#and that simple faith moves Scrooge

[delicatefury]

Yet another reason why The Muppet Christmas Carol is the superior adaptation.

While they do not say His name directly, there is no doubt who Tiny Tim wishes to remind the people of at church, and whose blessing the Cratchits ask for.

I hate when A Christmas Carol type stories pretend that the "Christmas spirit" Scrooge needs to develop is "liking Christmas" and not "being kind and generous and caring about the welfare of other people".

This is a subset of my annoyance toward the Christmas movies that pretend Christmas is a magic time of year where we love each other and come together as family because....reasons...that mostly involve snow and trees and presents. But it's a particularly annoying one because even when adapting a mostly secularized plot, people still manage to miss the point of the Christmas message.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Imagine.

It's December. You and your new husband were currently in America.

The worst country in the damn world according to Grindelwald's opinion.

Rude, lazy, unhealthy and ungroomed. Especially the men.

The handsome former Dark Wizard raised a silver brow. Maybe you never fell in love or slept with anyone before him not because of your young age but you had bad or no options. He would have pitied you if he didn't love you. But, he inwardly smiled.

The memory when he first fucked you last year before he kidnapped you was his favorite life memory yet. He thought his childhood memories when his mother was alive was his best. You replaced them.

He didn't care about your chastity. But, when he saw the blood evidence. He was not smug but actually happy that he had the honor of pleasuring you the first time. You tried to ignore the ecstasy because a man you never seen in your life rape you.

He came back and then kidnapped you and eventually apologized and begged for your forgiveness and hand in marriage.

Here you were. In your homeland after almost two long years.

Christmas shopping in America.

Grindelwald was the wealthiest man alive so far. But, he was annoyed that storekeepers hoarded their best items in one time.

He hated fuckin' crowds.

But, he damaged you and you sacrificed a lot for him. So, he should not whine like a pussy and man up. And sacrifice for his love for you.

He held your hand and peeked to the side of his small wrinkled eyes to see young men half his age ogling at you and burning him with glares.

He smirked at them by their obvious jealousy and he clutched your hand tighter as he walked around the mall.

There was a lingerie store you walked into. Gellert obviously didn't want to go. He was a faithful man to you and he didn't want the wrong attention from other women. So, he kissed your forehead before he separated from you.

He saw a jewelry department and went inside. The items were simple bland and boring. He rolled his eyes. No taste or color. But there was one item that was perhaps ancient European jewelry.

Gellert raised a brow. He pointed at that necklace

"Sir. This item was never sold since 18 years. This is the most expensive jewelry here."

Gellert turned to the man so he can see his silk suit and leather loafers

The employee apologized.

He met you when you came out.

He kissed you hard Infront of the other shoppers when he met you again. Earning more yearning looks from the men.

Perhaps even minor boys. They wish they had that kind of life with their girlfriends or crush. Ideal couple.

"Did you bought a present for your friends?" You smiled at him.

Gellert nodded as he carried your bags. He would give envelope of cash to Dumbledore. Better than giving him a useless gift.

"Even his brother?"

Tch. Gellert knew his best friend's brother hated him and his son Credence.

"It's Christmas scrooge." Your soft warm fingers traced his handsome jawline.

He caught your hand and pressed it to his lips before he settled you to sit in the passenger seat of the expensive car he rented when you two arrived here.

"Bah Humbug."

At least he is away from that American mall. That stupid song of all I want for Christmas is you was eating him alive.

Gellert was doing some gym work out at the place which was not far from his office.

Since he made you move in with him before marrying you. He became much more active in gym. Like he became young and energetic. He did more heavy weight lifting and even cardio.

His employers complimented his muscle gains.

It was because he loved the lustful stares you gave him when he was naked. You didn't want to thirst over your kidnapper and rapist. But, it was impossible to resist.

His ego soared and it happened. Grindelwald researched to improve his eight packs and biceps. Those were your favorites.

You of course loved his legs and chest but they're not your number one.

Ironic. Grindelwald loved doing leg training and chest building presses best.

Oh, well. Gellert would do anything to make you attracted to him. It was more than fair. You were confused and scared why a random guy barged into your house and fucked the shit out of you then kidnapped you months later.

He owes you that much for almost ruining your life and traumatizing you. It was his way of making it up and apologizing to you.

While he was doing extreme crunches. He heard a notification on his cell phone. He would silence all calls and text when doing gym. He put your messages a priority. It was from you. He didn't feel annoyed if you interrupted him.

He was excited.

His eyes widened to see you laying down and wearing a scantly clad outfit.

Americans always sexualized everything.

He put on a shirt over his bare upper body and quickly left the gym without even bothering to dress up not caring for the stares outside.

You have been on the naughty list for being a teasing little minx.

Daddy will have to put you in your place by taming your spoiled attitude.

[watch-talk-fixate]

The Humility of Family and Being a Hero: A Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard Analysis.

Special thanks to @stoopakoopa @mighty-ant @drakepad because they inspired me.

Ducktales 2017. A show that a lot of people saw a simple cash grab and the exploitation of nostalgia of 80s and 90s kids alike. But it was a true surprise. A show of adventure and family and exploring yourself in the family name. This show brought so many characters from the golden age of Disney Channel called “The Disney Afternoon Era” with faces from shows like: Gizmoduck, Talespin, Goof Troop and Darkwing Duck. 

The whole concept of Darkwing Duck is quite silly really. A parody of Batman, superhero tropes and even James Bond but with a duck in the suburbs of the fictional city of Saint Canard living with his boyfriend sidekick Launchpad and his adopted daughter Gosalyn. As someone who watched the show in reruns back in the day and recently rewatched it on Disney Plus, I didn’t think I would have appreciated this show as much as I thought I would. Dry and witty humor that caught me off guard and it truly doesn’t seem as dated as other shows from those times. 

But I’m here to talk about Drake Mallard and what it means to be a superhero and a parent. 

(For the sake of the analysis, I will be referring to Drake Mallard from the Ducktales 2017 reboot as “Drake Mallard!17” and the Drake Mallard from the OG Darkwing Duck show as “Drake Mallard!91”.)

Ducktales 2017 for a long time was alluring to bringing Darkwing Duck into the universe of the show. Many fans didn't know how this was possible until a certain episode that was the rise of another superhero and Darkwing Duck’s long time rival: Gizmoduck (now voiced by the guy who wrote a Broadway musical that won many awards-- Bring It On the Musical. I’m kidding. Lin Manuel Miranda). In the episode ‘The BUDDY System’ we are shown what looks like a fight scene between Darkwing Duck and his villains, MegaVolt and QuackerJack. But then it’s abruptly cut when it’s revealed to be a video. An episode. Launchpad explains to Dewey (the blue duck nephew of Donald Duck) that Darkwing Duck is his favorite TV show’ meaning that Darkwing Duck is a TV show in the Ducktales 2017 universe. A show inside a show. 

Weird, right? 

But what does this have to do with being a superhero and a parent and how family humbles you? Well, in the OG Darkwing Duck show the character of Drake Mallard is shown to be a late-20s to early-40s nobody in his two-parter episode debut-- “Darkly Dawns the Duck”-- who spends his days locked inside an abandoned bridge tower and out fighting small-time crime at night as a purple masked weirdo. And I say this in the kindest way ever but Drake Mallard!91 is an asshole. It’s later revealed in the show that he wanted to be a superhero not because he wanted to protect the people in his city -- that is a parody of Batman’s Gotham -- but because he wanted the praise and attention of being a hero. He’s a hero for a selfish reason. 

But how is it possible to have an asshole for a main character that lasted 91 episodes? Drake Mallard!91 has a child. It isn’t his biological daughter really but she is his daughter. In his two-parter episode his first real ‘save’ is the granddaughter of a scientist that was murdered by the mafia and now they are after the granddaughter because she has the code for a machine that they are going to use to rob banks and release mayhem across the world. Darkwing Duck!91 goes to save her and they start to have a bond that makes my daddy issues burst into tears. 

Hiding her in his secret hide-out, she isn’t comfortable and Gosalyn needs to sleep so as a way to calm her down he sings her dead grandfather’s lullaby to her. I won’t reveal the rest of the episode or the “plot twist”(?) because I think it’s a cute episode. But here we see that Drake Mallard!91 does have the ability to care about others that isn’t himself or his reputation. 

At the end of the episode, he goes out of his way to adopt Gosalyn and officially makes her his daughter. Throughout the series, you see that Drake Mallard!91 bonds with Gosalyn. Taking her to school, talking to her about emotional things, and doing everything in his power to protect her from the harm that comes with him being a superhero. But in one of my favorite episodes “Toys R Czar”, Drake Mallard!91 has come to the conclusion that he can’t both be a hero and great parent after one of Gosalyn’s teachers points out that she has been causing a lot of issues at school. He blames himself for not being a good parent, reading parenting books and following them to the letter. Cleaning, baking cookies and even being the director for a play where he made Gosalyn the star. 

He gives up being Darkwing Duck. He gives up the one thing that he worked so hard and was so proud of. Drake Mallard!91 put his ego aside to be a good parent and was ready to throw away his cape and pick up an actual job to raise Gosalyn. He did the toughest thing about being a hero, a figure of salvation: having a family. 

I think that the reason that I enjoyed the OG Darkwing Duck a lot despite me being a bitch to the pain character’s ego and pride was that yes, he would probably be a terrible parent but he has Gosalyn and Launchpad to guide him. He has them to ground him and not let his ego overrun him into believing he’s such a big-shot hero because he stops supervillains with only a gas gun, smoke bombs and a purple mask. His family makes him human-- despite him being a duck. 

Now moving onto Ducktales 2017. In the episode ‘The BUDDY System’ when Launchpad is telling Dewey about Darkwing Duck being his favorite TV show and growing up on it he mentions an actor’s name: Jim Starling. 

Jim Starling plays Darkwing Duck. Remember that. 

(Fun Fact: the actor who voices the OG Darkwing Duck/Drake Mallard!91 does the voice of Jim Starling.) 

In my favorite and comfort episode “The Duck Knight Rises” we are shown that Jim Starling has suffered the same fate of Bo Jack Horseman: a washed out actor from the 80s/90s that is living on the steam of his former success. Jim is no longer as popular as he was back in the day, making money off of signing autographs and openings of less-than-desirable stores. It isn’t until Dewey mentions the fact that there is a Darkwing Duck Movie ready to release that we see Jim Starling happy and ready to jump back into the role. 

The Role of a Hero. 

We discover that Scrooge McDuck is the one producing the movie and after watching the trailer both Launchpad and Jim Starling agree that this isn’t faithful to the character. Yet Jim doesn’t really care, he wants to be back into the light and have the attention and adoration of an actor. Of being a hero. How very of Drake Mallard!91 of him. 

The director of the Duck Knight Rises movie tells Jim that he isn’t playing Darkwing Duck. A younger actor is. Outraged, he attacks the actor and is kicked out alongside Launchpad. Jim Starling believes that he is owed this role. That this role only belongs to him and no one else in the world. Roping Launchpad into his plan, here we see that Jim Starling never truly let go of his past when he slips on his old Darkwing Duck costume to play hero again. 

It is Launchpad that begins to question him when Jim starts to ramble about revenge, Launchpad still looking at his old idol with nostalgia tinted glasses and goes along with the plan. 

Here is where the analysis begins to pick up again. When LP sneaks into the actor’s trailer and immediately panics, locking himself, the Actor comes to his rescue. After some light fighting we see that the Actor is a big fan of the Darkwing Duck; possibly bigger than LP himself. LP does have a connection with the show but it seems that he Actor here takes it up more personally. That his whole ideologies and all of his morals came from a silly little show from his childhood and is the reason he is the way he is today. This whole movie is his big shot and a dream come true. 

Immediately after this, we see Jim Starling running around and knocking people out. Actually hurting people just to get back into the role he’s clinging on to. Paralleling the Actor’s acceptance of the role and Jim ready to draw blood because he can’t let go. 

Finally, we see the Actor and Jim Starling have a “sane” interaction. That it’s a huge honor to be here with him, says the Actor. That he wants to play the role of Darkwing Duck with Jim’s blessing. That they can do this together. 

But Jim wants this for his own. All for himself. 

After knocking the Actor out, we see a glimpse of how gone he is. How attention thirsty he is and that he will literally stop at nothing to get back on screen. 

