#liesl's replies

[sinful-liesel]

i thought She was his fiance. (Because of the flashback where he is with his fiancee, i guess) i had that theory because he said "お前は俺の。。。" you are my whaaaaat D: maybe that could be "お前は俺の婚約者だった" you were my fiance. when she says him "you are broken" he anwers "who do you think who is the fault?" (This is your fault) That was what I thought... I would like to read your opinion

At first I thought that Aki’s fiance died and it was somehow related to Hina. It hadn’t crossed my mind that Hina could have been Aki’s fiance since it seemed she already had her life with Yakumo, but maybe there was an accident that caused her to suffer some sort of memory loss? This would explain why Hina doesn’t seem to know Aki, but I’m not sure why Aki would hold a grudge and want to punish her if that was the case though because that’s not a good way to make her remember.

Either way, I’m sure Samejima is somehow involved in all of this. I’ve also never trusted Yakumo either, I’ve always thought he was behind Hina being falsely accused, maybe he’s also lying to her about being her boyfriend! 😱

I like this fiance theory! It makes more sense than my “siblings” theory lol 

[rizu-animeblog]

is there anywhere i can read an innocent sin besides lezhin?

Hi anon! 

Not that I know of, the most chapters I ever saw uploaded in other websites was 1. You will more than likely have to buy the chapters if you want to read it.

But! Lezhin often holds special events, like coin sales, coinback events, episodes for 1 coin, free episodes or even coin giveways on their Facebook Page, so keep an eye on those (especially the giveaways!!!) ^_^ (although, I don’t think I’ve seen them do giveways in a while)

[valorshwn]

when you realize that faramir grew up not knowing what it was like to have a mother and all the motherly love that comes with it

[tachiisms]

okay so I am genuinely curious! are there any star wars characters (particularly from Watson's books) who you haven't seen rped much if at all and really wish there were blogs for? I know I have a few.

Oh gosh yes! I’m just going to go with from Watson’s books because I love and adore her characters with every fiber of my being. 

First and foremost is Bant Eerin. The sweetest, most kind, most pure, most precious cinnamon roll in the entire galaxy, who I love and would die for but probably isn’t rped because of species but hey someone go iconless for Bant pls. Astri Oddo, who I think has such an incredibly important story arc to be written and portrayed well. Talesan Fry, who has such an open story and someone could do such cool things with. Jenna Zan Arbor, who is honestly my favorite Star Wars villain of all time, which is not a statement I make lightly. Garen Muln, that wonderfully badass pilot with his unparalleled sweet tooth. Malory Lands, who I would secretly love to see roll with this [x] theory I wrote up after The Force Awakens. Dex Jettster, who’s also in AOTC, and who also is probably not rped because of lack of icon availability but Dex is super awesome. I’d also really love to see a Yoda blog or two, because there are never any Yodas that stick around for very long from what I’ve seen. 

Not Watson at all, but I also really like Maz Kanata and think there are endless possibilities for Maz rpers since she’s been around so long.

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[acapelladitty]

Riddlebat K or M. I couldn't decide so you can

K - On the edge of consciousness.

"Did you know I once auditioned for the role of Captain Von Trapp in a amatuer production of The Sound of Music?"

Words slurred by the strength of the painkillers which were coursing through his blood, Edward's intelligent gaze was dulled; the bright green of his eyes almost overtaken by the dilation of his pupils.

Perched by the side of the bed as he kept an eye on his deeply unwell and flu-ridden partner, Bruce bit back the smile which threatened to break free at the drug-induced confession.

"Did you?"

"Yes, back in my early twenties. I had worked with the production company before and their ability to stretch a small budget into something visually wonderful was quite the feat."

"I can imagine." Bruce indulged, his fingers seeking out Edward's wrist to measure his pulse. "So, did you get the part?"

A thin scowl marred Edward's forehead, the boyish features souring immediately and giving a clear indication as to his answer.

"No. They wanted someone with more stage presence. Can you believe that? Me? Lacking stage presence."

"It's a real stretch to consider."

"They offered me Friedrich instead. Friedrich!"

Despite the rising pitch of his voice, Edward's eyes fluttered dangerously and Bruce risked a wide smile as he knew the redhead was too close to the cusp of unconsciousness to register it as he continued.

"Didn't even get the courtesy of Rolf."

"I think you would have made a fantastic Liesl." Bruce teased, hoping to get a small rise out of him but whatever muttered reply Edward made was utter incomprehensible as his eyes welded themselves shut and blissful sleep finally claimed him.

[critrolesideblog]

Caleb Widogast pushed his hair out of his face for the ei--nineteenth time in about as many minutes. Caleb and Essek were reading for pleasure this evening, with the aid of Comprehend Languages: Caleb the collected poems of Erdan Niemi, a famous Drow bard, and Essek, Die Waldhexe und andere Zemnische Volksmärchen. They were seated at opposite ends of one of the sofas in the tower salon, their legs in the middle not quite touching. But some time into Essek's reading, the repeated scrape of sweater against paper edge and rustle of hand in hair became too much for him to ignore.

It was a long time coming really. Essek recalled that it had been Veth who had braided back Caleb's hair for him, when they were in Aeor last. Since there was no Veth to braid it this time around, Caleb had fallen into the habit of roughly tying it back in a ponytail or bun, with varying degrees of success, depending on the amount of effort he put into it, which, lately, was middling, and tonight, none at all. There were times when the mess was charming: when Caleb shuffled into the dining room in the morning, stray locks framing his face; when he ran his hand through his hair in excitement at a new discovery; when some friendly wind caused wayward strands to brush just so against his lips. At the moment, though... Essek took a large sip of his wine and set the glass gently back on the table. "Caleb?"

"Hmm?"

Despite the response, Essek knew better than to continue right away. Caleb's head tilted up toward him slowly, but his eyes lingered on the page a moment longer. When blue finally met lilac, Essek took a  deep breath breath. "May I... braid your hair for you?"

Caleb blinked once, twice, three times, before his eyebrow and lips quirked up with a humor that was a little too insightful. "Well, if it’s bothering you..."

Essek gave a huff of laughter at being caught, before pressing his hands together in front of his lips, arranging his features into a semblance of solemnity. "It is driving me insane." Caleb laughed, as Essek hoped he would.

