#(scrooge now refuses to play against him)

[glomscrooge]

I think glomgold would be excellent at 5d chess with multiverse time travel

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Seducing A Scrooge | Jegulus

“Oh, my sweet girl. What has that madman done to you now?” Regulus cooed, crossing the room to you.

feat. poly!jegulus x reader

SUMMARY: Regulus is having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year, so you and James devise a plot to spread some holiday cheer.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut with zero plot, established relationship, being tied up with Christmas decorations, group sex, praise kink, mix of sweetness and rough-ish stuff, lots of spit swapping, switch!reg and softdom!james

divider by @issysh3ll

“Jamie, this might be overkill,” you mumbled through the ribbon between your teeth.

“Nonsense.” He stuck a present bow to the top of your head. “Unless your uncomfortable,” he amended, wiggling his fingers between the tinsel and your skin to ensure it wasn't wrapped to tightly around you.

You shook your head, your thighs clenching together when he adjusted your position by lifting you by your festive bondage.

“Ah, just impatient?” James teased, setting you a bit more upright against the headboard. He skimmed his cool fingers over his work, the tinsel and lights wrapped around your body in complicated twists and knots, digging into your soft flesh and leaving a dusting of glitter over your skin. “We'll unwrap you soon enough, love,” he hummed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“How much longer will he be?” You whined, not in a hurry to be released, but already desperate for your lovers to touch you. James’ slow, deliberate ministrations while tying you up had set your body on fire, which he refused to quell before Regulus could play with you himself.

“Not much longer. Do you need anything while we wait?” He kissed down your neck, illuminated pink by the LED’s, featherlight and teasing. The tight ball of arousal in your stomach tightened further, your clit damn near aching clenched between your thighs.

You let out a soft whimper when he grazed his teeth over your pulse point. “An orgasm?” You ventured, and he chuckled against your skin.

“Sorry, darling. Watching you squirm is far too enjoyable to cut short.” He gave you one last peck on the cheek before rolling off the bed. He waved his wand to light the fireplace and start up some soft Christmas instrumentals on your muggle record player.

If Regulus heard “Jingle Bells” immediately upon entering the cabin, he'd turn straight around.

Your boyfriend, who was tempermental on a good day, seemed to have descended into full Scrooge this holiday season.

You and James had tried everything to infect him with the holiday spirit, from decorating your shared flat floor to ceiling in the gorgeous, vintage-holiday style he preferred, to going on romantic walks to see the lights, all bundled up in heavy coats and scarves. You'd even planned an elaborate date night to see the Nutcracker ballet, with coordinated outfits and a fancy dinner, but he was clearly only indulging your efforts, not actually enjoying the festivities himself.

So, you and James concocted a last ditch effort to raise his spirits, festive or otherwise. And now here you were, done up like a slutty Christmas tree.

Both of your ears perked at the sound of a bell chiming, enchanted to ring whenever one of the three of you arrived home.

James gave you a salacious grin. “Stay here,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before darting out to meet Regulus at the front door.

“Like I have a choice,” you grumbled yourself, shifting slightly and feeling the slick collecting between your legs.

“Welcome home, love,” James said, his voice warm and gentle, and you heard Regulus murmur something in response. Your muscles bunched with tension, and you bit down on the ribbon to stifle any sounds you might make.

“I should have known better than trying to go to the fucking shops two weeks before Christmas,” he grumbled, dropping his things on the dining room table. “Absolute insanity.”

“I can imagine,” James chuckled, and you could hear his arms wrap around Regulus, his coat crinkling against the taller boys chest. “Glad you're home,” James said softly, and your heart swelled.

After a few moments of quiet, you heard Regulus speak again. “Where's y/n? I bought her something.”

You sucked in a breath.

“A Christmas present?” James teased, and Regulus scoffed.

“No, just a regular present.” He rummaged through some bags, and withdrew something that sounded like clothing.

James gave a low whistle, and heat scorched your skin. “Oh, Reg. She'll love that,” he gushed.

“I thought so. Where is she? Over at Remus'?”

“Bedroom,” James replied, casual as could be.

The next second, James was opening the bedroom door and Regulus strode in, a gorgeous, red velvet dress in his hands. He froze when his eyes finally landed on you, widening a fraction before his beautiful face split into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, my sweet girl. What has that madman done to you now?” He cooed, laying the dress on the chair before crossing the room to you.

“It was her idea,” James chuckled, leaning against the doorway.

“Not entirely!” You mumbled around the ribbon, and Regulus’ smile widened.

Regulus’ fingers traced the tinsel over your thighs, over your soaked apex, and up to catch your chin, tilting your face towards him. “This true, darling? Did you two conspire against me?”

Your eyes widened, fixed on his dilating pupils, blackness overtaking the soft green irises. There was something about Regulus that never failed to make your brain shut off, and you found yourself struggling to formulate a response.

“Well, what a lovely little pair of trickster elves you are.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, more a caress than a kiss, leaving your skin tingling in his wake. “And what a pretty Christmas decoration you make.” Regulus pulled back, admiring James’ work, and the way your curves strained against it.

“She was so good while I tied her up. Barely moved a muscle,” James praised, easing himself onto the bed beside you and running hand over your thigh, the muscles jumping at his delicate touch.

Your pussy was practically thrumming with anticipation, their words only amplifying your needy state.

“That so?” Regulus removed his shoes and coat, revealing the tight, black turtleneck and expensive jeans underneath.

You nodded, trying hard not to squirm as James started kneading your flesh with his big hands, slowly inching closer to your center.

“Although,” James hummed, his hand pausing. You held back a strangled whine, your hips flinching closer to his fingers. “She did start to get a little impatient towards the end. Even asked me to get her off before you got home.”

You glared daggers at James, earning a sly smirk.

Regulus tsked. “Jamie, be a dear and hold her still for me.”

Without another word, James stripped his clothing, revealing his tanned, muscular torso and matching cock, already at attention, before climbing into bed. He arranged you both so he was sitting behind you, your head leaned against his chest. His hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently in reassurance as Regulus approached.

“Did James tying you up make you that desperate?” He asked, and you nodded, your heart racing. “You like being at our mercy? Ours to treat however we please?” He dragged the tips of his fingers over your skin, making you shiver against James and forget your words.

“Yes or no, lovey,” James encouraged, his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Undo her legs,” Regulus ordered.

Excitement washed through you, and James was quick to literally tear the tinsel off of you, throwing it onto the floor beside the bed while Regulus carefully unwound the lights. Then James tucked his hands under your knees, pulling your legs apart and back towards him, exposing your sodden cunt to the warm air of the room, and the sticky mess you made along your inner thighs.

The stretch felt exquisite after an hour of being locked in place, and a soft moan spilled from your lips.

“Seems our little love really likes to be tied up,” Regulus mused, kneeling on the edge of the bed and shirking his sweater. “Drooling all over my expensive duvet,” he chastised, though his words dripped with approval.

“To be fair, I didn't make it easy on her,” James said, pressing affectionate kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“I'm sure you didn't. You're as insatiable as she is.”

James chuckled, the rumble making your tits bounce, and Regulus’ eyes darkened further. James caught his expression and dragged his hands up your body, cupping your tits, framed by a harness of lights, in his long fingers.

“So fucking pretty,” he hummed, grazing his thumbs over the hardened peaks, making your back bow as pleasure zapped through you.

“Like a piece of art,” Regulus added, lowering his face between your legs, his black curls tickling your thighs.

You fought against the ribbon in your mouth, attempting to dislodge it. James hooked a finger into the knot and unraveled it, freeing you instantly.

“Please, Reggie, please, please touch me,” you whined, knowing how much he loved to hear you beg.

“What do you think, Jamie?” Regulus asked, dragging the tip of his nose along your sensitive skin, breathing you in.

“I think she might combust if you don't,” James snickered, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. You arched off of him, cursing under your breath as your pussy throbbed.

“Well, we can't have that,” Regulus hummed, his breath ghosting over your slick lips before his tongue laved through you, turning your thoughts to static.

He licked up and down your pussy, skirting around your clit in a wide arc. You melted onto James' embrace, his fingers plucking at your nipples while he mouthed at your throat, sucking marks across your skin.

“Reggie,” you whined, your fingers itching to thread through his hair, to reach back and hold James, but unable to do anything it grip the tinsel that binds them.

You felt Regulus smile against you, and he finally sealed his lips to your clit, nursing softly. You nearly come undone then and there, lifting off James with a cry as sparks flash behind your eyelids.

“So sensitive,” James said, snaking one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place. “He makin’ you feel good, lovey?”

“So f-fucking good,” you moaned, throwing your head back against James shoulder.

“You taste delicious, amour,” Regulus hummed, lapping at the pool of moisture collecting at your entrance. “Sweet as honey.” Regulus sat up briefly, catching James’ chin and kissing him, licking into his mouth. You watched their tongues dance, spit and your slick mixing in their sloppy exchange, James cock pulsing with excitement against your lower back.

Regulus pulled away after a few moments, a string of spit connecting their lips before he lowered himself back between your legs.

“C'mere.” James grabbed your jaw and angled your head towards him, capturing your lips in a simmering, languid kiss, the taste of you and Regulus lingering on his tongue. His licked at your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth to nibble on the tender flesh.

You moaned into his mouth, Regulus’ tongue doing something that made your brain short circuit, pushing you that much closer to your peak.

Regulus made a low hum in his throat. James broke the kiss to look down at him between your legs, his lips swollen and shiny with spit, eyes blown wide with affection.

“Gonna come for him, sweet thing? Shit—you’re trembling, love. Doing so good, Reggie.” James carded his fingers through Regulus' hair, and he leaned into his touch, practically purring with contentment against your sex.

It was so tender, so indulgent, you felt like you were glowing brighter than the Christmas lights, the most delicious heat spilling through you.

Regulus increased his tempo, so eager to make you come on his tongue while James held you together, soothing and loving on you both through the rising tide.

“Oh, god…f-fuck, m’gonna come. Yes, yes, yes!” You cried out as your orgasm rocked through you, electric pleasure frying your fragile nerves, making you twitch and convulse in James’ arms.

“Atta girl. Worth the wait, hm?" James praised, holding you tightly as your body shuddered through it, Regulus lapping up every drop he’d wrung from you, prolonging your release.

“Beautiful, amour,” Regulus purred when you finally settled, peppering kisses up your stomach to kiss you, his face damp from your release, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He turned to kiss James, who dragged his tongue up Regulus' cheek to taste you.

“Switch with me,” James murmured to Regulus, sliding out from under you.

You trembled as you sat up, your body still recovering from that slow burn release, your muscles fatigued from the bondage. Regulus slipped behind you, quickly undoing the tinsel that held your arms so you could move a little more freely.

You moaned in relief as you sagged against him, stretching your arms overhead. He took one of your hands, massaging each finger gently before kissing your knuckles.

You nearly forgot about James, so fixated on Regulus’ attentive touch, until James lifted your hips, shifting you higher onto Regulus’ chest.

“Jamie, what are you—oh fuck,” Regulus loosed a strangled moan, and you felt his half-hard cock slap against your sensitive cunt, suddenly freed from his pants.

James shimmied Regulus’ jeans down his legs, tossing them aside before settling back between your thighs. Gingerly, you removed James’ glasses and set them on the end table before smoothing his curls out of his eyes.

Regulus wrapped his arms around you, one holding your hip, the other cradling your throat. Not applying pressure, just feeling your pulse, your breath, under his fingers. He kissed along your cheek, licking at the shell of your ear.

“You know how much you mean to me?” He murmured, skimming your jaw with his thumb so you looked at him.

“Enough that you'll tolerate our festive shenanigans?” You grinned, pecking his cheek.

“Even more than that,” he hummed, pressing a loose, light as air kiss to your lips. Suddenly, his hips jerked, his teeth nearly knocking into yours. “Fucking hell, Potter—” James’ name fractured into a low groan, and you felt James nose brush your sex as he took Regulus into his mouth.

“Oh-oh,” you moaned when James lifted off Regulus to lick up your slit, his tongue dragging between the two of you. He pressed Regulus’ shaft against your slit, rocking between your slick folds as he began thrusting against James’ mouth, the combined friction making your eyes cross.

“Merlin, so f-fucking good, babe. So wet and warm,” Regulus moaned into the side of your neck, his lips latching onto your skin and sucking.

You weren't sure who he was talking to, but both you and James preened at the approval, James emboldened in his efforts to feast on you both simultaneously.

If anyone could pull off such a sexual feat, it was James Fleamont Potter.

You tightened your grip on James’ hair and reached your other hand up to hold Regulus, sliding your fingers into the damp curls at his nape. The contact kept you grounded while James worked to send your body to the moon.

“I wish you two could see this,” James said after coming up for air, breathless and starry-eyed. “So fuckin’ hot seeing you both dripping.”

Regulus made a whimpering sound in his throat, his hips canting up with a little more insistence.

“Jamie, want him inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips in time with Regulus’ movements.

“Fuck, please, amour,” Regulus' added, and James gave a smug grin, his plan having come to perfect fruition.

It never failed to amaze you how quickly the always-cool Regulus Black would fall apart under your or James' touch. How quickly you could work his Royal Highness into brainless, desperate putty.

Not that you were in any position to talk, James was the only one of you who could keep a level head during sex. Which was why he often was the one to take the lead once you got into it.

You watched James grip Regulus’ cock, stroking him a few times. “Lift your hips, lovey,” he said, and Regulus lifted you for him, gripping your hips . James lined the two of you up, and with a nod, Regulus speared you slowly onto his length.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, his cockhead grazing every delicious inch of your channel before bumping against your cervix, the feeling of fullness wonderfully intense.

Regulus moaned, a string of mumbled french spilling from his lips as your pussy sucked him deeper, soft and pulsing around his rigidity.

“Such a good girl,” James praised, practically drooling from his front row seat. “Taking him so well.” He leaned forward, licking a stripe from Regulus' base to your clit, and you both cried out as a new height of pleasure crescendoed, clinging to one another. You felt Regulus’ cock throb inside of you, his body trembling with the effort of holding still.

“James—” Regulus hissed through his teeth when James did it again, torturing you both.

“Fine, fine. Can you blame me? Prettiest sight I've ever fucking seen,” he said, sitting up and holding his arms out to you. “Come here, darling. Let me help you.”

Regulus eased you up onto your knees and you wrapped your arms around James, his strong arms embracing your waist as you buried your face into his neck. He smelled of sex and his spruce body wash, so very James, and you melted onto his arms, knowing he could bear your weight with ease.

You felt James nod his head, hold tightening, and Regulus snapped his hips upwards, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Oh fuck!” You cried as Regulus pounded up into you, his cock ruthlessly filling you over and over again while James kept you steady. All the sweetness cast aside in desperation.

“Good girl, that's it. Just hold onto me and take it,” James purred, reaching one of his hands down to grope your ass, delivering a stinging slap to the jiggling fat.

“Feel so fucking good,” Regulus growled, his grip on your hips hard enough to bruise. “Petite putain d'allumeuse.”

“Jamie,” you whined, struggling to vocalize the thoughts spilling from your mind while Regulus used your cunt like his personal fleshlight.

“What, lovey?” He cooed, smoothing your hair from your face.

Your mouth hung open, beautifully pink and wet. Begging to be filled.

He grazed his thumb over your lip. “You want something to suck, precious?” He dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly sucked it, eyes fluttering closed. “Ah, thought so.” He stared adoringly down at you, letting you nurse for a moment before removing his hand.

“Lean forward, love,” Regulus directed, his voice rough with exertion, and James stepped off the bed, letting you fall forward off of Regulus' cock. A low growl rumbled through Regulus' as he sat up behind you, his hands gripping your ass and spreading your cheeks. “Seven fucking saints, you're gorgeous.” He dragged his tongue through your sloppy cunt before straightening, lining up his cock once more before filling you back up, hitting a new, toe-curling angle deep inside of you.

“Mmph, Reggie,” you moaned, rocking back against his hips. “So b-big.”

Regulus grabbed the remaining restraints around your torso, forcing you up onto your hands, head forward where you were greeted by James’ pretty cock, flushed pink and dripping pearls. “Open, amour,” he ordered, but your jaw was already dropping, tongue out as you looked up at James through your lashes.

James spit on your tongue, slapping his cock head against it before easing himself into the wet warmth of your mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, love,” he groaned, head falling back on his shoulders as you started to suck him, Regulus’ thrusts forcing you further down James’ shaft. Regulus was manhandling you like a puppet, using the harness of tinsel to slide you up and down his cock.

You head completely emptied then, your body taking over as they fucked you from both ends, dominating every inch of you: mind, body, and soul. The pleasure was overwhelming, winding through every inch of you until it felt like you were cracking apart, your soul spilling out for them to take.

You heard them kissing above you, moaning and growling into each other's mouths like dueling animals, pummeling you between them.

You reached a hand between your legs, your clit begging for stimulation, and you began to rub tight circles over it, moaning around James’ length as your orgasm barreled closer.

“Close, hm?” Regulus purred in your ear, his front pressing against your back, and you nodded around James’ cock, gagging on a particularly deep thrust.

“Merlin, me too,” James groaned, fisting your hair as he fucked your face, sweat gleaming on his muscular chest, his dark hair a wild mess. “Gonna come down that hot little throat—fuck!”

A jet of cum blasted against your tonsils, his cock bucking against your tongue as his orgasm washed over him, his handsome face screwed up in ecstasy.

You greedily swallowed it all, sucking him until he was trembling and crying out, his body going limp as you overstimulated him.

“Your turn,” Regulus growled, speeding up his thrusts until you collapsed onto the bed, a screaming, shaking mess as he forced an orgasm out of you, the brutality of it knocking your soul from your body, splitting your mind in half as the room fell away and you ascended.

Distantly, you felt Regulus come too, his cry broken and loud enough to vibrate your ears as he fucked his spend into your quivering channel.

He collapsed onto you, breathing raged and skin sweaty. Slowly, your brain pieced itself back together, your muscles turned to goo, your skin tingling and sensitive as James rubbed small, soothing circles over your back.

“So good, lovey. You did so well,” you heard James murmur, pressing kisses to your and Regulus’ faces while he undid the last of your bondage.

Regulus curled around you, burying his face into you back of your neck. “I take it all back, I fucking love Christmas,” he mumbled, reaching out to tug James into the cuddle.

“I knew it,” James grinned, pulling your head onto his chest and wrapping an arm around you both, your legs tangled together. He twined his fingers with Regulus’ hand on your hip, guiding them to rest over his thundering heart.

“I think you just love pussy,” you teased, lazily grinding your ass against Regulus.

“That too,” he huffed a laugh, nipping at your earlobe.

“Well, I love you both,” James pressed a kiss to your forehead and brought Regulus’ knuckles to his lips.

“Love you,” you hummed, kissing James’ chest.

“Je t'aime,” Regulus shifted up to kiss James before dropping a kiss to your temple. “And thank you for showing me the true meaning of Christmas.”

“Pussy?” James asked.

“Pussy,” Regulus affirmed, and you snorted a laugh.

Thanks for reading!

