I realized it would never be a possibility.

Jamie saw my frown and cupped my cheek with his palm, “What is it, Sassenach? Are ye alright?”

“I just had the most peculiar dream,” I sighed. “We were in the year 1952 and it was Christmas morning.”

“1952? Verra peculiar indeed,” Jamie smirked. “What else happened in this wee dream of yers?”

“Bree was four years old and we got her a bike for Christmas,” I smiled as I remembered. “You helped her ride it and then we came back inside for hot cocoa. Bree fell asleep and then the last thing I remember was you on top of me.”

Jamie smirked and slid his hand along the curve of my waist, “That last part wasna a dream, mo nighean. Ye woke not so long ago and we made love.”

“We did?” I blushed. “Is it horrible that I don’t remember?”

His own cheeks blushed red, “I wasna doin’ my duty as yer husband if ye dinna remember it. Perhaps ye were asleep,” he laughed and then he pushed the blanket from on top of me and placed himself between my legs. To my surprise, we were both naked and I started to wonder how many times I had demanded sex while actually being asleep.

“We may not have a Christmas morning like yer dream, Sassenach,” Jamie said above me and his hands took hold of his length. “But our family is here. Safe. ’Tis all we need.”

“Yes,” I smiled and brought his face down to kiss. “We have everything we need here. Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

“Merry Christmas, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned and then he slid home. As I closed my eyes I could almost recall the details of the fine linen sheets of our home in that cottage and hear the pitter patter of Bree’s feet running down the hallway. It was another life, a life that would never be, but as I held Jamie in my arms now, I knew that the life I had was all I could ever need.

[rkjibeom]

MGA5 CALLBACK PERFORMANCE Singing Let Me Love You Mashup by Kiana Lede ; ( 0:10 - 2:05 )

Honestly, if anybody ever told Seungmin he’d make it for the MGAs callback, he would’ve just laughed it off and acted like it was nothing. Of course, that was merely joking around. The fact that it became a reality was a little disconcerting. He received the notification of the next step via e-mail and he just couldn’t believe his eyes.

He had so many people to tell, but he didn’t want to jinx anything whatsoever so he kept it to himself. In this short time frame, Seungmin mentally prepared and practiced with his whole heart on the line. With the address given to them for the recording, Seungmin traveled to the location. Since Seungmin and Changbin are roommates, they decided to go together.

“Binnie… this is so crazy. I can’t believe we’re really doing this. Like actually doing the MGAs. It’s insane.” He held onto his roommate’s hand as he found their way to the studio where the recording would take place.

Immediately upon arrival, Seungmin ran into Jeongin and excitedly dragged him over to everyone else including Jisung and Chan which they sat amongst each other. “This is so nerve-wracking, Innie… I hope we do well today.” He gripped the younger’s hand and squeezed for a little bit of reassurance -- more for himself than anything.

Seungmin quietly watches as other contestants pile into the studio and find themselves a seat among the hundred of chairs available. He notices a presence next to him sit down but doesn’t make much of it. It’s not until the voice speaks up. “Man, I’m nervous, how about you?”

Seungmin doesn’t even think twice before an automatic reply leaves his mouth. “Ugh, honestly, same.” He pauses for another second before he turns his head and that’s when it hits him like a goddamn train by letting out an audible gasp. His brother with the widest shit-eating grin on his face looking at him. Staring at him. Sitting right next to him. His mouth hangs slightly open and Seungmin is just absolutely shocked that his eyes widen considerably.

“Why are you here? Does mom know you’re doing this?” He starts blinking rapidly because he’s just so confused. Why was his brother here of all places? At auditions for the MGAs? It’s shaking him a lot just to see the older.

Seungmin blinks and looks to the other side of Jooyoung and finds his cousin, Hyojin, sitting near them too. Wow, it’s like a family reunion. “H-hyojin hyung? You’re auditioning for the MGAs too?” Shaking his head, he turns back to Jooyoung.

“Hyung… since when did you even like to perform? Do you sing or something?” Seungmin’s expression of confusion and shock slowly leaves his face as it turns colder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were auditioning? Nevermind, it’s not like you tell me anything anyways.”

Seungmin bites out that last harsh statement before turning away. The awkward silence between them is almost unbearable and he feels bad so he sighs before uttering one last thing to Jooyoung. “Good luck…”

For the rest of the waiting time, Seungmin faces towards Jeongin and Jisung and smiles as much as he can in hopes they don’t ask him anything. It’s hard pretending but he can’t let his brother being here affect him and his performance.

Finally, after all the contestants are settled and nestled into their respective seats, they reveal the judges who turn out to be the 5 CEOs of the big companies out right now. Seungmin stared in awe and clapped on cue, of course. He’s not surprised to see them considering they were here last season, but it’s nice. Although, since they’re the judges for this, it makes the performances seem scarier than normal. Something about this either being his last performance on stage or the beginning really unsettled Seungmin’s stomach. Naturally, he tries to will the nervous feelings down but he can’t really help it.

After the hundred of them give their performances, the CEOs will convene together to discuss who moves on and who doesn’t. Seungmin’s afraid of not making it. He’s afraid that his friends will get to hop to the next level and he’ll be left behind. This was different from last year when he managed to score an audience pass to watch some performances for MGA4. He dreamt about standing on stage and now that it’s so close and within reach, he’ll do whatever it takes to make it.

Seungmin exhales deeply and unclenches the fists that rested on his lap. He couldn’t let this get to him. Not now of all days. He had to relax or else his downfall will come sooner than later. One by one, contestants will be called to stand on stage and perform in front of everyone. Thankfully, he’s not called first and he watches with rapt attention at each contestant’s performance. Some are really eye-catching for sure and some he was okay with. There wasn’t anybody truly bad. Not like he could judge anyways. His performance might not be the best either.

Up next is a girl that catches Seungmin’s immediate attention. She’s pretty and looks mean -- like she could step on you and you would end up apologizing for getting in her way. Da-dum, da-dum. Seungmin flushes and clears his throat to will away the brush. Goddamn, this wasn’t some dating show for goodness sake. He’s so enarmored already and watching her performance that Seungmin notices when she turns to face the other contestants. He swears she winked at him. Him of all people. Or at least in his general direction. Either way, Seungmin flushed again and tried to watch the rest of it without embarrassing himself.

A couple more people went and it finally became Seungmin’s turn. With a smile towards his friends, his feet brought him on stage before the judges or the CEOs rather. Being requested to introduce himself, Seungmin smiled politely as his eyes crinkled with mirth. Bowing towards them, he stood back up straight and beamed. 

“Hello and what’s up! I’m 18 year old Kim Seungmin from Seoul.” He points to his red hair and laughs. “Just like my red hair, I hope to show you all my firery passion on this very stage.”

He was ready to get into position until he heard some cheering and hooting from the contestant section and he knows Jooyoung’s voice more than anything and he flushed only slightly before trying to ignore it and focus on his performance.

With a nod of his head and the microphone in hand, he got into position. He quickly looked towards the direction of his friends briefly and wished they could hold his hand or something. He even glanced over at his brother, Jooyoung, and was surprised to see the older with the utmost attention on him. It made him feel shy but maybe just a tad braver. He wanted to show Jooyoung what he was capable of and what he had missed out on for the years he was gone.

Taking a deep breath again, Seungmin let the music filter in before lifting up the microphone to his lips and started singing.

I used to believe We were burnin' on the edge of somethin' beautiful Somethin' beautiful Sellin' a dream Smoke and mirrors keep us waiting on a miracle On a miracle Say, go through the darkest of days Heaven's a heartbreak away Never let me down, never let me down

It’s an English song because Seungmin feels very comfortable doing a cover like that. It’s actually a mashup of Justin Bieber’s Let Me Love you, Mario’s Let Me Love You and Ne-Yo’s Let Me Love You. Overall, it’s a slower mashup rendition of the three faster paced songs. But Seungmin likes to think that it matches quite nicely with a slower tempo. He’s not here to play any games.

Don't you give up, nah-nah-nah I won't give up, nah-nah-nah Let me love you Let me

Seungmin doesn’t move around much on stage. His performance wasn’t meant to be that flashy or showy. He wanted to showcase his vocals off more than anything.

Should let me love you Let me be the one to Give you everything you want and need The good love and protection Make me your selection Show you the way love's supposed to be

One hand on the mic and the other hand resting where his heart is and singing with his whole damn chest. Seungmin needed to bare everything out. In front of himself, his brother, his friends, the CEOs. He didn’t want to be that same shy boy who was terrified of standing on stage. He was different now. He knew he had what it took to be an MGA winner. He just had to make it.

Girl let me love you And I will love you Until you learn to love yourself Girl let me love you I know you are trouble Don't be afraid, girl let me help

Seungmin locked eyes with each and every CEO glancing at them briefly before looking elsewhere. Lifting his hand off his chest, he brought it up so he was holding the microphone with both hands.

Much as you blame yourself, you can't be blamed for the way that you feel

Surprisingly enough, Seungmin’s voice is a lot more melodic and honey-like than he originally lets on. He looks like a handsome and dandy kind of boy but doesn’t seem like he offers much. But when he sings, it’s a different side of him that people ought to know and hear. He wants to let his voice be heard as much as possible.

Girl let me love you And I will love you Until you learn to love yourself Don't you give up, nah-nah-nah I won't give up, nah-nah-nah Let me love you

The end of the song slowed down once again but he sang in such a gently sweet voice that matched with the aesthetic of the song. Maybe his voice wasn’t as good as other people’s choices. It was slower and you had to really be able to command the attention of everyone in the room. He wanted that more than anything. When he sang the last line, Seungmin slowly let down the mic from his lips and exhaled out in relief that that part was over. It all rest in the CEOs hands now.

Quickly bowing profusely at the CEOs and thanking them for listening and watching his performance, Seungmin managed his way back to his seat. He grabbed onto Jisung’s hand first and squeezed tight before making it back to his seat. He shut his eyes closed and immediately his hand found Jeongin’s to hold in the meantime. It was certainly an experience and he couldn’t help it how his hands were shaking considerably now. He’s thankful to have stayed strong during his performance but now he could maybe breathe just a little more and get the jitters out of him.

[jercythesiscrying]

Of Crushes and Cliches | Poly first-years, G, 2.1k

NaNoWriMo Day 17: Staple Phrases

Summary: Five times Hinata realizes he has a crush on his teammates, and one time he realized they had a crush on him too.

Literally just chock-full of fic cliches as inspired by this post and then some.

Read on Ao3

A/N: FUCKIN FINALLY FINISHED THIS FIC  \o/  UN-BETA'D BUT IDC I'M REJOICING. Shout-out to the Stream Team for constantly indulging me with fic ideas because I got so stuck on this gd fic. Chalk up any ooc-ness to the fact that fic cliches sometimes end up ooc???  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It takes a while for Shouyou to realize he may have a thing for his fellow first-years.

Like, a long while. Like over the span of months.

It should have been obvious, but Shouyou’s not the brightest, so he counts it as a win that he realized he was feeling things in the first place.

— 1: For Tobio —

The first time Shouyou notices is with Kageyama. He’s always been taller, more built than Shouyou, and Shouyou tries to reason that he was bound to find that attractive after hanging around his partner so much.

During break one practice, Kageyama stretches his arms above his head, hands curled into fists. Shouyou watches absent-mindedly, drinking from his water bottle when his eyes catches Kageyama’s shirt riding up, flashing a strip of skin. Shouyou can see his lower abdomen, where a smattering of dark hair disappears below his shorts –

Shouyou chokes on his water.

“Hinata!” Yachi exclaims. “Are you okay?”

He nods his head despite his coughing. “I’m”—cough—“fine!”

Shouyou continues to choke, hand slapping at his chest instinctively. Eventually, the coughing subsides, and he clears his throat with an apology.

“Dumbass.”

He turns to see Kageyama rolling his eyes at him, noticing that his shirt fully covers his torso once more. When Kageyama walks away, Shouyou forces himself to tear his eyes away from the setter and fails, drawn towards his partner’s ass by his body’s own volition.

He tries not to think too hard about his newfound fixation.

— 2: For Tadashi —

The next time he notices is with Yamaguchi.