The whole climatic fight of the episode is the Actor putting on his new Darkwing Duck costume and heading off face first into danger to save people as Jim Starling just snaps. The new confronts the old. With the trademark, goofy Darkwing Duck openings of I am the terror that flaps in the night but more modern. 

As they fight, it’s LP that finally gets to Jim with him telling him how much Darkwing Duck means to him and what it means to be a hero like him. As a power beam prop is ready to fall on top of LP, Jim does what a hero is supposed to do. Sacrifice. By pushing his biggest fan out of the way, he completes the role he has been yearning to play. 

They don’t find the body. (Yes this is a kids show). But here is where we learn that the Actor’s name is Drake Mallard. 

Drake Mallard!17. 

Launchpad is the one that convinces Drake Mallard!17 to be the true Darkwing Duck. For Jim. 

Jim Starling is what the OG Darkwing Duck was. Egotistical, wanting fame and attention, having all of the qualities that would make anyone doubt that he is truly a hero. The thing is that if Jim Starling only played Darkwing Duck, not Drake Mallard (because in this universe he is a real person), then it means that he didn’t have a Launchpad or a Gosalyn to ground him. Jim Starlings is what happens when a hero is isolated and is only a hero and not a person. 

Drake Mallard!17 is a person who becomes a hero while Jim Starling is an actor who pretended to be a hero. Jim was stuck in his own vanity, not having anyone truly reminding him that he isn't’ the roles he plays; that he isn’t Darkwing Duck. 

Drake Mallard is Darkwing Duck.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch25: Keep it Simple

Chapter Summary: The events of Boston behind them, Frank, Fliss and Mary look forward to Christmas…and Frank has a big surprise planned. 

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut…NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!!

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

 A/N: So here it is, the last in the series Riding High. Thank you to everyone who has helped and re-blogged and commended in any way. Do not fear, Frank and Fliss will be back in the next instalment of their adventure Riding On

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 24

If you should ever leave me, thought life would still go on, believe me, the world could show nothing to me, so what good would living do me? God only knows what I’d be without you…

"Mary can you just hold on a second, please!" Frank sighed, grabbing the back of her coat to stop her shooting off into the crowd that streamed down the busy Manhattan sidewalk. "But Frank!" she turned and looked at him, her woollen hat jammed down over her ears "I just wanna see the stall!" "Yeah but you can't just run off!" He grumbled and beside him Fliss gave a chuckle. He turned to look at her "who gets so excited about damned wooden tree ornaments?" "Oh hush!" Fliss leaned up to give him a pack, her cold nose brushing his. In retaliation he pulled the front of her baby blue sparkly bobble hat down over her eye and she shoved him in the chest, laughing. "Fuck you!" "Chance would be a fine thing" he grumbled, taking Fliss’ hand as they headed after Mary. "Awww is that why you're grumpy?" Fliss grinned as they walked "Coz you haven't had any in nearly 3 days?" Frank pouted "No." "Liar..." "Ok, look...Frankie has needs..." he whined "I completely over looked the fact hanging out with an 8 year old in the room would be a cock block." "Always the shower..." Fliss teased and Frank snorted. "Yeah, right. Can you imagine? I give it 3 minutes before she came looking for us." "We go home tomorrow. I'll make it up to you then." Fliss grinned and he sighed. "What?" She laughed. "It’s just...you look so hot in all this winter clothing." Frank grinned. And he meant it. Seeing her wrapped up in a coat, hat and scarf had made her look all cute and cozy...and it had done inappropriate things to him for some odd reason. "Hmmm, you know most men get more turned on the less clothing their girls wear." She teased and he grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm not most men" She gave him a smile which he returned with a soft kiss as they stopped by the stall where Mary instantly dived into looking at the array of ornaments. After a few moments of looking she handed Frank one in the shape of a reindeer stag, and a doe for him and Fliss before selecting a robin for herself. "I think they're so pretty." She looked at the bird in her hand "I saw one at Evelyn's over thanks giving." "Ever heard the saying robins appear when loved ones are near?" Fliss asked. Mary shook her head. "No" "Well, I don't know about here but certainly in England we say it because there is an old belief by some people that a robin is a message from heaven, that a loved one is watching over you." "Do you believe that?" Mary looked at Fliss. Fliss hesitated "Well when my Dad's dad died I was 20 and I remember getting up the morning after he died and there was a robin on the fence of the back garden. Bill told me it was my granddad Alex come to check I was ok." "Do you think it was? Really I mean?" "I dunno sweetheart." Fliss sighed "I'd like it to be true..." "Then you should believe it was." Mary said, looking at her "Because isn't that what faith is? Believing something you want to be true?" Fliss looked at Frank who smiled and gave a small shake of his head. She turned back to Mary, smiling softly as she dropped a hand to the back of her head. This kid was unbelievably wise, but with such an innocence behind it all. "Yeah, I suppose it is." Fliss nodded. "Do you think the robin I saw could have been my mom?" She asked, her eyes wide. Frank at that point stepped in, carefully picking an answer that was ambiguous so as not to say yes, but also not dampening her spirits. "If your mom could I'm sure she would come and see you, make sure you're ok." Mary gave a nod, before she turned back to the stall, her attention back on the ornaments. "We need a dog for Thor, and a cat for Fred oh...and a pony for Monty." "What about Cap and Heidi?" Fliss asked, moving to inspect the selection of decorations. "Oh, yeah!" "This is gonna bankrupt me." Frank grumbled, his hands on Fliss' hips, chin resting on her shoulder as he observed the two of them. "Scrooge" Fliss shot back with a smile "Do you think Verity and Bill will like this one?" Mary held up a snowman. "Absolutely" Fliss nodded. "And can I get one for Evelyn?" She asked, selecting a snowflake. Despite the fact that they were now well into the fifty buck range for fucking tree decorations, Frank couldn't help but want to smile at Marys face. She was so thoughtful, the purity behind it all was, as usual, humbling. So he nodded "Sure she will appreciate it." He smiled. He moved to lift her up so she could hand the ones they had picked over to the guy behind the counter who asked Mary what names she wanted on each one. As she told him, he allowed her to sit up on the edge of the little surface, held in place by Frank to watch as he burnt the names into each ornament before he bagged them up and she took them with a thanks. "Our first family tree stuff!" Mary grinned and Fliss smiled, bending down to give her a hug. They set back off towards the hotel, stopping by a burger joint for dinner before they dumped their bags and returned back out for their final evening in the City. Frank had loved every second of their trip, and so had Mary and Fliss. Seeing Mary's reaction to snow and the Christmas lights had been amazing, along with all the bands on street corners, people walking around dressed up. It was magical and he wasn't afraid to let his inner child come out to play either, as Fliss had just found out. "Whose idea was this again?" He asked as Mary was bouncing up and down in the queue. "Yours!" Fliss scoffed as he took Mary's hand in his right "I seem to recall the very visible horror on your face yesterday when I told you I'd never done it before..." "That’s because it's an abomination that someone who's 34 has never been ice skating." "I was a professional athlete." She shrugged "I was banned from doing anything deemed dangerous " Frank looked at her "What do they consider more dangerous than flying a half tonne animal almost 2 meters into the air?" "Bungee jumping, sky diving, jet skiing, water skiing, ice skating.." Fliss shrugged "just to name 5" Frank shook his head as the queue shuffled forward a little. It wasn't too long now, luckily they had timed it right by arriving 20 minutes or so before the next lot of General Admission to the famous Rockefeller rink opened so there weren't too many people ahead. After another 10 minutes they got to the front and Frank nudged Fliss out of the way as she tried to pay. She scowled at him and he simply rolled his eyes and handed his card over. It wasn't cheap but then, he was in New York. What was? Together they headed onto the ice. Frank, having done it a few times as a kid found his legs fairly quickly and didn't stop himself laughing as Mary's completely went from under her and she landed with a thump on her ass. "Here..." he chuckled, offering her his hand. He pulled her up and moved her in front of him. "Give me your hands..." Mary extended her arms to the side and he took her mitten clad hands in his, holding her in front of him. Fliss was moving tentatively behind him, using the sides for support a little. "Ok slide your right foot forward, like on your roller skates..." Frank said. Mary did as she was told "now left...right...left...right..." He continued his chanting and glanced over his shoulder to see Fliss was concentrating on her feet, her tongue poking out slightly. "You good?" "Yup." She said, raising her hand to give him a thumbs up before she skidded slightly and went down in a tangle of limbs. Letting out a laugh he gently pivoted Mary so she could hold onto the side and offered Fliss his hand. Pulling her up into his arms he held her steady for a moment whilst her laughing subsided. He watched her for a second, her face creasing up into those adorable dimples, eyes crinkled so much they were almost shut and her shoulders shook with the force of her giggles. "I fuckin' love you..." he grinned and she smiled at him. "Back at ya sailor" After another few laps Mary and Fliss had managed to get the hand of it which meant Frank could leave them a little bit as he went off for what he called a proper skate. The girls watched calling him a show off as he crossed his feet and turned, skating backwards a little. Both of them debated sabotaging him and tripping him up but they decided not to, instead they simply pretended they didn't know him, resulting in him grabbing Fliss from behind just beneath the large tree, and spinning her round to face him. "Can I help you?" She teased and he gave a snort. "Yeah, you can... Mary?" He called to her where she was trying to perfect a turn and failing as she almost stumbled again. She looked up and headed over. "Can you take our photo?" "Only if you're gonna kiss..." she replied, making smooching noises. "Well we can’t disappoint her..." Frank shrugged and Fliss grinned, her smile turning into a shriek as Frank quickly grabbed her hips before he took one hand, keeping the other round her back and dipped her so she was bending backwards, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips. She laughed against his mouth as he gave her a wink, before kissing her a little deeper and then setting her upright, his eyes boring into hers which were shining in the Christmas lights surrounding the rink. "Oh that was great!" Mary howled and he turned to face her as she handed his phone back. Frank checked the photo and had to smile, it was a dammed good shot. He showed it to Fliss and she beamed. "A framer?" She asked. "A framer." He agreed. It took them ages to get Mary to finally leave the rink. Even a bribe of hot chocolate, marshmallows and cookies wasn't doing it. Eventually Frank put his foot down and told her it was time to go as it was almost 9pm and they still had that tree to go see before they headed to Central Park for one last walk in the lights. After handing their skates back and retrieving their belongings from the lockers they followed the path to the tree. As they round the corner Mary gasped. "It's huge!" She turned to look at Frank and Fliss, her eyes wide "Oh my God!" Frank smiled kissed Fliss' cheek as Mary walked slightly ahead of them down the walkway that was flanked with smaller trees and the famous lit up trumpeting angels . As they caught her up he slipped his spare hand in his pocket, his fingers curling round the small, leather box inside. The damned thing had been burning a hole in his pocket since he had bought it in Boston just after Thanksgiving. Fliss, Verity and Bill had all stayed for a very pleasant week rounded off with a damned good proper Thanksgiving dinner and the three of them had flown home on the Friday, as Fliss was starting to stress about her business. He and Mary followed on the Sunday after she had been given the all clear to fly after a week’s check up at the Hospital. On his spare afternoon, he'd taken a trip into the city with one goal, and it had been surprisingly easy. The first jeweller he has walked into had a perfect ring, and despite the fact he had visited several others none of them caught his eye like that. So he had gone back and asked the assistant for a closer look. It wasn't a huge rock, white gold and emerald cut with in a pave setting, but everything about it had screamed Fliss. It was delicate and feminine but with a wonderful sparkle just like her. He knew that sounded so lame when he had told the assistant but she has just smiled and told him that if he had that much conviction, it must be right. He had been lost when she asked him what size, but in a sudden inspiration he had remembered the Pandora ring he had bought her when he had gotten his first new pay check as supervisor. He mentioned this to the assistant who beamed and said she could easily size it from that by using a simple conversion chart and told him to come back the following day. His sudden good spirit had fallen as he explained he couldn't do and asked her to see if here was anything she could do, even contemplating taking it and having it sizes back in Florida. But, after the shitty run of events over the last week, his luck was in after she returned 5 minutes later with a slip of paper, informing him it would be ready by the end of the day. When he had told Mary he was going to ask Fliss to marry him, she'd been so excited. She'd asked when, where and when he said he didn’t know she'd given him the most exasperated look on the planet. The only one of his friend who he had confided in, Greg, hadn’t been much help either, simply telling him to do it in a way that meant something to them both. Simply put he just hadn't a fucking clue. He had agonized over how to pop the question. On the boat? Or maybe a sunset on their favourite spot at St Pete's beach? Did he wait for New York? As such, Frank had taken to carrying the ring around with him, waiting for that moment when it felt right. So far it hadn't happened at home and as it stood New York wasn’t faring any better. He had thought about it at the top of the Empire state, but it had been too busy. Then there was a moment in Central Park after they had been snowman building that might have worked...until Fliss had nailed him in the face with a snowball. So they'd had a snowball fight instead. Then when walking over Brooklyn Bridge, the skyline behind them… then when they walked back to the Hotel after seeing the Lion King on Broadway, going the long way round to see the display in Macy's window all lit up...and then that moment before when Mary had taken a picture of them kissing under the tree on the ice rink... but none of it felt right. It didn't feel like the moment for them. But now something stirred in his gut. This could be it. It wasn't too busy, the place was gorgeous, right in front of the tree Fliss had been so desperate to see... Ok Adler, you can do this. Taking a deep breath he pulled the box from his pocket when he heard Mary give a squeal. "Oh...wow! Frankie look..." Fliss' voice was a whisper and she nudged him, pointing to the base of the tree. He followed her gaze to see a blonde haired man down on one knee, presenting a ring to a dark haired woman who had her hands clasped over her mouth. Frank slipped the box back into his pocket and stared at the man as he placed the ring onto his now fiancés finger and did his best to look like he cared when Fliss let out a soft "Awwww" The man looked around excitedly, his eyes falling on the three of them before he asked Frank if he or Fliss would mind taking a photo for them. "Course not buddy, congratulations." Frank smiled. Fucking prick... ***** "It was AMAZING!" Mary gushed to Verity as they walked to the car, Fliss' parents having come to pick them up from the airport. "we saw so much stuff but nowhere near all of it but Frank said we could go back next year in the summer maybe and do a bit more." "Looks like someone else had a good time too." Bill smiled, nodding to Fliss who let out a loud yawn. Frank chuckled "She was up all night, I told her not to have more food so close to bed time." "I wanted a hot dog and a pretzel." Fliss mumbled, "Besides, it's nothing to do with the food...we did a lot of walking." Bill gave a snort "You ride horses for a living, you should be fit enough to walk round New York" "I probably skated about 4 miles too..." Fliss said looking at Mary "Someone wouldn't come off the ice rink" "You been sleeping ok otherwise?" Verity looked at her "I'm fine mum." She smiled "No anxiety?" 'V, she said she's fine so leave it" Bill said gently and Fliss shot a grateful look at her dad. She knew her mum was only concerned but she was fed up of assuring people she was fine. After the attack from John she had suffered a bout of delayed shock which had manifested in a few panic attacks, nightmares, and restlessness at night and on one occasion nausea. Luckily Frank had been brilliant at keeping calm when she had an episode, helping her work through it and the last incident she had suffered had been over a week ago. Once they were all in the car, Frank took the passenger seat after Verity offered it to him, Mary continued to chat all the drive home about New York, Fliss and Frank butting in here and there. They arrived home little after 30 minutes later and Fliss headed up the steps with Mary, Thor almost sending the pair of them flying when they opened the door. "Oh puppy I missed you!" Fliss smiled as she gave him plenty of attention and he kept licking her face, whining and emitting quiet little barks. "Did you miss me? Did you?" "Yerress" Frank did his best Scooby Doo impression as he walked past and Fliss let out a laugh, as she stood up and headed into the living room behind Mary, bumping into the girl as she stopped dead, giving a squeal as she saw the Christmas Tree in the corner. "Mum, Dad?" Fliss called, smiling "I take it you did this?" Frank appeared behind them both, smiling as Fliss and Mary exchanged a glance before they all turned to Bill and Verity who were stood in the doorway. "Well we know how much you like to get your tree up as early as you can and, well we were picking one up for ourselves so we got you one. You don’t mind do you?" Verity, looked at Fliss then Frank. "No, of course not!" Fliss grinned. "Saved me a job." Frank nodded "Thanks guys." "Can we decorate it tonight?" Mary asked "Pleeeeeeeaaaasssseee Frank!" Frank glanced at his watch before giving a sigh, he knew she wouldn't go to bed if he said no anyway so what was the point? Plus she was at the University tomorrow which didn’t start until 10 so... "Ok, but if you so much as grumble tomorrow morning when I get you up you'll be in deep trouble." He looked at her sternly as she stooped to pick Fred up. "Cross my heart, hope to die, we all know Fred's got one eye..." she chanted off, nodding. "We brought your box of decorations from the annex." Verity smiled at Fliss, nodding to the box on the floor. "We thought you could pick what you want to keep now you're combining."