"I apologize if I have driven you to distraction," he replied, in a voice that sounded not remotely contrite. Essek averted his eyes and took another small sip of wine to provide an alibi for the warmth in his cheeks. "Please, by all means." Caleb pulled free the tie holding his hair in place, and with a small shake of his head, the copper strands fell down around his face and shoulders.

Essek gathered his composure, clearing his throat slightly. "Excellent -- ah, Liesl?" He said quickly, turning to the tortoiseshell cat relaxing in front of the fireplace. She opened one amber eye in response.

Liesl was Essek's right-hand cat. She had been standoffish at first, it was true, but it seemed Essek's years in politics were not wasted in the ruins of Aeor. "Liesl, would you please have Jaakko fetch me some additional hair ties and a comb?" Liesl, without raising her head from her paws, turned her gaze to the cat in question, all black and slender, whose interpretation of cleaning apparently included batting a piece of crumpled paper around the legs of a desk with incredible enthusiasm. At some unseen signal, he turned his attention to Liesl, and after a series of tail twitches, trotted off into  a nearby cat door. She turned her gaze back to Essek. "Thank you, Liesl. That will be all." She chirped at him in response and returned to her nap.

Caleb's eyes were back on his book now, but Essek did not recall anything in Niemi's works amusing enough to justify the grin on Caleb's face, which Essek now had an excuse to give due consideration. He did not think the braids that Verin favored in their youth would suite him particularly well, and they were a bit elaborate for a night in, besides. Perhaps just a variation on the Gwardanian-style braid Veth employed.

Jaakko returned in no time, the items required laid out neatly on a tray held aloft by his long tail, and, with one last small sip of wine, Essek rose from the sofa and moved to stand behind Caleb. He took a deep breath as he picked up the amber comb from the tray. There was no cause, he told himself sternly, for his heart to be racing as it was, which was, of course, a lie. He raised the comb above the copper strands. "I am going to begin now?"

"Ja, danke."

Whether the thanks was for the impending braid or the warning, Essek was not sure, but he drew the edge of the comb gently back along the scalp, carefully delineating a section of hair at the top of Caleb's head. He tied the sides and back out of the way, and if his face warmed at the brush of fingertips on neck, there was no one able to see it. He gathered up the hair closest to Caleb's face and divided it in thirds, before weaving the right third over the center and then left over center. He repeated the process, carefully gathering more strands in on the sides as he went. He was about halfway through with the braid, when Caleb leaned to the left without warning, nearly pulling the locks from his grasp.

"Pysy paikallasi!" Essek hissed, decades-old habit causing the words to spill from his lips in Undercommon, but it did not matter. Comprehend Languages was still in effect. "Mitä sinä teet?"

"I want some wine," Caleb explained, extending his arm to the side to demonstrate that the glass was just out reach.

"Did Veth allow you to move around when she braided your hair?"

"She never complained."

"Then she spoiled you terribly."

"Will you hand me the wine?"

"No," he replied sternly, gathering the strands into one hand, careful not to mix them up, and then leaning over and passing the goblet to its owner.

"You are a riot, Herr Thelyss," Caleb said dryly, but Essek caught a glimpse of a grin as he straightened.

"I am glad you think so. I have been thinking of taking my comedy show on the road when we are done here."

"You should ask Veth if she has any material you can use. Will there be a Mighty Nein discount on tickets?"

"Please, if anything, I should charge you all extra for the honor of heckling me."

Caleb gave a mock gasp. "The Nein? Heckle you? We would never."

"Ha! Tell me another one!"

Caleb's shoulders shook with quiet laughter.

Essek stopped gathering new hair into the top braid, braiding the remaining length of the locks together, and tying them off. He then shifted to the left and began the process again with a section starting at Caleb's left temple. From this vantage point, he could spy the gilded edges and precise black script of the book in Caleb hands (and what hands they were! Capable, as he knew, of both great destruction and healing. And, perhaps, from this vantage, he could also glimpse the stately sweep of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, the strength of his jaw, but who was to say.).

"How are you enjoying the poetry so far?" He asked, affixing his eyes firmly to the task in front of him. He had not known whether Caleb enjoyed poetry, when he gifted it to him. He had doubted, though, that Caleb had much opportunity to avail himself of Kryn literature during his time in Rosohna, and Caleb had seemed delighted, even touched, by the gift. He did not seem to be making quick progress through the text, however.

"Very much so," Caleb replied after taking a sip of wine. "I imagine I am sometimes missing some nuance or cultural context -- Comprehend Languages is a bit of a blunt instrument -- but I am enjoying it even more than I thought I would. You almost made it sound dry in your description, when you gave it to me."

"Ah, no, not dry. Only, all young Drow are forced to read his works as part of our schooling, and it colors our enjoyment of it somewhat."

"I see."

"Do you have a favorite passage so far?"

Caleb did not respond right away. "Yes..." He admitted, at last, and added, "It is from the Courtship of Lael."

Essek nearly lost his grip on the braid as he fumbled the strands mid-crossing. He had forgotten the Courtship was so early in the text. "Oh?" He asked, hoping it came across as polite interest.

"Would you like to hear it?" Caleb's voice had a softer, deeper hue than usual.

"If you like."

There was quiet for a moment.

Caleb did not turn to the page -- he did not need to. He merely cleared his throat lightly, and began:

"My lover's skin is a field of stars. What bliss to wander among the heavens! Let me approach as a pilgrim from the dark. Let me worship on my knees before the holy light. Let no beacon go without a prayer from my lips."

Every opalescent freckle on Essek's skin was now a flame. He swallowed hard. "That--that was, ah ... evocative."

"Ja, I thought so too." Caleb chuckled.

Essek tied off the left braid and moved around to the opposite side. They passed the time in quiet, as Essek's dexterous hands, having found their rhythm, made quick work on the braid on the right. And if he had a new awareness of the freckles that made fiery constellations along the slope of Caleb's neck, he gave no indication.

"You know it is a good thing you are braiding my hair up, with us going deeper into the Genesis Ward tomorrow." Caleb said at last, as Essek gathered the braids and the loose strands left over in the back up into a neat ponytail, tying it off with Caleb's original tie. There was more than a little mischief in his voice. "I should hate for Devexian to see me for the first time in months with my hair a mess."

"You are a riot, Caleb Widogast," Essek drawled.

"I'm glad you think so."

