Cute_Kitten

It was the strangest pub she’d ever seen. The interior looked like it was ripped out f a medieval fairytale. Heavy stone and thick wooden beams made up the walls. Metal chandeliers were draped in white, green, and gold streamers. Tables and chairs were rustic and appeared hand carved while the floor was scuffed flagstone, chipped in a few places. A huge area around the fireplace had been cleared for an improvised stage and dance floor, tables and chairs shoved aside, leaving no clear walkways. Musicians played lively jigs on traditional Irish instruments- the bodhran drum, fiddles, flutes, tin whistles, and Uilleann pipes. People got up to dance while others sat back down, tired from jigging and reeling. Now this was what she called a proper St. Patrick’s Day party. Along with the Celtic music, people dressed in green shouted, laughed, talked, and sang as they drank mugs of foamy green beer. Irish pride everywhere. The fireplace stretched the length of one wall. The mantle was hand carved with the snarling heads of mythical beasts from around the world. Flames licked at bricks of dark, packed dirt, filling the air with heat and the scent of scorched earth. A peat fire; Bridget knew the Irish called peat turf. The warmth from the fire was welcome after the March cold outside. Music drowned the fire’s crackling and snapping. She’d always wanted to smell an authentic Irish peat fire; ones just like her ancestors used to burn. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and coughed. “It’s a good fire, isn’t it?” Deirdre’s heavy brogue spoke right in her ear. Startled, Bridget jerked and opened her eyes to find Deirdre’s face so close to hers their cheeks nearly touched. “Ah. Um. Y-yeah.” Bridget stepped back, putting space between them. She glanced around; Moira was the only familiar face. The blonde deftly wove between the crowded tables to snag a recently vacated table by the fireplace. As the distance between her and Moira grew, unease fluttered in her stomach. She looked over her shoulder at the door, but it was gone. A solid wall and grimey window were in its place. Outside the window, snow fell on tree limbs and a fence posts. No concrete; no buildings; just countryside. “Where did the door go? The city?” Bridget didn’t remember turning around, but she must have. The door had been behind her, but now it was another wall. Her brain struggled to come up with a logical explanation for the city and country switch. Deirdre wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Have you been drinking? Of course the door’s still over there.” Her hand waved vaguely at a far wall across the room. Maybe Bridget really had gotten turned around somehow without noticing it? “Doors don’t just vanish, you silly goose. Now, let’s go sit down with Moira and get warmed up.” She took a step forward, her arm muscles stiffening and dagging Bridget along. The feeling of unease grew. Bridget dug her heels in and ducked under Deirdre’s arm. “I think...I should go. Moira doesn’t want me here, and I don’t know you.” Bridget looked around for the door again. “You’re going to give up that easy? At the parade, I saw how you looked at Moira. Like a moonstruck calf. You’re that girl from her class. You worked on a group project together. She’s mentioned you. You should know, she’s very shy; social anxiety or something. You like her but you won’t even try to get to know her? Fight for her? Coward.” “E-excuse me?” Bridget stood stock-still in shock and growing anger at being spoken to like that by a stranger who hadn’t even introduced herself. “You heard me. You’re a pathetic coward. I’m Moira’s friend, Deirdre. But you already overheard that.” Bridget refused to be ashamed of eavesdropping. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and looked at Deirdre with a carefully blank face. “I was trying to do Moira a solid and hook you two up. But if you’re going to be like that…” “Moira’s never shown any signs she’s interested in me.” Bridget’s face turned red. “Of course not. She doesn’t communicate well. She’s socially retarded. Hell, she dumps in a diaper.” Deirdre rolled her eyes. “I thought you’d have figured that out by now. Moira told me you were smart. I guess she was wrong about that. But it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re leaving. So, go.” Deirdre waved a hand at her dismissively. “W-what?” The word diaper was a bucket of cold water that doused her annoyed anger. “My friend deserves better than a stupid coward.” Deirdre ignored Bridget’s verbal stumble. She rocked back on her heels and crossed her arms in a casual pose, her violin case swinging from one hand. Her gaze levelled a cool challenge to Bridget.

I only have a few stuffed animals from when I was little- my old, ragged Starlight horse, and Simba and Nala. My other plushies are ones I've collected as a grown up- most from Build A Bear, which I never got the opportunity to visit until my twenty's. The last plushies I bought were a few years ago at the zoo- two pink and purple tiger cubs.