[yuwuta]

i fear there are only few of us left who gaf about eren :/ do u think anything else about him im so deprived

ofc ofc ofc that’s my baby ://///// i think about him all the time always <33

His niche of skills is based in homemaking and actual home-making as in construction because when he would act up as a kid, those were the punishments Carla gave him LOL. He got into a fight at school and she’d make him chop wood and start a fire. He was rude to her or Mikasa and she forced him to iron everyone’s clean laundry and fold it after. He made a mess being reckless when she told him to do his homework and she sent him outside to go lay new bricks around the well. All of which reigned him in by the time he was 12ish, and then he started just… doing it for fun or doing it preemptively before his attitude got out of hand. He’d have a bad day at school, and his mom would come home to him mowing the lawn or planting new trees or fixing the plumbing or fixing that broken leg on the chair or cleaning the gutter or harvesting the vegetables or fixing that crack in the wall; it becomes a sort of outlet for him. So now, occasionally you’ll see Eren run his fingers across a cracked wall or chipped piece of furniture and him mumbling some home depot jargon to himself about how he could fix it and whatnot. And he can. He proves to be very useful when your landlord is a deadbeat, and very attractive when he just decides to sit in the living room and put your furniture together.

He’s not a terrible cook, but he’s not a great one either. With effort, he can follow a recipe but there’s always something off. Except maybe one or two dishes from his childhood that he can make perfectly. They’re the first things he ever cooks for you. He’s not that bad when it comes to baking, much to everyone’s surprise. He makes a pretty decent cupcake. Also, whenever he does cook, or just helps you cook, he wears an apron.

If you asked him, he’d say cheek kisses are his favorite. He likes giving them, but he likes receiving them even more. There’s just something so sweet about it… you’re so gentle with him sometimes it stuns him, and something about kissing his cheek is so pure that it makes Eren stop and wonder how one person could make him so happy. His favorite kind of kisses to give you are forehead kisses, especially if he’s taller than you. It makes him feel like he can protect you, reminds him he has something to fight for.

Terrified of thunder and lightning but he refuses to admit it. Whenever it’s raining, he finds himself curled up on the couch, preferably laying on top of you and sleeping away as much of the day/night as he can. Sometimes he just wants his head on your lap and your hands in his hair; something else to focus on other than the sounds outside. But, admittedly, he likes it when you play with his hair on any day.

Has your last name saved as his last name in his phone. Also definitely doodled your name with his last name in his notebooks as a kid with hearts and kisses around it.

Not a morning person in the slightest and he will make it everybody’s problem. He can be such a scrooge in the morning, no matter what or when he eats or wakes up. You just have to ease him into the day, let him flop on you and lean against you and a kiss or two couldn’t hurt.

He’s a terrible gossip. And he likes to start drama. Messy in every sense of the word. He wants all the tea, he wants names and dates and receipts, and if he has the chance to stir the pot just know that he WILL! The boys are all bitter that Eren is the one who gets invited to girls night but he simply makes himself one of the girls (and he’s so willing to sell out Jean or Connie if it means he gets a seat at the table). Plus, he makes pretty good tea and supplies the desserts, and is everyone’s handyman—he built this gossip session brick by brick.

[fallenrocket]

Unhatched Observations: Parks and Recreation

After I started to figure out that I was autistic/ADHD, I realized just how many of "my" movies/shows/etc. have Big Neurodivergent Energy. Lately, I've been looking through old posts on my blog about some of these stories, and it's been fun to revisit what I wrote about them as an "unhatched" AuDHDer. They're basically wall-to-wall "I love everything autistic and/or ADHD about you," even if I didn't have the words to articulate that at the time. Something else to file under How Did It Take Me So Long to Realize???

Anyway, here's some of what I wrote about Parks and Rec! (Side note: Leslie and Ben are far from the only ND-coded characters on the show. But they're my favorites, so they're the ones I was mainly writing about.)

Favorite Characters: Leslie Knope

Whether it’s overseeing a crazy-making public forum, raising money for an ambitious new park project, or searching for a rogue possum spotted in the vicinity of the golf course, she consistently puts in 125%. Leslie thrives on solving crises, and she never met an issue she couldn’t tackle head-on, usually armed with a fastidiously-assembled binder on the subject and an increasingly-complex multi-point plan.

***

She puts her head for obsessively-detailed minutiae into furthering these goals, and she fights tenaciously to see those goals realized.

***

Among her friends/significant others, she’s known for her thoughtful gifts, her love of scrapbooking fond memories, and the irritating degree to which she believes in people and pushes them to be their best. Not to say that work never gets in the way of a relationship or vice versa, but it’s never because Leslie is consciously letting something fall by the wayside. It’s just that she cares about so much that she inevitably loses track of something or someone every now and then, if only for a short while.

***

Like many people, her best qualities can just as easily become her worst ones under particular circumstances. She’s very confident and take-charge, and that means she sometimes “steamrolls” over people under the assumption that she knows what’s best. She cares deeply about what she does, but when she inflates the importance of a situation too far beyond what it warrants, the whole thing can spiral out of control and turn into an even bigger mishap. She’s honest to a fault, and she’s been known to unintentionally hinder herself in her refusal to be crafty or diplomatic.

Favorite Characters: Ben Wyatt

While Chris is the chipper good cop ready to approve everything, Ben is the spreadsheet junkie who makes the tough calls and the hard cuts. But that doesn’t mean Ben is the heartless villain Leslie imagines, a la Ebenezer Scrooge or Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life. Rather, he’s exceedingly practical and doesn’t mince words about it—when cities are bankrupt, hard decisions have to be made, and he’s prepared to do it. 

***

The man named his calculator, bless him.

***

He’s not a player like Tom or a “man’s man” like Ron, but Ben is very self-assured. He knows who he is, and he doesn’t mind. So he takes it when others tease him about being nerdy or liking calzones (Pawnee is relentlessly anti-calzone.) When he gets flustered or overwhelmed, he doesn’t play it off or pretend he’s more confident than he is. He openly admits to being afraid of cops, and roller skates are a turn-on for him.

Relationship Spotlight: Ben Wyatt & Leslie Knope

While Leslie comes in hot, determined to crusade against Ben the evil budget-slasher that she believes is champing at the bit to fire everyone, Ben is just a guy doing his job, one who demonstrates a surprisingly-high tolerance for her manic steamroller tendencies from the jump. It isn’t long before they start to get to know each other and immediately develop a friendlier relationship.

***

Leslie and Ben, delightfully, are simpatico and complementary at the same time. They’re both hardworking policy wonks with a devotion to government who pay great attention to detail. With Ben, we see that come out in his love for budget minutiae, and nothing makes Leslie happier than filling an enormous binder with every last scrap of information about a planned project. They also share a similar dorky glee for a job well done, a tendency to spiral out when they’re stressed, and a fondness for Model UN. Meanwhile, Leslie is a sunshiny dreamer who uses hyperbole like it’s going out of style and brings an Energizer-Bunny-like determination to the proceedings, while Ben thrives on logic and pragmatism, responding dryly to Leslie’s over-the-top enthusiasm.

***

We see how they get along, and what’s more, we really see how they like and admire each other. Yes, they’re both physically-attractive people and that’s part of their attraction to one another (over time, we learn how much Leslie loves Ben’s butt,) but that’s never presented as the reason why they like each other. Instead, first and foremost, they like one another as people, and the love is born out of that.

[rosethreeart]

WIP: 5 times Delaware helps his siblings and one time they return the favor

This is the first section (as of now I might reorder them) for the fic I'm working on! I already got 2 one (working on the third rn :D) but wanted to share this one with yall ;)

This one is the one featuring NY!

New York couldn’t sleep. It didn’t matter how many times he tossed and turned. It didn’t matter what noises he played or if he was in absolute silence. Nor did the amount of blankets or pillows or stuffed animals (which he refused to admit he had) he constantly added or removed helped. He could not sleep.

New York could not remember how long it had been since he last got a good night's rest. Was it only 24 hours? Or had it been 48? Was he closing in on 72? The day (days?) had all blurred together at this point for him. He found himself getting easily irritated with paranoia creeping up his neck. It didn’t matter what his siblings would try to say or do for him, he would snap. He even snapped at his mother. He winced at the memory, trying to block out the horridly concealed hurt on her face. He shuddered.

Screaming into his pillow for what felt like the hundredth time that night, New York begrudgingly decided that he would get up. What was that saying again? Early bird gets the worm? If that was a case he was a very early and hopefully worm-filled bird at…3 am. Now that he thought about it being worm-filled did not seem all that pleasant. Being pie filled on the other hand? That sounded great. His stomach rumbled. Or was it cramped? He couldn’t tell.

New York was always a big fan of baked goods; had a sweet-tooth since birth, his mother would say. Perhaps it stemmed from when they were young and sweets and treats were a luxury they could not afford. They typically ended up needing to steal from the local town's bakery. They got in trouble many times however, that, nor any whips to the back or hand, or any other harsh punishments, had stopped them. Perhaps that only solidified his view of it further. That only those who could afford it could enjoy life. Perhaps that was why he strives to be so well off; studying the ways of economics, stocks,  politics, trade, and so many more things to get a one-up in this horrid monopoly-like game of life. Call him greedy, or a penny pincher, or a scrooge all you want; he will never let his family end up in such a horrid financial position again. He already failed once when the stock market crashed in 1929. He refused to let that happen again.

Where was he again? What was he doing?

New York looked down at the stairs below. Were they swaying or was that him? Who cares, he needed to go down them.

Slowly, but steadily, a method he was not keen on, he made his way down. With each step he felt a little more undone. 

What was that squeak? Was that a mouse? Was there an intruder? 

He stilled.

He felt his heart pounding his chest.

Step.

Squeak.

“Motherfucker!” He screamed, practically jumping out his skin.

Shit.

 Oh shit he fucked up. 

Oh fuck oh fuckufckufckfuckfuck. 

He slammed his hands over his mouth and threw his back against the railing. He hardly even breathed, waiting to hear some sort of stir, praying that he wouldn’t have to give an explanation that he was so sleep-deprived he couldn’t recognize the sound of his own feet squeaking on the staircase. 

He stayed there for another moment or so, too afraid of his fumbling. New York could practically feel the inside of his body and skin itching to move; he was not one who enjoyed staying still for too long— it was even worse when he went without sleep. So he continued creeping down the stairs, practically giving a sob in relief as he hit the bottom step. 

What New York was not prepared for was the feeling of his legs turning to jelly and capsizing him, sending him straight for the floor. If it wasn’t for a pair of  lanky arms, his face would have been squashed.

It took him a moment, even after being gently sat on the ground before he realized who had helped him.

It was Delaware. 

Of course it was.

Now he had no place to judge others on their sleeping habits, but really, he had no reason to be awake at that moment.

“What are you doing? Why are you still up?” He interrogated.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Delaware said, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“You’re dodging the question.” New York squinted his eyes.

“What is this, a courtroom drama?”

“If you let me wake the Masshole up we can make it one for sure.”

“Amusing.”

“As always,” New York gave a shark tooth like grin; very typical of his usual smile— not the one he reserves for acting or his “faking it till he makes it” attitude.

Delaware took a seat right next to him. Suspicious. 

Leaning against his bony-brother, he asked. “Wanna be for real now dude?”

Delaware sighed, “Same issue as you; couldn’t sleep.”

New York just nodded his head.

“Was that you who screamed earlier?’

“Yikes, you heard that?” He winced.

“I’d be surprised if the neighbors didn’t hear,” Delaware laughed.

New York just shoved his head in his hands and groaned.

Delaware gently wrapped his arms around his younger brother, “I got an idea,” New York peaked one eye through his fingers, “Why don’t we go sit on the coach and watch some Brady Bunch? I’ll make you some hot chocolate; how does that sound?”

A tear slipped from his bleary eyes as New York burrowed into Delaware's warm embrace. That was all the confirmation needed.

Now settled nicely on the couch with a warm hot chocolate while watching TV, the two sat in silence. While his stomach was now warm, he still felt a cold pit in his core.

“I’m sorry…” New York said, squirming in his seat.

“Didn’t know you knew how to say that,” Delaware jested.

“Shut up.”

He looked at the half empty cup in his hand; finding it hard to look at his reflection without his stomach wanting to do a flip.

“ I don’t…I don’t mean to…It’s just—” For some reason he found the words stuck in throat, like they were choking him.

Placing the warm beverage on the table in front of him, New York sighed, “ I wish I wasn’t the way I was.” He curled up into a ball, head concealed between his way too long legs.

It was quiet for a moment. New York couldn’t tell if his brother was shocked at the statement, but a small horrid part of him worried it was because he agreed.

“I think,” Delaware said scooting closer to him, “That if that was the case then you wouldn’t be you and…well..we love you.”

New York popped his head out like a groundhog, furrowing his eyebrows.

Delaware’s eyes widened, “What I mean is-Well..I..” He sighed, “Listen, I know it’s hard. It’s just..Sometimes life gives you shit. You either cave in and let the hate and bitterness consume you or you keep going.”

Delaware grabbed his hands, “I need you to keep going.”

New York found it hard to look at his brother through the puddles now forming in his eyes, “I’m trying.”

“I know.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“I don't want you guys to hate me..”

“Never.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

New York couldn’t control the subsequent sobs that escaped him. Delaware scooped him up to his chest letting his little brother cry his heart out into Delaware’s. 

When the sun would rise a few hours later, their mother would come down to see her first and eleventh eldest son cuddled on the couch. The spiky blond would be past out, while his brother would remain awake still.

“Harsh night?” She asked, sitting on the arm of the couch next to her sons.

“Is that so unusual?”

“I suppose not.” She said, kissing him on the forehead, “You need your rest too.”

“Someone needs to keep the monsters under the bed at bay,” Despite Delaware’s joking tone, his mother could sense the real anxiety behind it.

“You know,” She said, pulling him to his chest, “that that’s what your family is for? You can lean on us; especially me. I am your mother after all, my dearest.”

“I know,” He said as he too drifted off the beating of his mother’s heart.

[nahoney22]

Outcast (part 2/2)

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Ebenezer Scrooge X F!Reader

word count: 4.5k

•gif is mine, please credit if used•

With you never seeming to leave his mind, what happens when his irritable nephew comes by and offers company for a dinner party this Christmas. Will he accept and will he pick you as a date?

Masterlist

Warnings: none, fluff. Scrooge still a little bit of an arse but we love that for him. Quite a heated 😚, not really happy how it turned out ngl I was rushing towards the end. Not proofread.

Part one | Part two

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Never had Scrooge been so perplexed about his own feelings before.

The ounce of kindness he had shown last week was playing on his mind both for the good and bad. Good in the sense that it made him feel positive to do something for another yet, the outcome was not at all what he expected.

As you kissed his cheek, clearly overcome with joy in that moment, Scrooge felt sickened soon after. He let his guard down so quickly, something he had never done before in many years. Though, he did replay the moment you had leaned into him and placed your soft lips to his cheek. It sent waves of butterflies in his stomach whenever he thought about it or glanced in your direction.

He simply refused to let something or someone like that get to him again. He’s adamant about that, so certain never to feel that weakness… until you walked into his office.

“Sir?”

As he was scribbling furiously, just thinking about you and the little peck on his cheek, the point of his quill almost pierced the parchment on his desk as he gazed up at you - heart aflame.

“Y-yes?” He clears his throat, sitting up straight and pushing his messy work to the side. “What is it?”

You enter, closing the door behind you. “There is an issue with one of these logs you filled out last week.” You say, a little nervous as correcting your boss was something you never wanted to do and even felt a little out of turn in doing so.

His eyes narrow and holds out his hand, gesturing for the book to which you hand over. A small shuddering breath escapes him however as the touch of your fingers briefly touches his own but you don’t seem to have noticed. Good.

As he checks everything over, he’s almost horrified to see that indeed, there was a mistake. It was only a minor error, a simple misplacement of a decimal point but that is besides the point. He never made mistakes.

Eyes glancing down at the date, he cringes mentally to see it was the exact date he had succumbed to some good in his life. “Ah,” he tenses, fingers flexing against his desk as he suddenly finds it hard to look up at you, “I see.”

You nod slowly, feeling quite a little tense yourself. You wouldn’t particularly say that Ebenezer went back to his old ways, but he had been fairly distant with you. Perhaps you hugging him and giving a small kiss on the cheek was out of line. Though, you believed he would have addressed it, surely? So for now, you kept quiet just as he had been.

“It has been corrected.” He notes, making the necessary changes to the book before sliding it towards you, finally glancing up in your direction. Had your skin always glowed that certain way? Subconsciously he swallows the saliva that built in his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants under the desk. “Is there… is there anything else I should be aware of?”

You shake your head. “No. That will be all.” Swiping up the book, you turn to leave but stop as an abrupt noise of a chair scraping across the wooden floor caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder, you raise a brow to see Scrooge standing straight, looking at you but his face reads confusion and nervousness. “Is everything the matter?”

“Yes, I uh,” he struggles to find a reason for his sudden burst of bizzare behaviour, “I saw a spider on my desk.”

“Oh,” you begin to walk back towards his desk to deal with the pesky critter but he quickly moves round the front of his desk and holds his hands up.

“That is quite alright. I can deal with it.” His arm extends, a gesture for you to head towards the door and get back to work.

You’re quick to notice his tone seemed different. There was no anger, no snarky comments he just seemed… peculiar. “Well if you insist.” He walks with you to the door, his hand grasping the handle.

“Indeed I do.” He nods firmly but when you smile at him, his knees go weak and he finds himself smiling too. A rare but handsome sight.

You’re both staring at each other, breaths both a little shaky as clearly you both think about the elephant in the room. If you took one step closer to him, you’re bound to be chest to chest and although you find yourself tempted, you know in your mind that it would be foolish. However, you were unaware that he was thinking the same. He could cloud your senses in a matter of moments, he could take you in his arms and tell you that you’re special for making him feel this way. Subtly, his eyes flicker to your lips…He could perhaps kiss you too if you would allow him.

But, before he could open his mouth (if anything was going to be said anyway) the door bursts wide open sending you tumbling onto the ground upon impact.

“UNCLE EBENEZ- oh dear, are you quite alright?”

You’re rubbing the back of your neck as you sit up to see what could have possibly made you fall so much. Vision blurred briefly, you squinted to see two men looking down at you, seemingly worried glances on their faces.

“What do you think you are doing? Barging in here without invitation?” Your boss snaps at the younger gentleman who has now crouched down in front of you, extending his hand to you.

A look of apology plasters the man’s face, once you sit up and get your bearings. “I was just so excited to see you Uncle and to share my exciting news! Now help me first with this pretty creature I clumsily sent flying.”

Scrooge was shooting flames through his eyes at the back of his nephew's head and a wave of jealousy overpowered him just for a brief second. He thought you were pretty? Bah! Only he can express those secret feelings.

Oh, so he knew you were pretty. Dare he say he also thought you were positively enchanting too. He sighs mentally, that simply did not help his case in trying to get this feeble feeling inside him about you to fade.

Both gentlemen take a hold of your arms and in a matter of seconds, you’re hoisted straight onto your feet. One of the men lets you go and you lose your footing just slightly as you didn’t prepare yourself for such a quick helping. Something wraps around your waist and you’re pulled into something tall and slender. Oh yes, your boss.

Eyes widening, you glance up towards Scrooge and are surprised to see how red his face had gotten. You suspected it could be one of three things. One, there’s a window open and a very cold draft has blistered in. Two, the clear anger he had towards this other gentleman or three, the proximity between the two of you. Oddly enough, you wish it to be the third.

Your face cringes a little at your thoughts and you could almost slap the back of your hand for thinking that way about your boss. But dare you admit he had been on your mind an awful lot?