.

.

.

----

Notes: Pysy paikallasi! Mitä sinä teet? -  Stay still! What are you doing?

[wrathofthestag]

How We Met

Summary: Jack and Bitty talk with their tablemates during a benefit dinner about how they met.  Short and sweet.  Also on AO3...

“Did you two date in college?”

“Well, sort of?” Bitty said as he placed his hand on Jack’s.

They were sitting at a fundraiser dinner for childhood strabismus (a cause near and dear to Jack’s heart), and all Jack could think was Thank god Bitty can talk to anyone!

If there was one thing that Jack tried to avoid at all costs, it was small talk. He avoided benefit dinners like the plague because of the impending chit chat. Normally, he would have just cut a check and been on his way, but the foundation convinced Jack to introduce the keynote speaker.

“We were on the same hockey team in college, but didn’t start dating until Jack graduated.”

“You two seem like you were soulmates from the start,” the woman (Lisa? Leslie?) who sat to the right of Bitty said.

Jack snorted, which caused everyone at the table to look at him as Bitty smiled and shook his head.

“It was a bumpy start,” Bitty replied, “but we found our way.”

“One of the first things I said to him was that he should eat more protein,” Jack said as he moved his salad around with his fork.

“And not in a saucy way, either,” Bitty side-whispered, much to the delight of everyone else at the table.

“Oh, Eric! He didn’t,” the woman sitting next to Lisa/Leslie said.

“Imagine this one: 23, handsome as all get out, and Mr. Grump-Galore,” Bitty said as he spread his hands dramatically, palms facing the group, across in front of him.  “He thought little ol' me was too malnourished for his damn team.”

“I was worried you’d get hurt,” Jack interjected with a grin.

“Any-hoo! He got on my nerves too, so it was all good.”

“I did?” Jack asked.

Bitty laughed. “Boy, come on.  You know you did! That wild crinkle you’d get in between your eyes.  You were so uptight and annoying—but it was mutual, so it’s okay.”

Lisa/Leslie said, “Well, the way you two look at each other, and how you seem so comfortable with one another, you never would have guessed.”

“I was thinking the same thing, Liesl,” the woman next to her added.

Liesl! Jack thought.

“Well, soon enough, those sour puss faces gave way to friendship,” Bitty said.  

He took a slow sip of his wine and smiled at Jack.

“I realized he was a good player who just needed some extra help.”

“He helped me with my hockey, and I helped him not be such a jackass.”

Bitty winked at Jack who grinned.

“Some say Eric short-circuited my wiring,” Jack said, mostly to Bitty, more than anyone else.

It earned him a surprised laugh from Bitty that made Jack preen. Bitty placed his hand on Jack’s knee under the table and gave it a quick squeeze.

“And then we took a class together--”

“Women, Food and American Culture."

"--and that was the beginning of the end.”

“The end?” Liesl asked.

“It was over for the two of us,” Bitty said.

“We fell hard,” Jack said, almost surprising himself with his candor.

“But I thought you said you started dating after Jack was done with school?” someone else asked.

“Oh, yeah, that. Right,” Bitty replied as Jack nodded.  

“Technically, I was done with school.”

“This one,” Bitty said as he jerked his thumb toward Jack, “didn’t ask me out until his graduation day.”

“I’m pretty sure I did more than ask you out,” Jack said.

“Again, not in a saucy way,” Bitty said.

Bitty locked eyes with Jack, and suddenly, it was like Bitty was the only person in the room.

“He ran across the quad, in his graduation gown, and showed up to my room, and kissed me. And right then, I knew.  I knew Jack Zimmermann was the one.”

Everyone at the table awww'd as Eric cupped the side of Jack's face and Jack in turn kissed the inside of Eric’s wrist.

“And now, we'd like to bring up someone who has been a great supporter of the American Association for Pediatric Ophthalmology and Strabismus for years to say a few words and introduce our keynote speaker,” the evening's host called out from the stage.  “You may know him as Captain of the Providence Falconers, but at the foundation we just know him as our friend, Jack Zimmermann.”  

The audience applauded. Jack quickly took a sip of water, and pulled his note cards from his jacket pocket.

“Here we go,” he said. He looked at Bitty and bared his teeth. “Do I have any salad on my teeth?”

“No, you're perfect,” Bitty said.  

Jack smiled and made his way toward the stage as Bitty clapped and threw out a hearty, “Woo!”

[hollywoods-golden-age-imagines]

Captain von Trapp with a chubby artist s/o would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I’m so sorry for the wait!)

- Captain von Trapp has seven healthy children; the very idea that this man would be “scared” of a woman's weight is laughable. A woman having a lot of kids in succession is bound to have, at least, a few extra pounds so he’s no stranger to plump women. Stretchmarks, rolls, etc; they’re all a part of being human and over time he’s grown a fondness for such “flaws”. 

- Undoubtedly, the two of you met after yet another governess quit, leaving the position open and the opportunity to step in for the taking. When you showed up at his home, paint and charcoal still smudged across your arms and a pencil tucked behind your ear, he thought it was some kind of joke. 

“What are those splotches on your arm?” He’d ask bluntly and you’d politely reply, explaining that you were an artist. 

- He’d quirk a brow, telling you that you wouldn’t have time for such silly things in his home before launching into his usual new governess introduction speech. The children are introduced, you’re handed your whistle and he leaves the room without so much as a passing glance or excuse. 

- Something tells me that the children would take to you with more ease than usual, your creativity and motherly way of treating them helping to win over their affections. As the children grow fond of you so would the Captain... in his own denial filled way. 

- Even though he likes to act as though he isn’t (before you’re dating that is), he’s really quite interested in your art. It takes him a while to admit to himself that he’s curious but once he does, he tends to peer over your shoulder while you’re drawing; looking away quickly and pretending as though he wasn’t whenever you start to turn, and flipping through your work whenever you happen to leave some out. 

- You really don’t expect him to like you; after all, your only hint towards his type is the Baroness: a trim, Hollywood-worthy bombshell. This means when he does begin to show you affection and try to work his; albeit rusty, charms on you, you don’t quite understand that he’s romantically interested. 

- A part of him thinks that you just aren’t interested or that perhaps his ways of wooing women are outdated. He genuinely contemplates asking Liesl what new age women like but he can’t bring himself to initiate that conversation. 