Thank for commenting. Glad you enjoyed the story. This was written for a contest, so it had a length restriction. :3

Awesome! I've commissioned a few pieces, none of it abdl though. It's a nice treat for yourself. =D

It's a fanart of Yuri Plisetsky from Yuri On Ice. :3 I got it off of a google search and pinterest.

Thanks for commenting. I'm glad you enjoyed the story. :3 I left a few story threads open for the possibility of more stories with these characters- Rosie getting in trouble for drinking again could easily lend itself to a whole lot of fun, Luc finding out about Luna's true identity, and some of the other werewolves who have unsettled beef with Prudence come to town. I'd love to write more with these characters, they were a lot of fun. Plus I'd like to see Luc grow in confidence. Maybe have Rosie learn to be a little nicer (and Prudence, too LOL). Or for Prudence, at least learn to obey the law a little XD.

Ichiro’s apartment was a mix of old and new. The building dated back to the 1800s. The owners had gutted it out and refurbished it with the latest modern amenities only the affluent could afford. Old timey charm coupled with the creature comforts of technology. He’d turned a small niche into a makeshift kamidana, a small Shinto memorial shrine to his deceased mother. Flames crackled in the large Victorian fireplace, warming the large living room. The scent of burning wood mingled with the perfume of roses. Rose petals scattered the floor. Yuki lay on a padded mint green changing mat. Underneath that lay an onikuma skin rug. Ichiro had hunted the demon bear after the enormous beast had eaten several villagers in Ikai. Yuki was naked except for his diaper. The vinyl of the changing mat was cold on his back while the soft, thick fur of the dead beast rubbed against his skin like silk. His pink pacifier moved rapidly as he sucked. The large rubber nipple filled his mouth, almost too big for him. Drool dribbled down his chin as he tried to calm down. Tears blurred his eyes; he angrily wiped them away, pressing his palms against his eyelids. He kicked the air with his good leg. Without his brace, his weak leg muscles just twitched. His soaked diaper barely crinkled. The mess inside the saturated padding shifted. He was too used to messy diapers to notice. He took special pills that nullified fecal odor; it worked well on humans. His dirty diapers were an invisible scent to them. For yokai and other supernaturals, the pills only toned down the stench; there was no hiding the smell. A messy diaper was the least of his problems. He’d ruined their romantic Valentine’s dinner. Ichiro had taken him to a fancy, upscale restaurant. Fine dining with a live orchestra special for Valentine’s Day. Cloth napkins and finger bowls. Thoughts of what came after dinner- him and Ichiro alone in Ichiro’s apartment, having sex- nibbled at his brain no matter how much he tried to ignore them. Those thoughts opened the door to painful memories. Yuki had grown more nervous and distracted as dinner progressed. Ichiro reassured him, soothed him. Fed him. Offered to call the date off. Yuki repeatedly refused. At the end of the meal, he’d cracked under the pressure he put on himself. He’d cried so hard Ichiro had to pick him up and carry him like a toddler out of the restaurant. His large hand had been on Yuki’s heavily padded bottom, Yuki’s slim body shaking with hard sobs, when Yuki messed. Ichiro hadn’t moved his hand; he’d just rubbed Yuki’s diapered bottom to help soothe him. He’d kissed the top of Yuki’s head. Yuki had cried most of the way to Ichiro’s apartment, but he’d managed to reduce his sobs to hiccups and sniffles by the time they pulled into the parking lot. In the car, his diaper had leaked after he’d peed. Ichiro had told him not to worry and kissed his tear-wet cheeks. As he’d carried Yuki inside, the diaper leaked onto Ichiro’s own clothes. He’d laid Yuki on the changing mat in front of the already-burning fire and undressed him, ignoring the romantic scene. He’d given Yuki his pacifier and said he’d be right back. Yuki’s heart twisted as he waited for Ichiro. He was such a screw up. A royal fuck up. He was achieving the opposite of his goals, mired in the past, drowning as he struggled to move forward. Fresh tears trickled down his cheeks. “Here, baby. Let’s get you out of that yucky diapee.” Ichiro’s deep voice cooed, love and safety in that gentle tone. He sat a shallow, square bucket filled with soapy water and a washcloth by the onikuma skin rug. The fuzzy purple diaper bag lay by Yuki’s feet, along with a folded purple rectangle, a tube of diaper cream, baby powder, and box of baby wipes. He reached for the tabs on Yuki’s saturated, fully loaded diaper. “Ichiwo?” The pacifier slurred Yuki’s words into a toddler’s lisp. He held his dainty hands out like a baby asking for a hug. “Yeah, baby?” Ichiro reached out to help Yuki sit up. Yuki spat out his pacifier, wrapped his arms around Ichiro’s neck, and smashed his wet lips to Ichiro’s.