“There! No harm done. Apologies Miss….?” The young man politely asks for your name to which you give it, standing straighter but for some reason, Scrooge’s arm still held you rather close in case you were going to slip if he let go.

“A very beautiful name may I say.” He charmed with a beaming and rather infectious smile. He then looked between the two of you and a curious brow was raised. “Now then Uncle, I was not aware you were courting someone?”

Both of your bodies stiffen and you’re blushing ridiculously. So doing what you think is the right thing, you step out of his grasp and give him a small nod and then turn to his supposed nephew. “N-no it is not like that. I am merely just one of his workers.” You gush quickly, self-consciously straightening out the skirt to your dress.

Harry’s mouth falls into a small ‘o’ shape and then looks to his Uncle again. “Oh that’s a shame as I was wondering if you and my loving Uncle here,” he grins at Scrooge whose face shows nothing but irritance, “would like to come to a Christmas party I am hosting tonight! Well, I say me but it is really Hela.”

“Hela? Who is that?”

“My wife. I suppose you would know that if you had shown up to my wedding last spring.” The tension was a little too thick for your liking. So quietly, you excused yourself and swiftly left Ebenezer’s office.

The pair of them watch you leave and once Scrooge has closed the door behind you, he is already practically growling at his ‘foolish’ nephew.

“She seems nice, Uncle.” He hints a little too playfully for his liking, making the man scoff and move back to his desk and sit back down.

“What is it you want?” He sighed miserably, picking up his quill and getting back to business.

Harry places his hands on the desk, leaning a little down towards his Uncle as if to get his full attention. “I already stated. You, maybe that rather attractive lady you have working for you, my home for a Christmas party tonight!”

Ebenezer pauses for a second and checks a small Callander to his left before returning his gaze back to his work. “Christmas is not for another seven days.”

“It’s an early party! Oh come on, Uncle please? I never see you and Hela is more than thrilled at the thought of you finally making your acquaintance with her.

The older man lets out an obvious heavy sigh and places his quill down. “I think you and I are both aware that my presence is not tolerable, Harry.” He leans back, folds his hands together over his chest and ever so slightly gazes to the window where he saw you. “Besides I also do not think that she will appreciate my company either for the evening.”

There was a doubtful glance on Harry’s face as he looked towards you and then to his Uncle. “I would not be too sure about that…”

Scrooge was quick to pick up on his meaning and merely scoffed once more but it did pique his curiosity. “How so?”

Harry smirks just a tad. “Well, before I interrupted you both I did see the way you were looking at one another.”

He narrows his eyes. “Which is how?”

“You will see.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

He did not how he managed to lure Scrooge into his plan for the evening but he did. And how Scrooge even managed to convince you to come with him was a miracle all by itself.

Alas however, he stood in front of his old and badly cared for mirror as he straightened out his old dresswear and dusted off his shoulders. It was a little looser than he remembered from around twenty years back when he had a more muscular build to him but, he had nothing else. Although critical of others, he’s surprisingly a critical of himself.

He found himself once more, as usual nowadays, scoffing to himself at the thought of trying to impress another but as he grabs his cane and hat, he takes a steady breath and makes way towards your home.

One step, then another and another he feels nerves tingle in his belly as he tries to think of any good conversation starters or anything that isn’t remotely work related too.

Perhaps he could make a comment about the music that will be played. No doubt it will be joyful and full of cheer that already seemed to be giving him a headache before even stepping foot into his nephews home. Or maybe he could compliment her appearance? His eyes widen at the thought, would he even dare? Would it be out of turn for him to do so? As he walked up the cobbled path to your little humble home, he clears his mind, takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

There is some silent cursing from behind the door as you hurried to get your shoes on and wrap a scarf round your neck for the winter season. With everything you needed, you yourself inhaled a deep breath and opened the door to see a pink-cheeked Ebenezer.

“Good evening,” you say softly, steppping out and locking the door behind you before you turn to ace him once more, “you look… very smart, Sir.”

He’s truly blown away by what he sees. Your hair is styled to almost perfection aside from the stray piece of hair that dangled down the side of your cheek. You’re sporting a simple yet elegant looking gown that made you look effortlessly beautiful and there was only a simple slither of makeup on your cheeks. You looked beautiful before in his eyes but now he was a little breath taken.

Your shy yet awkward smile was enough to signal that he had just been stood gawping at you rather than address you so he quickly clears his throat, gives a little stomp of his cane and raises his head. “Thank you ma’am, you too look, uh, quite devine.”

He extends his arm to you, knowing this was probably an okay move to make and his throw was correct once you link your arm though his and make haste.

The walk there is silent, a little awkward at first until Harry’s house came into view. “I was not aware you had a nephew, Sir.”

The topic is a little sensitive for him as it would be for most but your curiosity was not at all one of malice. “I thought I told you that you’re allowed to call me by my name and not Sir.” He replies to you with a pointed expression yet there was flicker of a smile hindering on his face somewhere. “But to answer your question, he is the son of my late sister.”

Your face drops but you do slowly start to remember that there is a picture on hiw desk of him as a young boy with a young girl. There is an ache in your heart and as you begin to apologise he holds up his hand to stop you.

“No need for that. Although I found him barely tolerable, he is still my nephew if that did mean the loss of my sister. Alas, we move forward.” He grumbles the last part. Gods, he really is getting a little soft if he now thinks of Harry as ‘barely tolerbale’ rather than intolerable.

When you both entered Harry’s home, you both had never felt so much like outcasts in your lives. Although your dress was nice it was nothing compared to the gowns that the other ladies were wearing and Scrooge, obviously, stuck out like a sore thumb and folk seemed to avoid him like the plague.

Your coat is removed by one of the servers that Harry must have hired for the evening and even though you protest a little, it was still taken from your shoulders as did your scarf, Scrooge’s hat, coat and cane as well.

“Uncle, Ma’am! How lovely it is to see you both here. Thank you for coming.” Harry yells over the crowd, some odd glances being tossed in your direction. You grow a little self conscious, wrapping your arms around yourself whilst trying to show somewhat dignity. With many prying eyes, looking you up and down the company you’re keeping is not the most favorable. Which is a shame since you did not seem to mind that part.

“This is a lovely… home you have.” Scrooge says through slightly gritted teeth, well out of his comfort zone as he gazed up to the large sparkling chandelier above the pair of you. As expected, the music was terribly cheerful for his taste but from the corner of his eye he sees you humming gently to the music. Maybe the difference in music tastes was enough for him to try and dislike you less which was seemingly starting to feel impossible. Especially when he sees how calm and talkative you are with Hela who comes over.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet the man who likes to hide away from us.” Hela had teased playfully, earning a hearty laugh from her husband and even a small one from you.

Scrooge releases a strained breath, trying to hold in any rude comment he had the desire to make. “Pleasure’s all mine though please, do not get used to it…”

He felt a small nudge to his side and he glanced down at you, a dubious look on his face as you gave him a stern glance. “You have a lovely home.” You beam at Hela, turning your attention back to her. “I’d be glad to come and visit again and I’m sure Ebenezer would too.”

Hela leans into her husband, smiling fondly at the two of you as she swirls the contents in her glass around. “Say, how long have you two been married?”

It was a good job you weren’t drinking tonight because otherwise whatever you had consumed would have been spluttered all over the floor. With a deep inhale of a sharp breath, you felt rather confound. This is the second time this has happened in the space of very few hours and if it were to happen a third, you would feel compelled to say just under a year.

“Not married. She is,” Scrooge clears the thick tension, clearing his throat and holding his chin high, “too good for me.”

Your heart swells a little at his words though there is a small pang of empathy in your mind. Behind the tough exterior, you had definitely seen his soft side and therefore you knew there was good in him. Good enough for you at least.

Before Hela could speak up, seeing the abashed look on your face, the music swells into a more slow-tempered melody. “This song is my favorite.” Harry chimes, taking his wife’s hand in his and leading her to the open floor.

The two of you stand back, watching couple join together in a dance and if you didn’t feel out of place before, you certainly did now.

For some reason, your mouth decides to speak for you before your mind could process. “Do you dance, Ebenezer?”

“Not if I can help it.” He quips without a second thought but when he does think, he looks down to you. “D-do you?”

You don’t meet his gaze, instead smile a little at his stutter. “No.”

As you turn your head, you’re almost breath taken as his eyes bore into your own. They’re intense but not ones that will make you shake in fear - instead - they were ones that caused a bonfire in your heart. “Would you like to go somewhere quieter? The music is a little too loud for me.” You suggest, giving a little white lie in the process.

His heartbeat quickens and although this mind was screaming no, his heart was saying yes. He nods and the two of you quietly leave the room and decide to slip into an unoccupied drawing-room.

When the door closes, you're both alone. The sound of music from the other room does resound off the walls but it was quite nice. Though, you could hear your heartbeat strumming in your ear.

You walk towards the center, hands clasped together at your front as he takes in the architecture. “Your nephew's home really is lovely. He must have done well for himself.”

“Yes, well I would like to imagine that my brother-in-law had sought him in the right direction after mine and my sister's upbringing.” There was a bitterness in his tone, taking a walk round the room and subtly admiring the large pairings and portraits along the walls.

“Life was rough for you?” You question, watching him as he traced a delicate finger along the mantle above the fireplace, expecting dirt but nothing to show.

“Quite. My father was not a kind man and was not a good role model to have.” His shoulders slump slightly as he heads towards one of the many large windows, eyes casting out towards the downward snow. “I had to provide mostly for my sister and mother because although he was a rich man he spent his way into debtor’s prison.” He seethed, closing his eyes tightly as a wave of memories flashed before his eyes.

You watched him and there was a temptation tingling in your fingers to reach out and place a comforting arm to his shoulder but you held back as something didn't seem quite right with you. “Ebenezer, forgive me if I am out of turn to speak this way but you speak ill of your father and his debts. Yet, many people owe you debts.”

Slowly, he turns his head to look at you. As you stand there, twiddling your fingers he understands what you are getting at but was certainly not ready to have his pride shot down by your truthful words. “That is the career path I chose and if people choose to ask for money, I will loan it. If they can not pay me back then I either double it or they themselves can be sent straight to debtors prison too. And owe me debts you say? I like to believe that you are also part of this job are you not? As well as Bob?”

His words were rather high strung, wanting to catch you out as if he should argue with you, as if it would break the mold forming between you two. Though, you raised a brow and gave him an almost disappointed look. “I am merely someone who checks the logs and stacks shelves. I do not communicate with your clients as that is your role. I chose this job as I wanted to do just something no matter how undignified it may seem to others. To do something that was not expected of me.” You speak proud and true, not falling for whatever it was he was trying to insinuate.

“I saw kindness in you Ebenezer. I know deep down you do not want these poor folk we have to end up just like your father did.”

There’s a sting in your words but so painfully true. And that sealed it for him, it was impossible to dislike you. You spoke freely and were not hesitant in your words with him. There was no shying away and the fact you saw the good in him rather than the blackness of his heart meant that he too could believe he was good.

So, he chuckles. A true hearty one at that.

“What is so funny?” You quiz, unsure whether to be offended or not as he approaches you.

When he stops in front of you, he is merely inches away from his chest pressing to yours. “I am amused as to how a lady like you can see so much positivity in someone so cold.” Words just above a whisper, you’re entranced by your boss and you audibly gasped as his hands take hold of your own and he slowly brings them up. “Your hands are rather cold too.”

Jittering breaths, you look down at the hands that held your own and bravely close the gap between you two with just a step closer. “Perhaps you could keep them warm for me?” There’s teasing in your voice and he falters just for a second. His mouth instantly waters and you see his Adam’s apple bop up and down at your proposition.

“I would be g-glad to.” He nods, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and before you know it, your hands are being raised towards his lips and a warm blow of his breath cascades over your knuckles.

His eyes flicker up at you as he does this, seeing your eyelids flutter close as you bask in the warmth of his breath warms your soft hands. Daringly, damned to hell with how inappropriate it was being intimate with his colleague, his lips graze over one knuckle. Then the next. And then the rest.

“S-Sir, what if someone sees us?”

There’s a low chuckle from him that sends vibrations over your body. “I told you not to call me that.”

You hum in slight amusement though you were a little light-headed at the current events. “That did not answer my question.”

“Then,” he pulls his lips away from your last knuckle on your right hand and moves his gaze to the door and then to you, “they will pity you for being seen with a man like me.” For a second there’s a glimmer of sadness in his eyes and so you release one of your hands from his embrace and carefully place it on his cheek.

“Do you know what else is cold?” You say quietly, trying to keep your breath as steady and not unwavered as possible.

“I am unaware. What is?”

In for a shilling, in for a pound.

“My lips.”

His eyes widened at your indirect proposal but your face showed nothing but sincerity. So, he did the thing that he tried so hard not to even think about doing and leans into your touch, arm snaking around your waist until you’re flushed against him. “Is this what you desire? I… I am not a good man.”

With a wry smile you softly nod your head. “Yes, and you are a good man even if you do not see it yet.”

Overcome with the emotion of being wanted, his free hand moves to the back of your head and nestles in your hair as he captures your lips in a somewhat desperate and needy kiss.

You’re almost knocked off your feet as his lips descended on yours, his eyes tightly shut as if he were to open them for it all to be a dream. When you reciprocate, even beginning to move his lips along his, he relaxes.

You could feel your heartbeat speeding up, your other hand placing it to his chest to see if you could feel his; and you can. His head tips, welcoming the feeling of warm and soft lips but he almost faints as your tongue brushes against his lips yet he welcomes the foreign yet exciting new sensation.

Both of your breathing gets a little heavy, fingers tightening on your waist and you gasp as you’re moved back, back pressing to the wall.

Nothing could have expected you for this moment, nothing at all. Although as your tongues probe at one another, swallowing each other’s soft and welcoming moans, you’re completely blown away at how assertive and dominant he became. Especially when one of his hands travels up the bodice of your dress and presses to the side of your neck. His lips leave your now slightly plump ones and you’re shivering in ecstasy as his lips instead caress at your cheek, then your jaw and soon found home on your neck.

Maybe, you both should take this back to his place before you could spoil both of your reputations.

tags for those who wanted a part 2: @8e-h-e8 @simp123321 @jazz-53 @xxsapphire14 @chocotacobread

Masterlist

[miracleonice87]

25&28 w tkachuk (if not taken)

25. spending time with family / 28. “Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?”

quick note: happy birthday, Matthew 💕 decided to use an OC for this one as it fit a little bit better. enjoy!

quick warning: just alcohol I believe. suuuper fluff. 

song pairing, just for fun: It’s Not Christmas ‘Til You Come Home by Norah Jones (for a sad, mopey, brooding Matty)

_____

“Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?” Keith bellowed, nudging Matthew’s arm with the same hand that held his vodka tonic. The matching drink he poured for Matthew still sat in front of his son on the kitchen island, untouched. That’s how Keith knew his son was really struggling.

“I prefer Grinch,” Matthew grumbled, resting his chin on his fist. “And my holiday spirit left with Leighton.”

Taryn clicked her tongue in pity from the barstool next to him and stood to wrap her arms around her brother’s shoulders. “I know you miss her,” she said as she squeezed him tight. “We miss her, too.”

Matthew attempted a smile and patted his sister’s forearm appreciatively. Brady, on the other hand, took less sensitive approach.

“Yeah, plus you’re way more fun when she’s here,” Brady pointed out, pouring himself another drink.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured sarcastically, followed by a lengthy sigh. “I just don’t know why she had to be the one to travel so far for this game. I wish somebody else could have.”

“Because it’s a big bowl game, Matthew,” Keith stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “And we all know she’s the best at what she does. It’s Christmas Day. There’s gonna be a lot of eyeballs watching this afternoon. You should be proud. And understanding. She works in sports and you’re a pro athlete. Of anybody, you should get it.”

Matthew dropped his head back in dramatic fashion. As much as he hated to admit it, his dad was right. He absolutely loved that his girlfriend worked as a sideline reporter for college football — they understood each others’ insane work schedules and had a special bond over their passion for sports of all kinds. He loved listening to Leighton’s reporting because she was a hell of a lot smarter than he was, and also a lot smarter than most other reporters… plus, the fact that she was an complete smokeshow, and all his, was the cherry on top.

But her job stealing her away from him at Christmas just wasn’t fair.

“Speaking of which, her game is starting soon,” Taryn said, glancing at the oven clock. She clapped Matthew’s back and ordered, “Come on, let’s go.” Taryn led the way into the living room as each family member found a seat in front of the TV.

As if Matthew could have ever forgotten, Leighton was working a bowl game in Phoenix. He had initially tried to force his way into joining her on her trip, but she refused to allow him to spend Christmas Day alone in a hotel room or waiting for her somewhere squeezed into the sold out stadium. She insisted on Matthew’s going home to spend the holidays with his family, who barely got to see him at all during the NHL season. Though they’d promised to have their own Christmas when they both returned to Calgary late on Boxing Day, they were both brokenhearted at the prospect of spending their first major holiday apart.

“It just won’t be Christmas without you, Leight,” Matthew sighed as he leaned his forehead against hers during their final goodbye at the airport.

She took a deep breath and tried to hold herself together at his statement, her fingers smoothing the short hair at the nape of his neck. When she looked back into his face, her eyes shone with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Leighton whispered, not trusting her voice to carry her words. Matthew shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the space between her brows. “I’m just gonna miss you is all.” Leighton squeezed his neck tighter, and after one last searing kiss, she pulled back with a sniffle.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” she told him. “Like always.” She reached for the handle of her rolling suitcase beside her and said, “I really have to go.” Matthew nodded.

“Okay. Be safe,” he said quietly, pulling her into his chest once more. “I love you, Leight. Merry Christmas.”

He felt her choke on a sob before she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Matty. I love you so much.”

And with that, she threw him a tight smile with red, watery eyes and forced her feet to carry her inside to the check-in counter, before she gave in and jumped back into Matthew’s car and returned home with him, like every muscle in her body was screaming at her to do.

Though he smiled when Leighton first appeared onscreen, looking even more beautiful than usual, Matthew then immediately replayed the memory of their crushing goodbye a few days prior, and his face fell once more. His mom, seated next to him, took notice, and wrapped her hand around his, smoothing the other over his cheek with a sad smile. He squeezed her fingers and gave a halfhearted smile of his own.

Michigan edged out a win over Florida after an ultra-competitive game, which Matthew couldn’t even enjoy because his heart ached each time Leighton was shown on the sideline. He sighed after each report she gave, and by the end of the game, when it was time for dinner, he had given into the drinks Keith was offering and was now well into the process of drowning his sorrows.

He did his best to contribute to the conversation at the dinner table, but after the plates were cleared and they returned to the living room to play board games and watch Christmas movies, Matthew fell quiet once more. No one called him out for it — they felt the weight of Leighton’s absence, too. She had become an integral part of the Tkachuk family dynamic, and not having her there just felt wrong.

By the time it was nearing midnight, Matthew was lying motionless on the couch, watching Home Alone but not laughing at any of the parts that made him chuckle each time it was on. He was just about to force himself upright to pour one last cocktail for the night when there was a knock at the door.

Everyone fell silent.

Brady and Taryn looked at each other at the same time, and Taryn whispered, “No way…”

Matthew looked to his parents, cuddled together on the couch across the room. Chantal appeared just as surprised as her children did, but Keith’s eyes had a distinct glimmer in them. He gave half a shrug and said from behind his glass, “Well, why don’t you go answer it?”