“Speaking of decorations…” Frank said, looking at Mary.

“Oh…yeah…hang on…” She said, running to the sofa where she had dumped her little pink rucksack. She fished out the paper bag they had gotten from the stall and found the Snowman they had bought. With a smile she handed it to Verity who looked down at it, her face curling into a smile as her eyes started to prick with tears.

“Fliss said you wouldn’t mind the names Mary wanted on them.” Frank said, watching carefully.

“Of course we don’t mind!” Bill smiled, picking Mary up to give her a hug “We are Nanny V and Poppa B ain’t that right kiddo?” “Yep!” she grinned, hugging him.

“We’ll save it to hang tomorrow when you come over after school.” Verity said as Bill set Mary on the floor and she hugged her tightly.

After a little more chat Verity and Bill left and Frank instructed Mary to change into her Pyjamas before they did the tree. Deciding that was a good idea, Fliss did the same and before long they were all in the living room. Fliss and Mary going through the boxes of decorations, Frank wrestling with the tangle of fairy lights. How they managed to get so fucking knotted up after simply being in a box for 12 months was beyond him.

He had just about managed it when Thor came over to inspect what he was doing, and dropped straight onto his back on top of the string.

“Thor…get out of it…” he grumbled, pushing the dog who simply rolled over, taking half the lights with him, tangling them round his legs and his tails. “Jesus Christ…stand still…for fucks sake…”

Thinking this was a huge game, Thor started to bounce around, barking, and Frank shook his head. “Fliss, sort this mutt out….” Fliss gave a laugh and dropped off the sofa, calling Thor to her. He sat down, allowing Frank to remove the lights before he stood up, shaking them out. Together the 3 of them wound them round the tree before they made a start on the decorations.

“Frank got me this for my first Christmas.” Mary said, hanging a red bauble which had her name on it. “The glitter has all fallen off it now.”

“We can add more if you want.” Fliss looked at her and Mary shrugged.

“I kinda like it.” It didn’t take them long, and their wooden trinkets from New York were the last ones they hung, Mary ensuring they took pride of place. Frank then lifted her up so she could place the star at the top before they stood back.

“Ready for the big turn on?” Frank asked, grinning. Mary and Fliss cheered and began a countdown from 5. When they hit 1 Frank hit the switch and the lights on the tree came to life. He stepped back, looking up at it, his arm curling round Fliss’ shoulder, his other dropping to Mary as she grinned.

“Best Tree ever.” she smiled.

“Yeah, and now it’s time for the best bed ever…” he looked at her.

“Seriously?” Mary complained

“No moaning, remember?” Frank instructed her. “That was in the morning.”

“Well I just extended it to now as well.” he said, shrugging “Because I can, so get…” “Fine, fine, I’m going…” she grumbled. “Night Fliss.” “Night sweetie.” Fliss dropped a kiss to her head before Mary shot a filthy look at Frank who met her with a passive one of his own.

“I’ll be in in a second.” Frank shot after her, watching as she headed down to the hallway. He turned back to Fliss who was watching the tree, a smile on her face.

“Not exactly up to Macey’s standards…” Frank chuckled and she shook her head.

“I love it.” “It looks like an Elf threw up on it.”

“All trees should be like that.” Fliss shrugged, before she gave his cheek a peck. “Now, you go sort Mary and I’ll get us both a beer.” “Actually…” he said, looping his arms round her waist. “I believe there was something else you promised me tonight…” “Oh, yes, of course, Frankie has needs…” she replied with an almost uncanny impersonation, which made him snort. “Does that mean no beer?”

“No beer.” “You want me to wait in bed.” “Yes I do.” he nodded “Go, I’ll let Thor out and lock up.”

Grinning she accepted his kiss and smiled as she turned around, casting him a quite frankly sinful look over her shoulder which almost had him hard right there and then. Not wanting to wait a moment longer he sorted the dog, locked the door, poked his head into Mary’s room to wish her goodnight, and headed into their bedroom. Fliss was hanging her jeans in the closet after having simply discarded them on the bed earlier, and wasting no time Frank pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it to the side before he stepped up behind her, spinning her round to face him. He pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss as he slid his hands down to cup her ass and she smirked into the kiss.

“I like your ass.” he muttered. “I like yours too” she said back, “And your arms”

He laughed and pulled back to look down at her as her fingers trailed up his biceps. “My arms?”

“Yeah, your big, strong arms, and your big, broad shoulders and your stupid, handsome face…” she muttered, pulling him back down to her. In between the dizzying kisses Frank steered her towards the bed, and as her legs collided with the edge he stopped to gently trail kisses across her bare collar bone. His lips found her jaw and then, with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he reached down for her thighs, and grabbing them he pulled them forwards, causing her to fall backwards as he pitched them both onto the bed. As she laughed he chuckled slightly before he kissed her again, and then it was a scramble to get out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell back on top of his girl, his hands pulling up her camisole top, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear before he slid down her shorts, his mouth gently kissing a trail up from her belly through the middle of her breasts, up her neck and finally back to her mouth.

Fliss was utterly lost now, in the usual whirl of love, and lust and passion and kissed him back, hard as his hand gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips of his fingers as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’s eyes rolling back at the exquisite stretch inside. Frank began to move his hips slowly, deeply, his thrusts weren’t measured in the slightest despite the fact he was absolutely aching for her. He wanted to take it slow, end what had been an amazing trip in the same mood it had started in, absolute pure love.

His mouth moved back to Fliss’s neck, nipping gently at her skin and she let out low moan as he picked up the pace ever so slightly, his spare hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close to him as she could possibly be.

“Fuck, Frank, right there…” she groaned as he hit her spot and he smirked slightly, he loved the way she got like this with him, ever so demanding at times, such a far cry from the timid woman he had fallen for the previous year.

“Yeah?” he panted as she gave a soft cry, her body tensing underneath him “Good.” “So good…” she moaned, arching her back. His mouth found hers again and his hand slid from her hip to gently tease her nipple and she rolled her hips to grind up against him, changing the angle slightly causing him to go deeper.

“Lissy…” he panted as he drove into her deeply, slowly, and then again and again, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Every single sense Frank possessed was on fire and he broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against her cheek when he felt her clench around him, a tell-tale sign she was nearing her release. The sheets rustled underneath and around them both as his hips pushed up against hers, and Frank saw Fliss’ head tip back, her throat bared to him in utter bliss as she came hard, her moans soft and breathy into his ear. Frank picked up his pace slightly, chasing his own end as he pushed her through hers, and when he felt that snake in his belly beginning to unravel, he gave a low grunt which morphed into a gasp as he clung to Fliss, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward. Fliss gave a soft chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair, as she moved and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“I know I keep saying it but I really do fuckin’ love you Cowgirl.” he said, voice muffled as his face pressed into her neck.

Fliss gave a chuckle “I’ll never tire of hearing it Sailor. “

He moved to look at her, flashing her a grin before he caught her mouth in a sweet kiss. **** "You still not managed it?" Greg asked as they stood at the bar, waiting for their drinks. Frank sighed and glanced at Fliss who was sat with Bonnie in the booth, the pair of them sniggering at something. "Do you see a ring on her finger?" He looked at Greg. "No" "Well there's your answer." "What's the hold up, man?" Greg frowned. "Nothing has felt right." Frank sighed "she won’t want a huge fuss in front of people so that basically ruled out all of New York...bar one moment when I thought it was time, in front of the tree at Rockefeller...and then some douchebag went and beat me to it, proposing to his girl whilst we watched..." "You're over thinking it." Greg said, looking at Frank "Take a step back. When are the pair of you at your best? The time you enjoy most, I mean" "Honestly?" Frank shrugged "at night when Mary's gone to bed and we finally sit down and just watch TV or joke around." "Well there you go." Greg shrugged "What, at home?" Frank frowned "Why not?" Greg looked at him "the point isn't to be showy or flashy but to show her you wanna spend the rest of your life with her." Frank pondered this for a moment. Greg has a point. They were at their happiest doing the simple things, spending quiet time together, being fucking normal. Fliss loved it when they curled up and Frank would simply cuddle her close and kiss her head, easy signs of affection that she had craved all through her wreck of a marriage. And Frank loved it too, because it made him feel grounded, time for him to simply be Frank in his own right, the very thing he used to use his Friday night drinking sessions for. Now he could feel it every night, thanks to Lissy…

And then, suddenly an idea came to him, out of nowhere.