Prudence sat back on her haunches and scratched an ear. Watching Rosie take the blame for something Prudence herself had done amused her to no end. Oh, she was going to have so much fun with this stupid girl…. Pru looked forward to living with her. Overall, she was very pleased with herself. She had played the sweet pooch and Lucas had welcomed her with open arms. He let his walls down, let her walk right into his heart. She hadn’t been able to do that in human form. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to get close to him. She’d done the opposite; hurt him. Now, she made it better. She righted her wrong. She yawned, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She paid a horrible price for her folly- putting up with all those rotten, screaming snot-goblins grabbing her fur during Trick or Treating. All night, all she’d wanted to do was bite the obnoxious brats. She had pretended to enjoy it, further adding to her agony. Now, she was exhausted. She didn’t regret it; she did it to make Luc happy, to assuage the guilt plaguing her. While the drunk idiot cried and the nagging lady closed up the booth and got everything ready to go, Pru plopped her head on Luc’s lap. He scratched her ears. She was looking forward to a warm, soft bed; even if she had to share it with diaper boy. She refused to sleep on the floor. A few licks and cuddles, and she knew he’d share his bed with her. His fingers scratched just the right spot behind her ear and she melted. “Good girl, Luna.” Luna, short for Lunatic. She liked it. Maybe being a service dog wouldn’t be so bad this time around. Lucas obviously needed her. She had no choice; she had to stick around. The boy couldn’t even get himself a diaper change. She wasn’t going to tolerate him stewing in a dirty diaper like tonight. She was surprised he hadn’t leaked. She’d seen the faces he’d been making all night; he wanted out of his yucky diaper. Her sensitive canine nose had smelled the dirty diaper before she even approached him. When they got to her new home, she was going to find Luc’s diapers, pull a clean one out and make the lady change him. If he wouldn’t ask for a clean diaper, she’d have to get one for him. Yes, it looked like she was stuck with him for quite some time. He clearly couldn’t take care of himself. He was just a big, helpless, adorable baby in need of a four legged, furry nanny. For the first time in a long, long time, Prudence looked forward to the future. She had a feeling it would be a very long time before another bad moon rose in her life. ~THE END~