The other middle blocker invited Shouyou over to his house for desserts, and Shouyou was hyped up because, duh, free sweets are always exciting!

“Thanks for coming, Hinata!” Yamaguchi says as they step into the genkan.

Shouyou mumbles a soft Ojamashimasu as they toe out of their shoes.

Yamaguchi continues, “Tsukki’s busy so I’m glad someone can try this cake for me!”

“It’s fine! Thanks for inviting me, Yamaguchi.” He smiles wide, hoping to show his sincerity.

He takes in Yamaguchi’s home: neat, small but homey. Yamaguchi walks down the hallway, waving Shouyou forward.

“Come in! The cake’s in the kitchen!”

He follows Yamaguchi into the kitchen, padding across the living room. When he sniffs, he lets the sweet smell of cake lead him.

“You can take a seat,” Yamaguchi chirps, digging into the fridge. As Shouyou slides into one of the chairs by the kitchen table, the other boy asks, “Is milk okay?”

“Sure!”

Yamaguchi places two glasses of milk on the table while Shouyou eyes the frosted cake.

“It’s strawberry shortcake!” Yamaguchi says. “Tsukki would usually share with me but, like I said, he’s busy today. Oh! Let me get some plates.”

“He’s missing out,” Shouyou mumbles, licking his lips.

Yamaguchi returns with two plates, two forks, and a cake knife. He cuts two even slices, placing a plate in front of Shouyou.

“Alright, ittadakimasu! ”

“Ittadakimasu! ”

Shouyou scoops a piece of cake onto his fork, biting into it. He gasps at the flavour.

“Woah, it’s amazing!”

Next to him, Yamaguchi moans. Shouyou immediately freezes.

“Mmm, so good!” Yamaguchi sighs, eyes fluttering closed.

Shouyou quietly watches with wide eyes as Yamaguchi eats his cake, tongue peaking out to occasionally lick his lips. Sometimes, he lingers with his lips around the fork, as if he can’t get enough of it entering his mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, his cheeks are so full that Shouyou starts to notice the freckles spread across his face, peppered like constellations in a starry sky.

Shouyou gulps, wincing when he realizes that his throat is suddenly dry.

“Hinata?” Yamaguchi says. “Is the cake okay? You’ve only had one bite.”

Shouyou snaps out of his reverie, gaze whipping to the milk in front of him. He grabs the drink, gulping it down.

“Sorry!” he mumbles. “Just, uh, thirsty.” He tries not to blush at Yamaguchi’s adorably confused expression. “It’s good though, I promise!”

Yamaguchi beams, and Shouyou hopes that his hammering heartbeat isn’t as loud as it seems.

He’s grateful that Yamaguchi doesn’t make any more obscene noises after that.

— 3: For Hitoka —

Then it happens again with Yachi.

She’s visiting Shouyou’s home for a tutoring session. Normally he and Kageyama would do them at her place, but with his mom out and Natsu home alone Shouyou had no choice but to stay. He’s grateful that Yachi agreed to make the trip all the way over to his house, and surprised that Kageyama agreed to come at all.

It’ll be good training for me, Kageyama said. Extra cardio when I walk home. Shouyou only rolled his eyes.

Now, though, Kageyama’s taking a nap on the floor. Next to him is Natsu, who was busy having her hair braided by Yachi until she also fell asleep. It’s almost gross how cute Shouyou finds it.

Out loud, he says, “Aww, I can’t believe that jerk passed out on us!”

Yachi laughs. “Well, as long as it doesn’t happen every time we study, it’s okay.” She grins at Shouyou. “I’ll make an exception for today.”

When she continues to beam at him, Shouyou gulps, averting his gaze before he says something dumb like how pretty Yachi is when she smiles.

“Hinata, are you okay?” she asks, crawling over to where he sits on the other side of the table.

Shouyou definitely does not squeak. That was totally not a squeak.

“Uh, y-yeah! Just fine!” he blurts out. He makes a show out of stretching his arms and back. “I guess I’m tired too, or something...”

Yachi hums, considering him. He tries not to gulp under her scrutiny.

“Hm, before she fell asleep, Natsu-chan said she also wanted me to do your hair.” She grins again, but this time there’s a hint of mischievousness that Shouyou’s not used to seeing on her.

“Yachi-san,” he pleads, “it’s fine, seriously, you don’t have to listen to Natsu—”

“But Hinata,” she whines, and—oh god, is she pouting now?—Shouyou is not going be okay after this, “how could I ever say no to her?”

“She’s asleep!”

“When she wakes up she’ll be very upset!”

Shouyou groans, cheeks flushing red. Yachi continues to look at him with her bottom lip jutting out, and he sighs.

“Ugh, fine,” he relents, “but my hair is nowhere near as long as Natsu’s.”

Yachi scoots over with a bag of Natsu’s hair clips before kneeling behind him.

“That’s okay! I’m not going to do anything drastic.”

She cards her fingers through her hair, and Shouyou sits as still as he possibly can. His heart races at her soft touches, delicate fingers slightly scraping his scalp. He closes his eyes, hoping to get lost in the feeling. She moves around him to place hair clips where she deems fit, not that Shouyou notices because he’s too busy trying to control his breathing.

“Ta-da!” she eventually announces. “All done!”

Shouyou releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

He slowly opens his eyes to see Yachi holding Natsu’s Ketty-chan mirror in front of him, and he tries not to grimace at the pigtails in his hair. He guesses he looks cute, definitely a lot like his sister, but that’s kinda the last thing he wants to look like.

“So?” Yachi asks expectantly. “Good enough for Natsu-chan?”

She’s beaming so brightly at him that he can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah!” he says warmly. “It looks great, Yachi.”

Later, when Kageyama and Natsu wake up to find him covered in glittery clips and brightly coloured hairties, he whines way less than he normally would at their teasing because it’s well worth Yachi’s satisfied giggling.

— 4: For Tsukishima —

He finally clues in because of the solar eclipse.

“Oh no,” Tsukishima—the giant douchebag—deadpans, “it’s starting.”

He slowly starts to lean back against Shouyou, back pressing into his face and resting his entire weight onto him. Tsukishima is basically a beanpole, but he’s a 190cm beanpole, and Shouyou can not hold up his entire weight.

They’re supposed to be warming up for their practice match but instead Shouyou is trying not to suffocate.

“STINGYSHIMA!” he yells, trying to push against Tsukishima. “GET OFF! YOU’RE HEAVY!”

“But the solar eclipse is happening,” Tsukishima says, and even though he’s drawling in his usual deadpan Shouyou can tell that Tsukishima is smiling.

Which would be a whole other problem if Shouyou wasn’t being crushed by 68kg of Karasuno’s main middle blocker.

“GWAH!! Tsukishima!” Shouyou tries again, but the bastard doesn’t stop. Shouyou growls. “I hate you so much!”

“Sucks to suck, Shorty.”

The only good thing is that Tsukishima smells nice. Shouyou doesn’t have a choice but to breathe him in because his face is pressed against Tsukishima’s back, but his teammate smells like tea, laundry softener, and also something uniquely himself. Probably sweat, if Shouyou had to think about it.

He doesn’t get the chance to because Tsukishima continues to lean back against him.

“Gaaah!! I’m gonna fall!!” he shouts desperately. His footing is already starting to slip from Tsukishima’s weight. “Tsukishima, I’m serious!!”

“Ugh, you suck,” Tsukishima retorts, but he thankfully stands up straight again.

Shouyou thought all he’d feel was relief now that he’s not supporting Tsukishima’s weight anymore, but instead he realizes he’s kinda sad. He doesn’t think he ever had that much physical contact with Tsukishima before, and while it was at the cost of Shouyou’s dignity, it was also really nice, which is both really confusing and also making his heart race.

He glares at Tsukishima, hoping to hide his growing embarrassment.

“You jerk!” he groans, straightening himself out. He quickly smoothes over the wrinkles in his uniform where Tsukishima kept squishing him.

Tsukishima scoffs, lips curling upward in a lopsided smile. It’s not quite his usual smirk, more soft and—fond? Which can’t be right because Shouyou doesn’t think Tsukishima particularly likes him, much less is fond of him.

“Hmph, I guess who have more strength than I give you credit for,” he says, and this time Shouyou picks up a hint of pride in Tsukishima’s voice, which also can’t be right because all the dickhead does is make fun of him. There’s no way Tsukishima is proud of him over something dumb like this.

Right?

He continues to glare at Tsukishima, who looks back down at him, and in their stand-off Shouyou really gets a good look into Tsukishima’s eyes. His golden orbs are alight with amusement, kinda like when he gets into those weird, flirty rivalries with an opponent’s middle blocker.

In the middle of Shouyou internally exploding at the thought of Tsukishima flirting with him, he leaves because Yamaguchi calls him away, and Shouyou is left slightly dumbfounded at this new development.

— 5: For all of them —

Somehow, he makes the connection just before Valentines’ Day.

He has a really hopeless crush on four of his teammates. He doesn’t know how it happened, but it did and now Shouyou has a choice to make:

Either ignore all of it and continue being stupidly awkward around them, or act on his feelings and hope that none of them are mad at him.

He buys them Valentines’ Day chocolate insanely stressed because he actually tries to buy something special for each of them. Chocolate chip candies for Kageyama that apparently go well with the milk he likes; simple truffles for Yamaguchi; a box-set for Yachi with a really pretty design that he thinks she’ll like; and strawberry shortcake flavoured M&Ms for Tsukishima.

It’s over-the-top and Shouyou definitely spent like a month’s worth of allowance on four different people.

But he also really, really likes his teammates a lot.

On the 14th, he skips down the hallways with his schoolbag full of chocolate, humming a silly song to himself as he deposits each gift into a locker. Surprisingly, he’s way less nervous about giving Valentines’ Day chocolate than he thought he’d be.

Then he finally finishes his deliveries, and the panic sets in. He rushes to the bathroom afterwards and hopes for the best.

— &1: For Shouyou —

On White Day, after a month full of even more fumbling and Shouyou generally acting like an idiot in front of all his crushes (and his classmates, and the volleyball team, and some of their opponents), Shouyou finds his fellow teammates standing by his locker.

He can see them from down the hall, talking amongst each other about something Shouyou can’t make out, all of them with varying shades of blush on their faces.

Walking towards them, he wonders why everyone is so tinkled pink until he notices the box of chocolates in Yachi’s hand. He gasps when he eyes the card taped on and makes out everyone’s signatures written on it.

Apparently the noise makes his presence known.

“Hinata-kun!”

“Hinata!”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hurry up so we can give this to you, dumbass.”

The four of them crowd close, pulling him into a chaotic hug that’s all elbows and squeezing, and he’s sure his skin is bruising from where the chocolate box is digging into his side.

But Shouyou wouldn’t have it any other way.

(More notes on Ao3.)

[eclissy]

In the Space Between his Eyes and Nose

Written a million years ago, this thing about Ash meeting his “Son” from the future. Not gonna put this into the tag cause I have more thinking power than i did as a baby. 

Also reposted for the df “Writing” meme title post.

In all his starry eyed wonder at the world that had gotten so much larger since the day the Falconreach bridge split, Ash could argue that his smile was always the widest when his best friend came running with his name on her breath.

The Hero, Ty, was heading his way, waving her arm in greeting and excitement. Ash couldn’t help but jump up from his seat by the fountain to go meet her.

“Ty! You’re back,” Ash approached, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed again. He couldn’t keep using the ‘it was windy today’ excuse over and over. “What were you up to all da—“

And coming up right behind Ty were two things that could wipe the smile off of Ash’s lips without a trace. Number one being the tiny bouncing red ponytail of a very angry Aria and number two being the grinning face of a handsome young stranger.

It was like walking up to a double decker nightmare.

“Ash, you won’t believe it!” Ty, her blue eyes alight with giddiness, hugged Ash tightly. The boy was still staring at her two other companions in a cross between confusion and lurking disappointment.

It was not an expression fit for a warm Spring day.

“I can’t believe it either so it’s not true!” Aria near shouted, close to stamping her feet. The man standing beside her stifled a giggle while the passing townsfolk quickly skittered away from the impending mess.