Oh, it was perfect! "Greg..." he smiled, slapping the man on the back "you are a genius." "Glad I could be of service." Greg smirked "This means I get best man duty, right?"

Frank smirked at him, shrugging, not giving anything away. His eyes flicked back to Fliss who had now stood up, Simon having returned to the table sliding in next to Bonnie. Frank’s eyes travelled up her bare legs, from her high-heels up to the short little pink playsuit she was wearing, which was printed with black palm trees and other patterns, the small straps settling on her tanned shoulders, the front showing him just enough cleavage. She was wearing a black butterfly necklace that she had bought in New York and her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders in soft curls. Her brown eyes locked onto his and he smiled as he remembered the last Circle Of Truth Christmas outing the previous year, when he had told her he loved her for the first time. And here they were, now 5 days away from their second Christmas together.

“Hey beautiful” he smiled as she reached his side. His arm curled round her and he pressed a kiss to her cheek “You ok?” “Yeah, just thirsty.” she smiled. “Can I get a water as well as my gin please?”

“Sure…” he turned to look at the bar tender who was pulling their drinks together. Once he had attracted his attention and added a bottle of water to the order he turned back to her as Greg spoke up.

“Frank said you enjoyed New York.” “Oh, it was fantastic.” she smiled “Every bit as magical as I thought it was going to be.”

“Good, I’m glad you all had a good time.” Greg smiled “You deserved it after everything that went down.” “Yeah well, he’s banged up now. His brother is going to go down for Endangerment or whatever it is you call it, its’ done, it’s over.” Fliss smiled, “We got the rest of our lives ahead of us now.” “Well, if that doesn’t call for shots then I don’t know what does…” Greg smirked as the bar tender placed their drinks in front of them.

“No, Greg…” Fliss started to protest but Greg cut her off.

“Yes Greg!” he smirked, turning to the bar tender, “Can I get a bottle of Tequila pal and 8 glasses.” Fliss groaned “I’m teaching at 9 am!”

“Dumbass…” Greg looked at her and Frank gave a snort.

“I told you to switch them out…”

“I can’t!” she pouted “I already did for Boston and New York…” “Well…” Greg smirked as the bar tender set the bottle and glasses down in front of him “Looks like you’re doing it with a hangover honey.” “Fuck my life…” **** Fuck my life indeed. Fliss spent the following morning throwing up, groaning once more that she was never drinking tequila EVER again. Frank reminded her of how many times she had said that over the time he had known her and she’d simply let out a huge fake sob and thrown herself face down on the bed again declaring that she didn’t want to adult anymore as it sucked.

The days before Christmas passed in the usual chaos. Presents were wrapped and stashed under the tree, more drinks were had with Friends. Evelyn visited for a few days, which had actually almost pleased Frank a little. She wasn’t staying for Christmas, her arrangements having already been made, but she had hinted that maybe next year she could, to which Frank and Fliss had both agreed. She had been taken with Mary’s gift to her and had laughed out loud when Bill and Verity had presented her with a case of Malbec, the same Malbec she’d smashed a bottle of over John’s head. Her gifts to them both had been a substantial chunk of money, in the thousands, and when Frank had protested at the amount on the cheque she had waved it off as 8 years of owed presents. Mary’s was wrapped so it was placed under the tree for Christmas morning. Evelyn headed back to Boston on the morning of Christmas Eve, Frank and Mary driving her to the airport instead of her driver, where they had both bid her a Happy Christmas and waved her goodbye as she headed off to spend it with her friends in Newton.

After the final preparations were made Frank, Fliss and Mary collapsed onto the sofa for a Marathon of Christmas Films. Mary was, as usual, excited and the copious amounts of chocolate and candy she was shovelling down weren’t helping either, but what the hell, it was Christmas after all.

"You ok?" Frank glanced at Fliss as she sat on the other side of the couch. Love Actually was playing, the final film of the evening before Mary went to bed. Fliss, however didn't look like she was paying attention. "Huh?" She looked at him, blinking. "I said are you ok? You look like you were miles away"

“Yeah, sorry, I was errr…just running through things in my head, making sure nothing was forgotten.” Frank smiled. They were hosting Verity and Bill tomorrow as Steven and his family were at his wife’s parents for this year, flying out instead of the 28th to spend New Year’s with them all. Fliss had asked Frank if they could host, as she’d never had the chance to do that before and of course he had agreed, not least because of the excited look on her face when she had asked.

“The table is set, food and everything is ready to go…” he chuckled, looking at her “Just relax…”

He reached round Mary, his hand gently rubbing at Fliss’ back and she smiled at him, turning her attention to the TV.

20 minutes or so later the film finished and Mary jumped up, grabbing Frank’s hand to make him dance to God Only Knows as the final closing scenes played out. He smiled and picked her up, resting her on his hip as he twirled her round to the song, the pair of them laughing before he eventually dropped her down and told her it was bed time. She scooted off, Fred trotting behind her, his tail swishing as she skipped and Frank headed in about 5 minutes later to tuck her in, before he came back to the living room.

“She wants you to go and say goodnight.” he smiled,

Fliss nodded and stood up.

“You sure you’re ok?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m just tired.” she assured him. Giving him a kiss she headed up the hall and Frank watched her go before he smiled to himself, and set about quickly putting the last touches to his plan.

She came back about 10 minutes later and he smiled at her as she walked into the room.

“OK, now she’s out of the way…I got something for you...” Frank smiled.

Fliss looked at him before she shook her head, chuckling a little “I got something for you too…Frank, I have-” “Me first.” Frank cut her off.

She looked at him for a second, his bright blue eyes were shining as he grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” she smiled, “Ok, you first.” He grinned and then folded his arms “You gotta find it.” “What?”

“It’s hidden, on the tree, and you gotta find it.” Her face lit up as she gave a laugh “You are such a dork!” “Yeah, I know…” Narrowing her eyes playfully she moved to the tree, glancing at it. “Ok so it’s not very big then, seeing as I can’t see it straight away.” Frank shrugged as she continued her search.

“I haven’t put it high up, seeing as you’re a short ass…” “I’m perfectly average for a woman thank you.” “Trust me baby girl, nothing about you is average.” he winked and she let out a snort.

“Charmer.” she grinned, turning back to the tree.

“Ok, you’re miles off…” he said, and she moved to her right “Gettin’ warmer…warmer…ok, yep, nearly there…” Fliss continued to search, and then something caught her eye. There was something shiny handing from the nose of her Doe ornament. She stepped forward slightly, and when she realised what it was her right hand flew to her mouth. Frank’s breath caught in his throat as she spun to face him, her eyes wide.

"You, me and Mary have been hanging out together since August last year now...” he said, clearing his throat slightly “How do you feel about hanging with us forever?" He watched, holding his breath as Fliss' chest heaved with emotion as she looked at him, those brown eyes he could happily stare at all day were full of tears, the hand which had flown to her mouth in surprise was now shaking as it slid to the spot beneath her throat, that dip in her neck that he could nuzzle at forever. "I'll hang with you for as long as you'll have me..." she whispered, taking a deep breath. "Is that a yes?" Frank inhaled sharply and a watery laugh burst through her tears. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes!" Frank's face split into a huge grin "shit..." he sputtered before she threw herself into his arms and he lifted her up easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he held her close, kissing her neck. She pulled back and placed a kiss to his lips, long and short pecks being shared as she laughed and he laughed, the pair of them simply lost in the moment until eventually he set her down and with a shaking hand he reached out to retrieve the ring from where it was hanging. Taking her left hand in his, with a deep breath he slipped the diamond onto her finger.

Fliss looked at it, admiring the way the delicate band sat underneath her knuckle, the beautiful diamond twinkling in the lights of the tree.

"Oh Frankie...it’s gorgeous..." she whispered, before she looked at him, taking his face in both his hands and pulling him down for a deep kiss. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He smiled, kissing her again before he pulled away, his hands linking behind her back. 

"I err, got us some champagne." He smiled, "I know it was presumptive of me but figured we could have it tomorrow if you turned me down." Fliss looked up at him, blinking before she took a deep breath “First I need to get you…just wait here…” He released her from his hold and she turned and headed out of the room, Frank watched her go, blinking for a moment before he shrugged and headed to the fridge, the smile still plastered on his face. She said yes! 

Not that he had doubted she would, not really, but there had always been that little bit of fright she may have done. But that was all gone now. As he popped the cork on the bottle he found himself thinking about how he would be doing that soon enough on his wedding day. He poured 2 glassed and headed into the living room with them wondering if maybe a late Autumn wedding next year would be nice, October perhaps when it started to cool off slightly. They could do the beach wedding she always wanted, hire a marquee... Lost in his thoughts completely he jumped a little when Fliss spoke his name and turned to look at her as she stood in front of him, the back of his thighs brushing against the sofa slightly. He noticed her hand was in her pocket, clutching something. Playfully he nodded towards it “I assume that’s not a spanner." He chuckled, referencing the joke they often shared and Fliss shook her head, biting her lip. "No it’s a bit bigger than that" With a shaky hand she pulled out a small, white stick of plastic and held it towards him. It took Frank a moment to understand what it was and as soon as he did his eyes widened and he looked at her, then it, then back again.

"You're...we're...no!." he stuttered, reaching out to take it from her. "I found out this morning." Fliss whispered, watching his reaction carefully "I suspected last week but thought it might all be down to stress and stuff but..." "How, I mean..." "I should have started a new pill packet when we went to Boston but I forgot to take it with me. I thought I'd be ok if I started as soon as I got back but..." "There's a baby in there?" Frank cut her off as he stumbled over his words, nodding to her stomach "Yeah" Fliss nodded. "You put it there." Frank's legs grew shaky and he dropped onto the sofa, staring down at the test in his hands.

2 blue lines. 2 blue lines that had just changed his world forever. "I'm sorry, I know this is sudden and I should have been more careful..." Fliss took a tentative step towards him and he reached out, his hands on either side of her hips, gently pulling her t-shirt up. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her belly, his forehead resting just above her navel. "I'm gonna be a dad." he pulled back, his eyes watering. "Frankie, you already are." Fliss said, her own tears once more springing forth. "I know you hate it when I say that about Mary but it's true." He looked at her, a dazed smile split his face into two as he pulled her onto his lap, where she straddled him, and he kissed her, hard, leaving her slightly breathless before he rest his forehead against hers. "Fuck, Lissy." he whispered, his eyes closed "You're cooking a little person..." She spluttered a laugh, nodding, her forehead brushing his as she did. "Was it made in Boston...is that the right word?" He pulled back to look at her and she laughed, brushing her hand through his fluffy hair as his gently reached out to rest against her stomach. "Yeah and most likely." "It's a little Boston Bean" he grinned and she laughed again, pressing her lips to his. "You're ok with it then? I know it's probably not what you would have planned but..." "Ok? Of course I'm ok!" He smiled "I love you and the thought of us making a little person that's half me, half you...fuck, it's amazing." She smiled and nodded, her voice a whisper "I know..."

"There is one problem." Franks said, his arms wrapping tightly around her. "What?" "You just ruined Christmas forever...because nothing is ever gonna live up to this ever again."

****** Fliss, Frank and Mary’s adventure continues in RIDING ON

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-4th Place

To anyone who plans on making a reboot of their favorite show in the future, you might want to take notes on this next pick. Because if you ask me, this next series that I'm going to talk about is the best example of how to do a reboot properly.

#4-Ducktales (2017-2021)

The Plot: Scrooge McDuck is the richest duck in the world, who made it big by also being one of the greatest adventurers of all time...ten years ago. Sadly, after an unfortunate accident with the family, Scrooge is forced to live the life of a normal businessman-er-duck. Up until Donald Duck asks Scrooge to watch over his nephews: Huey, Dewey, and Louie. What starts off as a single day of babysitting soon turns into a life of adventure as Scrooge gets back into the adventuring spirit to show his new family what the world really has to offer.