It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t. Was it? There was no way. Taryn was right. No way.

Halfway through a second knock, Matthew swung open the door to find a certain sports reporter on his doorstep, still dressed in the same ensemble she had worn on the sideline, covered with a pea coat and a Flames beanie.

A breathy chuckle escaped through her smiling lips and rose through the air as a puff of white steam.

“Hi, Matty,” Leighton said simply.

For a moment, Matthew was completely and utterly frozen in place, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. When he blinked and realized that his girlfriend was still standing before him, that she was truly here in St. Louis, he lunged toward her and buried his face in her neck — she would have fallen over for certain if not for how tightly his arms wrapped around her waist.

Leighton felt tears on her barely-exposed skin as she wrapped her own arms around Matthew as best she could. She turned her head to press a kiss to his cheekbone and said softly, “Did you really think I was going to be able to survive spending a whole Christmas without you?”

He laughed in disbelief and admitted, “I almost didn’t. Just ask them.” He nodded toward his family, who were now all huddled in the entryway together. She giggled and smiled brightly at them, the family who had long treated her as one of their own — including the probable future father-in-law who had schemed to get her to them as soon as humanly possible after her game had concluded.

Before she could step inside to greet them, though, Matthew firmly grabbed her face in both his hands and gave her a long, tender kiss — the kind that told her just how much she had been missed.

“I can’t believe you’re here. God, I love you, Leighton,” he whispered, nuzzling her cold nose with his warm one. “You’re all I wanted for Christmas this year.”

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Ducktales but Scoorge has a daughter with Goldie that has lived with him until the Della incident? Headcanons or scenario you pick

The last season of Ducktales awaits to be finished, but I should be able to fulfill this request!

Scrooge and his daughter (Ducktales)

Father/daughter dynamic duo. Goldie didn’t want to be in one place forever, and dangerous portals into hellish dimensions were no place for a baby or little kid. It does mean that Scrooge is very close to his daughter, his little “Spitfire” or “Pebble.”

The two have no sense of caution. At all. Scrooge is aware enough of the consequences to keep his precious Pebble out of lethal danger but give the two a map and they will be charging in with a sword in their hand. Maybe an explosive or two, depending on how they’re feeling that day.

(Name) McDuck is a mapmaker and reader like no other. Give her a map; she’ll find what you’re looking for without fail. She’s the reason that Scrooge hasn’t fallen into accidental pit traps unmarked by older maps.

Part of her obsession with maps is to figure out where anything -or anyone - is. It has been a while since she has seen her mother, but she knows better to assume that Goldie is lost or gone. She’s simply wandering.

She may be Scrooge’s favorite Spitfire but she is also the sense of direction in the trio of chaos that comes from knowing her cousins. Della as the only other female family member is a favorite - a break from just guys - and Donald is…. Donald is a handful but he is loved all the same. Their antics put latter generations to shame with what they got up to.

Her goal, dream really, is to collect and create the ultimate treasure map. Every hidden isle, every stash, every lost city, all in the greatest map an adventurer could ever dream of. She’s been collecting maps since she was a child. And she’s still going.

There’s an old painting hidden away in the attic. A pirate ship is the center, with proud members of the McDuck family on it. In older days Scrooge would boast of it. The time he and his dear niece and nephew had taken on the worst pirates seen in decades. A McDuck classic. It used to rest in the main room, but had long since taken residence in the darker corners of the attic, laying on older paintings.

Strangely, it is only the 2nd painting in the house that Scrooge cannot be brought to see. The painting is hidden directly behind the one with the pirate ship, out of view and out of mind for anyone who might stumble upon the face of Della Duck. All one has to do is move the larger painting out of the way to see what lies beneath.

It’s smaller. Rounder. A portrait. Whereas the pirate ship had been a photo turned into painting, this was a true painted portrait from start to finish. In the back lies a treasure from an island you’d have to ask Scrooge to name on the map, but what stands in front is far more interesting.

A younger Scrooge, cane in hand. He hadn’t quite yet started wearing his glasses yet - no matter how many times they told him to he just refused - but he is happy in the photo. Positively beaming next to the young duck beside him. She’s just as ready for adventure as he, treasure hand in map and smile on her face.

(Name) McDuck smiles in all her glory eternally in that painting.

He’s loath to admit it but he thought Goldie was playing a trick on him when she announced her pregnancy to him. The two had always shared certain complications between them. Love was in there, alongside loathing, like, dislike, respect and spite, but for them it works. Always has. A pregnancy announcement was as likely to be what it was as it was a potential dupe to get him involved in some hair-brained scheme.

There is also the added fact that having a child meant telling his parents they were now grandparents, a fate he’d rather avoid.

But then. There she was. A ball of crying feathers, eyes scrunched tight at the world as he held her close. Fatherhood had never called for him. It meant responsibilities, playing things safe, packing food, worrying about diapers when there’s a whole world to see. Tiny ferocious fists smacked against his beak, helpless but still so full of spark. His heart shattered and mended. This is a McDuck through and through. This child was going to see the world.

Goldie’s departure had been of no surprise. Goldie was an adventurer; though she’d have ties to others, no promise or ring could ever keep her in one place long. Scrooge was a businessman. Adventurer he may be but his work would always lead him to returning to a home of some sorts. Even the most McDuckish baby needed a home to be raised in before seeking out dangers to overcome. With him, (Name) would have stability - enough to grow.

The first time she had snuck aboard was when he knew she was ready. After a long conversation about why she couldn’t be with her father when he went to see the world, Scrooge found her curled behind a crate, scribbled map copied from the book in her hand and a heavy flashlight in her hand (“To shine and to strike where it doesn’t shine!”), and there was no going back.

Her cousins joining simply fueled that mapmaker of a daughter he had. Della and Donald brought out the best and worst of her explorer spirit in her. He’d be just as likely to find the trio in the middle of defeating a labyrinth’s monster as he was to find them balanced on the roof, about to test Della’s latest flying idea. Smiles were always had when the 3 were together, and when there were tears Scrooge would settle the dust between them and get them sorted enough.

They were family. Family stays together, through thick and thin, rough and soft.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

Della wasn’t supposed to find out about the rocket. She wasn’t supposed to go flying it without checking the radar first, or before Scrooge had dashed into the control center after seeing her soar into the skies. The storm wasn’t supposed to happen, the rocket losing control wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen.

Donald had every right to be furious. His nephews might never know their mother all because Scrooge had insisted on building such a dangerous rocket in the first place, on not seeing the consequences his need to be reckless caused. Anger could not make Scrooge ignore these points, even as he bit back with his own barbs.

(Name) had every right to be furious. It was her cousin lost in the stars. But she wasn’t supposed to pull so far away from him. She wasn’t supposed to lose herself in finding Della. She wasn’t supposed to take one of the rockets meant to find Della.

She wasn’t supposed to lose herself too.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Lena Retrospective: The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! or Why Does Lena’s Darkest Hour Have a WACKKKYY Bigfoot Subplot?

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my look back the LIfe and Times of Lena Sabrewing. And we’re almost at the end of season 1. Woo-Ooo!. While i’ll have more season 1 episodes to cover for it’s sister arc, this is the last episode in this arc before the finale.. and i’m happy to repeat that next week will be DUCK WEEK as a result, finsihing up this arc and the Della arcs, as well as dipping into season 2 a bit for Lena’s return to celebrate the finale of this wonderful show. Full disclosure: I didn’t PLAN for it this way, I assumed the show would be ending in April, but sometimes serendipity just works out for you. So pitter pat er, let’s get at er.

 When we last left off Webby went on a wild duck chase for her grandma in England and 87!Webby befriended that version of Magica’s niece and told off a grown woman masquerading as a child because her husband likes being called “Daddy”. When we last left the plot proper though, we learned Lena just wanted to be free, and was willing to do whatever it took, and Magica was getting more abusive and more impatient. And if you thought the end to Jaw$! was pretty sad and dark.... strap in and steel yourself as we take a look at one of the darkest episodes in the series.

The opening sets the stage perfectly as we’re in Scrooge’s Room in the middle of the night, when Lena comes in.. with a knife. 

Naturally she dosen’t have baked goods, but instead is trying to cut the knife from around his neck while Magica won’t shut up while she works and keeps distracting her and BLAMING her for getting distracted. As for the knife it’s glowing and mystic because naturally, Scrooge doesn’t trust just ANY string but a magically woven one to hold his dime. Unlucky for her her girlfriend walks in at the exact moment she’s standing over her idol holding a mystical knife. I don’t think hallmark makes a card for “Sorry I was lying to you for months for my abusive aunt to earn my freedom and then looked like I was about to slit your uncle’s throat. I love you though. “ Yet. 

Scrooge starts to stir so Webby pulls Lena out of there and back to her room... and flashes a lamp on her to interrogate her. Lena is able to bounce back, asking “what were you doing there”. Which NORMALLY wouldn’t last more than two minutes.. but since Webby was there to get Drool samples, maybe she wants to clone him I mean she does know a guy I think the why is something we’d rather not know about, Webby herself was a bit suspcious and Lena uses her starkerish ways to say she’d also gotten into being a Scrooge fangirl. This also allows her to ask about the dime.. but since Scrooge never takes it off, that means they have no access and both Lena and Magica are stuck watching Webby’s long presentation on Scrooge’s life story. I mean personally i’d love to see this in it’s full probably 8 hour glory but I’m not trying to earn my freedom or stuck as a shadow monster. 

It was then when watching the episode this morning.. I was reminded it had a subplot. And the instant I saw Dewey folding Louie’s shirts... I started to piece together it was the bigfoot one. 

As you can tell i’m not a fan of this subplot. It has a good core idea, riffing on “kid takes home sasquatch films” like Cry Wilderness, Big and Harry and of course the one that started it all, Harry and the Hendersons. 

It’s just bogged down by one really obnoxious trait that trips it up and is in the wrong episode entirely. We’ll get to that first scene and the plot as a whole in a moment we just need the setup in the a-story first: Scrooge privately conferring with Beakly, which Magica snoops on. While Lena didn’t get far at all in cutting the rope of his dime, she still left a knick and the fact someone got into his house, let alone his bedroom and got THAT far, means SOMETHING bad is afoot. So while he looks for it he’s putting the dime in the Other Bin for safekeeping. We’ll find out what that is in moment. For now 

Let’s Get This Stupid Sasquatch Plot Over With

We open with Louie having conned Dewey into folding his stuff for the “world laundry folding record”. I mean.. it’s greasy but I gotta respect game here. And it’s not actively harming anyone. Though we do find out from an irate Huey he’s done far worse, if in a hilarious way with Louie’s Kids, his obviously fake charity he uses to get money out of Donald. And so far into it, as Huey hid something he had in the closet and offered to Fix Louie’s stretched out hoodie, the reason he was mad at Dewey, I didn’t get why I hated it before. I wondered why I was so annoyed. Same when Huey while carrying Louie’s hoodies hears his uncle looking for something in the mansion. 

Turns out he’s got a bigfoot hiding in their closet, that he found injured int he woods and brought back and all that good kid finding a mythical creature stuff. Dewey of course loves him on first sight and both want to keep him. But unlike most of these sorts of things where the creature’s damage to the room and what not is played off or the sibling doesn’t know, Louie does see it and isn’t happy about it and only agrees to hide the furry bastard because his brothers blackmail him with his schemes, and refuse to feel sorry for him as the creatures antics continue, including drinking Louie’s special pep and eating his snacks. 

And this is where one of the plots two major issues crops up: The way Dewey and Huey act. Both just ignore any damage wooly foot does, any discomfort to Louie and any obvious downsides of this. Now Dewey being clinginly attached to a majestic creature he found and wanting to keep it? Fits perfectly, and him being mean to louie fits because louie tricked him. Huey however.. is horribly out of character, as while I could see him being charmed at first and not wanting his uncle to hunt his new friend.. he’s not an impractical boy. He’d of tried to get his new friend to the woods first thing because it’s where he’s safest from scrooge and his foot has healed. He’s also a Woodchuck and I can’t imagine the JWG says it’s okay to keep a wild animal person as a pet basically. None of it fits him and makes him into a moron for an episode solely for the plot to work. This still could’ve worked but just have Huey and Louie BOTH get suspicious, Huey later, and find out Tenderfoot is actually Gavin, whose sapient, has a phone and simply is taking advantage of them. it would’ve gone the same way: if they told Dewey , Gavin would kill them, as he threatened to do if louie told his brothers. The Gavin part though is brilliant and a really nice twist I didn’t see coming when I first saw this.  

And it would’ve made the already great climax more interesting as Huey would’ve been forced to use the methods of Louie’s he’d derided to beat a far worse scammer. Instead it’s just Louie but he doesn’t take Gavin’s threats lying down.. and comes up with a clever way to use his scam against him. He shaves Gavin, hides the razor then claims to his brother that not being in the woods means he’s dying or some such thing. So our two idiots and our hero drag them out and while they run into scrooge, Louie still saves the idiots life by manipulating him with a schmaltzy speech and they let him go despite his best attempts to stay, with Louie getting a nice “I win in there”. Overall a bit of a mess with some good ideas, but Huey suddenly taking dum dum juice really drags it down.

So in any other episode this would’ve been fine whatever just mildly obnoxious. What makes it really,  unintentionally obnoxious.. is it’s in the middle of a tense, dark, horror story that dives into the depths of Lena’s soul and ends on a really horrifying note. Case in point Louie shaves a bigfoot and gets his victory over his nemesis.. after an utterly spellbindingly horrific nightmare by Lena, easily the most terrifying moment in the entire show. Followed up with a shaved bigfoot. 

Now I could buy Disney simply forced them to do this to keep things light... except Frank’s been pretty upfront about the production process, how Disney has treated him, what they’ve said no on. So if it had been something they were forced to do, he would’ve said it. No this is just not reading the room and not thinking things through and an otherwise stellar episode suffers for it.They could’ve waited till season 2 for it, they didn’t, and this was the result. It dosen’t ruin the rest of the episode it’s too good for it, but damn if it dosen’t create mood whiplash so severe I need a neckbrace. 

The Good Part

So back at the plot anyone actually cares about, we found out what the “other bin” is when Lena asks Webby: While the Money bin is for well, money and precious keepsakes, the other bin is the stuff too dangerous to keep out in the world. And this is the guy who kept a mystical gold eating dragon, a pirate ghost, and a medusa gauntlet in his garage, and we’ll learn after this ep also keeps a giant golden aztec golem in there. NONE of that was deemed dangerous enough to put in the other bin. So Webby is understandably hesitant.. and it gets a bit unsettling when Lena manipulates her into it. While she has in the past.. she usually just nudged Webby into something she’d do anyway at worst, or showed her an r-rated movie or something harmless. While she did use her as an in she clearly cares.. so it shows how horrifically desperate she’s got she’s willing to pressure her into going into Scrooge’s most dangerous and secure location, pointing out this may be her only chance to see the Dime. 

So she reluctantly agrees, and the two head into the garage. Turns out Scrooge keeps all his junk here for more reason than just shoving it wherever it’d go, as the entrance to the other bin is hidden here. The statue that gave Manny his head is actually a clue towards the painting hiding the second bin, which itself requires one of those things used to hold up ropes and such like you’d see at a movie theater... god I miss movie theaters.. I mean watching stuff in the comfort of home is very nice, but it was nice getting out, making a day of it. I mean their around, but I really don’t want to go till one till more vaccinations have happened and it’s a lot safer to go. Wait what were we talking about? Oh right gay ducks going into a horrifying nightmare vault. But yeah the theater thingy is the key, it unlocks the entrance and our heroines head inside. 

In contrast to the modern, buisnessy welcoming bin, the other bin is basically one giant vault/prison, with everything in it securely locked inside identical doored rooms. It’s genius as it is simple: Only 6 people have likely ever had access to this place: Scrooge, Beakly, Gyro, Duckworth and MAYBE the twins. Even Della and Donald being allowed down here is an unknown. The non-scrooge people are only because someone besides him needs to maintain it, keep any creatures fed, that sort of thing and he’d only trust his butler and his housekeeper, who are also both extraordinarily badass, to do so. Gyro is because someone needed to design the cells. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Quackfaster was a 7th since season 3 casts her as Scrooge’s magic expert and he’d likely need specific runes for specific cells. He’d want as few people down here as possible, and even fewer knowing. I’m sure Bradford knew, and i’m also certain it’s the one thing he never quibbled about the expense as while he hates what Scrooge stands for and tried to curb his “chaos” as much as possible.. this is doing exactly what Bradford likes: locking it away where it can’t hurt anybody. Plus quibbling about it might make Scrooge want to show it off to him and that’s.. that's’ a whole lotta nope in a 2 pound bag. 

So for once Webby is very hesitant and very cautious, though naturally Magica points out a door.. and Lena stupidly follows her advice as she knows her “aunt” is impulsive and has no regards for her safety. What did she think was going to happen? They instead find a unicorn.. or rather it’s angry murderous cousin the Sword Horse, which naturally tries goring them. I’d go with Spear Horse, but semantics. Point is Webby is soon tackled by the thing and Magica just wants to let her die. As seen before the tension between Magica and Lena has hit a breaking point: Magica is fed up with Lena’s clear feelings for webby and caring more about her than the mission.. while Lena is fed up with Magica not listening to her, respecting her as sentient being and dismissing her out of hand instead of listening to her often very valid criticism. So Lena naturally ignores her and throws her the knife, which Webby uses to get the Sword Horse back in it’s pen. And then wonders why her girlfriend has  glowing painstakingly crafted magic knife. Whoops. Webby also wants to leave but Lena convinces her to keep going. but it’s also very clear that Webby’s getting more and more reluctant and i’ts very hard to watch. You can’t blame Lena for wanting to be free of Magica: she dosen’t see her as a person, and dosen’t value her life. But it’s still hard to watc her have to manipulate the only person that loves her and do so so.. effectively. It’s easy to imagine Lena’s done this dozens of times to other people.. but not to someone she actually CARES about. 

Webby DOES figure out how the rooms work though: each one is labeled by the year Scrooge caught it. So she assumes one room she fine is the dime.. and Lena of course runs in and slams the door shut... they’ve found it. So we then get to the most terrifying moment of the series. With victory in her grasp magica roars for Lena to claim the dime, filling the room and Lena with shadow with Lena seemingly disolving.. until Magica is restored or at least partially, still a shadow. Magica has just one thing for her.. and Lena’s reactoin is terrified.. and says oh so much in just one expression it’s VERY clear Lena fears she’s about to die... if she’s lucky. Magica’s been so verbally abusive, tearing her down constantly, manipulating her constantly.. why WOULD Lena expect anything good? Why would she expect anything other than pain or death? So a hug is a surprise.. as is Webby who assumes she’s being attacked... and is clearly heartbroken that’s not the case and runs for Scrooge when Magica admits the truth... only for Magica to seemingly kill her, turning her into a doll resembling the original Webby

Yeah at this point it’s obvious something’s up.. but before we can get to the natural reveal at the end of this horror show, Lena demands Magica change her back... only for a fight to naturally ensue with Magica rubbing the way Lena’s treated Webby in her face: How she manipualted her, lied to her and used her. Even if it was for more noble reasons.. she never told her any of this or tried to and is now directly responsible for her death. She’s a monster.. and then Lena’s amulet activates.. and seemingly finishes the job. 