- After numerous failed attempts, he decides that a grand gesture may finally spark a shred of understanding in you and so... he builds you an entire art studio. 

- The look of amazement and shock on your face when he leads you into the room makes it all worth it, even if you don’t accept his feelings. He lets you look around for a while before finally speaking, telling you that he hopes you’re willing to stay with him and the children for a long time... perhaps as his wife one day. 

- Once you start dating, he openly admires your creations and enjoys watching you paint, draw or sculpt. He loves when you show him what you’ve made or frustratedly ask him whats wrong with a piece that’s giving you trouble.

- Weight has never been a big factor in his attraction to a women, instead he prefers to look at their personality. If the kids adore you; which they do, and you adore them; showing that you have a heart, then he’s content with loving you. 

- The Baron is a retired naval officer, he wishes to live out the rest of his life in comfortable peace so a woman who’s comfortable to the touch is quite welcome. 

- He’s an officer and father of seven, he’s a strong man. If you think that you’re “tOo HeAvY” to be picked up or carried around, he’ll prove you wrong in an instant. He enjoys stripping you of your worries and insecurities. 

- Now this was a time when girdles were common so you most likely showed up to and walked around the house just looking a bit more curvy than the average woman. That’s not to say that he only likes you when you’re wearing a girdle, of course. 

- No, the reason I mention wearing a girdle is because he likes being the only man to see you when you’re the “real” you; the soft, plump woman he fell in love with. The outside world may see your face and the curve of you in a dress but he gets to see your soft skin and unrestrained, beautiful body. 

- He’s not one for subtleties or sugar coating; if someone insults you, he has no problem insulting them back or telling them his opinions of them and their character. 

- He won’t allow you to feel bad about yourself, nor will the children. Anytime he notices you feeling a bit insecure, he’ll do everything he can to cheer you up and show you how much he loves you. It’s especially hard to stay feeling bad about yourself when an adorable child is telling you she/he likes you just the way you are. 

- The children love making art with you. He enjoys sitting back and watching you help them or/and being gifted little creations from each of them. 

- The house and the gardens around it are incredibly beautiful so you’ve got a lot of inspiration whenever you need it. Not to mention; you have eight individuals that you can sketch whenever you please. 

- He’d definitely be happy to take you and the children on a trip to an art museum whenever he has some time off. He’d like to be able to hold your hand while you walk together but he doesn’t exactly mind it when Gretl slips between you, taking one of his and your hands. 

- You occasionally ask him to sing for you while you make your art which he greatly enjoys, partly because of your praise and partly because he gets to watch you make thing up close. 

- Supplies may be a bit expensive but your artwork is priceless. Gifting you paper, pencils and paint is completely worth it to him. 

- No matter what you may think of yourself; to him and the children, you are perfect and always will be. 

[holidaywishes]

we shouldn’t be doing this...

  Summary: You and Morgan get frisky at a New Year’s Eve Party

  Warning: this is just... pure smut

  Author’s Note: Welcome to 2020! I hope everyone did lots of celebrating last night, I know I sure did -- and I’m more or less paying the price for it today. Anyway, I plan on doing nothing today but I, yet again, had a dream about Mo last night in my drunken stupor and needed to write it out. So, this is what you get.

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

  “We should’ve just gone to a bar” you whined to your friends around the large round table at the fancy New Year’s Eve party Morgan had roped you all into.

  “Oh come on (Y/N),” Morgan tried, “let’s just try to have a good time, k?”

  “I feel so out of place here, dude” your date for the night, Kevin, said as he held open his suit jacket, revealing the unraveling seams inside.

  “I’m shocked they let us in” Bethany joked

  “I’m not,” Shauna said, moving closer to Morgan, “we did come with Morgan.” You let out a scoff that you hoped no one noticed but sure enough, Mo caught your gaze

  “I’m sorry, Mo, you’re right,” you smiled at him before sighing, “thank you for bringing us. I’m just not used to the whole ‘fancy party’ thing for New Year’s.” He smiled back at you and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from showing your true feelings for Mo.

  “We’ll have a good time, I promise. We just have to loosen up the guests” Mo said, his eyebrow peaking up at the last words

  “Ahh, what he means is,” Shauna interjected, “we have to be the first ones taking shots...” You laughed as more nodded his head before he and Bethany headed over to the bar; only Bethany noticed you notice Mo as he walked away

  “What is going on?” she mouth from across the table and you just shook your head before Kevin could notice

  “I’m gonna go see if they need any help,” Kevin said, kissing your forehead as he stood up, “I’ll be back.”

  “Thank god! Now we can talk about this” Bethany said

  “There’s nothing to talk about” you tried

  “Uhm yes there is,” she nudged you, “you don’t check out someone’s ass when there’s nothing to talk about”

  “Beth!” you gasped

  “(Y/N).. come on, I’m not stupid. I know you brought Kevin here so you wouldn’t be alone at Midnight. What I didn’t realize is that you’re trying to make Mo jealous”

  “I’m not trying to make him jealous. He’s my friend. I don’t think of him like that. I just brought Kevin tonight because I thought we’d have a good time.” She raised her eyebrows once and dropped it. The thing was, as much as you hated to admit it, she was right. You met Morgan a little over three years ago through his brother and the two of you became fast friends but about a year ago, he practically saved your life when your ex tried to put you in the hospital. After that, he stayed very close to you -- checking on you throughout the day, scheduling lunches with him and the boys after practices, setting aside tickets for games for you and Beth and just generally being your “knight in shining armour;” ultimately making you fall in love with him. But you could never tell him because you were scared of what would happen if you did.

xx

Morgan’s P.O.V.

  You had managed to get most of the guests to take a few shots which meant the dance floor was filling up quite quickly and you sat back to watch the madness unfold. You heard (Y/N)’s laugh float across the table and you noticed Kevin pointing out something to her and you couldn’t help feeling... envious of him. When he left the table, you took the opportunity to steal his seat

  “Is this more of what you were hoping for?” you joked, leaning into (Y/N)’s ear and noticing her smile grow at your question

  “Uhm yes,” she exclaimed, “all I ever want for New Year’s Eve is to watch people embarrass themselves on the dance floor. So this is perfect!”