Now I want to make one thing clear: As of the moment of me writing this review, I have seen a total of zero episodes of the original Ducktales. That being said, despite my limited knowledge of the series, I still think it’s fair of me to point out how this is hands down the best reboot as of late (and I’ll explain more as to why that is later). And besides, from what I’ve heard from fans who have watched the original, Ducktales (2017) is a pretty faithful adaptation of the beloved franchise. The reason is that I believe this show remembers the two most important rules of making a reboot.

The first rule of a reboot is to try something new while still being faithful to the source material. Doing something like that is simple as a writer just needs to keep what the fans love and change what they hated. And trust me when I say that the writers of Ducktales (2017) knows how to do just that. For the most part, the show is about a family going on crazy globe-trotting adventures while still learning that family is the best adventure of all, much like the original. As for the characters, most of them keep their fun personalities. Scrooge is still a stingy miser with the heart for adventure, Launchpad is still the lovable idiot who can’t fly a plane, and Donald Duck still remains the one who gets stuck with all the bad luck. Then some characters have their personalities/roles revamped into something that improves upon the original. The best example is Fenton, who is still the wannabe superhero but is now a scientist in this show, wherein the old one was just Scrooge’s accountant. This way, both the hero and the man-DUCK-who’s behind the mask are equally capable of saving the day. There’s also Mrs. Beakley, who was originally a nanny that nagged Scrooge’s ear off for putting the kids in danger. In the reboot, she’s treated more as the anchor of reality to the more oddball characters, who also used to be a kick-butt super spy in her younger years. It is still the same role, but a different interpretation.

Now, some characters receive grand changes to their original personalities. But from what I’ve heard, those changes are made for the better. And there are no characters that need it more than the children. More specifically, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. This show does something that I’m eternally grateful for, and that’s giving each of these three their own distinct personalities and quirks. For years I couldn’t for the life of me tell the triplets apart. They had the same design, the same voice, the same personality, and the only difference people had to go off of are their different colors (which really didn’t do much to help). Here, they have different designs, voices, and now defining character traits for each of them. Huey is the smart and responsible boy scout, Dewey is the annoying attention seeker, and Louie is the best character in the entire show, and I WILL FREAKING FIGHT YOU ON THAT! And let us not forget the most appreciated change: Webby. From what I’ve heard, fans hated the original Webby, as she was nothing more than just the stereotypical girl of the group. Here, she’s given an actual personality and a fun one to boot. Webby is the ecstatic thrill-seeking adventurer who is skilled in combat training (thanks to her grandma) and is (of course) a socially awkward girl who wants to make friends. Like I said, this show took the idea that the fans hated and changed it into something that they’ll love. Which makes sense why the writers mastered this because they themselves are real fans of the show.

It is clear how much the writers are fans of the Ducktales franchise as they filled Ducktales (2017) with many references. And not just references to the original series but also references to the classic comics by Carl Barks and even the NES video game from the 1980s (seriously, this show will make you feel things about the “Moon Theme” you wouldn’t think was possible!). Even the show’s animation seems to be a homage to both the cartoon and comics. Not only do the characters and backgrounds have a more comic book style to them, but the characters also work on a mix of realistic and cartoony logic. And let me just say, it is refreshing to see characters in a Disney show have cartoon logic to them since Wander Over Yonder got canceled. And it’s not just Ducktales that the series reference, but even classic Disney movies (of course) and other shows in the Disney Afternoon lineup. And when it comes to these references, it’s more than just a subtle wink to the fans. The writers actually go out of their way to write a story around these beloved characters, so people who don’t get the joke won’t be one-hundred percent lost. For instance, without giving anything away, the writers found a brilliant way to reintroduce Darkwing Duck in this universe that feels right for this famous character. And if you ask me personally, these are the best ways to handle references for a reboot. Make them work within the story, even if you don’t fully get the joke.

This brings me to the second most important rule of a reboot: Make a quality product even though it is based on something else. Let us pretend that the original never existed. Would Ducktales (2017) still be as good as it is now? Personally, as a person who has never seen the original, I think it is.

This is another show that mixes slice of life episodes with adventure ones, similar to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. And just like Friendship is Magic, both are equally interesting because the characters themselves make them so. No matter what situation the Duck Family are in, the audience will care about it because the characters care about it. In fact, I think Ducktales (2017) handles the mix of slice of life and adventure much better than Friendship is Magic. In MLP: FiM, the adventure-based episodes force the characters to stick to their simple personality traits to move the story forward, and character-based ones help them grow. In Ducktales (2017), because the characters regularly go on adventures, they grow as characters no matter the situation. For example, my favorite episode is “The Great Dime Chase” where the main plot is Louie finding Scrooge’s #1 dime after accidentally spending it. While in that same episode, Dewey and Webby try to solve a mystery around the boys’ mom. We get a great lesson about the importance of hard work and a fascinating plot of an overarching mystery within the season, all taking place within the same episode. Both are interesting, neither feels as though it overshadows the other, and the characters develop along the way.

Another thing this show mixes well is comedy and drama. A lot of shows recently tried way too hard to find that perfect mix. Ducktales (2017) is one of the few examples that nails it. The comedy is hilarious, the drama is endearing, and neither feels like it’s prioritized over the other. The show starts off with this mix as well, where others that I’ve talked about seem to start off as purely comedic only to take themselves more seriously later on. That isn’t entirely a bad thing, but I feel as though Ducktales (2017) is the best way to go about the method. That way, fans won’t be complaining about how much “better” the show used to be in its first batch of episodes, much like Star V.S. the Forces of Evil.

Unfortunately, while I recommend this show, it’s not without its fair share of issues. Or rather, issue, as there really is only one problem I have with it. And that problem can be summed up with one name: Dewey Duck. For the most part, I dislike Dewy. Because he’s nothing more than a Ben Schwarts character. No disrespect to Ben Schwarts himself, but lately, it feels as though he only plays the one character from time to time: The egotistical attention seeker slowly and surely learning to be a better person who realizes that not everything is about him. That’s the character he plays in both Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), and it’s the character he plays here. And the thing about these characters is that they’re not as lovable as Ben Schwarts thinks they sound. In fact (and, again, I mean no disrespect to the actor. I’m sure he’s a lovely person in real life), every single one of these characters comes off as kind of annoying rather than as the lovable rapscallions I’m sure they’re meant to be. However, there is one thing worth mentioning about Dewey. While he’s portrayed as annoying when used for comedy, Dewey is surprisingly a compelling character when used for drama. The thing is, he’s rarely used for dramatic moments and is meant as a source of comedy. Hence why I said I disliked him for the most part.

Other than that, there aren’t really that many problems with the show. Well, there are, but they’re mostly nitpicks that the series more than makes up for. Is it weird that the kids are voiced by adults? Yes, but the actors do a great job at being sincere and have great comedic timing than any kid could have. Are there changes to characters that fans might not enjoy? Probably, but I have yet to have seen anyone that has annoyed me as much as Dewey has. Are the villains just evil for the sake of being evil? Yes, but that’s not really a big deal. In fact, a villain doesn’t need a heartbreaking backstory as to why they’ve become so evil. They just need to have a great personality that’s fun to watch, which every villain in the show has (aside from season two’s antagonist who’s basically a Disney surprise villain. And I hate them with a fiery passion). Does it feel as though the show suffers from “too many characters” syndrome? It sometimes does, but each character has such a fun and unique personality that I find it hard to forget most of them.

So really, Ducktales (2017) is the best reboot in recent memory. This is crazy, seeing as how lately it feels as though Disney doesn’t even know how to properly reboot their own movies to save their lives. This is why I feel as though people should take notes on what Ducktales (2017) does if they ever feel like rebooting something they loved as a kid. Because this is more than just a retelling of the same story that people know by heart. This is a fantastic show with even better characters, stories, and tone. Whether you’ve been a fan since the beginning, or a part of the new generation of viewers, odds are you’ll be screaming Whoo-Ooo with every episode.

(Also, a word of warning to those who haven’t watched the show yet: Beware the theme song. Trust me when I say it’ll be stuck in your head until the day you die)

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch 25: Keep It Simple

Chapter Summary: The events of Boston behind them, Frank, Fliss and Mary look forward to Christmas…and Frank has a big surprise planned.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut…NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!!

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So here it is, the last in the series Riding High. Thank you to everyone who has helped and re-blogged and commended in any way. Do not fear, Frank and Fliss will be back in the next instalment of their adventure Riding On in a little while.

And yes, I know it ain’t Christmas but…well, in my mind it should be Christmas every day!

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist 

Chapter Song:  God Only Knows by the Beach Boys

If you should ever leave me, thought life would still go on, believe me, the world could show nothing to me, so what good would living do me? God only knows what I’d be without you…