Then Lena wakes up. This was simply one of SCrooge’s artifact, one Webby mentioned earlier off hand and Webby rescues her. It was all a nightmare.. easy to see given Webby was seemingly killed or turned into a doll at points.. but besides making Lena realize how while not as bad as her aunt, she ahsn’t been great.. it also gives us a painful look into her head and how she sees both Magica and Webby. With Magica.. it’s again VERY clear Magica verbally abuses her, depersons her and is in general a horrifiingly relastic depection of a domestic abuser. But it’s also telling Magica hugs her... while Lena didn’t expect it, this is all her subconcious mixed with a magical cursed artifact, it’s clear that deep down one of the things she wants most.. is for Magica to LOVE HER. 

That is just... it hurts so much.  She just wants a Mom.. and even then her subconcious can’t give her THAT because it knows the truth. Granted the nightmare thing might of had something to do with it, but still, the fact is deep down she knows Magica dosen’t care about her but she WANTS her to. As with Webby, she fears Magica is right, that all her gaslighting has had an effect and Webby would run away the second she found out. When as we’ll learn.. that’s not true at all. She’s deeply hurt... but she still belivies in her. But Lena can’t even see that. She’s been beaten down so much by someone constnatly telling her no one will ever love her she belivies it herself and all her mind and the dreamcatcher can do is pummel her over and over again with what she feels about herself, what she’s KNOWN about how she treats webby even if she had no way out otherwise, how wrong it’s felt. Just holy shit it’s a lot to take in. 

But all this trauma has made Lena realize she truly does love Webby and this isn’t worth it.. she’ll find some other way out or figure out something, for now their leaving. She’s not dying for this.. not for her. They happen to run into Scrooge who, due to the WACKY BIGFOOT SUBPLOT THAT HAPPENED RIGHT AFTER THE ABOVE SCENE, no I will not let that go even going back to Frank’s twitter asks he outright said it was their darkest plot paired with one of their most insane, he knew what he was doing. Turns out cleverly he kept the Dime in vault one. As he puts it “They never think to check the first one”. Smart. He also keeps his worry room down here. Just a note I wanted to mention. 

He does chide them, and Lena takes the full fall.. but suprisingly he dosen’t ban her from his home or anything, he just asks they be honest and would’ve gladly showed the dime off to them both if they’d just asked. Once Scrooge and Webby walk off far enough Magica berates her again..but Lena is done. She’s realized from her own horrifying nightmares that NO amount of freedom is worth what Magica will get out of this, that her own soul isn’t worth the death of the one person she cares about: Webby will fight her and she might not make it. She loves her more than she fears Magica. And even if it means loosing Webby.. she knows who can stop him. Unfortunately.. this is not a happy ending as Magica simply takes full control. And now has Scrooge’s full trust. 

Final Thoughts: This episode is one half a masterpiece. The parts with Lena are to this day, as we approach the very last episode, some of the show’s finest writing and Lena’s nightmare is easily the darkest scene in the series, and only not the most gutwrenching.. because we’re getting to that next week. It finishes the first leg of her character arc, with her selfishness all gone, and the only thing she wants is Webby’s hapiness. Granted that leads to a whole nother character arc over her season 2 episodes, but we’ll get there. Point is she’s realized her manipulations are wrong and not worth the cost, and that she’ll never get anything good out of Magica. Freedom.. will take just a bit longer. It’s eerie to watch, uncomfortable as Lena sinks to her lowest point before climbing out of it, and with a very tense atmosphere the whole time, the bin having a smothering uncomfortableness as we know there’s tons of horrible things here.. but we don’t know what. 

So on it’s own it’d be one of the series best episodes, and the plot itself is still one fo the series best.. but it’s weighed down by one of the series worst plots. Still tame compared to a lto of other series worst moments but being paired with something so dark and excellent really shows how fucking stupid this plot was and made it that much more grating. It just clashes badly. Thankfully the crew did learn from this fiasco to the point we got one of the series best episodes “Escape from the Impossibin!”. That one seemingly has two light enough plots, Scrooge, Louie and Della escaping from the bin and Webby stalking the boys, but in a comedic ic still messed up fashion.. but both take a sharp left at just the right time as to not clash: the full implications of what Webby’s doing and her physical fight with Bentina happen around the same time Scrooge breaks down and confesses he’s scared he can’t win this time. The episode gets really dark in the second half but it eases into it and slowly makes it’s way to it, building to it with some laughts to disarm it. But stuff like robo scrooge or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the oh thank god i’ts broken. That stuff isn’t SO wacky or out of place that it detracts from the other plot. They compliment each other. Here it’s just two plots that don’t work together at all joined together for some reason.  So yeah overall a very mixed bag of an episode and if you do want to watch or rewatch it.. just skip the bigfoot subplot> it’s not worth it. 

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: It’s all come down to this. Magica finally ges what she wants. The Shadow War is Night.. but before I can tell you that story we have a bit of ground to cover so..

Next on this Blog: The family minus Beakly ends up in Greece. Dewey is forced to deal with his fears about his mom, Scrooge is forced to deal with his old rival Zeus, and Donald is forced to deal with an unwanted admirerer. Spanikopita!

If you liked this review, follow for more, feel free to contribute to my patreon, and feel free to commission a review of your own. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[kookies2000]

My thoughts on the final. 8 out of 10 for me and here's why.

Positives first.

The villains. I love Bradford as a villain and his plan really was flawless. To me, Bradford is the scariest type of villain there is. Scrooge trusted this man for almost his whole life. Trusted him enough to be in charge of his money, and secrets. Only to get betrayed at the end. This is an actual thing that happens in real life. People we love, people we know for our whole lives, could just suddenly become horrible people and our love and trust in them breaks. And it hurts like crazy. And that's Bradford right there. He was close to Scrooge and betrayed him. Now the fact that Bradford never saw himself as the villian adds more to why these types of people are horrible. They blame others for their misfortune or for their bad traits. Like how Bradford told the family to look what they made him into after he grew into a monster. He's trying to put the blame on others instead of acknowledging that he's doing this to himself. Like at least the other villains like Glomp Gold and Magica know their villains. They're self aware unlike Bradford. Bradford doesn't like the thought of being a villain so he blames those that see him as the villain. Like dude! You imprisoned Gandra for indefinitely, trapped Ludwig Von Drake who just wanted to talk things out with you, imprisoned innocent people like Panchito and Jose. Why those two? Just because they were tricked into performing a concert at The Feast of the Flower? He straight up murdered his agents, and threw Donald in too. Not to mention he played a part in tearing the family apart once. And he keeps justifying it by saying "I'm not a villain". Which makes it worse! You can't just say you're not a villain or that others are trying to make you look like the villain. If you're not the villain then there's no need to say it. So yeah, I enjoy Bradford as a villain because he's the most realistic of the three main villains we had. Someone who has some good points but executes them poorly.

I also enjoyed the other villains like Phantom Bot and Pepper. I ship these two so much. 💖. Pepper being her talkative self and speaking her mind while Blot is being the strong silent type. My favorite line is also from Pepper "Look Blot! He's a full grown man with the strength of a baby!" I LOVE YOU PEPPER!!! And Blot being his aggressive self is enough for me. And thank you Lena for setting Gene free! Rockerduck being his spoiled self was also a treat. Having his servant fight for him and ordering a drink while he fought. 😂 Don Karnage was his lovable singing self, also he is dead now right? No way he survived that plane crash. Congratulations Dewey, you murdered a man while singing just like I always knew you would. Heron was also great. There's no doubt in my mind that she had some kind of attraction to Bradford after that "Oh Bradford, how villainous 😏" before dying. There's just something hilarious about Heron gracefully accepting betrayal and death like that. 😂 Steelbeaks was great. Finally using that smart ray on himself and still being the imbecile he is! Glomp Gold, Magica and the Beagles special appearance was also a treat.

Ok so our heros! I have to talk about Drake, Fenton and Launchpad! I love Drake for his balance of goofiness and heroicness. He's clearly a man who wants what's best for everyone and loves to be in the spotlight as well. Not to mention just how much fun it is to watch him being all goofy. He may have a child-like side and loves being the goofy hero he is, but he has his serious moments. Showing that just because you have a child-like personality doesn't mean you're not mature enough to handle serious situations. Just the way Drake comforted Fenton by telling him he isn't alone on this, to let others help him warms my heart. He knows Fenton so well and grew a personal connection with him. To the point where he refuses to believe Fenton is Gizmoduck. 😂 Poor guy is in denial. I feel bad for him because he's always in GizmoDucks shadow, which is why I screamed so loud when he and GizmoDuck shared the spotlight in the beginning of the fight with Steelbeaks. Great moment! And Fenton! I adore him and I love him so much more after this episode too! He was always the man with a heart of gold and always put others first. And they added even more to his character by making him such a romantic towards Gandra. I'm 100% sure she was on his mind throughout this whole adventure. Just the fact that he says it out loud that he wants to rescue her and his first reaction when they landed at the Lost Library was to rescue the prisoners was adorable. We all know he wanted to go save the prisoner's to find Gandra. Yeah I know he also cares for everyone else just as much but Gandra will always hold a special place in his heart. And then we have the moment with the two in the end credits. Just pure adorableness! Falling together, Fenton becoming GizmoDuck and catching her like he always does!!! Ah I can't help it! These two are cute!!! I also like how Fenton never did get to rescue her but it was Huey and the others that did and then she helped on rescuing the others. Breaks that whole damsel in distress cliche. I'm so sorry Fenton that you didn't get your shining armor moment, maybe next time? Then we have Launchpad. That guy finally had his shining moment. He was so insecure about not being a superhero that he couldn't see he was the one that inspired Fenton and Drake to become heros. That moment was so sweet and the fact that Launchpadpad became Gizmoduck was what made it perfect. And I loved how he crashed the suit too. 😂 and even the Gizmo Suit has an attitude "Eh, close enough."

Then we have the kids. Each one had their moment and I loved it. Violet was under used I'll admit, just wish they used her more. Like her woodchuck knowledge or her book smarts to find their way out of a maze, open a certain door to another room or help Lena out. Lena had her moment as well, making the airplane invisible showing just how powerful she has become. And let's consider that she nearly got killed by Phantom Blot in the first battle but this time she was able to battle him much better. Friendship really is her magic. Boyd is my favorite! I just love how him being just a head didn't even bother him one bit. Instead, Lil Bulb just uses his body to create a bobblehead Boyd. Let's not forget that "Take care of your brother." line. That one line made my heart sing. Louie was very realistic, "That is not at all comforting. I do not want to die." and he was also the same sharp boy we all know and love. I love the scene where he's pep talking Dewey into winning the battle against Don Karnage. And then we have Dewey flying the Sun Chaser by himself, fully embracing his talent. I'll talk about Huey and Webby later. Scrooge, Donald and Della also had their moment to shine as the original three! Loved it so much, just watching these three fight one last battle together was enough to almost make me cry. Beakly also had her moments like getting the chance to tell Webby the truth, even though it was a trick. I love how she wanted to make sure everyone was safe and went to fight F.O.W.L on her own only to learn her lesson near the end. The lesson that she can't keep secrets forever and she has to have trust in her family in order to win. And sure enough this lesson came from her oldest friend Scrooge Mcduck.

The humor was also the best! I loved the fact that Manny is actually some world ending monster and what does he have to say? "People change man! I just want to live a normal life!" 😆 I never expected Manny to talk let alone his voice sounding like that. And then we have the Gargoyles reference "I live again!..... Again!" Loved that, gold right there. Then we have Von Drake who admits that he isn't dead all because he doesn't have time to die! Oh if only life were that easy! Gyro was comedy gold as well with his line "When they do something right, they're heros! When things get too hard, we're children!" 😂 Love you Gyro!

Ok so one thing I have an issue with. You all know what it is so I'll make it as short as possible. Webbys backstory. I didn't like it. I have no issue with her being a clone and that Beakly found her, but Scrooge's daughter? It was unnecessary and here's why. Scrooge was already her father. He took care of her as his own, protected her, kept het happy, and was a wonderful role model to her. She was already his official none blood daughter. Making her Scrooge's blood related daughter does nothing to improve her character. If they wanted her as a clone, they could've done something else. Like maybe she could've been the clone of a well known F.O.W.L agent that died or disappeared. So F.O W.L tried to clone that agent by creating Webby. Nothing would need to change either, Beakly could've still found her, took her in and kept her safe with Scrooge. Webby would still have an identity crisis thinking she's the clone of a F.O.W.L agent and is destined to be a F.O.W.L agent. If they wanted to add June and May in, then use that same reason. Cloning F.O.W.L agents and raising them to be the evil like them. Or what about this? Use Beakley's story about her daughter. How Beakley wasn't there for her as much as she wanted to and maybe one day F.O.W.L talked Beakley's daughter into joining them. Making Beakley regret not being there for her daughter more. When her daughter tries to leave F.O.W.L she disappears all of a sudden. But then Beakly finds a baby clone of her daughter (Webby) and she takes this as a second chance to raise her daughter again. I'm just saying, anything would've been a better back story for Webby other than being Scrooge's clone. And as for Huey, he should've been the one to find the papyrus. Branford had him in his grasp. He had managed to manipulate Huey into helping him, so why not have him grab the papyrus. He is a direct descendent of Scrooge so why complicate things by having Huey talk to Webby? They weren't even sure if the papyrus was going to show itself to Webby!!! HUEY WAS RIGHT THERE BRADFORD!!!! It was so easy!!! Kidnap Huey, manipulate him into helping, then lock him up with Gyro, Drake and Gandra!!! I'm not saying I didn't enjoy Huey and Webby here, I did. Huey using his woodchuck knowledge allowing his brothers to find him and Webby using the skills her granny showed her made me proud. I love seeing these two using the skills they learned while living in the mansion.

Other than that, the final was great and I loved it. I just wish Webbys background was different and more unique than being Scrooge's daughter. Oh! And the end credits were wonderful! I love how the poster was basically a foreshadow of it!

 8/10 I loved the finale!

[wondereads]

Personal Recommendation (2/14/20)

The Sisters Grimm by Michael Buckley

I’m doing something new this week! I’ll be reviewing every book in The Sisters Grimm series. Each will get a small paragraph and get a rating out of ten, and then I’ll rate the series overall. Hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind this will contain spoilers for the later books, so don’t read ahead if you don’t want some major spoilers!

#1: The Fairy-Tale Detectives     9/10

The very beginning! Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, after a year in foster care with some dubious caretakers, are being sent to live with their grandmother, who, until a few days ago, they didn’t know existed. Granny Relda lives in Ferryport Landing, a typical small town in almost all aspects except for the significant population of fairytale characters or Everafters. The first book serves as a good introduction to Buckley’s world. The sisters have been shielded from fairytales their entire lives, so it’s easy to insert explanations for the inexperienced reader. It also very quickly sets up Sabrina and Daphne’s characters by using their reaction to Granny Relda and her fairytale reveal. Daphne, being a younger, more sheltered child, accepts it wholeheartedly and is excited to get involved in solving magical mysteries. Sabrina, after protecting her sister from nutcases for a year, has a much more cynical outlook, and it takes an actual giant scooping Relda up for her to believe. There’s also some memorable introductions for other important characters such as Mr. Canis, Puck, Mirror, and Mayor Charming. In terms of the plot, Buckley consistently creates mysteries that have twists but aren’t too difficult to follow for late elementary students.

#2: The Unusual Suspects     7/10

Things are starting to get a little more intense. Sabrina and Daphne are required to go to school after being preoccupied with chasing giants around the countryside. Unfortunately, especially for Sabrina, who wants to regain some semblance of normalcy, something is killing the teachers at school. I forgot how gruesome the murders were. I also forgot that Sabrina is in sixth grade. This particular book always got on my nerves. Sabrina is clearly having some issues; her parents are missing, she’s trapped in a town with fairytale characters, she can’t see to escape humiliation either at the hands of Puck or her classmates, and now people are being killed left and right. And yet, her family refuses to see that she needs help and decides to reprimand her constantly instead. The villain for this book is particularly disturbing. I must warn readers-child manipulation and abuse is a common theme in these books. If you couldn’t already catch on in the first book, it becomes obvious here that Sabrina has some grudges against the magical community.

#3: The Problem Child     7/10

This book has a sort of in-between feeling to me. Sabrina comes upon a maniacal little girl dressed in red who is holding her currently enchanted parents captive. The little girl, obsessed with recreating her family, is convinced they are her own parents and controls a jabberwocky, her ‘kitty’. All she needs is a granny and a doggy-Granny Relda and Mr. Canis. Everything in this book pours into the next ones, while, unlike the other books, there isn’t much of a self-contained plot. Red comes more into play in Tales from the Hood and The Everafter War, the election sets up Magic and Other Misdemeanors, and the vorpal blade and Puck’s injury lead into Once Upon a Crime. This book, however, introduces Uncle Jake, one of the most interesting characters in terms of development, and it also begins the problem of Sabrina’s magic addiction. The events of this book contribute to Sabrina’s distrust of magic after she has some run-ins with her addiction. It is also when you maybe start to develop some affection for Charming, despite his over-inflated ego.

#4: Once Upon a Crime     10/10

This one is my personal favorite. After Puck’s run-in with the jabberwocky, the Grimms take an emergency trip to New York, Sabrina and Daphne’s old home. There they plead the king of Faerie, Oberon, to heal Puck. Unfortunately, Oberon is poisoned within hours of their arrival, and Relda, of course, takes the case. This book is so much fun because in Ferryport Landing they just sprinkle the whole town in forgetful dust. In New York, Everafters need real jobs and a way to cover their tracks as beings who don’t age. The Wizard of Oz works at Macy’s, Ebenezer Scrooge makes a living as a medium, and pirates such as Long John Silver feed off of Wall Street. It also addresses the downsides of that. Everafters don’t age; some of them don’t even look human. It comes as a shock to Sabrina, but her mother, Veronica Grimm, was secretly working with the New York Everafters to fix their problems. I feel that Sabrina finding a connection to her mother through the Everafter community is the first step she takes toward accepting her role as a Grimm.

#5: Magic and Other Misdemeanors     8/10

The conflict between humans and Everafters starts to take center stage. Someone in Ferryport Landing is stealing powerful magical artifacts, causing rips in time, but the Grimms have to split their attention with Mayor Heart’s new tyrannical rule. This is where the series begins to take a darker turn. The new mayor, the Queen of Hearts, and Sheriff Nottingham are set on running every human in Ferryport Landing out of town, and the divides between human and Everafter are becoming more pronounced by the day. The rips in time are particularly interesting, especially Sabrina and Daphne’s trip to the future, which really raises the stakes going forward. Also, the idea of a past Grimm arriving in town, giving Heart and Nottingham a chance to end the entire family, is very nervewracking. Also, the concept of Everafter-human relationships and how that would work presents some interesting conflicts.

#6: Tales from the Hood     10/10

There’s nothing I love more than a fractured fairytale. Intent on getting rid of the Grimms’ staunch protector, Heart and Nottingham put Mr. Canis, or the Big Bad Wolf, on trial. Some investigation in order to clear his name reveals that the story of Little Red Riding Hood might not be all true. Technically, the entire series is based on fairytales, but this is the first book where those stories are actually challenged. The actual story of Little Red Riding Hood is amazing, and it also ties into all the other stories the Wolf is present in. Also, I love Red, the sane Red, and I always get so happy when she’s cured. Once again, Sabrina clashes strongly with her family in this one, for understandable reasons. I’m less inclined to side with her on this one, but she definitely learns her lesson.