“Uh, what?” There wasn’t any real reason for Ash to ask what was happening. It was obvious wasn’t it? The Hero had found a dashing fellow that was probably a knight who had saved fifty princesses and a King’s pet gopher and now the two were going to get married.

Ty and the pretty boy getting married. Not Ty and the gopher. Ash could get away with cooking the gopher.

Give Ash five years and he could have been that dashing fellow. Oh, that was a sad thought. It literally sucked the color out of his skin.

The young man snickered harder behind his palms which then prompted Aria’s sour frown to become sharp enough to pierce through ribs. Namely Ash’s.

The boy adventurer gulped and that was the time Ty chose to pull back from the hug and say “This is my son! He fell into our time from the future!”

Standing there openmouthed, Ash froze while Ty waited or an answer. Time travel wasn’t such a strange thing in a place like Lore. In fact, Ash’s reaction was arguably stranger. She wondered if her friend was having a stroke but suddenly, the life burst back into Ash’s face and he cheered.

“Oh thank Lore! I-I mean, wow that’s great Ty! I mean, uh, sorry about you getting stuck here,” Ash turns to the stranger with renewed hope. Aria was already next to Ash, her heel coming to dig into the poor knight-in-training’s foot. “A-ah it’s uh ow nice to ahg meet you!”

Despite the sharp pain and dizzying mood flips, Ash was ready to do backflips.

All at once, the young man went from being a looming threat to a figure of awe and possibility.

“I’m Doran, it’s nice to meet you. People always tell me ‘Doran, as in the explorer?’ and I die a little inside but that’s fine. We all die eventually anyways.” Doran grinned, regarding Ash as he inspected the visitor from the future like he was a mirror.

Doran was taller than Ty and Ash for now but he had the same jet black hair as his soon-to-be mother. The same sheen was there too but Ash could say that the way Doran’s smooth locks moved when he laughed would have been something he saw everyday…if his hair was longer. But Ash wasn’t grasping at straws; it was true! Doran’s eyes might have been fern green but the space between them and his nose matched Ash’s exactly!

It may have been early but Ash was proud. All he could see on Doran’s face were smile lines. He must be enjoying his life.

“Shouldn’t we shake hands?” Doran asked, gently pushing Ash out of his daze. Startled but only a tiny bit flustered, Ash nodded eagerly and extends his hand. Aria immediately slaps it down. She was fast for a kid but she did train some scary pets after all.

By the fire in the tiny redhead’s eyes, most of those pets were likely to attack him in his sleep tonight. Bye bye, toes.

“Shouldn’t you be giving me some hints about your dad?” Ty teased, saving Ash for the time being.

Ash could have sworn he saw a glint in Doran’s eye right before he scratched the back of his head, feigning discomfort.

“Aw, mom. You know I can’t do that and besides—“Doran winked at Ash. “I’m sure you found him already.”

And Ash’s chest swelled so fast, Aria would have popped it if she had a pin with her.

“You tease,” Ty reached up to tug on her future son’s ears. “When you’re born, I’m going to feed you nothing but mashed peas.”

“I’d rather murder children!” Doran protested and Ash’s chest deflated as fast as the heat left Aria’s cheeks.

There was a stretch of silence before Ty tugged on Doran’s ears harder.

“Yowch! It was a joke, I swear!” The young man half whined half laughed. Neither Ash nor Aria could tell if he meant that or was just saying it to get his mom off his case. “But in all seriousness, I can’t stick around long but I’m glad that I got to see you all.” He pulls his mother’s fingers off of his puffy red ears and leans down to kiss her forehead.

All of the knight-in-training’s worries disappeared. Why was he even worried in the first place?

“Especially you, Ash Dragonblade,” Doran continues, taking Ash’s hand to shake and this time, Aria didn’t stop him. “I’m glad I got to find out that your eyes were chestnut brown.”

“What?” Ash wheezed but Doran kept his hand trapped. That was a miracle in of itself that it stayed stuck in Doran’s fingers since Ash’s hand had become clammy and soaked in sweat seconds after those sincere words.

“I don’t think it’ll be dangerous to this time to mention it but—“Doran lowered his chin, temporarily lost in happy memories. “My brothers and sisters, and I were always happy when you were around. The moment we heard your BBQ Prong hands click together, we would rush out to greet you.”

Ty and Aria would have said something but both of their throats felt like someone had stuck termite ridden driftwood into them. Ash was too busy imagining himself as a blind metal crab.

“Uh…any reason why I have those uh those prong hands?” Ash laughed nervously, hoping he wasn’t sweating waterfalls.

“I didn’t like your old hands.” Doran answered without missing a beat. “Not sure what happened to your eyes.”

“Doran!” Ty exclaimed while Aria was making up an excuse about needing to go see if the fish needed a bath.

“Kidding again!” Doran snickered, tugging hard enough on Ash’s arm to mess up his footing. The boy stumbled and found Doran’s arm around his shoulders all buddy buddy like. “Did I scare you too much? Sorry about that, Dragonblade.”

“I wasn’t scared. It was only a joke.” Ash managed not to stutter those words but the moment Doran looked back at him, he was thankful he missed lunch.

Doran was still smiling but the side of his smirk was like the curled tip of a hunting knife and with his eyes narrowed in such a condescending way, it reminded Ash of the same look on a certain wanted poster hung up on the inn’s wall.

“Dra…Drak…Dra—“ Ash began to stammer, earning confuse looks from both of his friends.

“Dragon?” Doran’s voice twisted to sound like it was worried. “You see a dragon coming our way?”

“Dragon?” Aria’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t see any dragon.” Ty frowned, scanning the horizon and the space directly above Falconreach for any sign of a shadow.

“There—“ Ash stopped mid-warning, feeling a cold sharp point poking him.

“Well, always be sure than be Dragon Chow, right?” Doran said and though it was a bit stiff, Ash’s nod got the two girls to make a head-start for the Guardian Tower.

“Figures, my son from the future swings by and we have to go slay a dragon.” Ty sighed.

“It’ll be a family—“The point of the hidden blade digs hard enough into Ash’s skin to make him wince. “—activity for all of us.”

Once Ty and Aria were too far away to hear, Doran let what looked like the largest hunting knife in existence fall out of his sleeve. He catches the handle and presses the freezing metal against the underside of Ash’s chin.

“The skin under the chin is the softest,” Ash and Doran said at the same time, repeating the advice Ty had once given them. No doubt, the man who gave Doran the knife had heard the same. “Keep it safe or you’ll end up bleeding out like a pig.” Doran finished by himself, that pleasant smile still plastered on like a flashing warning.

It was scary how intense the waves of loathing could come off someone with something so nice on their handsome face. It was like looking at a bundle of daisies while a snake hissed, hidden under the petals.

“Mom likes you, Dragonblade. She really does. I do too!” Doran chimes, letting the side of his head nestle against Ash’s in a mockery of affection. “I just like you as far away from mom as possible but I think you got the message already, right? Riiiiight?”

Ash felt awful all over and Doran’s kind and soothing voice only made his head hurt.

Before the knight in training could actually say anything, the point of the knife slipped from his chin, over his shoulder, and back as Doran leisurely stepped back.

“How was that?” Doran asked, placing his hand on his hip. “Was that scary?”

“H-huh?” Ash gurgled, heart beating like it was trying to escape his rib cage. “That was another joke?”

“Well, yeah,” Doran taps his head with the flat side of his knife. “And it was a bit of practice with lying. You gotta have fun if you want to get anywhere with your skills you know. Or maybe that’s just the easy way with some things.” The boy mused but Ash was so far from tickled purple by Doran’s antics, he was surprised he was still on Lore.

“Wow, Uncle Ash. You get all splotchy like dad does when he gets mad,” Doran said the last thing Ash wanted to hear. “Sorry about that too but hey, you’re still our uncle so there’s that. Oh!” His shoulders rose as he suddenly remembered something. “And there’s this too.”

Doran slaps something wet and slimy into Ash’s hand and the boy grasps the thing instinctively. Mind already muddled from the barrage of overly heinous jokes, Ash squinted at what looked like an oversized wet bean.

“What is this?” Ash asked.

“It’s your kidney.”

Remembering how the knife had slipped behind him, Ash felt stabbing pains in his lower back and yelped. Falling to the ground, the kidney slipped out of his hand and bounced with a wet sound on the grass.

It was a good five minutes of mindless panicking before Ash realized that there was no bleeding flap of skin slowly killing him. By then Doran had sat down cross-legged to watch the show.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Ash demanded, somewhere dangerously close to tears.

“Because I love you Uncle Ash. We never got to play much back in my present,” Doran grinned again, making Ash see stars. He could understand why his future self didn’t want to play that much with this boy.

“Mom and Aunt Aria are probably wondering where that dragon is so I’ll be going now. And before I forget—“ Doran pointed at the drying kidney. “That’s not your kidney.”

“I know.” Ash groaned.

“It’s your mom’s.”

“What on Lore? Are you serious?”

“Probably. Probably not.” Doran shrugged as he got up, dusting the grass off of his pants. “You should probably go visit her every now and then. That’s what a good son does. Anyways, I’ll be going to see my mom so I’ll catch you later, you chicken cow penis with eyes. Have fun kissing sunbeams and ten year olds.”

Struck dumb, Ash gaped at the back of the boy from the future walking away and regretted how he seen a reflection of himself between those eyes and that nose.

[thebrotherscupheadandmugman]

Santa Cup, That’s Me!

Happy Holidays! This wasn’t supposed to be half as long as it turned out to be, and I got the idea literally Christmas Eve and have been working on it since. Sorry it’s late, but way better late than never!!

When I originally started writing this, it was going to take place in the current year this blog is in, 1935, but since it’s so long and elaborate, we’ll consider this the Christmas special of my rewriting, placing it in 1934. 

I also hid a few Easter Eggs here and there. See how many you can find! On that note, always keep in mind that none of the characters (except for Sue, Logan, and Tick and Tock,) belong to me, and that Reblogs > Likes! 

Cuphead and Mugman were nestled quietly in their beds, eagerly awaiting the dawn of Christmas Morning. Cuphead always had trouble sleeping Christmas Eve, and this time was no different. He’d begged both Mugman and Santa for an electric train set, and he was almost certain he was getting one!! The boy tossed and turned in his bed, trying to sleep,but not being able to. 

Suddenly, Cuphead heard something clop clop clopping on the roof. The child shot straight up out of his head as he listened closely to the sounds. Clop clop clop. Jingle jingle jingle. There was only one way these sounds could be coming from the roof above his head. Santa.  “Mugs!!” Cuphead whispered, jumping out of bed and over to shake his brother awake. “Mugs, Mugs, wake up! Santa’s here! Wake up wake up!” “Cuphead?” Mugman mumbled with a sleepy sort of snort.  “Mugman wake up, wake up!! Santa’s here! Santa’s here!! We should catch him and say thanks!!” 

Cuphead dragged his brother out of bed, and pulled him downstairs and down to the Christmas Tree, hoping to catch Santa before he climbed back up the Chimney.

But alas, it seemed the brothers just barely missed him. Cuphead couldn’t help but peak under the Christmas tree and...no train. Talk about disappointing, but Cuphead was still going to thank Santa if he could! “Maybe we can catch him outside!”

The brothers rushed outside, just to see--

There he was. Santa Claus. In the flesh and fur coat. Cuphead never thought he’d see the real Santa! Usually it was just Brineybeard or some other old geezer posing as Santa. The boys could hardly contain themselves.  “SANTA!!” Cuphead shouted. “Ho ho?!” As Santa turned around, his foot slipped on the snowy roof, and he quickly fell off and onto the ground with a loud thud before Cuphead could say ‘thank you!’ The brothers gasped, terribly frightened at what had just happened. “SANTA!!” They both cried, rushing over to his body. “Cuphead, he’s not moving!!”  “Golly, Mugs!! What are we gonna do?!” “We just killed Santa!! No, worse!! We just ruined Christmas for every other kid!!” Cuphead was on the verge tears.”