  “I knew it!” you laughed as did she and she turned her body to face you slightly

  “So.. what are Morgan Rielly’s New Year resolutions?” she asked and all you wanted to say was ‘to kiss you’ but instead you just said

  “Get better at my game.. you know, to win that cup..” she chuckled and shook her head, looking like she wanted to say something but Kevin came in and asked her to dance as Hold Me While You Wait played

  “Sure!” she said and hopped up as he led her to the middle of the dance floor, placing his hands gently on her hips; your head dropping when you saw her smile at him

  “You gonna tell her?” Shauna asked, much to your surprise

  “Tell who what?” you played dumb

  “Tell (Y/N) you love her...” she said matter-of-factly and you raised your eyebrows, preparing to defend yourself, “relax. I won’t tell her if you’re not going to but I can totally see it. Which means I’m probably not the only one.”

  “I thought you were.. flirting with me..” you said awkwardly and she just smiled

  “Oh I was, definitely.” she stated, “If you asked me right now, I’d meet you in the bathroom or kiss you at midnight even though I knew I’m not the one you want.”

  “I don’t get it”

  “Good guys deserve good girls. And you, Morgan Rielly, are one of the best. If we did anything, it wouldn’t go anywhere and you’re too good of a guy for me to play any kind of game with you.”

  “Thanks,” you sighed, “but all that tells me is that I’m a good friend”

  “Au contraire,” she smiled and placed her hand on your shoulder, “it means your boyfriend material.”

  “If good guys deserve good girls, why do good girls always go for bad guys?”

  “(Y/N)’s ex was a bastard, we all know this, but she doesn’t always end up with those types. This was one guy she met and couldn’t see how awful he was because of the flashy apartment and nice things he bought her.”

  “But it’s not just her. Nice girls are always falling for guys who treat them like crap. So, it’s no wonder they say nice guys finish last”

  “Nu-uh” she shook her finger at you, “don’t be that guy. The ‘I’m tired of being in the friend zone’ wah wah poor me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just... it was a genuine question. Why do good girls choose bad guys?”

  “Because we’re fixers. We think we can fix the damaged people but deep down we know we can’t.” She admitted and you gave a small scoff, looking over to where (Y/N) and Kevin were just finishing their dance, “plus, we like a little bit of danger.”

  “Who likes danger?” (Y/N) said as she sat back down, this time beside Shauna and across from you

  “Me and Beth” she said quickly with a wink to you. Shauna seemed to drop it after (Y/N) didn’t ask questions but you couldn’t stop watching her when she wasn’t looking.

  “(Y/N), Wanna dance?” you asked confidently, noticing Shauna and Bethany’s faces fill with shock

  “Let’s do it!” she laughed; jokingly bobbing her head to the music as the two of you got to the centre of the dance floor. You watched the eyes at the table follow the two of you and you tried to escape the audience

  “Come with me” you whispered

  “Wha-- where are we going?” she said before you grabbed her hand and led her out of the ballroom

  “I wanna show you something” you replied

  “Mo, it’s almost midnight”

  “I know. There’s gonna be fireworks and I know the best spot”

  “I love fireworks. Show me! show me!” she joked and you led her over to a bay window

  “This is pretty,” she cooed, jumping up onto the step to look out the window, “ooh, you know what this reminds me of. Sound of Music. You know that scene with Liesl and Rolfe are singing...”

  “Mhmm, I thought you’d say that.” You smiled because you knew she was about to dance, so you crept up behind her so she didn’t fall if she twirled

  “I am sixteen going on seventeen. I know that I’m naive. Fellows I meet, may tell me I’m sweet and willingly I believe...” she twirled just as you’d expected but came face-to-face with you and she was silent for what felt like minutes but could only have been seconds, “I am sixteen going on...” she trailed off and cleared her throat. You took a step up onto the ledge where she was, careful not to leave too much of a gap between you and her.

xx

  You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you were sure your face was beet red but you didn’t want to look away; he was so close and his eyes were so blue and he smelled like pepper and pine trees and it reminded you of your Grandpa who always put too much pepper on all of his food. You finally had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in and turned to look out the window

  “So, where can we see the fireworks?” you stammered, feeling his front press against your back and you were surprised at how forward he was being.

  “Just passed that clearing over there,” he said, pointing to an open space a few feet from the window, his hands were beginning to roam your body now and his lips were brushing across the top of your ear as he continued whispering, “they should be setting them up soon...” You were swept up in the way his hands trailed to the hem of your dress and how his thumbs felt so rough against your skin and how steady his breathing was that you didn’t notice you had let yourself fall back into him. When his lips finally met your neck, you let out a small moan and his hand continue to lift up your dress until his hand moved inside your underwear and his fingers found their way inside of you; your eyes popped open at the sensation

  “Morgan...” you moaned as your hand roamed down his arm, heavy breaths filling the empty hallways with each pulse of his fingers. His ministrations continued as did your pleasure and you were worried that someone might hear you so you snaked your hand up to the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss; jolting his fingers to move quicker inside of you, forcing your mouth to fall open a small scream to escape before Morgan silenced the noise by continuing the kiss, tongues dancing with each other and breathing turning into panting; your eyes finally opened and for the first time you realized how exposed you were

  “Wait wait,” you breathed, “Morgan, we shouldn’t be doing this...”

  “Huh?” he said, fingers still curled inside you, “because of Kevin?”

  “What?” you creased your forehead and looked at him, his fingers stopping until you spoke, “no, I meant we shouldn’t be doing this here. It’s too public.” And just like that, with a smile flashed across his face and your hand still hooked on the back of his neck, he slowly took his fingers out of you and you whined at the loss but he turned you around and walked you to the wall, licking his fingers with you still on them and all you could do was bite your bottom lip.

  “That’s the fun part,” he said, moving his hands across your back and down to cup your ass, “knowing that anyone could catch us?”

  “Mo..” you giggled breathlessly and his lips found their way back onto your collarbone and his hands slipped back to the hem of your dress, “what if there’s kids outside? watching the fireworks? we can’t let them see us...” He stopped long enough to take a look out the window and where the fireworks would be and then back at you

  “I don’t care.” your eyes grew wide at his response, “I want you. Here. Now. You look too damn hot right now for me to wait until we can find a proper spot...” Before you knew it, he’d lifted you up and your legs were wrapped around his waist and you were craving every inch of him; your hands made quick work of his belt and pushed his pants down just far enough for his hardened member to surprise you with its size. You pulled him in for a kiss as he guided himself into you

  “Fu--” you gasped, “oh my god”

  “I’m not hurting you am I?” he asked and you just smiled

  “No,” you said, pecking his lips, “you’re not hurting me.” His pace was steady and controlled and every thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head; the pleasure so intense that you didn’t even noticed that your back was scratching against the brick archway, likely leaving marks. You trailed kisses down his neck as he continued to pump into you, groans leaving his lips and nails digging into your hips where he held you.