Gertrude almost peed herself. “Ah! I’ll get it. You go on. I wanna surprise you with the cookies.” She reached for the coat, but Josef already picked it up. In the dark, far from the lantern, he didn’t notice the coat bottom was wet. She stepped in front of the pantry door. Soon as he hung the coat up, she grabbed his arm and tugged. “Come on. One of the cats or dogs probably knocked it over. They’re all in for the night cuz it’s cold.” “Someone left the pantry open.” He easily shouldered her aside with his much bigger body. A metal pot clanged into another one, followed by a scuttling noise. They both froze and looked at each other. Gertrude forced a smile. “Milky! I bet it’s Milky. Dumb cat, into the pantry again. You know how that cat is. Always getting into things. Knocking stuff over. Maybe she saw a mouse.” “The pantry should’ve been shut.” “I left it open when I got the wash basin out. It’s late. I’m tired. Sue me.” Gertrude ducked under his arm, shut the pantry door, and leaned back against it. “Now, are we going to d wine and cookies or not?” “Aren’t you going to let the cat out?” “Um. Yes. After you get moving. You’re holding up production.” Josef smiled in amusement. He grabbed the knob and pulled the door hard, knocking Gertrude out of the way. She stumbled, heart in her throat as he stuck his head into the pantry. He was sure to find Magda. Would he take her outside and shoot her? What had she been thinking, dragging her into the house like that? Stupid, careless- “I don’t see the cat. There’s nothing in here.” “Krampus! There he goes! It’s Krampus, not Milky. Hard to see a black cat in the dark!” Gertrude blurted though nothing ran out of the closet. “I suppose so.” Josef stepped back. He yawned, then looked in the dark pantry once more, where the lantern’s flickering light didn’t reach. Where Magda hid. Gertrude held her breath, fear squeezing her heart. Josef shrugged his big shoulders and shut the pantry door. “Alright, I’m heading up.” He took a swig from the wine bottle. “I’m getting the cookies. I’ll be up in a minute.” Gertrude waited until Josefl left and she heard his big feet on the squeaky steps. She grabbed the lantern and tiptoed to the pantry. Even with the lantern in hand, she didn’t see Magda right away. “He’s back in bed. The coast is clear.” She whispered. Even then, Magda didn’t respond right away. Gertrude thought she might be paralyzed with fear. “It’s safe. I promise. But he won’t wait for long- he thinks I’m coming up soon.” Magda’s head popped up from the same hiding place as before. “I thought he was going to find me. I ducked down some more when I heard him by the door. The bag hit a stack of pots.” She whispered as she slipped past Gertrude and tiptoed to the door. Gertrude followed. She tried to hand Magda the lantern, but Magda shook her head. “People will see it. Too dangerous.” She tightened the scarf around her neck and slid the old mittens on. Gertrude opened the big door for her. Magda hesitated at the screen door, about to step out into the Christmas cold. She whirled around and quickly hugged Gertrude. Just like she used to as a child. For a moment, Gertrude was swept back to childhood. They were kids again- Magda sneaking out of the house after playing with her and Heidi. Except these adult games had deadly consequences. After a moment, Gertrude hugged her back. Magda pulled away. “The world’s falling apart, but we’ll always be friends.” Gertrude repeated a long forgotten childhood promise. Magda smiled faintly, then headed out into the winter night. Gertrude didn’t know if Magda believed her or not. She stood at the door and watched Magda go. Magda huddled into the scarf and coat against the December wind. Snow still fell; soon it would cover her tracks. Gertrude didn’t feel like she was losing a friend or being left behind. Her heart filled with a warm glow she hadn’t felt in a long time. She’d lost Heidi, but she’d saved Magda. Lost her sister but saved a friend. She was sure Heidi was smiling down from heaven. Hope even in the darkest of times...maybe that was the gift the Christ child brought into the world. She didn’t know where Magda was headed, though she had a guess. She thought of Magda’s uncle who’d fled to America. Magda had lost everything in Germany. Part of her kin lived on in America. Surely Magda was headed there. Gertrude didn’t know if she’d make it or not. She didn’t know what the future would bring, for either of them. They’d each face their futures on their own, but they’d have each other in their hearts. Gertrude had her sister in her heart, as well. That love, that strength, would get them through whatever daybreak brought. ~The End~

They're adorable! I love the print- it's perfect for chilling around the house, watching my old favorite cartoon shows and indulging in childhood nostalgia. I'll probably wait for reviews though before I order. I'm still looking forward to trying the ABU peekaboo's.

Soon they were at Richard’s grandma’s house. A bunch of motorcycles were parked in the front yard. Genie parked the car. Richard still hadn’t figured out what he’d tell his family. “Hey, what’s with all the motorcycles? Ooh, I like the pink one!” Genie pointed like an excited kid. Richard watched her hooterlicious hooters bounce. “My grandma runs a motorcycle gang. Heaven’s Demons. The pink one is hers.” He sat in the car, forehead on the steering wheel. “Ugh, what am I going to say?” He glanced over at Genie as she got out the car. “Hey, that’s it! Genie, I have a wish! I wish for a solution to explain you to my family!” “That’s the spirit! You’re catching on pretty quick.” Genie grinned, snapped her fingers and blinked. Nothing happened. No poof, no smoke, no sparkles. Not even a snap crackle pop. Not even a fart. Genie was still dressed like a Halloween harem girl, and Richard still wore his snap-crotch jeans with GIGANTICALLY ENORMOUS, SO BIG IT MUST BE WRITTEN IN ALL CAPS diaper bulge. Like seriously serious, his diaper was SUPER noticeable. You couldn’t miss it, not even from outer space. Richard blinked, waiting for something to happen. For his clothes to change. For Genie to disappear. “Nothing happened. Why didn’t anything happen?” “Something had to have happened. I used my magic.” “Do you see any changes? That spell was a dud.” “Are you accusing me of faulty magic?” “Yeah, I am. Do you see anything that’s changed? No. Therefore, the spell didn’t work. Like, duh.” Richard mimicked her tone. Genie stamped a foot. “How rude! I’m offended! I totally know what I’m doing! I’m very experienced at this!” Richard crossed his arms. “And how many have wishes have you granted in the past?” “That’s none of your business. I’m not telling you.” She stuck her tongue out. “How many? If you’re so experienced, it must be a lot. Surely you kept track for bragging rights?” “Maybe I’m not so egotistical as to brag about how many wishes I’ve granted. But I assure you it’s a whole lot! Like, way way more than Aladdin’s stupid genie!” “If you’re so great, why didn’t your spell work? You must’ve done something wrong.” “This is my first time, cut me some slack, damn it!” “Hah! I knew it!” “Oh, shut up, diaper butt!” Genie turned angrily and stomped up to the house. Richard defiantly sat in the car for a few minutes until he thought of all the carnage and chaos a strange girl in a harem costume introducing herself as “the diaper genie” would cause. She’d surely tell them all about his diaper! He leapt out of the car and tried to run after her but the ginormous diaper made him waddle. It was super duper crinkly, too. It was as noisy as it was big. In his desperate waddle to get to the porch, Richard was distracted by the diaper’s padding. It was super thick and soft and felt, really, really good rubbing all over him. Like, faptastically good. Soooo good he wanted to stop in the middle of the sidewalk and fap away, right then and there in front of everyone. Screw logic, that diaper felt like SOO good. Thankfully, before Richard could even get the snaps on his pants undone, Genie grabbed his hand as the door opened and his grandma stood there. “Why Genie! Hello there! So glad you could babysit and steal my grandson away from that harpy. Hi Dicky! Come to Grammie! Look at you, walking by yourself! Just like a big boy!” She squatted down and held her arms out to him like he was a baby. Richard blinked and looked at Genie, who shrugged. “I guess my spell did something after all? I’m like your totally hot babysitter! And I guess they all think you’re a baby. Well, that is a solution that explains me being here.” She grinned, proud of herself.