Cuphead grabbed his brother’s cheeks and looked him right in the eyes.  “There’s only one thing we can do. Hide the body and take his place.” “I-- Cuphead we can’t just--” “Do ya really wanna go ta prison fer th’rest of yer life because we literally killed the Santa Claus?” “No, not really...” Mugman mumbled as he began to consider it. He didn’t particularly want to think about how to hide the body of St. Nick, but what choice did he have?

Mugman eventually sighed. “Fine! But we need to deliver these presents first!!” “Gimme a boost, let’s get up to the sleigh and we’ll look at the list!” “Right!” Mugman nodded, lifting his little brother onto his shoulders, so that the younger could reach the roof with his hand and climb up. “Cup, help me up!” Without another word, Cuphead planted his straw in the snow, to have something to keep him from slipping himself, and grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him up.  “Let’s get to th’sleigh!” The brothers quickly and carefully crawled up the snowy roof and climbed into Santa’s red sleigh. “How does this work?” Asked Cuphead. Mugman looked around in the sleigh and unrolled a long list of names and addresses of citizens on Inkwell.  “It looks like this is his nice list.” Cuphead opened up the large red sack of gifts behind the seat, only to reveal more sacks of gifts, each in a different colored bag.  “All these bags are different!” “Looks like it’s color coated. How did he do that?” Mugman pondered quietly.

“Alright, here’s the plan! If we split up and cover more ground, we can get all of Isle One done in no time!” Mugman decided.  “How?! We can’t carry all these to the houses outside of the village on foot! They’re too far away!” “I didn’t say we’d be walking.” “Mug! Are you nuts?! We don’t know how to drive this thing!!” “I mean we’ll use our Aeroplanes!” Mugman reasoned. “You start off at the main village and get the residents in town, Like Clara Candlewick and Billy Baker! I’ll take care of the spread-out houses, like Mac and Honey Crisp, and Carrie Blossom!” “Gotchya! I’ll take the big sack in my plane! You just take what you need inta yours!” “Perfect! Let’s save Christmas for Inkwell!”

So the brothers made quick work and took over for St. Nick. Clad in their scarves, earmuffs, and goggles, they flew around above Isle one, landing on the rooftops of each house, and delivering the presents to the folks inside as quietly as they could. Cuphead would often find a bunch of houses close together, and jumped from rooftop to rooftop to deliver each set of gifts. Meanwhile Mugman would have to be careful and quick, since each house was so isolated from the next, if they even had a house at all. He was rather surprised Cagney celebrated Christmas, much less wrote a letter to Santa at all.

“Isle Two next?” Cuphead asked. “Yeah. Thankfully very few people actually live there outside of who we already know, so this should be quick and easy.” Mugman informed, reading over the list as he sat in his grounded plane. “Heck, Wally and Djimmi’s names are under the same address for some reason, so that’s one less stop than we’d already have to make!” “Swell! We should do Wally’s house last, our planes would prolly wake him up.” “Good thinking, Cup! Let’s make tracks!” With that, the ceramic duo were off again, quietly creeping about the isle and delivering all the gifts to good girls and boys within the closed carnival.

That was until the boys hit a roadblock at the Warbles’ house. As the two somehow managed to sneak past a sleeping Wally and climb down the chimney, the brothers fell right into a net, and tumbled out with a loud clink and a poof of soot and ash. “Cuphead, what did you do?!” Mugman coughed, trying to maintain a whisper. “I didn’ do nothin’!” Cuphead hacked. “Somethin’ grabbed me!” The two struggled to break free of the fishnet they were entangled in, pushing and kicking against the ropes in attempts to break free. Mugman hadn’t thought to grab his Charge Shot, so he couldn’t use that to break the ropes, all he had was the Peashooter, which were too small to rely on now. “Cups, did you bring the Lobbers?” “I-I think I left it in my bag at home! But I have the Roundabouts!” “You’ll hit me with that before you break the nets!” 

With all the ruckus and coughing from nearby, a little chick began to stir and open his eyes. Santa came. And he fell right into his trap.  “Puphead! Wake up!” The chick whispered, shaking the wooden boy next to him awake. Puphead slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a sleepy yawn. 

As the smoke cleared, and the porcelain brothers were revealed to be the ones caught in Junior’s trap, Puphead and Junior were shocked to see that it hadn’t been Santa after all, yet they did have a blue-green bag of gifts with them. “What’re you two twit’s doin’ here?! You tryin’ ta steal our Christmas presents?! Is dat it?!” Junior accused, marching over to the brothers. “Wuh-oh.” “Busted!” Mugman turned his head to look at Junior. “N-no! You’ve got it all wrong, we--” “Ooh, my dad was right about yous two!! Just wait until I tell him! Then you’ll really be sorry!!” The chick took a deep breath as Puphead covered his ears, knowing that he would scream for Wally. “No, no, Junior wait!!” “Junior! Stop! We’re tryin’ ta help Santa!!” Junior paused at that. “Wuffor?” He toyed. “He, erm, hurt himself! He twisted his ankle on a piece of firewood sticking out by our chimney, and he can’t climb down chimneys no more! So we’re helping him in our Aeroplanes until he can climb again!” Cuphead lied. “Just let us out, we still got Isle Three ta do!!” “Uh huh...And why should I believe you?” Puphead tugged on Junior’s arm at his suspicion, fully believing the story. “What is it? You believe dis crap?” Puphead nodded, and pointed to the sack in the net that the brothers had. “What the toys dey stole?!” Puphead shook his head and pointed to the fireplace. Junior’s eyes widened. “I...Gosh Puphead, yer right! Dere’s no way they could have taken the gifts before setting off the trap!”  “Junior, untie us, please! We need to hurry up and get started on Isle Three before morning comes!!” Mugman pleaded, looking at his watch. “It’s already almost 11:30! We only have 30 minutes to get the whole entire city!!”  “What?” Junior questioned, already starting to open the net. “Ya think dat da whole city’s gonna just get up at midnight ta open presents?” “No...” Mugman answered, “but someone might!” "Man, you two really are dumb! Ain’ no one gonna get up at midnight ta open gifts, most people’ll be asleep still! I’d say dat the earliest kids are gon’ wake up is at least tree AM. Ya twits still gots time!” “Yeah, but not much! Do ya even know how many people live in th’big city?!” Cuphead pointed out.

Puphead grabbed both of Junior’s shoulders as the brothers were released, and looked at his friend with pleading eyes. Junior turned his head at the touch, and looked the puppet in the eyes for a few moments before he sighed. “Yer right. Tree ‘n a half hours ain’t enough time fer just th’ two ah yas ta cover the entire city.” Junior placed his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest. “But maybe da four of us can make it!” He proclaimed valiantly. “Hot dawg, you’ll really help, Junior?!” Mugman cried. “On one condition! Ya leave dat sack ‘ere fer me ta examine!” “Deal!” The brothers said. “I’ll get my nest! Puphead, yer with me!” Puphead jumped up and down excitedly. 

With the presents unbagged and two new recruits by their side, the four Christmas heroes quickly flew into the city and began their work once again. Apartments, homes, and more, the children were quick to break in and leave their gifts and fill their stockings. Forkington Silverson, Tick and Tock Clocke, Sue Zanshwane, Toby J. Sodor, no house was missed, and no child was forgotten. Every name on the list was crossed out with each house, one by one, and little by little, each house was visited and gifted. 

After what felt like hours of work, the four went back to the carnival and landed. “Junior, you guys got Nancy Nightingale?” “Yup!” “Cup, you went through every apartment in Sally Stageplay’s apartment complex!” “It wasn’t as complicated as the name made it sound!” Mugman snorted at that. “Anybody happen to get Logan Rhythm or Debbie Doll?” “I got Logan!” Cuphead exclaimed, raising his hand, “Puphead n’ I got Debbie!” Mugman crossed off two more names. “Guys! We did it! That’s everyone on Inkwell before two AM!”  “Yahoo!!” Cuphead cheered as Puphead jumped in excitement. “Great. Merry Christmas.” Junior grumbled, trying not to appear as happy as he was feeling. “Puphead, ‘m tired, let’s go home!” Puphead nodded, and walked walked back to Wally’s house with Junior as he waved the brothers good night. “Merry Christmas Junior!” Mugman called. “Merry Christmas Puphead!” 

Cuphead sighed, with a visible breath and turned to his brother.  “Mugsy, ‘m tired too. We should go home and sleep before we wake Elder Kettle.” Mugman was surprised that his little brother was choosing to go to sleep over opening presents on Christmas Morning. Cuphead had to have been really tired to make a decision like that!  “Yeah, we will. I’m freezing anyway. I feel like there’s frozen milk in my straw at this point. Just let me double check to make sure we didn’t miss anyone. “What? Why?” Cuphead asked, already crawling back into his Aeroplane. “You just said we got everyone!” “Santa always checks his list twice! The song Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town says so!” “Wasn’t that written last year?” Cuphead grumbled, before something in Mugman’s plane caught his attention. The giant red sack of toys didn’t look so empty...

As if on cue, Mugman’s straw popped out of his head to form a shivering exclamation point. “Cuphead, we missed someone! A little girl named Evelyn Etting in the village!” “There’s another bag in there! It’s gotta be fer her family!” “Let’s shake a leg!” The brothers cried, hopping into their Aeroplanes and flying as close to the village as possible. 

Unfortunately for them, it began to snow, so they’d have to go into the town and get on the roof by foot due to dangerous weather conditions. The brothers ran as they rushed to her house, Mugman worried about not being able to find a way up to the roof or inside the house. “Look Mug! A ladder!” Cuphead motioned with his whole hand. “It leads up to th’roof!” “That’s swell!” The brothers quickly climbed the ladder of the green house, carefully crossed the roof, and dropped down the chimney with the purple bag of gifts. There was quite a lot to unload, but one the ceramic duo was finished, they each had one cookie and a shared glass of milk, then crawled back out the red bricked chimney.

“Oh Golly! That was a lot.” Cuphead sighed, stretching his back as he stood on the chimney.  “Cuphead, get off the chimney before you fall and shatter yourself.” Mugman scolded. “Golly Mugs! Look at the town from up here! The snow makes it look so nifty!” “Cup. We need to get home before Elder Kettle realizes we’re gone.” “Wait a minute, Mug! We took Santa’s place, right? There’s somethin’ we still gotta say before we go home!” “What? ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night?’ Cuphead, there’s at least five Jewish kids in our school that don’t celebrate Christmas, you’ll just be annoying them if you wake them up for that.” “Maybe, but we can say somethin’ else so that the Jewish don’ feel left out!” “Cuphead, let’s just get off the--” Mugman’s left foot suddenly sank into the snow, causing him to wobble and lift his right foot in the air as he lost his balance. Cuphead, however, didn’t notice, but instead put his left hand up to his mouth as he took a deep breath and cried,

The clock tower chimed with two loud BONGs, and the screen soon faded to the Kettle’s front lawn.

Aeroplanes abandoned for the time being, the two brothers returned home, having forgotten what started this mess in the first place, until Cuphead suddenly remembered. “Mugs! Santa!! Whadda we do about him?!” “Oh no, you’re right!” The brothers began sprinting to where the body once was, but instead of Santa’s motionless carcass, they only found an imprint in the snow of what once was there. “What the-- where’d he go?!” “Cuphead, look!” Mugman jabbed his little brother with his elbow and pointed to the roof with two fingers.

Just as Cuphead looked up, Santa was there, alive and well as if nothing ever happened. He flicked the reigns, and his reindeer galloped off and away, flying overhead as he left Inkwell Isle.

“On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, and Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen!”  “Woah!” The brothers both gasped. “Oh ho ho ho! Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!”

The brothers stood for a moment, before Cuphead suddenly sneezed, not a single drop of milk leaving his head, despite the sudden motion. “Bless you.” “Mugs, did we just get used by Santa?” “I don’t think so. I think he was just knocked out and we took it upon ourselves to help.” “Hitchiew!”  “Bless you. We’d better get inside before we catch a cold.” “Fine.” Cuphead sniffled.

The brothers stepped inside, and were welcomed with a completely different scene than what they had left with. There had been twice as many gifts than before, and their Christmas tree was bigger, brighter, and prettier than ever.  “Wowza...” The brothers both gasped.  “Mugman, look!” Cuphead motioned to a letter in the middle of the tree. Mugman grabbed it and opened it, holding it low enough for Cuphead to read as well. “What’s it say?!”