"Mary can you just hold on a second, please!" Frank sighed, grabbing the back of her coat to stop her shooting off into the crowd that streamed down the busy Manhattan sidewalk. "But Frank!" she turned and looked at him, her woollen hat jammed down over her ears "I just wanna see the stall!" "Yeah but you can't just run off!" He grumbled and besides him Fliss gave a chuckle. He turned to look at her "who gets so excited about damned wooden tree ornaments?" "Oh hush!" Fliss leaned up to give him a pack, her cold nose brushing his. In retaliation he pulled the front of her baby blue sparkly bobble hat down over her eye and she shoved him in the chest, laughing. "Fuck you!" "Chance would be a fine thing" he grumbled, taking Fliss’ hand as they headed after Mary. "Awww is that why you're grumpy?" Fliss grinned as they walked "Coz you haven't had any in nearly 3 days?" Frank pouted "No." "Liar..." "Ok, look...Frankie has needs..." he whined "I completely over looked the fact hanging out with an 8 year old in the room would be a cock block." "Always the shower..." Fliss teased and Frank snorted. "Yeah, right. Can you imagine? I give it 3 minutes before she came looking for us." "We go home tomorrow. I'll make it up to you then." Fliss grinned and he sighed. "What?" She laughed. "It’s just...you look so hot in all this winter clothing." Frank grinned. And he meant it. Seeing her wrapped up in a coat, hat and scarf had made her look all cute and cozy...and it had done inappropriate things to him for some odd reason. "Hmmm, you know most men get more turned on the less clothing their girls wear." She teased and he grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm not most men" She gave him a smile which he returned with a soft kiss as they stopped by the stall where Mary instantly dived into looking at the array of ornaments. After a few moments of looking she handed Frank one in the shape of a reindeer stag, and a doe for him and Fliss before selecting a robin for herself. "I think they're so pretty." She looked at the bird in her hand "I saw one at Evelyn's over thanks giving." "Ever heard the saying robins appear when loved ones are near?" Fliss asked. Mary shook her head. "No" "Well, I don't know about here but certainly in England we say it because there is an old belief by some people that a robin is a message from heaven, that a loved one is watching over you." "Do you believe that?" Mary looked at Fliss. Fliss hesitated "Well when my mum's dad died I was 20 and I remember getting up the morning after he died and there was a robin on the fence of the back garden. Bill told me it was my granddad Alex come to check I was ok." "Do you think it was? Really I mean?" "I dunno sweetheart." Fliss sighed "I'd like it to be true..." "Then you should believe it was." Mary said, looking at her "Because isn't that what faith is? Believing something you want to be true?" Fliss looked at Frank who smiled and gave a small shake of his head. She turned back to Mary, smiling softly as she dropped a hand to the back of her head. This kid was unbelievably wise, but with such an innocence behind it all. "Yeah, I suppose it is." Fliss nodded. "Do you think the robin I saw could have been my mom?" She asked, her eyes wide. Frank at that point stepped in, carefully picking an answer that was ambiguous so as not to say yes, but also not dampening her spirits. "If your mom could I'm sure she would come and see you, make sure you're ok." Mary gave a nod, before she turned back to the stall, her attention back on the ornaments. "We need a dog for Thor, and a cat for Fred oh...and a pony for Monty." "What about Cap and Heidi?" Fliss asked, moving to inspect the selection of decorations. "Oh, yeah!" "This is gonna bankrupt me." Frank grumbled, his hands on Fliss' hips, chin resting on her shoulder as he observed the two of them. "Scrooge" Fliss shot back with a smile "Do you think Verity and Bill will like this one?" Mary held up a snowman. "Absolutely" Fliss nodded. "And can I get one for Evelyn?" She asked, selecting a snowflake. Despite the fact that they were now well into the fifty buck range for fucking tree decorations, Frank couldn't help but want to smile at Marys face. She was so thoughtful, the purity behind it all was as usual humbling. So he nodded "Sure she will appreciate it." He smiled. He moved to lift her up so she could hand the ones they had picked over to the guy behind the counter who asked Mary what names she wanted on each one. As she told him, he allowed her to sit up on the edge of the little surface, held in place by Frank to watch as he burnt the names into each ornament before he bagged them up and she took them with a thanks. "Our first family tree stuff!" Mary grinned and Fliss smiled, bending down to give her a hug. They set back off towards the hotel, stopping by a burger joint for dinner before they dumped their bags and returned back out for their final evening in the City. Frank had loved every second of their trip, and so had Mary and Fliss. Seeing Mary's reaction to snow and the Christmas lights had been amazing, along with all the bands on street corners, people walking around dressed up. It was magical and he wasn't afraid to let his inner child come out to play either, as Fliss had just found out. "Whose idea was this again?" He asked as Mary was bouncing up and down in the queue. "Yours!" Fliss scoffed as he took Mary's hand in his right "I seem to recall the very visible horror on your face yesterday when I told you I'd never done it before..." "That’s because it's an abomination that someone who's 34 has never been ice skating." "I was a professional athlete." She shrugged "I was banned from doing anything deemed dangerous " Frank looked at her "What do they consider more dangerous than flying a half tonne animal almost 2 meters into the air?" "Bungee jumping, sky diving, jet skiing, water skiing, ice skating.." Fliss shrugged "just to name 5" Frank shook his head as the queue shuffled forward a little. It wasn't too long now, luckily they had timed it right by arriving 20 minutes or so before the next lot of General Admission to the famous Rockefeller rink opened so there weren't too many people ahead. After another 10 minutes they got to the front and Frank nudged Fliss out of the way as she tried to pay. She scowled at him and he simply rolled his eyes and handed his card over. It wasn't cheap but then, he was in New York. What was? Together they headed onto the ice. Frank, having done it a few times as a kid found his legs fairly quickly and didn't stop himself laughing as Mary's completely went from under her and she landed with a thump on her ass. "Here..." he chuckled, offering her his hand. He pulled her up and moved her in front of him. "Give me your hands..." Mary extended her arms to the side and he took her mitten clad hands in his, holding her in front of him. Fliss was moving tentatively behind him, using the sides for support a little. "Ok slide your right foot forward, like on your roller skates..." Frank said. Mary did as she was told "now left...right...left...right..." He continued his chanting and glanced over his shoulder to see Fliss was concentrating on her feet, her tongue poking out slightly. "You good?" "Yup." She said, raising her hand to give him a thumbs up before she skidded slightly and went down in a tangle of limbs. Letting out a laugh he gently pivoted Mary so she could hold onto the side and offered Fliss his hand. Pulling her up into his arms he held her steady for a moment whilst her laughing subsided. He watched her for a second, her face creasing up into those adorable dimples, eyes crinkled so much they were almost shut and her shoulders shook with the force of her giggles. "I fuckin' love you..." he grinned and she smiled at him. "Back at ya sailor" After another few laps Mary and Fliss had managed to get the hand of it which meant Frank could leave them a little bit as he went off for what he called a proper skate. The girls watched calling him a show off as he crossed his feet and turned, skating backwards a little. Both of them debated sabotaging him and tripping him up but they decided not to, instead they simply pretended they didn't know him, resulting in him grabbing Fliss from behind just beneath the large tree, and spinning her round to face him. "Can I help you?" She teased and he gave a snort. "Yeah, you can... Mary?" He called to her where she was trying to perfect a turn and failing as she almost stumbled again. She looked up and headed over. "Can you take our photo?" "Only if you're gonna kiss..." she replied, making smooching noises. "Well we can’t disappoint her..." Frank shrugged and Fliss grinned, her smile turning into a shriek as Frank quickly grabbed her hips before he took one hand, keeping the other round her back and dipped her so she was bending backwards, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips. She laughed against his mouth as he gave her a wink, before kissing her a little deeper and then setting her upright, his eyes boring into hers which were shining in the Christmas lights surrounding the rink. "Oh that was great!" Mary howled and he turned to face her as she handed his phone back. Frank checked the photo and had to smile, it was a dammed good shot. He showed it to Fliss and she beamed. "A framer?" She asked. "A framer." He agreed. It took them ages to get Mary to finally leave the rink. Even a bribe of hot chocolate, marshmallows and cookies wasn't doing it. Eventually Frank put his foot down and told her it was time to go as it was almost 9pm and they still had that tree to go see before they headed to Central Park for one last walk in the lights. After handing their skates back and retrieving their belongings from the lockers they followed the path to the tree. As they round the corner Mary gasped. "It's huge!" She turned to look at Frank and Fliss, her eyes wide "Oh my God!" Frank smiled kissed Fliss' cheek as Mary walked slightly ahead of them down the walkway that was flanked with smaller trees and the famous lit up trumpeting angels . As they caught her up he slipped his spare hand in his pocket, his fingers curling round the small, leather box inside. The damned thing had been burning a hole in his pocket since he had bought it in Boston just after Thanksgiving. Fliss, Verity and Bill had all stayed for a very pleasant week rounded off with a damned good proper Thanksgiving dinner and the three of them had flown home on the Friday, as Fliss was starting to stress about her business. He and Mary followed on the Sunday after she had been given the all clear to fly after a week’s check up at the Hospital. On his spare afternoon, he'd taken a trip into the city with one goal, and it had been surprisingly easy. The first jeweller he has walked into had a perfect ring, and despite the fact he had visited several others none of them caught his eye like that. So he had gone back and asked the assistant for a closer look. It wasn't a huge rock, white gold and emerald cut with in a pave setting, but everything about it had screamed Fliss. It was delicate and feminine but with a wonderful sparkle just like her. He knew that sounded so lame when he had told the assistant but she has just smiled and told him that if he had that much conviction, it must be right. He had been lost when she asked him what size, but in a sudden inspiration he had remembered the Pandora ring he had bought her when he had gotten his first new pay check as supervisor. He mentioned this to the assistant who beamed and said she could easily size it from that by using a simple conversion chart and told him to come back the following day. His sudden good spirit had fallen as he explained he couldn't do and asked her to see if here was anything she could do, even contemplating taking it and having it sizes back in Florida. But, after the shitty run of events over the last week, his luck was in after she returned 5 minutes later with a slip of paper, informing him it would be ready by the end of the day. When he had told Mary he was going to ask Fliss to marry him, she'd been so excited. She'd asked when, where and when he said he didn’t know she'd given him the most exasperated look on the planet. The only one of his friend who he had confided in, Greg, hadn’t been much help either, simply telling him to do it in a way that meant something to them both. Simply put he just hadn't a fucking clue. He had agonized over how to pop the question. On the boat? Or maybe a sunset on their favourite spot at St Pete's beach? Did he wait for New York? As such, Frank had taken to carrying the ring around with him, waiting for that moment when it felt right. So far it hadn't happened at home and as it stood New York wasn’t faring any better. He had thought about it at the top of the Empire state, but it had been too busy. Then there was a moment in Central Park after they had been snowman building that might have worked...until Fliss had nailed him in the face with a snowball. So they'd had a snowball fight instead. Then when walking over Brooklyn Bridge, the skyline behind them… then when they walked back to the Hotel after seeing the Lion King on Broadway, going the long way round to see the display in Macy's window all lit up...and then that moment before when Mary had taken a picture of them kissing under the tree on the ice rink... but none of it felt right. It didn't feel like the moment for them. But now something stirred in his gut. This could be it. It wasn't too busy, the place was gorgeous, right in front of the tree Fliss had been so desperate to see... Ok Adler, you can do this. Taking a deep breath he pulled the box from his pocket when he heard Mary give a squeal. "Oh...wow! Frankie look..." Fliss' voice was a whisper and she nudged him, pointing to the base of the tree. He followed her gaze to see a blonde haired man down on one knee, presenting a ring to a dark haired woman who had her hands clasped over her mouth. Frank slipped the box back into his pocket and stared at the man as he placed the ring onto his now fiancés finger and did his best to look like he cared when Fliss let out a soft "Awwww" The man looked around excitedly, his eyes falling on the three of them before he asked Frank if he or Fliss would mind taking a photo for them. "Course not buddy, congratulations." Frank smiled. Fucking prick... ***** "It was AMAZING!" Mary gushed to Verity as they walked to the car, Fliss' parents having come to pick them up from the airport. "we saw so much stuff but nowhere near all of it but Frank said we could go back next year in the summer maybe and do a bit more." "Looks like someone else had a good time too." Bill smiled, nodding to Fliss who let out a loud yawn. Frank chuckled "She was up all night, I told her not to have more food so close to bed time." "I wanted a hot dog and a pretzel." Fliss mumbled, "Besides, it's nothing to do with the food...we did a lot of walking." Bill gave a snort "You ride horses for a living, you should be fit enough to walk round New York" "I probably skated about 4 miles too..." Fliss said looking at Mary "Someone wouldn't come off the ice rink" "You been sleeping ok otherwise?" Verity looked at her "I'm fine mum." She smiled "No anxiety?" 'V, she said she's fine so leave it" Bill said gently and Fliss shot a grateful look at her dad. She knew her mum was only concerned but she was fed up of assuring people she was fine. After the attack from John she had suffered a bout of delayed shock which had manifested in a few panic attacks, nightmares, and restlessness at night and on one occasion nausea. Luckily Frank had been brilliant at keeping calm when she had an episode, helping her work through it and the last incident she had suffered had been over a week ago. Once they were all in the car, Frank took the passenger seat after Verity offered it to him, Mary continued to chat all the drive home about New York, Fliss and Frank butting in here and there. They arrived home little after 30 minutes later and Fliss headed up the steps with Mary, Thor almost sending the pair of them flying when they opened the door. "Oh puppy I missed you!" Fliss smiled as she gave him plenty of attention and he kept licking her face, whining and emitting quiet little barks. "Did you miss me? Did you?" "Yerress" Frank did his best Scooby Doo impression as he walked past and Fliss let out a laugh, as she stood up and headed into the living room behind Mary, bumping into the girl as she stopped dead, giving a squeal as she saw the Christmas Tree in the corner. "Mum, Dad?" Fliss called, smiling "I take it you did this?" Frank appeared behind them both, smiling as Fliss and Mary exchanged a glance before they all turned to Bill and Verity who were stood in the doorway. "Well we know how much you like to get your tree up as early as you can and, well we were picking one up for ourselves so we got you one. You don’t mind do you?" Verity, looked at Fliss then Frank. "No, of course not!" Fliss grinned. "Saved me a job." Frank nodded "Thanks guys." "Can we decorate it tonight?" Mary asked "Pleeeeeeeaaaasssseee Frank!" Frank glanced at his watch before giving a sigh, he knew she wouldn't go to bed if he said no anyway so what was the point? Plus she was at the University tomorrow which didn’t start until 10 so... "Ok, but if you so much as grumble tomorrow morning when I get you up you'll be in deep trouble." He looked at her sternly as she stooped to pick Fred up. "Cross my heart, hope to die, we all know Fred's got one eye..." she chanted off, nodding. "We brought your box of decorations from the annex." Verity smiled at Fliss, nodding to the box on the floor. "We thought you could pick what you want to keep now you're combining."

“Speaking of decorations…” Frank said, looking at Mary.

“Oh…yeah…hang on…” She said, running to the sofa where she had dumped her little pink rucksack. She fished out the paper bag they had gotten from the stall and found the Snowman they had bought. With a smile she handed it to Verity who looked down at it, her face curling into a smile as her eyes started to prick with tears.

“Fliss said you wouldn’t mind the names Mary wanted on them.” Frank said, watching carefully.

“Of course we don’t mind!” Bill smiled, picking Mary up to give her a hug “We are Nanny V and Poppa B ain’t that right kiddo?” “Yep!” she grinned, hugging him.

“We’ll save it to hang tomorrow when you come over after school.” Verity said as Bill set Mary on the floor and she hugged her tightly.

After a little more chat Verity and Bill left and Frank instructed Mary to change into her Pyjamas before they did the tree. Deciding that was a good idea, Fliss did the same and before long they were all in the living room. Fliss and Mary going through the boxes of decorations, Frank wrestling with the tangle of fairy lights. How they managed to get so fucking knotted up after simply being in a box for 12 months was beyond him.