#7: The Everafter War     8/10

The Grimms are finally united! Henry and Veronica Grimm are woken up from their magical sleep, but Henry, having too many bad memories, wants to leave town immediately. Unfortunately, the Scarlet Hand has taken over all of Ferryport Landing and only a small resistance stands in their way. There’s a lot of family drama in this one. The dynamics of Sabrina, Daphne, and their parents are all out of whack after spending over a year apart. On one hand, they now have parental support again. On the other, Henry can’t seem to conceptualize that Daphne is, in fact, not five anymore. If that isn’t enough drama for you, Puck finds out he and Sabrina are married in the future, and Snow and Charming are caught up in a soap opera of their own. Also, not to mention the plethora of betrayals in this book. The plot is really picking up here.

#8: The Inside Story     8/10

This one took quite some imagination. After the reveal of the Master’s identity as their own beloved Mirror, Sabrina, Daphne, and Puck pursue him and Pinocchio through the Book of Everafter, a living book filled with fairytales that could actually change history. I find it absolutely hilarious that the kids absolutely refuse to follow the story no matter what. Also, this is where Sabrina starts coming into her own. She’s going through a rough patch in this book. As would anyone whose best friend turned out to be the leader of a magical terrorist organization. By the way, if you are connected to these characters in any way, Mirror’s betrayal will hit you like a punch to the gut. She’s having trouble trusting her judgement, which will have her come back stronger than ever. Also, it’s nice to see her and Puck get through a couple sentences without a barrage of insults. Finally, Relda was such a badass in this book. If you didn’t love her before, you definitely love her now.

#9: The Council of Mirrors     9/10

It’s time for a happily ever after. With Mirror running loose in Ferryport Landing and the rebellion in tatters, things are looking bleak. Especially when the twenty-four remaining magic mirrors issue a prophecy putting everyone’s fate in the hands of Sabrina and Daphne Grimm. Sabrina starts out pretty broken in this book. She’s been betrayed, her grandmother is possessed by an evil mirror, and now everyone is expecting her to lead an army. I absolutely love that when she gets the push she needs from the mirrors it plays to her strengths. She’s a master of planning and subterfuge, and it’s so nice to see it come out. On a less chipper note, I hate Atticus with everything in me, and I was so happy he ended the way he did. In terms of Mirror, I found it poetic, but also so typical of a kid’s book, that he was defeated by the one thing he never had: love. Finally, the reason this book doesn’t get a 10/10 is because I felt the epilogues were kind of rushed and unrealistic. However, they don’t have much impact on the book overall, and I still loved most of it!

Overall 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

The Sisters Grimm is one of my favorite series from childhood. The characters are realistic, relatable, and get great development. Kids books are great because there’s no worries about the idea being too juvenile. This book could never be an adult book, the ideas in it are too silly. However, that doesn’t mean it isn’t amazing, and I find the crazy ideas and cheesy lessons absolutely charming. It gives some unexpected sides to some well-known characters, and the amount of thought that went into incorporating classic and even more obscure characters into the modern world was crazy and very amusing at times. I also suspect that this series is the root of my fondness for fractured fairytales. I would recommend this book to people who like modern fantasy, sibling relationships, and fairytale characters in a decidedly un-mystical setting.

The Author

Michael Buckley: American, 51 years old, also wrote N.E.R.D.S. and Undertow

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

[ramblingguy54]

Escape From The Impossibin!: An Exercise Of Trust & Hope.

So, I was predicting for this episode to have Della & Louie bonding time together, which there were cool moments with them to be sure. However, what I really liked about today’s story was how it focused on the aftermath of FOWL’s reveal to still be very much alive to Scrooge’s horror and Beakly’s greatly underlying concern. A couple of days ago before Impossibin premiered today, I chatted with some others on Discord about what this episode’s story would explore for its overall message, which the more I thought about, the more I leaned on the idea it would be centered around the notion of trust. Let’s Get Dangerous had a consistent theme of deceitful liars being revealed who weren’t whom they appeared to be, as seen with Taurus Bulba vs Drake Mallard & Bradford’s true nature being known to Scrooge at that hour special’s ending. 

Escape From The Impossibin is all about confronting the growing tension that’s become a threat to a content family lineage of adventurers, who now have to defend everything they stand for in their legacy, once again. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about DuckTales is even when it doesn’t entirely match my predictions, it finds other new ways to surprise me for what it can do. Della & Louie didn’t necessarily get the bonding time I had hoped for, which did admittedly disappoint me, but they did a serve a purpose in their own right that I’ll get to later. Anyways, the spotlight is on the older mentor figures, Scrooge McDuck and Bentina Beakly, who are all too familiar in dealing with FOWL’s antagonism before in Season 1′s episode, The Confidential Case Files Of Agent 22, that especially applies to Beakly’s past in fighting them as an agent of SHUSH for very much longer compared to Scrooge. With how much is at stake you’d very much expect there to be old feelings being drudged up, regarding Scrooge’s trust and respect for Bradford, as well as Beakly’s strict over protective nature with Webby to keep her safe from losing that optimism that makes her stand out as a beacon of hope to inspire others, which they do. FOWL isn’t like Magica or Lunaris who want to make themselves known flat out to the world with their egos. They’re very cunning and cold blooded with going about executing their plans for control of the Earth. Particularly, Bradford is the serious threat most of all because he’s the brains of this outfit giving precision in each order to those under his command. Combine Bradford’s knowledge with the muscle of Steelbeak, Rockerduck’s underhanded scheming, Gandra Dee’s scientific intellect, Black Heron’s lust for more power, and Phantom Blot’s ability to absorb all kinds of magic that gives the McDucks’ a severe scenario they’ve never faced. FOWL is the right combination to put an end to Scrooge’s adventuring because Bradford has kept a close eye on him for so many years. Bradford has seen plenty of Scrooge at his total best and worst most of all. He’s studied upon every detail of Scrooge’s life, for who knows how many years, and is finally putting all of it to use against him, where we get to see the extent of just how well Bradford can read every one of his moves. Lunaris’ intellect was simply a figurative puddle compared to what Bradford managed to accomplish with his high IQ.

The scary thing is Scrooge knows this reality himself, too. 

That’s one of my favorite elements of Impossibin’s purpose. We get to see Scrooge seriously doubt his abilities. In episodes, like The Most Dangerous Game Night and The 87 Cents Solution, Scrooge has always prided himself in being a very sharp individual who could see every angle and any detail that others couldn’t. Bradford, on the other hand, rivals Scrooge’s thinking that puts an eerie perspective on things for the old man. Scrooge always thought to be one step ahead of the game, but then realizes that someone who’s been by his side for so very long played him like a fiddle all those years. Who’s to say Scrooge isn’t probably thinking back on stuff such as Bradford shutting down his rescue operation for Della, controlling his money usage, letting Louie hang around Bradford in The Richest Duck In The World, finalizing Gyro’s inventions, etc? Scrooge realizes he’s had a dangerous character around the family manor all those years, which makes him doubt his ability to trust himself in protecting everything that he holds importantly in life. Scrooge isn’t just thinking he’s been fooled, he’s doubting every aspect of what made him competent to begin with. Doesn’t help among this moment of self reflection Bradford is there to further rub in that harsh reality of how much he knows about Scrooge.

This moment gave me chills because it completely put a spin upon the story’s concept. I figured that FOWL would hack Scrooge’s security system, with help from Gandra Dee’s abilities, and I’m glad it went this route, since it shows how dangerous things are this time. They’re not even safe within the confines of their own manor anymore, considering Bradford knows every nook and cranny of it. Scrooge thought only he knew the security system’s password, given its based on the amount of all money in his money bin, but Bradford covered that crucial detail, too. Bradford isn’t leaving any loose ends toward Scrooge in how he’ll go about using any little thing against him for future reference. That’s what makes the stakes higher here than compared to Lunaris’ invasion. This is a much more personal story between a clash of ideals with Adventuring vs Control. Lunaris lacked that emotional connection here Bradford is making Scrooge have to face that adds another layer of tension to this situation. Bradford wants Scrooge to know, “I have control over you. There is nothing you know that I’ve already figured out about yourself.”, and going about hacking the robotic version of himself is the best way to send home that message to him. It can also be interpreted as symbolism for Scrooge fighting his own insecurities when Bradford takes control of the robot to start attacking.

I need you, the two most cunning individuals I know, to spot any weaknesses.

Now, Della & Louie did serve a big purpose, despite the Plot A point focusing greatly on Scrooge’s existential dilemma, for they were there to remind Scrooge of just how much of an impact his life style has had on them. Della & Louie’s teamwork together throughout the episode is a perfect way to give Scrooge a reality check reminder for how skilled they are as adventurous fighters against unknown dangers. After all, Scrooge passed on his skills to Della, who’d later pass down her intellectual skills to him, too. Again, tying into the whole theme of legacy and what not about how much family can bring out the best in each other. If it wasn’t for what Scrooge had taught them, then he wouldn’t have been saved by Louie’s defining act of being a badass, by willingly diving into the pile of money, which got hit by a gravity changing rosa rune from the robot and ended up crushing it. I wanted to see more mature Louie, so him lifting Scrooge up about how much pride he has in the family lineage was a great nod to it. That in turn, allowed Scrooge to remember why he and their family are strong together. You know, after recent events that have happened in my life, seeing legacy be explored in DuckTales Season 3 means a lot to me now more than ever.

As for Beakly’s B Plot, in terms of how it ties into a neat bow with Scrooge’s story, shows how intense she’s getting at the notion of eventually facing FOWL again. Honestly, I’m not surprised if she’s getting flashbacks of whatever painful or traumatic events happened to her in those Agent 22 days. I mean, for God’s sake, she tells Webby to straight up incapacitate Huey, who was already so scared. Something Webby refuses to agree with as the best course of training methods to better prepare against the greater threat. Beakly’s characterization has always fascinated me with how well she guards her vulnerability, kind of like Goldie in a way, but the difference here is outta great concern for others rather than herself. My mind can’t stop thinking about this scene, as there could most likely be underlying context for why Beakly is getting so worked up over this training. It seems Beakly is carrying a tremendous weight on her shoulders, probably some heavy angst, that it looks like she wants to say, but can’t because of bigger story reasons we’ll find out later in Season 3′s final batch of episodes. Special mention to Donald Duck putting his foot down on Beakly’s very intense training session. Donald knows the trials and errors of what it means to be a parent. He was once very overly protective of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but learned to let them experience the world for what it is and not hold them back, so I liked how it ties into Beakly’s dilemma of trying to protect Webby from FOWL’s heartless nature.

Beakly’s plot may have not gotten much focus, but it did a very good job setting up more angst to come between her and Webby’s relationship. Things are gonna get very complicated between them when more things come to light. I’m keeping an eye on Huey’s line specifically. When he said, “The one thing we know for sure is that we trust each other, right?”, Beakly did want to bring herself to apologize of course, but I also think she was close to wanting to confess something else to Webby, too. I’m expecting this moment to be called back to when stuff hits the fan with Beakly’s past and whatever Webby’s origins are.

Escape From the Impossibin may have unsettling stuff lurking around the corner with how FOWL managed to distract them with the security system, so they could steal away every missing mystery the family has found so far, but there’s a glimmer of light in all of that darkness. A light that is a reminder of what makes the McDuck family an unstoppable force of trust, hope, and most importantly love. Frank said that things were gonna start going into overdrive with FOWL’s battle against McDuck and he wasn’t kidding around. I’m so overjoyed were getting more episodes in November after this episode finished because that would’ve been a painful wait. Season 3 is gonna start giving things it built up a big pay off and I’m totally here for that!

[thirstyforbishiesimagines]

Hehehe I had way too much fun trolling this ‘cold’ grumpy boii! Poor Eugene can’t catch a break! 

Also... Zion’s such a mood in this fic ψ(｀∇´)ψ 

Enjoy xx

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Dangerous Fellows Christmas Event

Eugene x Reader

Fluff

🎅 🎄 I  Post-Apocalypse

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“EUGENE! STOP… RUNNING!” Legs slowing down from fatigue, totally out of breath, you continue to chase after him.

“NO!” He calls back, zooming in and out of each room as you tail his every move.

“It’ll be cute! I swear!” You plead helplessly, holding out a fuzzy snowman costume toward him.

“HELL. NO.”

“Eugeneee! Pleaseee! We’re gonna be late!”

“GOOD! WE’LL JUST STAY HOME THEN!” He rushes past you, sprinting into the bedroom before locking the door behind him.

“Come on, Eugene!” You catch your breath before slumping against the door for support. “Stop being childish! Everyone will be dressed up!”

“I DON’T CARE!” He yells from behind the door. “AND WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A SNOWMAN?!”

You chuckle lightly, not needing to see his face, you could already picture the cute pout upon his features as he retaliates.

“We all selected from a list! You refused to take part in choosing, so you were left with the snowman nobody wanted!”

You waited patiently for his reply. But as time passed, you were met with nothing but silence. Bringing your ear to the door, you could hear the quiet mumbles of a grumpy Eugene.

Realising you had no other choice, you decide to go with plan B to combat his stubborn resolve.

Pretending to sigh heavily, you slowly begin to walk away while putting on your best discouraged voice.

“Fine! You win! Let me go get changed and then we can go…”

A sinister smile wide upon your lips, you sneakily slip out a newly bought costume from your bag.

A couple minutes go by as Eugene continues to hide himself away.

Exhaling deep, you mask your mischievous grin and casually call out, “OK, EUGENE! I’M DONE! LET’S GO NOW!”

Eyes glued toward the bedroom, you watch as the golden-haired male exits the doorway, a bright triumphant smile upon his lips.

“We’re late now…” You sigh as you pick up your plate of freshly baked cookies, nonchalantly stepping out from behind the counters — now in clear view.

As Eugene’s eyes land on your figure, his winning smile gets utterly washed out by the overwhelming colour of crimson painted over his face.

“ARGH! W-WHAT ARE YOU W-WEARING?!” He stutters, completely paralysed as he shamelessly gawks at your outfit.

Cleavage pushed up to the nines and booty cheeks threatening a full display from the smallest of movements, you simply answer, “My costume?”

You head towards the front door; clad in nothing but lacy red lingerie, a red mini skirt with fluffy white trimming and a simple Santa hat.

As you turn the doorknob, Eugene beelines toward you and slams the door shut. Arms out wide, he shields you from the outside world.

“YOU CALL THAT A COSTUME?!” He questions, totally exasperated as his eyes scan over you in every direction.

“Eugene… we don’t have time for this…” Moving him out of the way, you reach out for the doorknob again before he quickly grabs hold of your arms.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT LEAVING THE HOUSE LIKE THIS! GO GET CHANGED!”

“But… this role is important... Who else will be Santa then?” You ask innocently, tilting your head in fake concern.

“I DON’T KNOW! BUT IT SURE AS HELL WON’T BE YOU!”

“Eugene…”

He then grabs your hands tight, crouching down before looking up to meet your gaze with pleading amber eyes. “Please, (Y/N)! I’ll do anything, I’ll even wear that dumb snowman costume. Just please don’t wear this out.”

“…Really?”

“I’ll put it on right now if you want!” Eugene replies with desperation.

Got him.

Knowing you had him completely wrapped around your finger, you ultimately decide to ease him of his torturous distress. “Well… I guess I might have another outfit somewhere…”

Practically on his knees by now, he pleads once more. “Yes, please… just… anything but that.”

“Okay… I’ll go get changed…”

“Oh, thank god.” Eugene exclaims before slumping down onto the couch.

Taking a small peek at his defeated form as you leave, you witness Eugene laid back — hands covering his red-hot face as his voice is muffled within his palms. “Dammit… she’ll be the death of me.”

At last, you were dressed in the original outfit you had planned to wear all along. Unbeknownst to Eugene, of course. Stepping out into the lounge, you sport a pure white, long feathery dress with a floating halo attached above your head — an entirely opposite theme to the scantily clad fabric you had on just moments before.

Surely, he wouldn’t oppose to leaving with an ‘angel’.

Standing before your spiritually depleted boyfriend, you twirl around merrily before flashing him a glowing grin.

He stares for a moment before shaking his head. “No good… You’re still too cute.”

Astonished over his constant denial, you groan, “Eugene!”

“Fine… at least it won’t skyrocket my blood pressure this time.”

You stare at him as he avoids your eyes. “Your turn.”

Eugene hesitates slightly before sighing, finally grabbing the once abandoned costume. “Why do I feel played…?”

.

“I look stupid…” Eugene complains, his feet heavy with every step.

“No… you’re adorable!” You giggle as you excitedly skip up to Harry’s doorstep, hearing Eugene sigh for the thousandth time behind you.

Before you could even knock, Harry swings the door open. “Welcome!”

Eugene’s eyes go wide for a moment as he realises what Harry was wearing. You look back and poke your tongue out at him as he groans in defeat. Covered in red and white with a sack of presents to match, Harry gleams happily within his Santa costume. “Merry Christmas, guys!”

“Merry Christmas, Harry!” You beam back wholeheartedly.

“Yeah, yeah…” Eugene sighs once more, dreading the chaos within.

Harry gestures inside, “Come in! Everyone’s already here.”

Stepping into the warmly lit home, you’re both welcomed with an onslaught of greetings and well wishes from all around the room. Your eyes light up with joy as you reunite with the friends you now call ‘family’. Seeing everyone’s festive spirit made you feel right at home.

“HEYYY!!” Zion greets loudly from the kitchen. Stepping out into the lounge, you’re met with the brazenly exposed, half-naked redhead with a gold ribbon tied neatly around his neck. “Aww, well aren’t you guys the cutest?” Zion calls out as you break into hysterical laughter.

“…Aren’t you cold?” Eugene asks, wholly unimpressed, eyes creasing as thin as slits.

“You’re right… it DID get cold all of a sudden…” Zion wraps his arms around his bare form before looking in your direction. “(Y/N), did you HAVE to bring the snow in with you?”

“And… it starts.” Eugene mutters under his breath. Wiping the tears in the corners of your eyes, you try to question his clothing options—or lack thereof—but Eugene beats you to it. “So, what are you meant to be anyway?”

Zion’s eyes go wide with shock, dumbfounded by his simple question. “You can’t tell? Am I not a gift to your eyes?”

The room falls silent. So quiet, you could even hear the soft crackles of the flames within the fireplace.

Zion looks around the room, flabbergasted at everyone’s absent response. “I’m everyone’s Christmas present!”

“Bet you’re full of coal.” Eugene snickers.

“Only if you’ve been bad~” Zion fires back with a wink as he backs away toward the kitchen again, finger gunning the entire way back until he was out of view.

Eugene groans before sighing once more. “Today’s gonna be a long day... Can I take this off now?”

“Nooo! We need to take a family photo with everyone first!” Stopping him from unzipping himself and trying to lighten his sour mood, you nudge Eugene’s side playfully. “Come on! Everyone’s in the Christmas spirit and having fun!”

“Urgh… This is why I hate Christmas…”

You giggle at his predictable response before cheerfully waving back to Ethan and Lawrence sitting by the fire. “Ok, Scrooge. How about we say hello to everyone first and then go grab some food, sound good?”

He’ll be in a better mood after he eats.

“Fine… You know I’m only putting up with this ‘cause I love you, right?”