Yuki nodded his head. Ichiro picked up the green tea latte, using his youki to heat the cup up. Static crackled in the air and along Yuki’s skin. Ichiro held the cup up to Yuki, just like he did with his bottles. The ceramic rim touched his lower lip. Notes of matcha and vanilla filled his nostrils. Yuki parted his lips; Ichiro tilted the cup so he could drink. Warmth flowed down his throat, filling his belly and chasing away chilly self doubts. Warmth flowed over his vagina, a long stream of pee soaking into the damp padding. The monstrous diaper swelled, pushing past the hemline of his skirt. No chance of hiding his diaper at all now. He didn’t notice. He finished drinking before he finished peeing. Leaning back from the empty cup, he half expected Ichiro to pick him up over his shoulder and burp him like he did when drinking bottles. Instead, Ichiro patted his lips dry with a napkin. “Feel better?” Yuki nodded. He’d calmed down, fears pushed to the back of his mind. He was determined to get through this night and conquer the ghosts of his trauma. He didn’t want to be a victim. Didn’t want the asshole who’d hurt him to have power over the rest of his life. He was taking his life back, fighting the mental demons with Ichiro. “Are we ready to go?” “Yeah. Hey, Chika-Chika?” Ichiro turned to Chika. Her empty cup and a note scribbled in sloppy hiragana on the back of a receipt sat on the table in front of her empty chair. Her coat and purse were gone. Ichiro plucked the note up with two fingers and read it. “Since you’re here, I leave the baby with you, Lord Ichiro. I’m hunting man-meat. I hear gaijin’s good. Maybe I’ll try lesbian. Wish me luck!” “She makes it sound like a buffet. Italian Monday. Taco Tuesday. Gaijin Wednesday.” Yuki wrinkled his small, pert nose in distaste while Ichiro laughed. “Almost time for our dinner reservations.” Yuki nodded then held his hands out for Ichiro to help him up. As he stood up, the locks on his knee and hip hinges of his brace clicked into place. Ichiro tugged Yuki’s pale pink, faux fur coat up his arms then knelt to button it. Yuki was petite; the typical height for a female yukionna yokai. Ichiro was tall- unusually tall, a gift from his Fae gaijin mother. The height difference always made Yuki feel like a child. His head barely came up to Ichiro’s chest. Ichiro tugged on Yuki’s coat, straightening it. One hand darted under Yuki’s skirt, giving the swollen diaper a discrete squeeze. It squished under his fingers. “You’re pretty wet, but that diaper should hold out through dinner. I want to wait in case you poop. You should be due for a bowel movement soon.” Yuki’s cheeks turned as pink as the heart confetti. He was used to diaper checks, and Ichiro was fast and discrete. In private, diaper checks reassured him he was loved and cared for. In public, he still got embarrassed when Ichiro and Chika talked about his diapers, even if none of the bystanders could understand them. Hand in hand, they headed out to Ichiro’s car.