He had just about managed it when Thor came over to inspect what he was doing, and dropped straight onto his back on top of the string.

“Thor…get out of it…” he grumbled, pushing the dog who simply rolled over, taking half the lights with him, tangling them round his legs and his tails. “Jesus Christ…stand still…for fucks sake…”

Thinking this was a huge game, Thor started to bounce around, barking, and Frank shook his head. “Fliss, sort this mutt out….” Fliss gave a laugh and dropped off the sofa, calling Thor to her. He sat down, allowing Frank to remove the lights before he stood up, shaking them out. Together the 3 of them wound them round the tree before they made a start on the decorations.

“Frank got me this for my first Christmas.” Mary said, hanging a red bauble which had her name on it. “The glitter has all fallen off it now.”

“We can add more if you want.” Fliss looked at her and Mary shrugged.

“I kinda like it.” It didn’t take them long, and their wooden trinkets from New York were the last ones they hung, Mary ensuring they took pride of place. Frank then lifted her up so she could place the star at the top before they stood back.

“Ready for the big turn on?” Frank asked, grinning. Mary and Fliss cheered and began a countdown from 5. When they hit 1 Frank hit the switch and the lights on the tree came to life. He stepped back, looking up at it, his arm curling round Fliss’ shoulder, his other dropping to Mary as she grinned.

“Best Tree ever.” she smiled.

“Yeah, and now it’s time for the best bed ever…” he looked at her.

“Seriously?” Mary complained

“No moaning, remember?” Frank instructed her. “That was in the morning.”

“Well I just extended it to now as well.” he said, shrugging “Because I can, so get…” “Fine, fine, I’m going…” she grumbled. “Night Fliss.” “Night sweetie.” Fliss dropped a kiss to her head before Mary shot a filthy look at Frank who met her with a passive one of his own.

“I’ll be in in a second.” Frank shot after her, watching as she headed down to the hallway. He turned back to Fliss who was watching the tree, a smile on her face.

“Not exactly up to Macey’s standards…” Frank chuckled and she shook her head.

“I love it.” “It looks like an Elf threw up on it.”

“All trees should be like that.” Fliss shrugged, before she gave his cheek a peck. “Now, you go sort Mary and I’ll get us both a beer.” “Actually…” he said, looping his arms round her waist. “I believe there was something else you promised me tonight…” “Oh, yes, of course, Frankie has needs…” she replied with an almost uncanny impersonation, which made him snort. “Does that mean no beer?”

“No beer.” “You want me to wait in bed.” “Yes I do.” he nodded “Go, I’ll let Thor out and lock up.”

Grinning she accepted his kiss and smiled as she turned around, casting him a quite frankly sinful look over her shoulder which almost had him hard right there and then. Not wanting to wait a moment longer he sorted the dog, locked the door, poked his head into Mary’s room to wish her goodnight, and headed into their bedroom. Fliss was hanging her jeans in the closet after having simply discarded them on the bed earlier, and wasting no time Frank pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it to the side before he stepped up behind her, spinning her round to face him. He pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss as he slid his hands down to cup her ass and she smirked into the kiss.

“I like your ass.” he muttered. “I like yours too” she said back, “And your arms”

He laughed and pulled back to look down at her as her fingers trailed up his biceps. “My arms?”

“Yeah, your big, strong arms, and your big, broad shoulders and your stupid, handsome face…” she muttered, pulling him back down to her. In between the dizzying kisses Frank steered her towards the bed, and as her legs collided with the edge he stopped to gently trail kisses across her bare collar bone. His lips found her jaw and then, with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he reached down for her thighs, and grabbing them he pulled them forwards, causing her to fall backwards as he pitched them both onto the bed. As she laughed he chuckled slightly before he kissed her again, and then it was a scramble to get out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell back on top of his girl, his hands pulling up her camisole top, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear before he slid down her shorts, his mouth gently kissing a trail up from her belly through the middle of her breasts, up her neck and finally back to her mouth.

Fliss was utterly lost now, in the usual whirl of love, and lust and passion and kissed him back, hard as his hand gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips of his fingers as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’s eyes rolling back at the exquisite stretch inside. Frank began to move his hips slowly, deeply, his thrusts weren’t measured in the slightest despite the fact he was absolutely aching for her. He wanted to take it slow, end what had been an amazing trip in the same mood it had started in, absolute pure love.

His mouth moved back to Fliss’s neck, nipping gently at her skin and she let out low moan as he picked up the pace ever so slightly, his spare hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close to him as she could possibly be.

“Fuck, Frank, right there…” she groaned as he hit her spot and he smirked slightly, he loved the way she got like this with him, ever so demanding at times, such a far cry from the timid woman he had fallen for the previous year.

“Yeah?” he panted as she gave a soft cry, her body tensing underneath him “Good.” “So good…” she moaned, arching her back. His mouth found hers again and his hand slid from her hip to gently tease her nipple and she rolled her hips to grind up against him, changing the angle slightly causing him to go deeper.

“Lissy…” he panted as he drove into her deeply, slowly, and then again and again, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Every single sense Frank possessed was on fire and he broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against her cheek when he felt her clench around him, a tell-tale sign she was nearing her release. The sheets rustled underneath and around them both as his hips pushed up against hers, and Frank saw Fliss’ head tip back, her throat bared to him in utter bliss as she came hard, her moans soft and breathy into his ear. Frank picked up his pace slightly, chasing his own end as he pushed her through hers, and when he felt that snake in his belly beginning to unravel, he gave a low grunt which morphed into a gasp as he clung to Fliss, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward. Fliss gave a soft chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair, as she moved and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“I know I keep saying it but I really do fuckin’ love you Cowgirl.” he said, voice muffled as his face pressed into her neck.

Fliss gave a chuckle “I’ll never tire of hearing it Sailor. “

He moved to look at her, flashing her a grin before he caught her mouth in a sweet kiss. **** "You still not managed it?" Greg asked as they stood at the bar, waiting for their drinks. Frank sighed and glanced at Fliss who was sat with Bonnie in the booth, the pair of them sniggering at something. "Do you see a ring on her finger?" He looked at Greg. "No" "Well there's your answer." "What's the hold up, man?" Greg frowned. "Nothing has felt right." Frank sighed "she won’t want a huge fuss in front of people so that basically ruled out all of New York...bar one moment when I thought it was time, in front of the tree at Rockefeller...and then some douchebag went and beat me to it, proposing to his girl whilst we watched..." "You're over thinking it." Greg said, looking at Frank "Take a step back. When are the pair of you at your best? The time you enjoy most, I mean" "Honestly?" Frank shrugged "at night when Mary's gone to bed and we finally sit down and just watch TV or joke around." "Well there you go." Greg shrugged "What, at home?" Frank frowned "Why not?" Greg looked at him "the point isn't to be showy or flashy but to show her you wanna spend the rest of your life with her." Frank pondered this for a moment. Greg has a point. They were at their happiest doing the simple things, spending quiet time together, being fucking normal. Fliss loved it when they curled up and Frank would simply cuddle her close and kiss her head, easy signs of affection that she had craved all through her wreck of a marriage. And Frank loved it too, because it made him feel grounded, time for him to simply be Frank in his own right, the very thing he used to use his Friday night drinking sessions for. Now he could feel it every night, thanks to Lissy…

And then, suddenly an idea came to him, out of nowhere.

Oh, it was perfect! "Greg..." he smiled, slapping the man on the back "you are a genius." "Glad I could be of service." Greg smirked "This means I get best man duty, right?"

Frank smirked at him, shrugging, not giving anything away. His eyes flicked back to Fliss who had now stood up, Simon having returned to the table sliding in next to Bonnie. Frank’s eyes travelled up her bare legs, from her high-heels up to the short little pink playsuit she was wearing, which was printed with black palm trees and other patterns, the small straps settling on her tanned shoulders, the front showing him just enough cleavage. She was wearing a black butterfly necklace that she had bought in New York and her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders in soft curls. Her brown eyes locked onto his and he smiled as he remembered the last Circle Of Truth Christmas outing the previous year, when he had told her he loved her for the first time. And here they were, now 5 days away from their second Christmas together.

“Hey beautiful” he smiled as she reached his side. His arm curled round her and he pressed a kiss to her cheek “You ok?” “Yeah, just thirsty.” she smiled. “Can I get a water as well as my gin please?”

“Sure…” he turned to look at the bar tender who was pulling their drinks together. Once he had attracted his attention and added a bottle of water to the order he turned back to her as Greg spoke up.

“Frank said you enjoyed New York.” “Oh, it was fantastic.” she smiled “Every bit as magical as I thought it was going to be.”

“Good, I’m glad you all had a good time.” Greg smiled “You deserved it after everything that went down.” “Yeah well, he’s banged up now. His brother is going to go down for Endangerment or whatever it is you call it, its’ done, it’s over.” Fliss smiled, “We got the rest of our lives ahead of us now.” “Well, if that doesn’t call for shots then I don’t know what does…” Greg smirked as the bar tender placed their drinks in front of them.

“No, Greg…” Fliss started to protest but Greg cut her off.

“Yes Greg!” he smirked, turning to the bar tender, “Can I get a bottle of Tequila pal and 8 glasses.” Fliss groaned “I’m teaching at 9 am!”

“Dumbass…” Greg looked at her and Frank gave a snort.

“I told you to switch them out…”

“I can’t!” she pouted “I already did for Boston and New York…” “Well…” Greg smirked as the bar tender set the bottle and glasses down in front of him “Looks like you’re doing it with a hangover honey.” “Fuck my life…” **** Fuck my life indeed. Fliss spent the following morning throwing up, groaning once more that she was never drinking tequila EVER again. Frank reminded her of how many times she had said that over the time he had known her and she’d simply let out a huge fake sob and thrown herself face down on the bed again declaring that she didn’t want to adult anymore as it sucked.

The days before Christmas passed in the usual chaos. Presents were wrapped and stashed under the tree, more drinks were had with Friends. Evelyn visited for a few days, which had actually almost pleased Frank a little. She wasn’t staying for Christmas, her arrangements having already been made, but she had hinted that maybe next year she could, to which Frank and Fliss had both agreed. She had been taken with Mary’s gift to her and had laughed out loud when Bill and Verity had presented her with a case of Malbec, the same Malbec she’d smashed a bottle of over John’s head. Her gifts to them both had been a substantial chunk of money, in the thousands, and when Frank had protested at the amount on the cheque she had waved it off as 8 years of owed presents. Mary’s was wrapped so it was placed under the tree for Christmas morning. Evelyn headed back to Boston on the morning of Christmas Eve, Frank and Mary driving her to the airport instead of her driver, where they had both bid her a Happy Christmas and waved her goodbye as she headed off to spend it with her friends in Newton.

After the final preparations were made Frank, Fliss and Mary collapsed onto the sofa for a Marathon of Christmas Films. Mary was, as usual, excited and the copious amounts of chocolate and candy she was shovelling down weren’t helping either, but what the hell, it was Christmas after all.

"You ok?" Frank glanced at Fliss as she sat on the other side of the couch. Love Actually was playing, the final film of the evening before Mary went to bed. Fliss, however didn't look like she was paying attention. "Huh?" She looked at him, blinking. "I said are you ok? You look like you were miles away"

“Yeah, sorry, I was errr…just running through things in my head, making sure nothing was forgotten.” Frank smiled. They were hosting Verity and Bill tomorrow as Steven and his family were at his wife’s parents for this year, flying out instead of the 28th to spend New Year’s with them all. Fliss had asked Frank if they could host, as she’d never had the chance to do that before and of course he had agreed, not least because of the excited look on her face when she had asked.

“The table is set, food and everything is ready to go…” he chuckled, looking at her “Just relax…”

He reached round Mary, his hand gently rubbing at Fliss’ back and she smiled at him, turning her attention to the TV.

20 minutes or so later the film finished and Mary jumped up, grabbing Frank’s hand to make him dance to God Only Knows as the final closing scenes played out. He smiled and picked her up, resting her on his hip as he twirled her round to the song, the pair of them laughing before he eventually dropped her down and told her it was bed time. She scooted off, Fred trotting behind her, his tail swishing as she skipped and Frank headed in about 5 minutes later to tuck her in, before he came back to the living room.

“She wants you to go and say goodnight.” he smiled,

Fliss nodded and stood up.