  “Fuck..” he breathed and you could tell that he was close, and you were too, he just needed a little push. So, you trailed your fingers up his neck to his ear before sucking on the lobe and whispering to him

  “Fuck me, Morgan.” He obliged and began thrusting harder into you much more aggressively than you thought but you weren’t about to tell him to stop; it felt too good. Soon after, though, he climaxed and coaxed you to yours, leaving the two of you breathless. He let you down from where you were pinned against the wall and he noticed the marks on your back, offering his coat to you and you smiled up at him, “so sweet,” you said as he kissed your forehead.

  “Oh look, it must be midnight...” he pointed outside, “they’re lighting the fireworks.” You watched him watch the fireworks go up and the lights shine across his face before you turned around and pushed yourself up to meet his lips, bringing him in for a deep kiss

  “Happy New Year, Mr. Rielly” you smiled when you pulled away from the kiss

  “Happy New Year, Mrs. (Y/L/N).”

[sinful-liesel]

Do u ship hina with....? Aki/Higa/Yakumo

I ship her with Aki and Higa😉

I love Higa, I really want Higa x Hina, but I know it’s unlikely that they’re going to end up together. If she won’t take him, I will! lol Despite their messed up relationship, I like Aki x Hina. They just seem perfect for each other. I don’t like Yakumo though.

I’ll always pick Aki x Hina x Higa over anything though lol

[rizu-animeblog]

Imagine a Shuangshen Lingtian x Quan Zhi Gao Shou crossover where instead of Xiao Tu and Xiao Hu having their Insectums fused, it's Ye Xiu and Ye Qiu.

OMG yes, I can totally see it! Someone needs to write some fanfiction of this or do some fanart!!! 😱 

[winedad16]

10. Holiday Hours

Masterlist

Previous Part

AN: A few translations...

Weihnachten: Christmas Heiligabend: Christmas Eve Frohe Heiligabend: Merry Christmas Eve Silvester: New Year's Eve

‘Liesl,’

     The only word Klaus had mustered up the courage to write down on the paper. He placed down his pencil and placed his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. He sighed and reached back for the pencil. He crossed out what he had written and replaced it.

‘ Liesl, Mom,’

     The upcoming holidays made Klaus think about his mother and siblings, something he hadn’t willingly done in a while. He knew it was about time to write to his mother, but he didn’t know what to write. How could he start a letter that would possibly reconnect him to his family? He wondered how they were, what they were doing, how his nephews were, or if there were any more Klenzendorfs on the way.

‘I’m writing to you today to firstly apologize for my sudden absence.”

     Klaus thought about the time he had missed with his family. They could have healed together, but instead he locked himself away from them, giving excuses when they offered to have him over.

‘How are Alma, Oskar, and the boys? What about Hugo and Mathilde, did they finalize the payment on that home? Have you kept in contact with them? I’d love to know their addresses to write to them.”

     He felt selfish. Guilty, but selfish. He thought that if he could get away from his family he would heal faster, but after Anita’s words and some reflection, he realized that the bandage he placed over his emotions only hid the cut.

     The brunette sighed, spending the next twenty minutes finishing off the draft of his letter.

‘ Sincerely, With Love, Your Son,

Klaus.’

-

     Weihnachten. Klaus wasn’t fond of the holiday, or any holiday for that matter. He hadn’t since he had turned nineteen, but he had been invited over to Freddy and Edgar’s apartment for Heiligabend festivities. There was no sign of reply from his mother, so far, but he tried to ignore that fact as he prepared himself for his workday and that evening.

-

     Klaus knocked on the door, parcels, and bottle in hand. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Freddy.

“Frohe Heiligabend! Come on in,” Freddy greeted.

“Frohe Heiligabend,” Klaus echoed with a smile as he entered the flat.

“Can I take something? Your hands seem full,” Freddy asked.

“Oh, yes. I brought some whiskey,” Klaus said, handing the bottle to Freddy, shifting the colorful parcels in his hands.

“Oh that’s lovely, thank you. You can put those by the tree,” Freddy said before pointing to the room to his left. “It’s in there.”

      Klaus nodded and stepped into the room. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. The room was lightly decorated with Weihnachten decor. There was a small nativity scene on the windowsill, along with candles and cranberry vines. There were small stuffed reindeer placed on the mantle of the lit fireplace. There was a pine tree in the corner, which was decorated with tinsel, ornaments, and a few bright lights. Klaus placed the parcels down by the tree next to the other few that was beneath it.

“Do you like the decorations?” Freddy asked, stepping into the room.

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Klaus replied, taking off his heavy winter jacket.

“I’m glad someone does, Edgar didn’t want to decorate past a few candles,” Freddy said with a roll of his eyes. “Here, I’ll take your jacket.”

“Speaking of Edgar, is he here?” Klaus asked, handing his jacket over.

“No, he went to go pick up Florence. She lives in the next city over in the more rural parts. She takes care of her parents.”

“That’s very sweet of her,” Klaus noted. “She’s very talented, too. Does she do anything with it?”

“Unfortunately she doesn’t. You know how people are with Romas,” Freddy replied with a frown. “There’s a lovely piece she did in the kitchen, I’ll show you.”

     The two men traveled back to the hall and into the kitchen, Freddy hanging up Klaus’ jacket on their way in.

“This one she painted,” Freddy said, pointing to a spot over the counter.

     Klaus placed a hand down on the counter and leaned in to look at it. It was a painting of a hand gently holding a few blue flowers.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Klaus said before turning his head to face the blond. “Forget-me-nots?”

     “They are. She painted that over the spring. It was her engagement gift to Edgar-”

     Freddy was cut off by a ringing noise. His head snapped over to the oven, a smile finding its way on his face. He walked over to the oven and grabbed the small plastic timer next to it and switched it off. Grabbing the oven mitts, he opened the oven and pulled out a loaf of sorts.