“Dear Cuphead and Mugman,

You two gave me quite the scare when you suddenly showed up outside. I certainly didn’t expect you to leave the house when you saw the presents.” As Mugman read the note, the voice of Santa himself could be heard, as if he was speaking directly to the brothers.

“I thoroughly appreciate you wanting to thank me for what I do every year, Cuphead, but as always, your actions do not match well with your good intentions. Oh, but don’t worry. It’ll take a little more than just a silly old fall to make jolly old Saint Nick take the big sleep. Thank you so much for putting the rest of Inkwell’s needs before trying to get yourselves out of trouble, boys. Santa’s little helpers not only put Junior Warbles higher up on the nice list, but also made him begin to understand the true meaning of Christmas. 

As thanks, I left you boys extra gifts this year, some perhaps against your grandfather’s wishes. Cuphead, the large red box under this note is for you. After tonight, you’ve certainly been a good enough boy to have earned this: be careful not to spill! Mugman, the round one in blue is yours. I hope you think back to this night whenever you listen to it. 

Never stop striving to do the right thing, regardless of what you fear. Always remember to learn from your mistakes, and do what you believe in. 

Merry Christmas to you both.

Signed,” “Mr. C.”

The brothers looked at each other for a few moments as the heard the floorboards above them creak. Somehow, they must have woken Elder Kettle up. Panicked, the brothers scrambled to kick the snow off their boots, and hide their scarves and earmuffs under the couches. Just as they could hear the stairs creak with their grandfather’s presence, the boys looked at each other and flipped the other’s straw upside down to hide the frozen milk on the other end.  “Boys?” “Elder Kettle, Santa came!” “Have you any idea what the time is?!” “We’re sorry, Elder Kettle, we didn’t wanna wake you.” “Yeah! Mug an’ I were just curious ta see if he came! We were gonna letchya sleep in a little longer!” Cuphead added before he paused, and grabbed his left wrist. “...But since yer up, can we open presents now?!”  “Good gosh, Cuphead.” Mugman sighed, putting a hand on his face. 

Elder Kettle sighed. “I suppose. Since we’re all already up!” He smiled as he continued climbing down the stairs. “Yaay!!” The brothers immediately grabbed the gifts that Santa mentioned in his note, and quickly tore off the paper. Since Mugman’s was so much smaller, it hadn’t taken him long at all to open the record. “What’d ya get, Mugsy?!” Mugman turned the vinyl over in his hand, and read the title out loud. “Santa Claus, That’s Me!...” “Well then, shall we listen to it?” Elder Kettle offered, holding his hand out for the record. Mugman gave his grandpa a smile and nodded as he handed the song to him. Elder Kettle quickly shuffled over to the record player, and put on the song. 

A string followed by jingling bells filled the room, accompanied by Cuphead tearing open the large gift. “Way up above me is The ice and snow where the eyes of no one may see With my dear little men And my wonderful shop Little ole Santa Claus, that’s me!

I’m building my toys For girls and boys A labor of love is mine.  And I’m more than repaid For visits I’ve made When children’s eyes dance and shine!  As time rolls along  With a very old song At work I am always found. For I’m busy each day But in a wonderful way But when Christmas time comes round, 

Then away I go Over the ice and snow To finish my trip before the day is dawning. I’ll carry my pretty toys For all the girls and boys To make them gay and happy Christmas morning!”

Mugman smiled at the song, just as Cuphead had finally unwrapped his present. “An electric train set!!” Cuphead squealed with joy. The child was so thrilled that he hugged the package with small milky tears in his eyes. He’s wanted one of these for years, but Elder Kettle always thought they were dangerous. Elder Kettle was about to scold the boy, and tell him that they’ll have to return it, but seeing his grandson with tears of joy made him choose otherwise. He didn’t have the heart to tell Cuphead he couldn’t have something that made him so happy on Christmas. “I’d better not find that thing left on, young man!”  “Yes! Of course, Elder Kettle!!” Cuphead beamed as he giggled with pure joy. 

The brothers continued opening their gifts, as the snow jingled as it fell down outside. As the picture was zooming away from the Kettle’s house, it soon circled to black, as the cursive words ‘Happy Holidays’ wrote themselves in gold on the screen, before finally fading to black.

[valkyrieofsmut]

All I want for Christmas is a priest   Part 1

Kurt Wagner x Non mutant! OC

Types: Smut, Romance, some angst, holidays

Overall series warnings: Smut, religious references, Priest!Kurt, debauchery of a priest in training, probably inaccurate Catholic references, mentions of past sexual abuse, German (translations provided, but I have bad grammar… Sorry native speakers…) 

A/n-   There are a lot of song lyrics in the story. You can let them wash over you, try to find them, ignore them and think the OC is weird, or just go with it. <3 yous, and merry Christmas, part 2 should be out tomorrow.

 Masterlist

Story!

Kurt straightened his cassock, looking at himself in the mirror, his fingers touching the empty spot where his collar would go. He wouldn’t get it until he was ordained, but the date was drawing closer.

He’d left the X-Men a few years ago, deciding that he would be better able to serve the mutant community by giving them hope and the knowledge that God didn’t hate them.

He looked at the contacts that made it look like he had pupiled, more normal eyes to make sure they were in place, then his eyes moved to his cheek, closely examining the flesh colored make up there to make sure that his blue skin was fully covered. He had hated it at first, but had gotten used to it over the three and a half years he had been in the seminary, training to get to where he was. Now he only had the last six months of practical training, or interning, which he had started a few months ago with a priest, Father Connor, who was about ten years older than himself and knew of his strange appearance.

He opened the door and stepped out of the office leading to the choir seating, only to be washed over by singing. It wouldn’t have been so strange if the church hadn’t been empty except for himself and the priest before he’d gone into the office.

Kurt looked around, seeing a hooded figure in a long coat walking down the aisle, singing. He had frozen, hearing the words.

“Hoppe hoppe Reiter, und kein Engel steigt herab, mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weite, nur der Regen weint am Grab, hoppe hoppe Reiter, eine Melodie im Wind, mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weite, und aus der Erde singt das Kind…”

The German was rolled, rounded, practiced, but the words slightly off, as someone who hadn’t had enough practice speaking the language itself sang them. The low voice was off, as well, like a man speaking in falsetto, only reversed. Maybe a tenor singing a bass’s part, stretching to drop that extra octave to match the low notes.

The hooded figure continued down the aisle, stopping and looking up at the front, dropping to a knee and standing in one motion before heading to the back where the priest’s main office was, never missing a word of the song.

Kurt looked after the figure, wondering what the whole thing was about. He had never seen anyone coming into church in such a manner, and the figure hadn’t seemed very accustomed to Catholic traditions, knowing enough to touch a knee to the ground, but maybe not knowing, or caring, enough on how to do it properly.

The doors to the church opened again and a few ladies entered, giggling among themselves and making their way up to the choir seating. More people filed in, making their way to the chairs waiting for them so they could begin practice.

Kurt watched them, glad that they had accepted him into their church enough to not mind him being so close, but his mind kept straying back to the figure, wondering what they could want, thinking over the whole walk as they went down the aisle to the back office. He couldn’t even be sure of the person’s gender, though the voice and shapeless looking form made him lean heavily toward male.

There was a laugh from the back, and Kurt turned to look as the priest and the hooded figure made their way to the choir seating. Father Connor put a hand on the figure’s shoulder and looked to him.

“This is Kurt. He is new, and we have put him to work as the choir director to help get ready for Christmas.”

The figure waved, but Kurt couldn’t see any features, since the person kept their face down. They turned and walked past the chairs, going to the stairs, pulling the hood back slowly, revealing furry ears.

Kurt was horrified; it appeared that this person was a mutant, physically affected, and they were showing it in front of everyone!

His cheeks started to burn in regretful embarrassment as he remembered that he had spent years fighting with the X-Men, fighting so that physically affected mutants could feel safe and comfortable enough to show themselves without hiding. Still, it was dangerous…

Maybe he had just gotten too used to trying to fit in with makeup...

“Nice hat, still,” one of the ladies commented, a bit of rudeness not really hidden in her tone.

“Not easily offended, know how to let it go, from the mess to the masses...” was the trailing off reply.

The voice was higher now, and Kurt felt more unsure of the gender of the person. He looked away and when he looked back, the person had sat down in one of the chairs on the top row, between the tenors and altos, holding the music in front of them to study it.

Kurt ran the choir practice, paying attention to the music, and not to the mystery person.

As the practice ended, though, Father Connor stepped to the person and stopped them. “Kurt, I’d like you to introduce yourself to our friend.” With that, Father Connor went to where a couple of the patrons were trying to get his attention.

“Hallo,” Kurt greeted, his hands clutched together to let the difference remain unseen.

“Hello,” came the voice, feminine, he thought, or maybe just high for a man… “Reindeer, hello snowman, hello Santa, happy holidays,” the figure finished in a mumble.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Kurt offered after a stunned moment.

“I’ve never seen you either, but I’m like Santa. I only come for Christmas,” was the explanation to Kurt’s silence.

“You only come to church for Christmas?” He asked. “None of the other masses or celebrations?”

The figure looked uncomfortable, looking to the side instead of the floor where they’d been focused. “I don’t belong here... I don’t belong here…”

Kurt hesitated. “Everyone belongs here,” he said.

“No, I mean I don’t go here. I’m not part of the church; I just like singing…”

Kurt tried to get a better look, or any look at all, really, from the figure’s face. He smiled to try to put the person at ease and said, “You must like singing very much.”

“Yes… I’m a second alto, so if you need a tenor, you can ask me.”

“Second alto, hm?” Kurt asked, making note that the person was a woman.

“Yes…”

Father Connor came back to stand next to them as the last of the other choir participants made their way out. “You should stop hiding,” he commented to the woman.

She reached up and tugged off her hat, giving him a look. “I’m not hiding, Father Connor, your church is just very cold.”

Father Connor chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure. You should actually speak to him. Remember what we’ve talked about.”

She rolled her eyes and turned them to Kurt, unzipping her coat and taking it off to let it fall on the floor. She held out her hand for Kurt to shake, looking polite. Kurt carefully took her hand so she didn’t notice that it was different.

“Hello, my name is Liesel, I’m a second alto, so please, call on me if you need another tenor.”

Kurt looked into her mostly green eyes, flecked with brown as they looked at him, not quite connecting. Her shirt was loose around her, leading to show that she carried a little extra weight, and her longish brown hair fell messily around her shoulders. “Liesel?” Kurt asked, surprised at the unusual, and German, name.

“Like the Sound of Music,” she supplied.

“Ah. Is that your favorite musical?” He asked.

“No. I like others more.” Father Connor gave her a look and she rolled her eyes slightly again. “Like the Rocky Horror Picture Show, Hairspray, Nightmare Before Christmas, Little Shop of Horrors…”

Kurt smiled. “Yes, those are some good ones, as well.” Her lip lifted a little. Probably at the thought of a soon to be priest watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

“Kurt, perhaps you can talk to Liesel.” Liesel gave Father Connor a look.

“Oh?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, she has been singing with us for, I believe this is the third year? But, I still have not been able to convince her to come to a regular mass,” he answered.

“Is there a reason?” Kurt asked her.

“Please excuse me, I’ll leave you to talk, I’ve some business in my office,” Father Connor told them.

Liesel sighed and picked up her coat and things, then moved to sit down. Kurt looked at her in question. “He won’t let me be until we talk for at least fifteen minutes,” she told him.

Kurt sat next to her. “Are there any questions you have?”

“No,” she answered. “I’m not part of your church, but I don’t have anything against you. I respect your religion, even if I don’t partake.”

Kurt smiled. “That’s very Christian of you.”

Liesel shrugged. “Sure.”

“Liesel, why is it that you like singing here so much?” He asked.

“I just like singing with a group. I sing with the local city choir, too, but they don’t sing the hymns, like Ava Maria and the like.”

“You like singing hymns?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“What is your favorite?”