Rosie giggled. “SHHHH! Nuffin! I’m hot. It feels good. The moon’s pretty.” She kicked at the air, feet dancing. Mrs. King peered closer at her. She studied the girl’s glassy, unfocused eyes, constricted pupils, and disheveled clothes. The older woman sniffed, smelling the alcohol on the teenager’s breath. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her face tightened in anger. Feeling a storm come on, Luc shrank in his seat. His diaper crinkled. Luna nudged his hand, so he pet her. Mrs. King took several deep breaths, calming her rage. When she spoke, her voice was taut as a bowstring with suppressed tension. “Young lady, have you been drinking?” “Nope!” Rosie’s answering smile was lopsided. “Did my Beth and the other girls drink with you?” “Nope! Nope. Nope. Nope.” Rosie broke into slurred, hysterical laughter, amused at the sound of the word. She repeated it over and over as she laughed. She rolled onto her side, sweater coming up to reveal the scrunched top of a generic white pullup. Mrs. King’s eyebrows rose. “Rosie, are you wearing a diaper?” “Nope! It’s a pullup!” Her slurred voice rose to a random, drunken shout. “Cuz last time we drank, we peed ourselves! Remember? Stupid cops wouldn’t let us change our pants! Well, I remembered! Then I remembered Lucas. He pees his diapers all the time and no one knows. He poops them! So, if we wear pullups like Lucas, no one will know if we pee. See?” Rosie shot the older woman a lopsided grin, drunkenly proud of her logic. “Rosie!” Lucas yelled, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Mrs. King shook her head in disgust. She turned her back to them, pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, and called her husband. She explained the situation, told him to look for their daughter Beth and the other drunk girls while she handled Rosie and Lucas. Hanging up, she spied the styrofoam cups from earlier. She picked one up, sniffed it, and frowned at the smell of bourbon. “That was hot chocolate.” Lucas spoke up softly. He buried his fingers in Luna’s thick fur. She licked his cheek. He wished he had his pacifier, but it was dirty from the ground. He didn’t want his cousin in trouble, but she couldn’t keep up this bad behavior. “Did you have some of this, Lucas?” Mrs. King held a cup out to him. He lowered his head. “Yes, ma’am. It tasted funny and made me feel weird.” “So that’s what’s wrong with you.” He cringed at her words. “Sweetie, you’re not in trouble. I know you’re a good boy who doesn’t drink.” She rounded on Rosie. The eighteen year old girl sat up and leaned against one of the big wheels on his wheelchair. Her legs were splayed, sweater pushed up and pullup on display. She looked like an oversized toddler. Mrs. King sighed, anger sinking like a lead balloon into a sea of disappointment. “Oh, Rosie. How could you? And with your grandmother in the hospital, too...I guess July wasn’t enough of a lesson. This time, you got Lucas drunk, too.” Rosie’s glazed eyes widened. “Did not!” She shouted into the night. “Don’t lie to me. Lucas doesn’t drink. Every time your mother and I turn around, you and Beth are soused every chance you get.” “But I’m not lying! We didn’t do it!” “Oh? I suppose the dog here did it.” Luna’s ears lowered and her head dropped into Luc’s lap like she’d been scolded for being a bad girl. Bad dog. He rubbed her muzzle but kept quiet. He had his doubts about Rosie. Mrs. King sighed deeply. “Enough. I’m not going to talk to you when you don’t remember anything. I’m taking you two home, getting Lucas settled into bed, then calling your mom.” She paused to pin the drunk girl with the stink eye. “Rosie. I’m disappointed in you. This is the lowest you’ve ever sunk. Considering getting arrested in July, that’s really saying something.” Rosie withered at the stern parental tone. She cringed into the side of the wheel, her fingers loosely grasping the thin metal spokes. “Yes, ma’am.” She mumbled, wiping at her tears but she kept missing her face. Luc almost felt sorry for her. She was such a pitiful sight. But she brought this on herself. She never learned her lesson. He glanced up at Mrs. King. “Can Luna still come home with me?” “Of course, sweetie.”