“What did you make?” Klaus asked as he leaned onto the counter.

“Edgar made it, actually. It’s stollen,” Freddy replied as he closed the oven and took off the mitts. “He thought it would be nice to have something to snack on tonight.”

“Really? I haven’t had that in quite some time, it smells great,” Klaus replied. “Can’t wait to have some.”

     Freddy smiled and placed his hands on his hips, looking to be in thought as he turned to Klaus.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Freddy asked. “We could start that bottle of whiskey.”

“Yes, please,” Klaus replied. “If you’d like to open it.���

“Great, can you grab it? I put it in the cabinet to your right,” Freddy asked as he pointed to where he was talking.

“Of course.”

     Klaus grabbed the bottles as Freddy grabbed two glasses. Klaus returned to where Freddy was at the counter and placed the bottle down.

“Hey,” Klaus suddenly said.

“Mhm?” Freddy acknowledged as he uncorked the bottle.

     Klaus placed a quick kiss on Freddy’s cheek, prompting the blond to look to him.

“I love you,” Klaus said with a small smile.

     Freddy broke into a smile.

“I love you too.”

     The two shared a kiss and Freddy went back to preparing their drinks, pouring ice into the cups.

“I love hearing you say that,” Klaus said with an attentive smile.

“I love saying it to you,” Freddy replied as he rolled up his sleeves.

     Taking notice of this, Klaus furrowed his brows.

“Is it warm in here?”

“Is it? It’s probably because of the oven.” Freddy said as he poured the alcohol.

“No, you just rolled up your sleeves,” Klaus replied.

“Oh, I didn’t want to spill anything on my sweater,” Freddy said as he handed a glass to Klaus. “I just bought it, isn't it cute? I think it suits me.”

“It does,” Klaus agreed, looking at the orange-tan checked sweater as he took a sip of whiskey. “Though, I have to say I like you in a lot less.”

      A light shade of pink colored Freddy’s face as he playfully slapped Klaus’ arm. Klaus chuckled and the two kissed, but quickly pulled away as they heard the rattle of the door opening. In a light jog, Freddy made his way into the hall, Klaus following with his drink in hand.

“Hi, Florence,” Freddy greeted, kissing her cheek.

“Hi Freddy,” She said with a smile.

     As Klaus turned the corner, he was met with the sight of Florence wrapped in a heavy winter jacket, scarves, a hat, and sunglasses; despite it being the late hours of the evening. The petite woman began working out of her layers with the help of Edgar.

“Good evening, Florence,” Klaus greeted with a smile.

“My goodness! Hello, Klaus. It’s lovely to see you again. You’ve caught me at a rather tangled time,” Florence greeted.

     Florence settled in and joined Edgar in the kitchen while Klaus and Freddy sat in the sitting room.

“That was quite the attire she had on,” Klaus said in a hushed tone.

     Freddy hummed in agreement.

“Unfortunately she has to do that around here. We’ve had some problems with locals and their comments. She doesn’t come around much because of it,” Freddy said in a hushed tone. “I’m not too sure what their plan is for when they’re married.”

“That’s a shame, she’s a sweet girl, doesn’t deserve it.”

     The two men then became aware of the presence of Edgar and Florence as they entered the room, drinks, and plates in hand. The four adults sat by the fire in the sitting room, chatting, drinking, and eating. They had the stollen, Edgar making sure everyone tried it, and Klaus asking for the recipe. They exchanged their gifts, laughing and thanking one another. Any negative thoughts about the lack of response from his mother out of mind.

-

     Weihnachten came and passed, and Silvester came with no sign of a response from Klaus’ mother. He had checked that morning and just before he headed out to meet Freddy and a few friends to go clubbing.

     The streets, bars, and clubs filled that night, the occasional firework lighting the sky behind the city’s skyline. The streets welcomed the feet of those who drunkenly wandered out of bars and clubs, the street lights guiding them home. Two of which were Freddy and Klaus, Freddy latching onto Klaus’ arm as the older male tried to steer them both clear of any trouble. Once in the apartment building, Freddy’s hand traveled to Klaus’.

“Freddy, come on,” Klaus whispered as he referred to their hands.

“I’m going to get lost,” Freddy replied, only tightening his grip.

     Klaus sighed and began clumsily making his way up the stairs.

“Shshsh,” Klaus loudly shushed Freddy’s giggles with a smile as he scooped up the mail from the bin on the wall and fumbled to use his keys to unlock his apartment.

      Without having the chance to even enter the apartment after successfully opening it, Freddy sloppily attempted to kiss Klaus, just missing his face. The two stumbled into the apartment, Klaus promptly closing and locking the door.

“You’re asking for a death wish for the both of us doing that,” Klaus breathed out, leaning against the door.

“I’m sorry,” Freddy replied with a frown. “I can make it up to you.”

     The blond kissed Klaus, his hands traveling down to the buckle of the brunette’s belt, lightly tugging on it.

“No, no,” Klaus said, pulling away from the kiss. “Not tonight, okay? You need to sober up a bit or you’re going to really feel it tomorrow.”

     Freddy frowned.

“Okay.”

“Now, how about,” Klaus began, dropping his keys and mail onto the kitchen table. “Let's get these jackets off.”

     Klaus got out of his heavy winter coat and helped Freddy out of his, watching the blond stumble.

“Come on, let’s sit you down,” Klaus said, guiding him down over to the couch. “I’ll get you some water.”

     Freddy sprawled out onto the couch, looking out the window into the streets and sky, quietly giggling to himself, over what Klaus could only think to be drunken thoughts.

     The brunette poured a glass of cold water and headed back to the blond.

“Come on, sit up,” Klaus said as he handed the glass to Freddy.

     Freddy swiveled his legs off the couch, placing his feet on the floor.

“Thank you,” He said as he took the glass, gazing into it.

“Do you want some music?” Klaus asked.

     Freddy eagerly nodded his head, making Klaus smile. Klaus placed a quick kiss on the blond’s forehead and set off to put a record in the player. Freddy sipped the water as he attentively watched as the brunette slipped a record out of its sleeve and onto the turntable.

    Klaus dropped the needle onto the record, listening to the hum of the record as he turned the knob of the volume down. He began to feel the number of drinks he had consumed earlier that night, slowly swaying to the soft jazz as he made his way back to the couch.