“Hard to say, Mary Did You Know isn’t as moving to listen to as it is to sing, I think, but… Hm… Ave Maria, Angels We Have Heard on High, Hark the Herald Angels Sing… Things with a good four part harmony… I’m rather fond of Still Still Still, but I don’t think that counts as a Hymn.”

Kurt nodded. “Liesel, why is it that Father Connor wants you to talk to me, do you think?”

Liesel’s lip twitched up. “He wants me to be nice to you, because being silent can be construed as rude.”

Kurt’s brow raised. “Oh?”

She nodded, then turned to look into his eyes. “I’m also supposed to look you in the eye or face.”

“Is it something you’re trying to work on?”

“I suppose,” she answered.

“What do you mean, you suppose?” Kurt asked.

“That, I believe, is private, due to some law about confession,” Liesel told him, blinking and looking away as her eye twitched. The dry wintery air was starting to make them dry and itchy, even though it was just starting to get to winter temperatures.

Kurt nodded in reply to her, a slight wincing smile lifting his lip as he wondered what she had confessed that would make trying to be socially interactive something she was working on.

A beeping sound came from the woman’s person and she dug through her pocket, pulling out a phone, asking for him to excuse her. “Hello?” She answered. “Well, no- oh! I didn’t- Yes, I’ll be right there,” she told the person before hanging up the phone. “Please excuse me, I’ve got to get going,” she told Kurt, standing and pulling on her coat and eared hat.

Kurt stood and smiled as well. “I’ll see you in a few days for practice, then.”

“Yes, a few days,” she answered, wondering how she’d forgotten that today was the first meeting for the city choir to set up practice.

...    ...    ...     

A few days later, after practice, Kurt stepped to Liesel, knowing that Father Connor wanted him to talk to her, hoping that she’d join the congregation, maybe find what she was missing or something to help her. “Hallo, Liesel.”

“Hello,” she answered quietly.

“May we talk again?” Kurt asked.

She looked up to his eyes, as though appraising him. “I suppose. What do you want to talk about?”

“How about movies?” He asked.

She assented, and they spoke for a while, not noticing that the time was quickly passing them by. Kurt was glad that she seemed to open up a little more, being still hesitant to share and strangely a little standoffish, but less so, especially after they had discussed movies and found that they had quite a few tastes in common.

Kurt made a gesture with his hands, and Liesel's eyes followed one, taking in the appearance, but as soon as his hand disappeared back down, behind his back in nervousness, she looked back to his eyes.

“Yes, but you’ll hear how much better the book was.” Kurt nodded, worried that she would realize that he was a mutant, and then would become afraid and belligerent. “I always try to walk into the movies expecting nothing, accepting that it is a different way to tell the same story. That way, as long as it stays pretty true to the lore and rules in the book, I don't take it too hard.”

Kurt nodded again. “That is a good way to think about it,” he agreed.

Liesel blinked hard, noticing how dark it had gotten. “I should go,” she told him, standing. Kurt stood as well and walked her out.

...    ...    ...    

The next time they spoke about books, and the next about movies, books, and plays they liked. They spent a few weeks like that, and got to know each other more. Slowly, Liesel relaxed around him, becoming more comfortable in his company.

After about a month, Kurt found that he was very fond of the time he got to spend with Liesel, glad that they had been able to become friends.

Liesel also felt some happiness at the amount of time she was getting to spend with Kurt, for some reason looking forward to it, despite knowing that it was only because it was Kurt’s job as a clergyman to attempt to help the downhearted.

.

Snow had fallen thickly over the few days since the last practice, and Kurt was marveling at the beautiful blanket of fresh snow in the courtyard, thinking happily that choir practice would be soon, and he’d get to spend time with Liesel after.

Liesel hefted her foot over the pile of snow next to her car, irritated that she hadn’t had time to change at work. If they would let her off on time instead of making her stay as long as the kids wanted a picture with the Santa crew, she wouldn't be stuck in the ridiculous costume.

She shivered as she hurried to the church, finding Father Connor in the front hall. “F-f-f-f-Father C-Connor,” she greeted.

He turned to her and smiled. “My, don’t you look festive,” he commented, looking down her fuzzy red dress, frilly skirt, elfin tights, and heavy black boots.

“Y-y-yeah… Do you mind if- if I change in the- office?” She asked, trying not to stutter as she rubbed her hands together to try to regain feeling in her numb fingers.

“Of course,” he told her.

“Th-thanks,” she gratefully told him, taking her bag of clothing and heading to the office off of the choir seating.

She quickly pulled off the boots and tights, her frozen and previously wet skin clammy. She bunched up the tights, feeling the wet feet as she pulled the shorts from around them, and pulled the shorts on again before stuffing the tights into her bag. She reached behind her and unzipped the dress, pulling the thing over her head.

Kurt walked down the hallway, eager to get to choir practice and spend time with Liesel after. He stopped in the hall, looking at his hands quickly to make sure they were still covered with makeup before opening the door to the office behind the choir seating.

He looked up, stopping in shock at the beautiful female body in front of him.

Long legs.

Trim figure.

Arms held up.

The red velvet material came off of her head, and long, glowing brown hair cascaded down around her shoulders and ample breasts. Breasts surrounded by silky looking fabric, stomach bare, small shorts over her hips and thighs, bare, smooth legs…

So beautiful…

Kurt’s eyes jumped up to Liesel’s, which were wide in something that looked like terror, as she held the red fabric in front of herself. “I-I-I-” Kurt blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry,” he murmured and stepped back out of the room, closing the door and leaning back against it.

Liesel’s arms fell and the dress landed in front of her as she fell to her knees. She blinked rapidly, looking around. The panic and fight or flight were still flowing through her body. “It’s ok,” she whispered to herself, pulling herself back up. She looked at the door across from her, the one that lead to the hall, and hurriedly pulled her clothes on.

Maybe… Just maybe…

.

Kurt ran the practice, avoiding looking at Liesel, embarrassed about walking in on her, but also embarrassed that her nearly nude body was burned in his mind.

The choir participants started filing out, and Kurt blushed, but stepped up to Liesel as she walked to go past him. “Liesel…” She paused, keeping tabs of his position relative to hers, though it looked like she wasn’t looking at him, and he took that as a sign that she was listening. “I-I’m sorry,” he told her. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t know you were in the office…” He explained, feeling his face heat under the makeup caked over it.

Liesel looked up at him. His hands were twisting nervously, his eyes were sincere, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment, but also in sincerity. Maybe… Maybe he was ok… Liesel felt a slight smile lift her lips. “It’s ok…”

Kurt let out a barely audible sigh of relief. “I’m glad… Liesel… What would you like to talk about today?”

.

Liesel had left, and Kurt had gone to his room, undressing for a shower. He paused, looking at where the makeup stopped, leaving a strange swirling between the flesh color and blue on his forearm.

He stepped into the shower and turned on the water, turning it toward cold as the image of a beautiful, nearly nude Liesel filled his mind.

He had judged her wrongly; she wasn’t plump, as he’d expected. Her breasts were large, making her shirt hang loosely around her and give her the illusion of extra weight, but she was well fit; not too skinny, almost chubby, but right in that perfect spot before, just his preference.

He felt himself reacting to the sexy image, and shook his head, but that only brought the image of her hair falling all around her shoulders and breasts. He drew in a breath, trying to steady himself.

He hadn’t felt the pleasure of his hand for about three years, falling to temptation once or twice just after joining the seminary, and feeling the pleasure of a woman had stopped even longer back.

Kurt turned the water colder and took another breath. He had to keep his wits about him…

She was his friend, and while he would savor the chance to touch her beautiful body, hear her singing in pleasure, he was nearly finished with his training to become a priest; hardly three months left. It was impossible, besides, she was supposed to see him as a support, a bridge to God, a friendly, concerned, but benign presence, helping lift her faith.

.

Kurt awoke the next day, glad that he had denied himself; if he had thought of her while pleasuring himself, he felt he would have greatly regretted it this morning.

He spent his day taking care of his obligations, ignoring the down feeling that he wouldn't get to see Liesel today, and just how greatly he was looking forward to tomorrow when he would see her again.

.

Liesel stretched as she stood with the group, spending a little longer stretching as the other people started walking away.

This time, however, they were discussing something they were planning, a toy or money drive, items for donation to the homeless, running a soup kitchen, they hadn’t decided yet, but they were hanging around in clumps, and Liesel walked down, pausing by a pew, hoping Kurt would still come to talk to her. She brushed out her coat while she waited, wondering why she was standing there.

Kurt greeted a group of women who stopped him.

“What do you think, Father Wagner? Do you think a soup kitchen, or a clothing drive would be better?”

“I’m not sure, ladies, I believe Father Connor would be better at evaluating the need of the community. I don’t think I’ve been here long enough to have a enough of an idea.”

The women tittered and murmured to themselves as he walked away toward Liesel, his eye bothering him more this afternoon than it had this morning. He rubbed at it, but could find little to no relief. “Hallo, Liesel,” he greeted as he rubbed his eye a little harder.

“Hello,” Liesel greeted. She was easily looking him in the eye, something she’d had to work at for the first little while. He smiled, opening his eye with a little more comfort. Liesel blinked and her eyes widened. “Um… Your eye…” Kurt blinked, unsure of what she meant. “Your… contact?” She suggested, not sure if it was the right thing.

“Oh,” Kurt rubbed at his eye a little more, and felt the contact come free onto the  back of his knuckle. He closed his eye to look at her, nervous of the others so close as well. “Ahm… Ja, it has been bothering me all day…”

“Do you need a mirror to put it back in?” She asked.

“Ah, no, my fingers are… dirty…” He told her, looking down at the makeup covered hand holding the contact.

“I- I could help you,” Liesel told him, reaching into her small bag and pulling out a travel size bottle of saline.

“You just carry that around with you?” Kurt asked as she took the contact from his hand and washed it in hers.

“The winter air dries out my contacts,” she told him.

Kurt’s breath caught in his lungs as Liesel stepped closer, putting a hand on his cheek and focusing on his eye.

“You’re going to have to open your eye if I’m going to get this contact back in,” she lightly teased.

Kurt opened his eye and she pulled down his lid. She was very close to him as she raised a brow at noticing the dark purple color inside his eyelid. She spent a second putting the contact in before telling him, “blink. Again.” She pulled her hand away and nodded. “You’ll probably have to look around for a second to get it settled in place.”

Kurt did and it was much more comfortable. He was hesitantly quiet, unsure of her reaction. He’d hopped that she hadn’t quite caught how different his hand was before, maybe it had been too dark, but now, she had  stood almost close enough to touch him, staring at his eye in the light…

There was no way she’d missed it. But… She wasn’t saying anything… “I- I hope you… Won’t hold it against me…” She turned her head a little as her face reflected her confusion. “That… That I’m a mutant…” He murmured so the others wouldn’t hear.

“I hope you won’t hold it against me that I’m not a member of your church,” she returned with a sly smile.

“Never,” he shook his head.

“Ditto,” she replied.

He smiled in relief. She was so kind and thoughtful, more so than quite a few of the patrons of the church, he thought grimly.

He was thinking a little fondly of her, perhaps…

Liesel blinked and stepped back, feeling how her chest had become uncomfortably tight. She looked away, her cheeks heating a little as she bit her lip. Why was she thinking of him this way? Sure, she liked him; he was nice, and they had a lot in common, but she couldn’t think of him as anything more than a friend. He was a member of the clergy.

Kurt was relieved that Liesel didn’t seem to care about him being a mutant. Thinking back, he was fairly certain that she had seen how different his hands were and just hadn’t said anything.

He enjoyed their time together as they spoke, and eventually Liesel had to leave. Was it just his imagination, or was she hesitating to go?

“Well… I guess I’ll see you next week,” she told him, leaving through the doors.

“Next week,” he agreed. He watched her go, until she got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Kurt, it’s getting late. Have you been speaking to her for all this time?” Father Connor asked.

Kurt’s cheeks heated, and he was glad for the makeup that hid it. “Yes, we were a little engrossed in our conversation,” he admitted.

Father Connor chuckled. “You seem to be rather fond of her,” he commented.

“She is… very nice.”