“I know.” Leaning up on your toes, you give Eugene a quick peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Eugene.”

“Yeah…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his golden tresses awkwardly.

.

Standing by the dining table filled with traditionally festive dishes, you lovingly feed spoonful’s of pudding to your now content boyfriend. For once, he wasn’t complaining about being here or feeling defensive over his attire. He began to actually enjoy himself as he caught up with everyone.

Well… That was until Zion came back to set down some eggnog on the table.

Coming up beside you, Zion looks toward Eugene before letting out a giant sneeze… a fake one of course. But it was enough to bring Eugene’s mood back to square one.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST PUT A SHIRT ON, YOU FUCKING NARCISSIST?!”

“Man… the winter breeze sure is howling loud today!” Zion effortlessly ignores him as he snakes an arm around your shoulders. “You know, (Y/N)… since it’s so cold here, I heard that an easy way to warm ourselves is to cuddle each other while being stark nake-”

Before he could finish his sentence, with lightning fast reflexes, Eugene swipes a plastic butter knife from the table and places it by Zion’s cheek. His eyes now dark with murderous intent, voice seething in malice. “Hands.Off.My.Girlfriend.”

Zion immediately takes his hands off of you and raises them up as a sign of mercy. “Whoa… Chill, bro.”

“Ayeee~” Judy chimes in as she reaches out her hand for a synchronised fist bump with the proud redhead.

“Pfft-” Failing to stifle your chuckle, you go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter again, having way too much fun from everyone’s shenanigans.

Eugene snaps his head toward you, a look of utter betrayal in his expression. “Really, (Y/N)? That joke got you too?”

“I’m s-sorry… The timing… was perfect!” You manage to say as you clutch your stomach, giving in to the giggles.

About ready to burn his costume at this point, Eugene barks out, “CAN WE TAKE THIS DAMN PICTURE ALREADY?!”

.

Now cozy in their everyday clothes—after the chaotic madness of capturing the perfect group photo—the mood was tranquil as everyone chatted amongst themselves.

A moment of calm washed over the both of you as you sat comfortably within Eugene’s embrace by the roaring fire. A glass of warm eggnog within your palms, Eugene rested his chin within the curve of your neck — drained from the constant torment.

“Finally… Zion can leave me alone with his lame ass dad jokes now.”

Feeling somewhat responsible and guilty for putting your boyfriend through such turmoil, you decide to sneakily lead him away to a place that Harry secretly set up for you.

“What are you planning now?” Eugene’s eyebrow raises, underlying skepticism within his voice as you slip away from the party.

Spotting the hanging mistletoe in the hallway ahead, you eagerly drag Eugene over and situate him right underneath. 

“OK! Now, look up!”

Eyes raising toward the ceiling before settling back on your expectant gaze, he smirks roguishly, “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked.”

Is it too cliché?

Suddenly feeling horrified by how enthusiastic you were, you cover your rosy cheeks with your palms and attempt to run off. “You’re right! This is dumb!”

“Hey!” Eugene protests as he hastily grabs you by the hand and gently pulls you into his arms, chuckling as he witnesses your bashful demeanour. “It’s only fair if I get to tease you a little too…”

His hand reaches up to caress your cheek, thumb gliding over your mouth as it lingers upon your soft lips. Leaning in close, his hot breath inches from your skin, he whispers, “How are you so adorable?”

Without a moment of hesitation, your eyelids flutter to a close — anticipating the warmth of his lips pressed upon yours.

Just as you were about to close the gap however, a wolf whistle echoes from the end of the hall.

Both taken aback by surprise, you turn your heads to witness a sneering Zion leaning against the wall… watching in amusement. “Oh, ho ho~ Be careful, (Y/N). If this gets any steamier, Olaf over here will melt away!”

Your face burns with embarrassment having been caught in the act of such a lovey-dovey scene. Infuriated by his interruption, Eugene blows up in rage for the... how many times today? You seem to have lost count at this point.

“SERIOUSLY, ZION! DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?! I’M NOT EVEN WEARING THAT STUPID COSTUME ANYMORE!”

Waving his hand indifferently in dismissal, Zion wanders off, dusting his hands like he had just completed a job well done.

“God, he’s so irritating! How is he everywhere?!” Eugene grumbles as he massages his temples with his fingers.

“Even I’m starting to get annoyed now.” You admit, your eyes falling into aggravated slits at Zion’s retreating form.

“We should have never come…” Eugene pouts, his expression reminding you of a provoked cat.

Cute...

You wrap your arms around him, hoping to calm him again. You hear him sigh in frustration as he returns your embrace before nuzzling his face into your (h/c) locks. “You know he only teases out of love, right?”

He scoffs at the thought.

Taking his hand in yours, you smile knowingly. “Plus, you don’t need to hide it, I know you enjoyed seeing everyone again.”

His attention shifts to the side, avoiding your gaze as his cheeks grow a subtle blush. “Whatever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his innocent response.

“Anyways…” He trails off as his fingers delicately lift your chin upwards. “The only love I need is yours.”

Leaning down a second time, Eugene’s gentle lips press together with yours. Fitting together as perfect as a puzzle, you gasp lightly as he hugs you tighter. 

His scent was... reminiscent of faint firewood.

His lips... tasting of subtle hints of cinnamon.

Every part of him consumed your senses. 

As he grips your chin eagerly, your mouth parts immediately as if by instinct — welcoming his intoxicating tongue.

Contrary to what Zion believed, Eugene’s kiss left your body melting under his every touch.

As your lips part ways with his,  Eugene’s eyes were met with your fervent gaze — his eyebrows furrowing in response. “Can we go home now?”

Misunderstanding his intentions, you fail to hide your sadness. “You hated the party that much?”

“It’s not that… It was good to see everyone. But, I just… wanna spend some time with you now, (Y/N)…”

“O-Oh…Okay.” You stutter. He wasn’t usually this forward or honest, and it left you feeling a little shy. The prior hours, as you dragged on your stay, made you somewhat apologetic toward him. “I’m sorry for making you wear that costume.”

His eyes go wide before smiling warmly. “It’s fine… as long as you had fun.”

A bubbly grin on your face, you beam, “I did! Thank you, Eugene!”

Eugene chuckles quietly in response as he ruffles your hair. “Anyways, I guess it was worth it.” He then clears his throat uncomfortably. “…You looked beautiful today.”

“Only today?” You question; your tone, playful.

Eyes closing from exhaustion due to everyone’s constant lively energy, he sighs deeply as he rests his forehead against yours. “Give me a break already… You know what I mean.”

Tittering softly, you slowly nod against him.

“Don’t even start me on that lacy shit you had on this morning…” Eugene then looks up abruptly, confusion clear on his handsome features. “Wait… You tricked me! What was that outfit for anyway? Harry was Santa…”

Giggling radiantly at the memory of your prank, you reply, “It’s a gift!”

Eugene’s eyebrows raise in curiosity before you leaned closer to clarify, “But only for your eyes…”

“Ah…” Eugene places a hand on his mouth, turning his face toward the wall and averting his gaze — hiding the faint blush upon his skin.

He then clears his throat again before looking at you in a suspicious stare. “You’re not gonna chase me around again and say you bought it for me to wear, are you?”

Although you found the idea quite tempting, you smile sincerely. “I think I’ve teased you enough for one day.”

“Good.”

Taking your hand in his, he leads you away from the mistletoe and out of the halls. Pink hues decorate your cheeks as you anticipate a festive night, spent only in the arms of one another.

.

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x luna

[plethora-of-imagines]

Tradition

AN: My Secret Santa fic is for the amazing FabulousPotatoSister! I hope you enjoy it! I tried to incorporate something that would be culturally significant (in a small way) and I am so, so sorry if I messed it up!!! 

Word Count: 1805

Description: The Doctor wants to celebrate Christmas with you. Christmas may already be passed but it doesn't mean that she can't have a small celebration with you and she has plans to try a tradition.

Secret Santa: @fabulouspotatosister

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

“I know that it technically isn’t Christmas anymore for you, but - well you know- time machine and all.”

The Doctor did a little flourish as she reminded you that she lived in a time machine. As if you would ever forget this fact after having traveled with her throughout time for years. You tried to hide your laughter behind your hand, she was so cute. All eager and attempting to convince you of something you hadn’t even said no to yet.

"I don't know Doctor," you played hard to get, "last time we really celebrated Christmas together you ate mistletoe and got sick..."

For someone who spent so much time around humans, the Doctor managed to misunderstand traditions quite often. The fact that her eleventh body -or so she claimed, with how often she forgot her own age you almost doubted she knew how many bodies she had inhabited- had decided it was a good idea to consume all the mistletoe that you had used to decorate the TARDIS with was a clear sign of her ability to misunderstand tradition. They had gotten horribly sick and you had spent the whole holiday trying to keep the stubborn Time Lord in bed. You had never let him live it down, even when he had regenerated.

"That was two lifetimes ago. And I thought we promised never to mention it again!"

Okay, maybe after a lot of begging you had agreed to let them "live it down". 

You held her pouting face in your hands. A silent apology for bringing it up. Thumbs rubbing against her cheeks. You would feel bad about teasing her if it weren’t for the smile on her face the moment you touched her.

"What did you have in mind, Doctor?" You couldn’t help but inquire.

She leaned into the affection you were showing her like a touch-starved cat. Completely ignoring your question in favor of nuzzling into your palms. Eyes closed in bliss.

"Doctor?"

You hoped to catch her attention before you had to resort to drastic measures, like pulling your palms away from her face.

"I've been researching," she murmured. "I have a small idea, nothing big or impressive. We barely need to leave the TARDIS, which reduces the chance of trouble."

"Oh? So unlike your previous two selves, we will actually manage to do this unscathed? No sick from mistletoe boyish Time Lords? Or trouble seeking grumpy Scotsman Scrooges?"

You let yourself be just a bit dramatic about your somewhat sarcastic teasing. After the mistletoe disaster, her next regeneration refused to celebrate the holiday with you. It wouldn’t have been as disappointing as it was if he hadn’t tried to find an alien invasion to stop in order to avoid celebrating with you. It had been almost insulting. Which was why in the following years you had simply gone home for Christmas. The Doctor’s newest regeneration had a reestablished interest in celebrating the holiday with you that you didn’t quite trust yet. 

You kissed her nose before finally pulling your hands away from cradling her face, reveling in getting her to scrunch her nose in surprise. She stumbled after you for a moment before she caught herself and rushed around the TARDIS. Maneuvering around the console as she rushed to get you to your destination before you could consider denying her. Not that you would ever deny her.

“I didn’t agree to your plans yet Doctor!”

She ducked her head out around the center column. 

“Ah, but you didn’t say no yet either!”

Smiling incredulously, you shook your head, knowing that there would be no stopping her now.

“Can I know what the plan even is? Please, Doctor?”

You made your best puppy dog eyes at her. Doing your best to will her into giving away the plans she likely wanted to keep as a surprise.

“It’s a surprise! Besides, I’m sure that you will recognize what the plan is once we buy what we need for it.”

The TARDIS landed with a soft, teasing chime. The machine herself laughing at your sorry attempt at manipulation. The Doctor gave her a look that practically said, ‘please stop making fun of my human’.

Grabbing a scarf from the hexagon step’s railing, she did an awkward little jog over to you. Throwing the scarf around your head, pulling you in close before wrapping the one end around your neck. The other end had the majority of the excess. The tails were obviously lopsided. In a quick motion, the Doctor wrapped the other end around her own neck. Burying her chin in the fabric, hoping to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks.

“Sharing a scarf... it’s cute.”

You avoided her eyes, starting to feel just as embarrassed as she was. The two of you seemed to be back to the shy teen stage of your relationship after her regeneration this time. Everything seemed softer, every glance and touch full of yearning. 

“Well, you can’t wander off and get into trouble if we are attached,” the Doctor eventually found as an excuse for the action that could have been seen as either sweet or clingy.

“More like it’s a kiddy leash so a certain Time Lady can’t run off and get into trouble without me.”

You gently nudged her in the side as you playfully teased her.

“Hey!” She protested in faux outrage. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly capable of dragging you into trouble without the help of my makeshift human danger-magnet leash.”

“Human danger-magnet leash!” 

Laughing you almost fell over, bringing the Doctor with you. Luckily you caught yourself in time before you could fall far.

“Shut up!” She was smiling. “Come on, trouble maker let’s go get the shopping done with before some aliens decide to invade the market I’ve chosen.”

Walking out of the TARDIS you almost expected the market to be- well, alien. Instead, it seemed to be a normal human market like the ones you would find back home. However the ordinary setting didn’t disappoint you, it served as reassurance that the small celebration that the Doctor wanted to have with you would actually manage to be peaceful.

Exploring side by side you tried to determine what it was that the Doctor was looking for. If you knew what you were searching for you could help to find it. All of your attempts to ask were met with a smile and gentle reassurance that you were smart and would figure it out. You had your suspicions when the Doctor stopped at a stall lit up with the traditional paper Christmas stars you would see at home during the holidays.

Those suspicions furthered as she gathered up bamboo poles and colored paper. Your excitement grew as she paid for the items. She had actually done some research, she hadn’t just said that to reassure you. As the shopkeeper handed her the bag filled with her purchases she turned to you.

“Back to the TARDIS before trouble can find us?”

You looked at her in adoration,” back to the TARDIS,” you agreed.

**************************

Sitting on the console room floor you helped the Doctor to organize the supplies as she started to nervously ramble.

“I watched a few videos so I should be okay at putting the star frame together for the parols. Is it pronounced parol? I honestly don’t know how to pronounce it, the videos I watched always just had the instructions typed out on the screen while calming music played. Did they pick calming music because putting these together is normally stressful? Or do you think it was just whatever the top royalty-free song happened to be? Either way, I think I can make the parol frames. Please tell me if I’m making a fool of myself and saying that wrong!”

“Your pronunciation is perfect Doctor,” you kissed her cheek to help stop her rambling.

As you continued to organize the paper by color the Doctor started to assemble the frames. Using her sonic as a method by which to secure the poles in place. You had no idea how it was working but you weren’t about to question it. She was making them in a variety of sizes, one was so big you weren't sure that you had enough paper to cover the frame. You thought about telling her that one was too big, but you didn’t want to ruin her fun.

Once the paper was organized you began to cover the completed frames. Starting with the smaller frames that would take up less paper. Gluing the paper onto the frames with care, not wanting to rip any of it. It was delicate work, but it was fun.

The Doctor watched your movements carefully when she was done putting all the frames together, watching with eager childlike interest. Slowly, after you had finished covering a few frames, she began to work on covering a few herself.

Her attempts were a bit childish. Small corners not covered or the paper bunched up in places. But you didn't mind at all. They had character, they spoke of being made by the Doctor.

The companionable silence as you worked ended when it was time to work together on covering the ambitiously large parol. The two of you joking together as you attempted to cover the large frame. You making fun of her for wanting to make one this huge. You managed to just barely cover the whole frame. It looked like the inside of a kaleidoscope with the random assortment of colors patched together.

The Doctor hung the parols throughout the console room, the natural glow of the pillars lighting them up. You felt as though you were in a sea of stars. The TARDIS pulsed lightly to bring your attention to the side of the room where two mugs of hot chocolate and a large fuzzy blanket were placed. Bringing them to the center of the room you settled onto the floor. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. When the Doctor finished hanging the last parol she turned to you for approval. Opening your arms to her you encouraged her to join you in the blanket for cuddles.

Immediately she rushed to clutch at you, snuggling into your arms with a content sigh.

"Do you like it?" She nervously asked.

"I love it, Doctor. Thank you."

You handed her the mug of hot chocolate and laughed as she eagerly drank it, leaving a milk mustache on her upper lip. Kissing her lips sweetly brought the sweet taste of chocolate to your own mouth. You picked up your own mug and took a sip while admiring the parols spread throughout the room. Maybe you could celebrate Christmas again with this incarnation of the Doctor without fear of trouble. You smiled, you'd have to see how next year went.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Member: Kim Jongin

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: i know what you’re thinking: “all of a sudden, dana???” well, yes. i guess... i spent a good few hours simping over kim jongin because wHO doesn’t right and he’s not even my bias in exo sigh... also this is going to be a pretty morbid one shot so forgive me.

Word Count: 3.2k 

“please just look me in my face, tell me everything's okay”

why was it so easy for him? he looks at you and it’s like he could make the world stop for you. 

don’t get it wrong, you were not in love with him. it is not love, and it will never be, not because he’s a terrible person.

no, never. 

he is the light of your life, and that’s exactly why you would never fall for him. nobody ever believed your relationship with jongin was platonic, but it was enough for the two of you to know the truth yourselves.

“i was wondering where you ran off to.”

the rustle and crumble of dried leaves on the brown and orange floor catches your attention, and your eyes fly downwards to see jongin looking up at you with wide eyes. 

it’s a surprise to see his hair done up, because most of the time it’d be softened and ruffled around his forehead, glasses perched on his nose and his fringe dangling between his lashes. 

but the sight of him just a few metres from your feet hanging over the edge brings a smile to your face. “you’re lucky this ledge is big enough for my ass, i could’ve fallen right over if i got scared of your calling out.”

the dimple on his right cheek reveals itself, and he pulls out his hands, walking over to the ladder under the tree house. 

as he disappears from your view under your feet, you return your attention to the frozen lake beyond the trees, now stark naked without their leaves to hide their age.

the trees’ barks are darker than the fur of beavers, and the leaves that fall like hair from an aged person camouflage into the slightly soiled ground. 

the sun is peeking from behind the slightly cloudy canvas the gods bestowed upon mankind, ridding the frozen lake of its possible beauty had it been given the chance to reflect the sun’s light. 

the cool breeze kisses your skin as if it wasn’t already on the verge of drying up and cracking open.

wooden boards creak under your weight when you hear the trap door of the tree house being pushed upwards and open. it reminds you of how old this treehouse is. 

“how long have you been here?”

you hear him shuffling about, a small thud in the corner farthest from you telling you that he’s removed his shoes. a soft clack signals to you that he gets the trapdoor closed. 

you turn and he is getting off the pile of blankets and pillows stacked against the length of the room. light reflects off the rings he had on his hands, and the gel hardening the strands of his fringe together occurs to you that he had a photo shoot today.

“not long.”

he scoffs, swinging one leg over the ledge and the other up to his knees, back resting against the wood behind him. 

“your definition and my definition of ‘long’ are, unfortunately, very different.”

it earns a gentle laugh from you as you glance at him. “about an hour.”

“an hour is considerably long,” he leans his head back, eyes looking straight at you.

“well, for you.”

a quiet pause. 

“want to tell me why you’re here?”

“why can’t i be here?” 

“because you’re only ever here if you have something you can’t -- or don’t want to -- tell anybody.”

a sharp inhalation of the cold air sours your throat and nose, your eyes travelling out again into the open. slight resignation pulls your lips up your cheek as you look down at your hands, mostly covered in the over-sized pullover that belongs to him. 

“sometimes i feel like you know me too well,” the wind rustles some trees while you look up at him again. “it gets a little intrusive.”

jongin chuckles and sucks his lips between his teeth, fingers playing with the rings on his hands. 

you shake your head, turning back out to nature and leaning your head against the side of the ledge. “i wish i could say no, but if you can already tell then there’s no reason for me to hide.”

he leans forward and the change in position motivates you to side-eye him.

“i had a health check up last month.”