He smiled. “Good to see you can still smile. I heard you haven’t since Heidi’s death.” Gertrude’s smile turned wooden. “There hasn’t been much to smile about.” Josef stepped close then his muscular arms wrapped around her. “You were close with her. We all miss her; she was family.” Gertrude laid her head on his shoulder, but his touch wasn’t as comforting as it once was. She could hear the ‘but’ in his voice. “But it’s for the best.” She finished. He kissed the top of her head and her tangled, unbrushed hair to placate the bitterness in her tone. “I know times have been hard. Just think how much harder they’d be if Heidi was still here.” His voice was gentle, tender. He tried to cushion a hard truth. He was right. The truth of his words stung the worst. She remembered what a relief it was to no longer have the added burden of caring for her sister. She pulled away. “I loved her.” “We all did.” Sudden tears blurred her eyes. Gertrude waved a hand at him to silence his words. She forgot she still had the diaper; the thick white cloth fluttered in the air like a flag of surrender. “Gluhwein, right? Let me get you some.” She spun on her heel to fetch a glass and a wine bottle. Her eyes were dry by the time she’d poured him a glass of mulled wine and turned back around. Josef had cut off a slice of stollen and chewed it. His face held the same disappointment she’d tasted earlier. “Maybe next year will be better.” She held the glass out to him. The thick, dark wine sloshed about looking like blood in the dim light. It made her think of Magda’s words in the barn. Blood seeping from bullet wounds caused by guns like Josef’s rifle. She couldn’t picture her loving cousin shooting someone, even if they were a Jew. Josef shooting Magda dead like her parents. Those thoughts churned her stomach sour. “Gertie, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good.” Josef took the glass, set it on the counter, then his big hands grasped her shoulders. She found comfort in the same hands that pulled the trigger. “The world’s falling apart. I’m going crazy.” Gertrude shook her head to clear the thoughts away. She forced a shaky smile. “I’m okay. I just need some sleep.” She needed to get Magda away from Josef. “I know the feeling. I have nights like this. All the boys do. Here, drink.” He held the wine up to her lips, pressing her to drink. Gertrude took a sip. The wine only held the barest hint of its usual strong pice, and the wine itself had been watered down to stretch it out. It was almost as bad as the stollen. She stepped back. “It’s late. We should get back to bed. We’ll have to get up soon. You go on ahead. I’ll clean my mess up.” “I’ll help.” “No, it’s women’s work.” “I don’t mind.” “I do. I feel bad enough for waking you up.” “I can’t leave you alone in your state.” “I insist. It’s not much mess. I’m fine.” Gertrude’s heart sped up. Magda was trapped in that pantry until he left. What if she was still in there when everyone got up? Josef noticed the wet bar of soap, the pitcher, wash basin and towels on the floor. “Oh, the soap? I had a nightmare. Woke up all sweaty. I didn’t wanna wake everyone and use the shower upstairs. So I just freshened up down here. You go back to bed. “ Josef pulled out a chair and sat down. “It’s almost like you want to get rid of me.” His tone was partially teasing as he cut himself another slice of flavorless stollen. “But I feel bad. You work so hard all year. You got really lucky, able to come home for Christmas. The rest of our cousins aren’t here. You should be resting in your own bed.” “I wouldn’t be able to sleep, leaving you like this. Out of all us kids, I was closest with you. You were like my baby sister.” His words gave Gertrude inspiration. She handed him a wine bottle and smiled. “Okay. You know what would make me feel better? Continue me and Heidi’s Christmas Eve tradition. You take this and go wait for me upstairs in my room. I’ll be up in a minute with cookies. Okay? Please.” She added puppy dog eyes when he hesitated. “Oh, alright.” Josef caved under her pout. “Yay. We’ll save this Christmas yet.” She just hoped he didn’t find her wet diaper she’d hidden under the bed. Getting Magda out of here was more important. “Well, go on.” She shooed while Josef took his good, sweet time getting up. “Get a head start on the wine.” He perked up at that suggestion. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” He stood up. “Hey, my coat’s on the floor.” Bottle in hand, he headed for the coat rack. His coat was a dark shadow on the floor.

Hehe, Luc is more mature than Rosie- or at least, he uses his brain more than Rosie uses her. She's very impulsive..in a way, she's a bit like Luna xD. Rosie was lucky Luna wasn't ornery enough to bite. Then again, Luna's trying to be on her best behavior to get into Luc's good graces. Oh, there's some fun ahead with Rosie! But I don't want to spoil the surprise.