“You seem to have much in common,” Father Connor offered.

“Yes,” Kurt agreed.

“Do you, perhaps, care for her a little more than is normal?”

“No,” Kurt quickly rebutted. “No. She is just a very nice young woman, who seems sad… Lonely…”

“She has seemed less sad lately,” Father Connor commented.

“Good,” Kurt commented back. “No one should be sad at Christmas time.”

Father Connor nodded in agreement.

...    ...    ...    

Liesel wrapped a present, hesitating with a piece of tape. “Can I help you?” She asked the man standing at the counter.

“Is Andrea still here?” He asked.

“Andrea,” Liesel called toward the back.

The young blond hurried to the front room. “Yes? Oh! Richard!” She cried, rushing forward and around the counter. The two wrapped their arms around each other, kissing.

Liesel set the finished package to the side and looked up at them. She wished that someone would kiss her.

It had been a long time since she’d been able to get that far with a man. Scars on her heart and trust made it hard, but she tried not to think about the past and what her stepbrother had done to her, forcefully and painfully. She was feeling more confident than she had in a long time, in no small part due to singing with the choirs, she knew, but still, she wanted someone to kiss her, and maybe if she found someone she could trust-

An image of Kurt floated in her mind’s eye.

Liesel gave a slight jump. No- no, not Kurt, he was a priest; definitely off limits, and probably not interested in her more than trying to be her friend and help her not feel alone. But still, it would be nice if she could find someone to kiss her like Richard was kissing Andrea…

Passionately and lovingly…

Kurt’s image popped up again.

Liesel’s eyes widened as she stepped back from the table and turned to grab the next package needing gift wrapped, but her hands stopped, resting on it.

Why was she thinking of him like this? She shouldn’t- couldn’t! He was a clergyman, and though she wasn’t part of his church, she respected his position and all he’d had to sacrifice and swear to to obtain it.

Still, she couldn’t help but think of him, his smile, the way his eyes looked at her warmly… Her heart was beating a little faster, and she bit her lip. She had a crush on him. She shook her head to free it of the shock. Normally, a crush wouldn’t be anything to worry about, something normal and healthy, but now…

She couldn’t think about Kurt like this. He was a holy man and thinking about him, about kissing him or anything else that wasn’t platonic, was inherently dirty, making her like a wicked, conniving, betrayer of God…

She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Wait, she thought. It’s just a crush, it’s not like I’m actually trying to get him to kiss me. It’ll probably just go away by itself… Yeah… I’ll find someone more appropriate, and this will be in the past…

.

Liesel sat in a pew at the back of the church, hoping she would remain unseen.

She ducked down as the office door at the back of the church opened. Father Connor walked out and pulled his coat on, getting a shovel from the closet across from his office before heading down the hall away from the hall.

The door to the choir director’s office opened as well and Kurt- Father Kurt- Father Wagner walked out. She took a breath and hid deeper in the pew. She shouldn’t be here alone with him…

The door opened and some other choir people came in. She waited until they had passed and followed behind them up to the seating, saying hi as Kurt greeted all of them. She sat in her spot as they waited for everyone to gather.

Soon enough, they had all come and practice was finished.

Kurt waited as the majority of the choir group filed out, looking at Liesel as she made her way down. He looked away quickly as the thought of her in lingerie filled his head. “Liesel,” Kurt greeted when she reached him.

“Father Wagner…” She hesitantly said.

Kurt paused in surprise. “Ah, you may still call me Kurt,” he told her. Her cheeks turned a little pink, and he was at a loss for why.

They sat as the rest of the group discussed their winter charity with Father Connor, and Kurt’s eyes had to focus on staying away from her body, neck, lips, or the way her hair fell around her shoulders.

They talked, taking pleasure in each other’s company, and reminding themselves that they couldn’t be thinking the things they were.

Father Connor turned the lights on above them, and Liesel realized just how dark it had gotten. She looked at her phone for the time and stood quickly. “Wow, I can’t believe how late it is.”

Kurt escorted her out, making sure that she arrived at her car safely before turning and seeing that Father Connor was still there.

“Kurt,” he greeted.

“Father Connor…” Kurt answered unsurely.

“You do seem to have a good time with Liesel.”

“Yes,” Kurt answered, not sure what to say. Father Connor smiled to him.

“She seems to be rather taken with you as well.”

Kurt walked toward him, giving an unsure nod of acknowledgement at his attempt to start a conversation. “She does enjoy talking about things, unfortunately, much of the American music is unfamiliar to me, and she seems to be very fond of it.”

Father Connor nodded. “She could have an entire conversation by quoting songs,” he confessed to Kurt. “It was quite disconcerting when she first came here. She seems to be doing a lot better since talking to you.”

Kurt couldn’t quite stop the smile tugging at his lips.

They made their way to their rooms, Kurt going to wash off the makeup caked over his skin. A shower was always the easiest, as he felt chunks of the stuff fall from him in the rushing water, and he stepped in. He closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face, letting the false skin be washed away.

Liesel looked up at him shyly.

Kurt’s eyes snapped open, trying to get the image out of his head.

If he were honest, he would confess about this, but he was afraid of Father Connor finding out about how he was feeling, knowing that it was an improper thing for him to be thinking about her like this. He would fail and be kicked out of the church for sure…

And yet, Liesel’s body seemed to be there next to him, her hair impervious to the falling water, but her body letting it glisten down her. Down her breasts, over her stomach, along her thighs-

Kurt shook his head. He couldn’t think this, and yet…

He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. He thought of her as a beautiful young woman, a kindhearted friend and good conversational partner during the day, but when she wasn’t there, as soon as the sun had gone down and he’d stepped into the shower to rid himself of the caked on makeup, his body started making its desires known. His body wanted her, craved her and needed her like he’d never thought of wanting any woman, thing, or even food or water, in his life.

He refused, night after night, reminding himself that he had sworn to celibacy. He had to keep strict; there was no telling what would happen to his relationship with Liesel if he couldn’t control himself. He may be unable to stop from confessing to her of his improper thoughts, and she would surely be unable to ever look him in the face again.

His hand had drifted down his abs in his distraction, desperate to rid him of this frustration, but he caught it before it could, slamming it against the wall as he groaned in anger and helplessness.

The frustration would last another day.

...    ...    ...    

Days passed and his frustration grew. It had been two, nearly three, weeks since he’d walked in on her, and every night, the memory of her beautiful skin haunted him. It was driving him mad. His body needed her, needed release, needed attention as a man! He turned it down, over and over, refusing to give in.

.

It was Friday, the last of the practice days that week, and Kurt reflexively smiled at seeing Liesel sitting at the top of the stairs. She was so beautiful.

Kurt dismissed the group and stood in his spot at the front, waiting for Liesel to come closer to him.

Liesel looked up, her cheeks pinkening. “Hi, Kurt… I have to hurry to city choir practice today, so I can’t stay, but…” Kurt felt his heart squeezing. She couldn’t stay and talk to him. It was going to be days before he got to see her again, next Thursday, to be precise, as the choir practice would temporarily be put on hold so that the church could run it’s clothing drive. Liesel turned back to him from her small bag. “I made this for you, um, so you could- it has some music on it-” Kurt took the offered cd, looking at it in confusion. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I don’t even know if you have a cd player, I mean, Father Connor has a computer and it should work on there-”

Kurt smiled and put his hand on hers. “It’s great, thank you.”

Liesel let out her breath in relief. “Well… I’ll see you next week,” she told him, and he nodded.

Kurt watched her walk away. It would be nearly a week until he saw her again. His fingers tightened, holding the cd case against him.

The group had dispersed, and Father Connor and he were the only people left. They cleaned the church, had a drink of cider together, and said good night to adjourn to their studies. Father Connor was reading his scriptures and preparing for his sermon on Sunday, Kurt was sure, and he took his bible from his desk drawer for study after his shower, and when finished, sat at his desk, opening the bible to the page he had left off on.

The next day Kurt helped get the church ready for mass, dusting, shining, sweeping, and vacuuming, making sure there were bibles enough in all the pews. He helped to complete the rest of the chores, too, and by the end of the day was glad of his shower, even though Liesel’s image was waiting there, making his body beg for release.

As Kurt stared at the page in front of him, he realized that he was lost in thought, and his vision slid to the cd Liesel had given him.

He closed his bible and stood, going to the closet where his things were and dug into the box where the things he didn’t use much were and pulled out an old discman, pulling the headphones free and starting to stuff them in his ears as he went back to his desk and sat as he took the cd from the case and swapped it with the one in the discman.

The cd player actually still worked, surprising him, and the music started. It was upbeat, catchy, the lyrics meant something, or were just fun… it was interesting. He’d heard one or two before, but a lot of them were new to him.

There were twenty five songs, and somewhere in the middle, he changed from the chair at his desk, to his bed. He laid back, listening to the music, letting the sound wash over him. His eyes closed, and he drifted off, thoughts of Liesel filling his mind.

.

A shrill alarm sound filled the room, and Kurt’s eyes snapped open. The batteries had died and silence came from the earbuds in his ears. He pulled them out and started his routine for getting ready for mass.

The mass was lovely, a touching sermon about loving one another, the season, and charity. Kurt felt filled with peace and hope, and his mind filled with thoughts of Liesel. After the sermon, he helped take confession, talked to the people who stayed to help clean the church, and discussed the charity with the people who were mostly in charge.

When he got into the shower, Liesel was still there, her body tempting him. He finished the shower as quickly as possible and turned to Corinthians. “But whoever is united with the Lord is one with him in spirit. Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body.” Kurt paused and read it again. He tried to let it sink in deeper before continuing. “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” He had to keep his body and mind pure.

.

Monday he volunteered to do the shopping for them, and made a special stop at the battery section to get some for his discman. When he got back to the church and had put all of the groceries away, he went to his room and pulled the discman from his desk, quickly putting in the batteries and stuffing the earbuds in his ears. He turned the player on and listened to the songs as he laid on the bed. Visions of Liesel went through his head with the music, making him restless.

He turned off the cd and went out to fix dinner for Father Connor and himself, after which they went their separate ways and Kurt climbed into the shower. He saw Liesel there, as usual, and his body begged him for release.

He ignored his body, reciting Corinthians to himself again. His stiffness didn’t leave, so he ignored it as he finished the shower, hoping it would go away. It still didn’t, and he continued ignoring it as he pulled on pajamas and laid in bed, putting the earbuds in his ears.

He tried to focus on the music, but the songs made him think of Liesel, and as he started drifting off, his brain starting to think of things he wanted to do to Liesel, and what he wanted her to do to him…

Kurt tossed and turned, trying to ignore his body’s desires, but had trouble.

Kurt awoke in the morning, feeling as though he’d gotten no sleep. The first thing he did was read Corinthians, the second was to slather his face with the makeup that made him look like a normal human. The third was to go do his daily chores and help Father Connor with visits to the members of the church who weren’t able to make it to the mass regularly, or who were temporarily unable to attend. He helped clean a few places, cook a few meals, gather groceries and supplies for those confined to their homes, all of the things he should be doing as a part of the clergy, and yet, he couldn’t stop Liesel from popping up in his mind randomly.

She teased him with her mostly green hazel eyes, her shining brown hair, her full lips, her round breasts, full, plush looking, and hidden under her baggy shirt. He had to pull his mind from where it shouldn’t be a lot more than was reasonable.

Kurt walked with Father Connor back to the church, surrounded by silent reflection until Father Connor broke it.

“You look troubled, Kurt.”

“Ah, no,” Kurt denied.

Father Connor paused, but came at him from another direction. “You are missing choir practice, aren’t you?”

Kurt hesitated, but answered, “yes.”

“You know, there is just under a month until Christmas.”

Kurt’s head jerked up. It was true, there was just under a month of time that they would use to practice for that day, and then they would return to regular hymns.

And Liesel would leave.

Kurt’s chest felt tight, and he subconsciously touched it.

That night, Kurt laid in bed, listening to the cd Liesel had given him. His body was calling for her, hoisting the fabric of his pants high like a flagpole with his stiffness. He tried to ignore it, lying motionless on his back, focusing on the music, but the inner turmoil was roiling.