“the one you skipped work for?”

“yeah.”

you don’t need to look at him to know he is panicking. 

jongin was never one to hide his feelings well; in fact, you know him a little too well. 

there is a deadly silence in the air, and suddenly, you feel all as one with the trees outside. it is only a matter of time before you feel as nude as the trees without your hair, before you feel like you are nothing but the solidity of your bones like the trees stand with only their trunks.

the only difference was that flowers will bloom again in spring, and then again year after year, but you?

you’d be buried underground, seeping back into the earth and your existence will become one with the grass, the trees, the leaves. 

“what was in the report?”

it cracks you open like a walnut, to know that he is already in denial before the truth is set out before him. the muscle in your neck feels like it has been frozen in place, forcing you to put in more effort into turning your head to look at him.

but he is as frozen as the trees and water will be when winter completely sets in, he is more frozen than you will be in another year’s time.

a gulp finds the walls of your throat as you stare at him blankly. you curl your toes in your socks, curl your fingers in the sleeves of his pullover, curl your spirit inside your skin when you notice the bare smile on his lips has completely disappeared.

“what was in the report?”

the question hangs itself in the air between the two of you, and jongin is now leaning towards you, arms crossed against his chest. 

“i fucked u--”

“what was in the report?”

“i--”

“what was in the report?”

why does it hurt more to have him know this information, than you knowing it yourself? 

it will definitely hurt more than you shoving yourself off this ledge; it will definitely hurt more than you going through chemotherapy just to relief the pain; it will hurt the most when he is the one giving your eulogy because he is the only person for you, even if it was never romantic.

it will definitely hurt like fuck when your spirit will witness his tears falling to the ground, but you cannot hug him, you cannot wipe his tears away and tell him everything will be okay. 

not when he is looking down at your lifeless body, buried 6 feet into the earth and returned to mother nature. 

“...stage four... pancreatic cancer.”

the words are heavier on him than they are on you. 

the sleepless nights from nausea and abdominal pain were already telltale signs that your body has been refusing to function the way it should. 

initially, you were worried it was just your reproductive system acting up the way it does every other month, but when it gets worse and your period doesn’t show up the way it should, something felt wrong.

of course, jongin didn’t need to know. he doesn’t need to know he will lose his best friend in another year. he doesn’t need to know he cannot stop the world to save you. he doesn’t need to know he cannot do anything about it. 

his adams’ apple bobs up and down as he swallows, and he pulls back away from you. his back meets the edge of the ledge with no control, and he hides half his face behind his arms, dawned in the black sleeves.

his voice cracks the moment the first word comes out muffled into the cotton of his clothes, and his eyes became all the more harder to look at. 

“it’s a good time to tell me you’re messing with me.”

your teeth sink into your bottom lip, and a frown cements itself between your brows as you quickly look away. 

he shuffles, and his presence disappears from next to you when he stands up behind you.

“i’m still waiting for you to tell me it’s a joke.”

i wish.

your jaws are clenched, and just imagining him crying is enough to tear you apart. it feels like it was your fault for breaking the news to him.

“i’m sorry,” you bury your face into your hands, fingerpads pressing into your lids where your eyes are closed. “i should’ve known sooner.”

the wooden boards creak behind you as he paces up and down the treehouse, and the creaking stops. 

the complete absence of movement, or sound, is creeping up on you like a scrooge’s ghost of the past, and it urges you to turn around to make sure he isn’t going to throw himself out the ledge.

but he is looking at you with strained eyes. his lips are slightly pursed and he is blinking like life was running in slow motion. 

you could hear your own heart thumping in your head while his soul crawls out from his pupils and dig into your eyes. it’s as if he is trying to pick you apart from the inside to eradicate every toxic cell inside you, so he could put you back together again.

so you watch the truth sink into him like snow would sink into the ground when you are one with the earth, and it forces him to sink to his knees infront of you. 

the sight is tremendously revolting, causing you to jump to your knees. frantically grabbing onto his arms, his weight feels like it has been doubled, now with the knowledge that he is losing you, though not the same way you will be losing him.

the tears are definitely not your priority right now, though you couldn’t really see well with all that shit in your eyes. 

jongin does not move an inch and it is heartbreaking to know that he cannot accept it, no matter how true this was. 

“get up. please--”

your legs were weak by the time he pulls you into his chest, and you fall messily into body as he shifts backwards. 

his arms are wrapped around your shoulders and your right ear is plastered to his heart, rapidly running in his ribcage. his legs stretched out by your lower back and knees, and you wish with all your might that this is just a nightmare you will wake up from.

that you will see him at dinner after his work, that he will send you home and say hi to your parents, that you will be invited over to his place to watch movies and he could make you breakfast the next day.

but it is not a nightmare, regardless the effort you channel into your wishful thinking. 

he pulls away and it is more surprising than not when he leans forward, never hesitating for a moment. 

is this how snow white felt when the kiss restored her life?

but you are not snow white, and jongin does not have that ability to prevent your nearing death. 

when jongin pulls away, he is looking into your tear coated eyes and ugly-streaked face. his thumb wipes the wet trails off your cheeks, orbs filled with ache and hatred.

not for you, but for life and life’s decision to take you away from him.

“is there... anything you want me to do?”

you could feel his hands trembling against your cheek, and you writhe further into his palm, into his warmth. your hands comes up to hold the back of his hand against your face, your eyes shutting tightly and pushing out the overflowing tears.

“anything. anything at all. it doesn’t have to be now but--”

“nothing,” you shake your head and open your eyes to beg him. “please, just stay with me.”

you can already hear the grind of the gears as you are lowered into the ground, and the choir of sobs and hiccups in the background. jongin will not be one of them, for he will be too tired and too broken to force anymore tears out.

it takes him awhile to process your wish and you weren’t sure if he understood it wrongly, but it is overwhelmingly, horridly, destructively heartwrenching when he shoves his lips between yours again.

it is in that moment that you could no longer tell the line between death and love, because it definitely feels like he is trying to bear the burden of your fate through your lips.

you can taste the regret and anger on his tongue when you let him slide through your lips and your eyes flutter shut upon the contact.

his palms drop down to your thighs and he wraps your legs around his waist while he’s still sitting down. you wonder where he finds the strength to drag the both of you backwards to where the pillows and blankets were.

he tastes like life because he is a crucial part of yours. 

it is difficult to understand why you were chosen to be torn apart from him; from someone you never want to leave, and jongin will go through the trouble of figuring that part out on his own. 

your hair falls down the side of your face when you tilt your head, your thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones and his palms warm on your lower back. 

the kiss is broken when you pull away to rub your tears away with the sleeves of his pullover, and he looks at you like it was the last time you were in his arms.

“forgive me,” he says, quiet and unresolved. “but i don’t care if we’ve been just friends. there is nothing for me to lose, and i want you to know that i love you, more than anything in the world.”

so much for wiping my tears away.

your sharp inhalation is garbled by the mucus that was already collecting in your nose. 

your nods start shallow and light but it soon becomes aggressive when the importance of what the two of you have and will physically lose is in fact, running on a time bomb. 

“i love you too.”

the cold air runs off your faces when he finds your lips again, this time feeling more desolate and resentful, and you can only imagine how he was feeling.

he leans forward so he can shift you over onto the pillows, and your back rests into the soft padding of the stacked blankets and cushions. 

jongin doesn’t try to be intrusive or aggressive with his kisses or his touch, his hand only running down the length of your thigh that was leaning on his hip. 

the tears don’t stop, but they are running slightly slower, now that his declaration of love for you makes you feel like this was everlasting and eternal, even if you were not.

he pulls away to leave butterfly kisses on the icy skin on your neck, and the sensation of his warm lips against the coolness is especially hard to wrap your head around. 

your breathing is surprisingly stable, and you realise it was because it is jongin. you trust him with your life and he will carry your ashes to the end of the world if he needed to keep you by his side.

he rests his forehead on yours, alternating kisses between your lips, cheeks and forehead while his fingers grip the rim of your joggers. 

the huffs from his lips tell you that he was in more pain that he’d like to admit, and the sudden slow-down in his movements give his thoughts away faster than he shakes his head and locks eyes with you.

“i’m sorry, we shouldn’t--”

“no, please,” your fingers wrap around his arm by the side of your chest. “we have nothing to lose, and i don’t want to go if you think i don’t trust you, if you think i don’t love you.”

resignation tightens his temples and shuts his eyes like someone screwing a nail into his head and he looks away for a brief moment, his breath shaky and indecisive. 

so it is absolutely bitter when you take the initiative to catch his lips again, and you drag his hand back down to your joggers. 

wrapping his fingers around the rim, you help him pull down the material while you arch your back off the blankets. 

jongin doesn’t say another word while he pulls away to remove both your bottoms and your underwear, the cool air hitting you where you were sinfully yearning for his love. 

but what are sins, if you were already chosen to leave without a choice?

his crouched, almost lifeless frame gets his belt undone, his knees locking your legs apart. 

the sight does not make you want him more sexually, but instead makes you love him even more. 

was it because he loved you as much as you loved it? was it because he is so willing to prove it? you might never know, but it was alright. 

knowing that he ever loved you the way you did was enough. 

jongin pulls the blanket over his back, the sides draping down the sides of your hips while he positions himself over you. 

it takes him awhile to find the strength to look at you.

“everything will be okay as long as i’m here with you.”

he brushes his thumb across your cheekbone while you nod, and he buries his lips between yours as he pushes himself into you. 

the initial pain does not do anything to curb the pain you were feeling inside, so when the pain seeps away into pleasure like you’ve never known before, it is endearing that you chose to give your most prized possession to jongin. 

it was strange that the both of you were still mostly clothed with a blanket covering the most obscene part where you were joined, but it doesn’t matter, does it?

not when you have fallen to your knees, begging and pleading life to tell you why you were being torn away from him.

jongin is aware it is your first time, so he starts off slow and makes sure you’re not wincing in pain before he picks up the pace.

he buries his nose into your neck, and the soft mewls you were feeding his ears were earning low grunts into the skin on your collarbone.

your nails dig into his back while he thrusts into you, the feeling of embracing him in such a sensual way was all too difficult to bear. 

was this it? was your life all meant for you to realise that jongin loved you the way you did? did you realise the one thing that fate needed you to, and now that you were done with it, you were being taken away?

it is bittersweet that fate needed to put you through this ordeal in order to understand the love you shared with him.

then again, he was always enough. 

he was your truth, he is your truth, and he always will be. 

[prettylittlebrownskingyal]

Can we please get 06 with either Tim or Jason? Thank you you're making my day with these 😭💞

06. we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b (bonus: bedsharing! we’re adults!)

where my timmy thots at??

It’s eerily quiet.

He catalogues all the sounds he can hear just for something to do in the slow-moving traffic. The sleek swish of his windshield wipers clearing the dusting of falling snow, the idle hum of the engine and the soft breaths you take in your sleep. If he was a bit more manic, he’d insist that he could hear his own thrumming heartbeat too.

He doesn’t want to look at you.

He can’t.

He shouldn’t.

Not after last weekend’s drunk mistakes. (His and your own.)

But you hadn’t uttered a word about the mess he’d made. And you’d willingly gotten into a car with him— carrying an extra travel mug of hot chocolate with his name written in pink, stuck to the side on a garish princess label. He hoped all was forgiven. That maybe you’d decided to let it be. He hoped that he would find a way to look at you without feeling like his chest was an empty, gnawing cavern of reckless emotions.

You’re still asleep when he takes the next turn on the interstate. The soft sighs you breathe out in slumber are all too close to the sounds you’d made when he pressed his mouth to yours in a haze of tangy alcoholic drinks and shiny tinsel. He remembers the softness of your body under his hands, the way you’d wound your hands into his hair instead of pushing him away. You turn again, your foot catching the edge of the dashboard as you move.

 He tries his best to drive as carefully as possible, not wanting to jar you. The feeling in his chest pervades.

***

“We’re never going to get home if you keep driving like a grandma.”

“It’s snowing” he grits out. “The roads are icy.”

“You’re like—” you lean over to check the speedometer. He gets a whiff of your shampoo as you do, sweet and familiar and his whole body involuntarily stiffens in anticipation. “—twenty below the limit, Drake. We’ll have grandkids by the time we get there.”

Tim swallows down the connotations of “we” and “grandkids” and instead pushes you back into your seat with his pointer finger pressed against your nose. “I’m not going to die like an idiot, speeding in a snowstorm because you lack patience. Now, shut up.”

You hiss at him, tongue between your teeth and middle finger flipped up in his direction but you offer nothing else. This silence is different than before. 

When you were asleep, he’d wound himself up tightly with the desire to wake you and just flat out ask, “Do you remember kissing me last weekend?” Now that you’re alert and side-eyeing him, he feels a lot less brave.

The emptiness in his chest is replaced with a merciless weight that presses sharply into his lungs. 

He wonders if its because you can see his edge fraying that you make a showy, dramatic attempt at fiddling around with the aux cord until Mariah Carey fills the car.

“You get five plays of this song.”

“You’re a Scrooge.”

“Three, if you annoy me anymore.”

You make an affronted noise at the back of your throat. “The snowstorm isn’t going to kill you, Tim. It’ll be the warmth of the Christmas spirit that melts your frozen heart.”

You’ve already accomplished that, he thinks stupidly to himself. He cringes inwardly, feeling his face flush with regret as he watches you mouth along to the lyrics.

***

“Fuck.”

“Would you slow down?”

“Fuck!”

“Take the wheel back from Jesus, goddammit.”

Snow piles onto the windshield in thick and heavy droves. The road becomes obscured to fat powdery hills of ice that refuse to be removed from the glass. Neither of you can see anything, especially as the sun begins to creep out of the sky. That doesn’t stop you from driving like a maniac, though.

“Oh, would you calm down?”

“No, I will not calm down. I can’t believe that I forgot you drive like the Riddler when he’s huffing coffee beans.”

Your face does that adorable thing where it gets trapped between amusement and confusion, your nose scrunched up and your eyes bright. You look over at him with raised eyebrows, far too intrigued for his liking. How is it he’d managed to fall in love with you despite your general nerve frying ridiculousness, he doesn’t know. “You can huff coffee beans?”

“Watch the road.”

You persist, “Can you?”

“Watch. The. Road.”

“I would if I could see the road!”

He groans, pressing his head palms flat into his eyes before dragging his hands down his face. “We have to pull over.”

“Switch places with me. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, really?”

***

“It’s supposed to last how long?”

The little old lady behind the desk of the motel you’d chosen has hair the colour of pewter and a warm, knowing smile. Tim does not trust her one bit.

“At least all night, sweetie.” She pats your hand and turns to him appraisingly. “You dearies are lucky! We’ve got one room left in all this mess. Lots of folks are just trying to get home to their families but the storm’s made it impossible!”

“Don’t we know it,” Tim offers. “Can we get some extra sheets for the beds?”

“Sure, sweetie. Why don’t you kids have some hot chocolate while I get those sheets for the bed out for you.”

“Uh, beds.”

“Oh.” She cocks her head to the side, a bashful look holding onto her features. “There’s only one available. I assumed that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s not,” you say before he can respond. “We’ll make do, ma’am. Thank you.”

“We will?” he baulks.

“Don’t be a baby, Timmy. I promise I won’t steal the sheets.”

***

Tim was right for thinking he’d meet death by your hands. It just so happened that vehicular manslaughter was not part of the equation.

The second he closes the door behind him, his heart jumps into his throat. He’s a confined ball of nervous, jittery energy with no outlet other than to pace between the blinding heat of kissing you and the freezing cold reality that you probably don’t like him as much as he likes you. And god, does he like you.

He likes you even more as you elect to ignore his inward torture. There’s a minute— you’re standing at the foot of the bed, eyes half-lidded in scrutiny as you watch him walk a semi-circle from the door to the bed and back— where he knows you want to ask. You want to clap your hands and have his defensive walls crumble until his emotions come spilling out but you don’t. You don’t press or pry or ponder. You step back and let him work it out himself, and that he can appreciate. 

“You can take the first shower, yeah?” You’re already handing him a soft white towel. “I’ll go get us something to eat.”

“No, I—”

You lift a hand to halt his protests. “Hey, you’ve seen my face a whole lot today. Take a minute to yourself— and I don’t mean that in a creepy way. Not that…you know….you taking a personal minute is creepy or. I just—”

“I got it.” He takes the towel and bites back a smile. “Get us something stupidly unhealthy.”

“You got it, birdboy.” 

He spends far too long staring at himself in the mirror,white-knuckling soap spattered porcelain until he hears the door open again. You’re humming under your breath, footsteps soft as you meander into the room. He steps under the spray, just as you rap twice on the bathroom door.

“The nice lady made us sandwiches and I got cookies. You ok, Timmy?”

He lies through his teeth, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

You’re sitting criss-cross applesauce on the burgundy carpeted floor when he steps out in a cloud of steam and flowery scented soap.

“I’m borrowing a sweater cause it’s cold and my pyjamas aren’t fit for this tundra.”

“That’s fine.”

Your phone falls to the floor with a thud as you stand up, towering over him as he cowers into a pillow on the bed. You don’t even look back at it, eyes zeroing in on him. “No protesting? What gives?”

“Nothing. I’m—”

“Fine,” you cock an eyebrow.

“Tired.”

That satiates you long enough for you to shower and tiptoe back into the room. His sweater sleeves are too long for you, he can see your thumbs balling up the extra fabric as you crawl onto the surprisingly soft duvet next to him. You make a clear effort not to touch him.

“Is this what you’re being weird about?”

“No.”

“Becuase I trust you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then why do you look like I’ve just told you Robin sucks.”

He shrugs. There’s no use in lying when you’re looking right at him. He deflects instead.

“Can we…” he grapples at the nightstand for a remote. “Can we just watch a movie and go to bed? I’m just tired, I swear.”

You worry at your bottom lip for a minute, hands fidgetting in your lap. “Sure.”

He’s still wide awake after you fall asleep. You’d tucked yourself into a ball at the edge of the bed and he can’t help but feel incredibly guilty as he stares wistfully at you. He tugs you to the middle of the bed by your pillow, falls into slumber with one knuckle grazing your cheek and his heart wrenching behind his ribs.

Tim wakes with a mouthful of hair and a lungful of your perfume. Your body’s a furnace against him, the heat a welcome gift in the frigidness of the room. He clings closer to you while he can. Your breaths are slow and even inhales and exhales, your mouth open and blowing air against his neck. There’s no other place in the world he’d rather be in the moment. He would hope for a thousand snowstorms if it meant he could wake up with you wrapped around him like a koala.

“I wish you would remember,” he confesses to the room. “I wish I could just say it, Y/N. You deserve to hear me say it.”

There’s something explicitly gratifying in knowing you can’t hear him. Courage fills his chest, shines out his every pore like blessed moonlight. 

“I’m sorry for being shitty, he says and he realizes that holding you feels like coming home. It feels like everything he’s been missing. “I want to kiss you again.”

And he’s near shocked to death when your head raises and you drop a sleepy, soft kiss to his chin. Another to his cheek when he makes a choked sound of shock.

“I’ll kiss if you promise to let me sleep.”

He nods, dumbfounded.

You close the inches, letting your nose brush delicately over his. Your hands find his heartbeat, your fingers anchoring him to the world as your lips ghost over his. He presses his lips to yours in a jolt of lingering bravery and you grin, sweet and careful.