     Freddy smiled at Klaus when the brunette sat down. Klaus rested his arm on the back of the couch, propping his head up with his hand, looking at the man in front of him.

“Hi, handsome,” Klaus whispered with a small smile.

     Freddy let out a small breathy laugh.

“Hello.”

     The two softly kissed and leaned their foreheads against the other’s.

“Is it tomorrow yet?” Freddy asked.

“What?” Klaus asked with a laugh, not exactly sure what Freddy was saying.

“Is...” Freddy paused, scrunching his nose in thought. “Is it next year?”

“I don’t think so,” Klaus whispered back.

     Klaus lifted his head as he squinted at his wristwatch, his vision blurred.

“In twenty-three minutes,” Klaus continued. “Then it will be.”

“Okay,” Freddy replied, curling up to Klaus.

     The two peacefully sat there in one another’s arms, listening to the quiet music flowing from the speaker of the record player. Chiming erupted from the clock mounted on the wall, signaling the beginning of the new year, and welcoming the muffled shouts and cheering of those outside.

“Hey Freddy,” Klaus whispered, only to not receive a response from the blond.

“Friedrich?” Klaus whispered as he attempted to turn his head to see the blond.

     Freddy hummed in response, waking only a little.

“It’s 1932 now,” Klaus continued.

“Hooray,” Freddy quietly cheered as he wriggled closer to the brunette.

     Klaus delicately kissed the top of Freddy’s head, taking in the smell of the product in the blond’s hair.

“I think we should go to bed,” Klaus said in a hushed tone as he shifted his weight around just enough to get Freddy to sit up.

“Come on,” Klaus whispered as he slowly stood up, rubbing Freddy’s shoulder.

     The two men wandered into the bedroom, Klaus not bothering to shut off the record player. Freddy laid on the bed with a pleased sigh.

“Hey, come on, shoes off,” Klaus said as he opened up a draw, grabbing a change of pyjamas Freddy had brought over.

    Freddy groaned, lazily kicking his shoes off as Klaus placed the clothes beside him.

     The two men changed into pyjamas and made their way under the covers. As they laid in bed, Freddy tucked his head into the crook of Klaus’ neck. Klaus kissed Freddy’s forehead as the blond drifted back to sleep.

-

     Klaus woke to the busy sounds of the world outside the apartment building and the warmth of the blond in his arms. Klaus smiled, not daring to move as he listened to Freddy’s breathing as the minutes ticked by. Feeling quite groggy, Klaus found an excuse for himself to continue to lie there. That moment of tranquility only lasted a short time as Klaus counted the chimes of the clock in the room over.

Nine chimes, ten chimes, eleven chimes…

     Klaus sighed, knowing he should get up to keep some semblance of a schedule. He slowly detangled his limbs from Freddy, not wanting to wake him. As he sat up, he quickly realized his grogginess was in fact not a side effect of sleeping well, but drinking too much. He quietly slipped out of the bed, rubbing his eyes and heading into the kitchen to make tea, promptly shutting off the lights of the kitchen. As the kettle boiled, he grabbed eggs and a pan to make omelets for when Freddy woke up.

     He sighed and leaned onto the counter, his muscles aching. He gazed around the room, a couple of envelopes piled on the kitchen table. His train of thought was cut off by the whistling of the kettle. After the kettle had some time to cool, Klaus poured himself a cup and sat down at the kitchen table, beginning to sift through the papers.

-

     The sharp whistling noise of the kettle woke Freddy. His eyes attempted to adjust to the sudden light, but to no avail. His back cracked as he slowly sat up, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings.

This was Klaus’ room.

     Freddy looked to his left to see empty sheets. Freddy frowned, not quite wanting to get out of bed, but wanting a cuddle.

-

     Klaus heard the soft padding of footsteps behind him, causing the brunette to turn around in his seat. He smiled seeing Freddy clad in his unbuttoned flannel pajamas.

“Good morning,” Klaus greeted.

“Hey,” Freddy said with a smile.

“Come sit down,” Klaus said as he turned around, pushing the chair out across from him with his foot.

     Ignoring the invitation, Freddy loosely wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, kissing his cheek.

“How’re you feeling?” Freddy asked.

“A bit sore, my eyes hurt a bit,” Klaus replied. “What about you?”

“About the same,” Freddy replied.

“I’m making omelets in a bit, maybe that would make you feel better,” Klaus said as he thumbed through the envelopes.

     Freddy hummed as he placed his hands on the base of Klaus’ neck, slowly massaging the two spots.

“Come back to bed, that would make me feel better.”

     Klaus chuckled, about to respond until he tensed. Freddy frowned, pausing his movements.

“What’s wrong?”

     Klaus didn’t reply but only showed the envelope to Freddy.

His mother had replied.

Next Part

[tachiisms]

@starsscarred replied to your post: here’s your random reminder that if (which is a...

-cue music- LIESL’S CONSPIRACY CAVERN, RIGHT NOW!

HAH thanks alex, I knew that if I put conspiracy cavern, either you, haley, or din would reply with this, and I was not disappointed xD

[bellassan]

physicsandfandoms replied to your post: physicsandfandoms replied to your post: ...

<3 It has been a long time, I was really excited to see you return! With two other potential Roans, I’ll think about who else I might want to do. Bail Organa could be fun, but that is a very limited time frame.

I’m so happy you were still here to support my brand of nonsense when I got back, too! ♥

honestly, bail is fantastic, and I’d love to see what anyone could do with him. it wouldn’t be all that limited - he’s a senator during the whole prequels run, isn’t he? I think he has some appearances in the clone wars tv show, I think you could find some good traction with him if you wanted to develop him. 

my friend liesl @tachiisms (who you no doubt have seen around because obviously) actually writes breha on occasion, so you’d have that going for you too, and liesl would absolutely be up for talking or plotting with you if you want! her breha is exclusively legends based. and I’m sure all the leias out there would love their father. :)

no pressure at all obviously, take your time and pick whoever you want! but I had to jump on this since I know liesl’s breha would love her husband. ;) 

[withhiraeth]

viaminvenia replied to your post: ❝ Fashion, my love, just like the universe, owes...

(susan: it’s fashion darling. lucy: okay but WHY is it fashionable.)

wow I can’t believe you just channeled the ghost of c. s. lewis, liesl