It was late. Father Connor was undoubtedly asleep, as he should also be. The whole town was most likely asleep. But Kurt couldn’t sleep. His body demanded things of him he couldn’t do. It demanded to be touched, it demanded that he let it be touched.

I can’t! He thought desperately.

“Then let me…” Liesel’s eyes slowly opened as she looked up at him, clothed in only her bra and panties as she straddled his hips.

Kurt took a deep breath. No, I can’t! He thought in a near panic for losing his control as his heart pounded in his chest.

“I’ll help you, Kurt,” Liesel whispered seductively to him.

Kurt felt his hand moving down on its own. “No,” he murmured, his eyes contorting in concentration.

“Please let me help you, Kurt, I want to help you… I want to help so badly…” Liesel told him as she leaned forward and rubbed up his body.

It had been so long, his member jumped, fairly leaping to painful attention at the touch of his hand rubbing against it through his pajama pants. Liesel’s image slid down his body, rubbing against his rod stiff protrusion. It felt good, and she moved back up. Kurt’s hand was rubbing up and down with her body, pressing a little harder in some spots.

He shouldn’t be doing this, none of it; not touching himself, not letting himself be distracted by sexual thoughts, and definitely not thinking of Liesel while doing it! But her breasts were pressed against him, teasing him just so, just right, he wanted to touch them, lick them, make her moan and cry out, God, he needed to taste them, her, all of her-

“Uggh!” A guttural sound was jerked from Kurt as he suddenly spilled wetness over himself and his pajamas. He looked down at the mess spreading across his hips, a feeling of defeat filling him. He’d finally lost the battle.

He laid back for a few minutes before taking off his headphones and going to his bathroom to clean up. He pulled off his pajamas and boxers, rinsing them in the sink before he stepped into the shower to give a quick wash to his hips and thighs, but as his hands tried to pass over him inoffensively, his cock sprang back up and to life.

He looked down at it in shock. It was an extremely fast recovery, he hadn’t seen anything like it since maybe his teen years. He tried to ignore it, trying to wash around it, but his body was not giving up.

Liesel was standing next to him, looking at him and smiling sweetly.

He closed his eyes in defeat. He couldn’t stop her beautiful face and body from taunting him, even by giving in and giving his body what it wanted. He wrapped his hand around his again stiff cock, his arm relearning how to move, pumping up and down as he felt more and more fuzzy about why he shouldn’t be with Liesel in real life. His body was trying to convince his mind that it was good and right, ok and necessary. His hand tightened a little as it moved, quickening the pace until he fell over the edge, coming again and panting as he leaned against the wall.

He was so dirty, so unclean and impure. The opposite of what he should be to be a priest. He was a failure, something corrupted and depraved. Kurt fell to his knees and looked up into the spray of water, praying to God for forgiveness.

...    ...    ...    

Kurt felt the guilt tearing holes in his soul as he watched Liesel sing. She was so innocent and pure, she needed his compassion and kindness, but he’d turned her into some sort of lust object in his mind, having not been able to stop from pleasuring himself multiple times over the days since he’d first done it.

He’d uncontrollably masturbated, followed by furiously begging God for forgiveness for his transgressions against his body and the beautiful woman haunting his thoughts, shower, and bed.

The crowd pushed to get down to the floor, somehow pushing Liesel to the front and onto the floor first, making her duck to the side and escape down a side hall and out of the side door leading to the courtyard. She gasped a breath and let it out in relief. “Like a stampede of cattle,” she muttered to herself.

Kurt stood at the side, watching as the crowd bundled Liesel away, surprised at their excitement to leave. But, then, there were only a couple of weeks until Christmas, and shopping was most likely on their minds.

“I believe your conversational partner escaped that way,” Father Connor told him with a grin.

Kurt nodded in thanks and headed down the hall he’d pointed to, following it and stepping out onto the sidewalk next to the garden by one side of the parking lot.

There was Liesel, standing near a pile of snow, looking down at what patterns had been dripped in by the icicles on the roof.

Kurt stepped next to her and she looked up at him before gesturing out to the line of cars slowly leaving the parking lot. “‘Tis the season for rush and consumerism,” she commented.

Kurt smiled at how her thoughts seemed to echo his. He wasn’t even imagining them this time. His cheeks heated at the reminder that he often day dreamed about her, and in less than honorable ways.

She looked back to him. “Do you do any Christmas shopping?”

“Ja,” he answered. “I have a few people; Father Connor, and a couple of friends that I used to work with.”

She smiled, and he felt his insides warm. “I wrap a lot of presents, but none of them are from me,” she told him. He lifted a brow, and she admitted, “I do gift wrapping for a department store. When I’m not working at Santa’s village, anyway.”

He smiled. “You must be very good at wrapping presents.”

She shrugged and looked away. “It’s the only thing I’m good at, aside from singing.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned toward the parking lot. “My skills are only going to be useful for another few weeks, though,” she murmured softly.

Pain struck Kurt’s heart again; a few weeks were all he’d have with her. She’d leave after Christmas, he’d finish his training and be moved to his more permanent church, who knew where, and while she’d be able to return next year to sing, he would be unable to leave his post.

A slight panic filled him, clouding his judgment.

He’d never be able to see her again. He’d only have the cd she’d made, and the memories of her smile, eyes, lips, and body. And the agonizing need to touch himself as he thought of her every night.

Kurt’s hands reached out and took hold of her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Liesel looked up to him in surprise, only for her eyes to widen as his lips crashed into hers.

He was gentle, but insistent, his soft kiss asking her lips to open, and letting his tongue slide in when they did. His arms wrapped around her, his hand on her side as his other fingers tangled in her hair to hold her close.

Liesel had been kissed before, but she had always felt so nervous, worried that she’d react badly or straight up freak out because of the past, and she had ended up a mess, not really able to enjoy it much, but this... This was different.

He was soft and warm, insistent, but not demanding, asking, but not forcing, it felt good, he tasted good, and he knew how to kiss, which was surprising for a priest.

Liesel’s eyes sprang wide again in shock. Her hands rested against his chest and shoulder, having moved there on their own, and they didn’t want to leave. She wanted to keep kissing him, but- he was a priest! She was kissing a priest!

She was one of those women, a temptress to turn the holy into the wicked, leading the pure astray and dragging them to the depths of Hell.

Whore-

Devil’s plaything-

Jezebel-

She pulled back, her lips parted, her eyes wide in horror.

Kurt looked down at her, desire visible despite his cloaking contacts.

Liesel pushed back from him slowly, stepping back despite her body crying at the loss of his. She turned and ran down the sidewalk and around the edge of the building to the part of the parking lot where she had left her car.

Kurt stood, watching the direction she’d left, seeing her car pull out and speed off. His heart felt as though it had torn to small pieces.

What had he done?

The answer was very simple. He’d kissed Liesel.

The rest of the very simple answer was that he’d destroyed everything; she would never be able to feel safe or comfortable around him again, she’d never be able to trust him, she’d never be able to look him in the eye, he’d broken his vows again, now, making him a disgrace to the church and humanity, plus mutants… All his fault.

And he couldn’t help but wonder numbly; what had he done?

He'd destroyed everything.

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[sweetpxsin]

Late Night Hours || Han Jisung

>Title: Late Night Hours

>Member: Han Jisung (StRAy KIdS iN yOUr uH

sTRaY kIDS iN yOUr-

Ahem..I know where the door is)

>Genre: Fluff/Angst

>A/N: No warnings..No I’m a bad lyrical person

Sorry for the cringe..Fic inspired by Cameron J’s -

“Don’t Say It”

You sighed tiredly before glancing up at the clock on your desk, the time showing 1:03 AM. In all honesty you should have been sleeping especially since you had to get up early again but you had promised yourself to finish whatever you were doing and one thing led to another and time seemed to pass by like nothing

You were about to go back to what you were doing when your attention was caught by the sound of small pebbles hitting your window. Glancing back once again you look at the clock making sure you aren’t losing your mind before pushing back in your chair curiosity, wondering who would be up at this godly hour.

Pushing the drapes away slightly a smile graces your lips upon seeing a very familiar boy standing near your house still pelting your window with small rocks.

“Yah! (y/n) open the window I can see you!” Rolling your eyes in a playful manner you pull the blinds away fully and unlocked the window before pushing it up. Leaning halfway out you rest your elbow on the ledge, your chin in your hand, smiling amusingly at the older boy.

“Shouldn’t you be at the dorms or did you sneak past papa Chan?” You tease, making the boy smile.

“Chan fell asleep in his chair again.” He paused before continuing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping you look like a mess.” He replied playfully before laughing at your reactions.

“Well I would be sleeping if it wasn’t for a certain someone.”

“You love my late night visits.” You hummed in reply and moved aside, knowing the boy would find a way to climb up your window on his own, and just like you had predicted Jisung was climbing in through it minutes later.

“Will you ever take the door?”

“It’s Jisung’s style.” He shot you his infamous smile while taking a seat next to you on the floor. “But I actually came here to ask you for advice.”

“Thee Han Jisung is asking for my help? Unheard of, tell me more.” Rolling his eyes he took a small notepad from his hoodie and flipped to the unfinished page.

“Can you read this for me… I feel like it doesn’t have a nice flow.” You nodded talking the notepad from his hands while resting your head on his shoulder.

“Hmmm maybe change that part to….Say I ain’t spitting fire but baby you only seen me gettin higher. J.one! Who woulda guessed, look at me now! Who da best? Don’t be distressed cut the bs. Yeah I’m made to the press feelin so blessed. Yah!”

Jisung hummed in agreement and quickly changed the lyrics liking the way it flowed compared to the previous lyrics he had written before.

“For someone who doesn’t write a lot your pretty good at writing lyrics.”

“Only learn from the best.” Smiling for maybe the millionth time Jisung ruffled your hair before taking a glance at the clock himself. “Ah it’s late…”

“You should probably head back to the dorm.” You replied simply, pushing yourself off the floor. Without thinking Jisung grabbed your hand quickly tugging you back down.

“Stay with me for awhile?” He tilted his head innocently, his eyes hopeful. With a sigh you stayed and kept your head on his shoulder. Jisung’s hand found yours intertwining his fingers with yours. It was an innocent action but he loved it more than anything, the way your hands perfectly fit in his and how your finger would gently intertwine with his. But what he loved most about it was feeling the simple ring he had bought for you as he rubbed his thumb against your pointer finger.

“We can’t keep doing.” This you mumbled squeezing Jisung’s hand lightly, disrupting his train of thought.

“We can’t keep doing what?”

“We can’t keep up these late nights Jisung.” You sighed lifting your head off his shoulder to look him in the eyes. “One of these days you're gonna get in trouble for running off, and these small hours of sleep aren’t good for you.”

“Chan knows where I am and plus I could say the same to you.” He replied playfully not quite catching the seriousness of the topic till his eyes met yours.

“This isn’t just about me and my late night visits, is it? You still don’t trust me?” Jisung replied able to see passed your facade now. Your actions told it all, if you really cared you wouldn’t have let him in, you would have shooed him away, if you meant all of it neither of you would have shared secret kisses and late night dates at the practice room, you would have pushed him away.

“D-Don’t say that. That’s not true” His eyes searched yours endlessly as he tried to grasp for the right words.

“(y/n) if you were able to open up the window for me every single night then let me be able to open up your heart.”

“J-Jisung.” His hand found your chin, holding it was his thumb and forefinger before diving in for a kiss. It was desperate, his lips pressed softly against yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. But it was enough to make you go weak as you gave in kissing him back with the same amount of emotions, pulling back when the need for air became unbearable.

“I know he hurt you so much (y/n) but I’m not him. I want you to love me like you never been hurt before.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, while pressing his forehead against yours. “And I like the way we are. With. Each. Of. Our. Own. Im. Per. Fec. Tions.” Jisung mumbled against your lips kissing you in between each syllable. “I’m willing to wait till your ready.”

“Jisung I-I don’t want you to wait I want you to be happy.”

“Then please open your heart for me (y/n). “ You lifted your gaze up toward Jisung letting him kiss you once more.

If he was able to get you to open up your window every night then he was able to get your heart to open even at the late night hours.