“You sure you’re ok?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m just tired.” she assured him. Giving him a kiss she headed up the hall and Frank watched her go before he smiled to himself, and set about quickly putting the last touches to his plan.

She came back about 10 minutes later and he smiled at her as she walked into the room.

“OK, now she’s out of the way…I got something for you...” Frank smiled.

Fliss looked at him before she shook her head, chuckling a little “I got something for you too…Frank, I have-” “Me first.” Frank cut her off.

She looked at him for a second, his bright blue eyes were shining as he grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” she smiled, “Ok, you first.” He grinned and then folded his arms “You gotta find it.” “What?”

“It’s hidden, on the tree, and you gotta find it.” Her face lit up as she gave a laugh “You are such a dork!” “Yeah, I know…” Narrowing her eyes playfully she moved to the tree, glancing at it. “Ok so it’s not very big then, seeing as I can’t see it straight away.” Frank shrugged as she continued her search.

“I haven’t put it high up, seeing as you’re a short ass…” “I’m perfectly average for a woman thank you.” “Trust me baby girl, nothing about you is average.” he winked and she let out a snort.

“Charmer.” she grinned, turning back to the tree.

“Ok, you’re miles off…” he said, and she moved to her right “Gettin’ warmer…warmer…ok, yep, nearly there…” Fliss continued to search, and then something caught her eye. There was something shiny handing from the nose of her Doe ornament. She stepped forward slightly, and when she realised what it was her right hand flew to her mouth. Frank’s breath caught in his throat as she spun to face him, her eyes wide.

"You, me and Mary have been hanging out together since August last year now...” he said, clearing his throat slightly “How do you feel about hanging with us forever?" He watched, holding his breath as Fliss' chest heaved with emotion as she looked at him, those brown eyes he could happily stare at all day were full of tears, the hand which had flown to her mouth in surprise was now shaking as it slid to the spot beneath her throat, that dip in her neck that he could nuzzle at forever. "I'll hang with you for as long as you'll have me..." she whispered, taking a deep breath. "Is that a yes?" Frank inhaled sharply and a watery laugh burst through her tears. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes!" Frank's face split into a huge grin "shit..." he sputtered before she threw herself into his arms and he lifted her up easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he held her close, kissing her neck. She pulled back and placed a kiss to his lips, long and short pecks being shared as she laughed and he laughed, the pair of them simply lost in the moment until eventually he set her down and with a shaking hand he reached out to retrieve the ring from where it was hanging. Taking her left hand in his, with a deep breath he slipped the diamond onto her finger.

Fliss looked at it, admiring the way the delicate band sat underneath her knuckle, the beautiful diamond twinkling in the lights of the tree.

"Oh Frankie...it’s gorgeous..." she whispered, before she looked at him, taking his face in both his hands and pulling him down for a deep kiss. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He smiled, kissing her again before he pulled away, his hands linking behind her back.

"I err, got us some champagne." He smiled, "I know it was presumptive of me but figured we could have it tomorrow if you turned me down." Fliss looked up at him, blinking before she took a deep breath “First I need to get you…just wait here…” He released her from his hold and she turned and headed out of the room, Frank watched her go, blinking for a moment before he shrugged and headed to the fridge, the smile still plastered on his face. She said yes!

Not that he had doubted she would, not really, but there had always been that little bit of fright she may have done. But that was all gone now. As he popped the cork on the bottle he found himself thinking about how he would be doing that soon enough on his wedding day. He poured 2 glassed and headed into the living room with them wondering if maybe a late Autumn wedding next year would be nice, October perhaps when it started to cool off slightly. They could do the beach wedding she always wanted, hire a marquee... Lost in his thoughts completely he jumped a little when Fliss spoke his name and turned to look at her as she stood in front of him, the back of his thighs brushing against the sofa slightly. He noticed her hand was in her pocket, clutching something. Playfully he nodded towards it “I assume that’s not a spanner." He chuckled, referencing the joke they often shared and Fliss shook her head, biting her lip. "No...it’s...a bit bigger than that" With a shaky hand she pulled out a small, white stick of plastic and held it towards him. It took Frank a moment to understand what it was and as soon as he did his eyes widened and he looked at her, then it, then back again.

"You're...we're...no...that's..." he stuttered, reaching out to take it from her. "I found out this morning." Fliss whispered, watching hair reaction carefully "I suspected last week but thought it might all be down to stress and stuff but..." "How, I mean..." "I should have started a new pill packet when we went to Boston but I forgot to take it with me. I thought I'd be ok if I started as soon as I got back but..." "There's a baby in there?" Frank cut her off as he stumbled over his words, nodding to her stomach "Yeah" Fliss nodded. "You put it there." Frank's legs grew shaky and he dropped onto the sofa, staring down at the test in his hands.

2 blue lines.

2 blue lines that had just changed his world forever. "I'm sorry, I know this is sudden and I should have been more careful..." Fliss took a tentative step towards him and he reached out, his hands on either side of her hips, gently pulling her t-shirt up. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her belly, his forehead resting just above her navel. "I'm gonna be a dad..." he said, pulling back, his eyes watering. "Frankie, you already are..." Fliss said, her own tears once more springing forth. "I know you hate it when I say that about Mary but it's true." He looked at her, a dazed smile split his face into two as he pulled her onto his lap, where she straddled him, and he kissed her, hard, leaving her slightly breathless before he rest his forehead against hers. "Fuck, Lissy..." he whispered, his eyes closed "You're cooking a little person..." She spluttered a laugh, nodding, her forehead brushing his as she did. "Was it made in Boston...is that the right word?" He pulled back to look at her and she laughed, brushing her hand through his fluffy hair as his gently reached out to rest against her stomach. "Yeah and most likely." "It's a little Boston Bean" he grinned and she laughed again, pressing her lips to his. "You're ok with it then? I know it's probably not what you would have planned but..." "Ok? Of course I'm ok!" He smiled "I love you and the thought of us making a little person that's half me, half you...fuck, it's amazing." She smiled and nodded, her voice a whisper "I know..."

"There is one problem." Franks said, his arms wrapping tightly around her. "What?" "You just ruined Christmas forever...because nothing is ever gonna live up to this ever again."

[ai-higurashi]

Heyyyyy :D 1, 2, 4, 11 and 28 with Morgkley for the ask thingy pleaseeee

As you wish, 7w7

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Morgana.

How? You mean apart from kissing Beakley senseless the moment she laid eyes on her?

She... wasn't exactly subtle with her infatuation towards Bentina either.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Morgana. She gets nervous around Bentina (I mean, who doesn't want to impress their crush?) and is terrified of being rejected by the people around her, either because something she did or because of what she is (not all her past experiences have been pleasant). Which makes her do some mistakes on her spellcasting, which only makes dangerous situations even worse, which fuels her fear of Beakley rejecting her because she messed up, oh dear, she messed up so so so so bad, how did she mess up like that?? It was a simple spell!!!??? Even a toddler could have done that calculation!!!

Usually a small touch on her shoulder is enough to distract her from the storm inside her head.

Beakley insists on Morgana tagging along anyways and reassures her that her spellcasting is getting better. But what really does the trick is when she realizes that Bentina has blind faith that Morgana will have her back and that she is still fully capable to fend off by herself if the witch ever fails to do so. She DOESN'T NEED someone by her side, yet Bentina Beakley allows herself to be vulnerable around Morgana even after all the times she felt like she had messed up because she TRUSTS her and WANTS her. And Beakley is a trained spy. She's never wrong when it comes to trusting people. So maybe, just maybe, she's not doing it as bad as she first thought.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Also Morgana (dang, three on a row XD).

She's by far the most touchy and cuddly of the two (Beakley is rarely affectionate in public) and even if it's just something simple like linking their arms and leaning on her shoulder or grabbing one of Beakley's hands with both of hers and staying impossibly close while rambles excitedly about something, she's always in Beakley's personal space (not that it bothers Bentina. That's how Morgana is and Beakley silently adores and welcomes it)

11. What do they hide from one another?

Morgana is doing a parallel investigation about Magica's whereabouts behind the rest's backs. She's furious about how Magica treated and used Lena and, as a fellow sorcerer, feels like it's her duty to stop her. Dealing with a magical user can be very dangerous and doesn't want to put the others (specially Lena, Webby and Beakley) in danger. She also uses the sleep sand to make sure that Lena's dreams are pleasing and to kick away any nightmare, specially if it's about a certain green feathered witch.

Last, but not least, her family has tried to talk her out of her relationship with Beakley countless times, but there's no way she's telling Bentina that. (Beakley noticed on her own, but hasn't said anything either)

Beakley watches Morgana sleep almost every day (again, they have pretty different schedules so it's not difficult).

She also isn't extremely fond of ghouls' food yet. Yes, it's actually tasty and good once she finally catches and eats it, but Bentina is still a little weirded out when her food is clearly trying to walk away or wants to strangle her. (Of course, she doesn't tell Morgana. She's fully aware how proud she's of her cooking and there's no real complaining apart from "it's moving and I'm not used to that". Beakley can deal with that)

28. Why do they get jealous?

Bentina gets a little bit jealous about the way Morgana talks to and cuddles all her pets. And she feels absolutely stupid about it because she's jealous of a random spider Morgana just found on the street, but the moment Morg starts cooing at it, Bentina is immediately like "god, wish that were me"

Morgana is jealous of the relationship between Beakley and Scrooge. She's not afraid of Scrooge taking Beakley away from her and all that nonsense. Bentina loves HER and Scrooge is extremely supportive about that. Besides, she's aware that the relationship between those two is 100% platonic. But she sees how they barely need words to understand each other. She notices how much they care about each other. They can work together with a single glance yet they argue like an old married couple at the slightest chance. They raise each other up even though they know so much about the other that they could figuratively and literally ruin their life. They have enough mutual trust that they allow themselves to be vulnerable because they know it's safe and at the same time they drive each other mad. It's the kind of intimate bond it takes decades of mutual appreciation, love, support and convivence to achieve. Morgana wishes that she could have something like that with Beakley, except romantic instead of platonic.

But it's only a matter of time ;3

[gloss-glass-ash]

Blue Christmas

Requested: nope

Summary: sad Christmas stuff that ends up happy 

TW: Ashton's contains unspecified family drama, Cal’s lonely and cashton is real, Luke's mentions infertility, and Mikey's has S.A.D. 

Tags: @cal-pal-cuddles

Ashton: Dating Ashton, Loving Ashton was everything you had ever wanted and more. The man had the softest soul and kindest eyes and warmest smile. He was the man of your dreams, the only one you'd ever be with forever.

All that mushy stuff aside, the relationship was fairly new. You were approaching your 1 year, sure, but this was the first holiday season and there were things you didn't tell him. He didn't question you not going home for Thanksgiving ("I'm thankful for you, I want to be with you love, you just got home") but he assumed that you were going to be with your family.

So he didn't mention how desperately he wanted to take you to Australia. He just pouted to himself as he packed and wrapped presents. You joined him, holding the bow in place as he tied each package for his family. "Your mom's going to love that sweater Ash."

He tossed the stray curls away with a smile. "I'm a great gift giver, baby." He paused for a moment. "When's your flight?"

The way your eyes cast away didn't go unnoticed. "Um, about that." Fuzzy socked feet shifted on the bed. "I was just going to finish moving stuff from my apartment."  

Ashton tossed his next present aside with a thunk. "What?"

"Or I'll just stay at my place, I get that it'd be weird for me to be here when you're not. No worries, I'm sor-"

His palms cradled your face for a moment, fondness and concern equal in his eyes. "Silly girl, of course you can be here when I'm not, that's the point of moving in." His nose bumped yours. "No, what I'm concerned about is you not going home and not telling me."

With a dramatic sigh and dismissive hand gesture, you crawled into his lap. "Family drama makes the holiday so stressful it's hard to be festive, let alone remember what it's all about."

Ashton hummed softly, stroking your hair. "Anything else?"

"Home is with you, I know it's early, but it's with you."

With a sneaky grin, Ashton pulled a small present from the pile. "Guess it's a good thing I got another ticket to Sydney then."

Calum: With a Scrooge like sigh, Calum rubbed at his eyes and drew a breath. He wasn't miserly and he certainly wasn't greedy. He was just a little, or lot, of lonely and this time of year certainly didn't help much. Sure, he'd gone back home to spend time with his family and loved every moment, but he was back in the states, it was cold, and it was Christmas.

Duke rested near his thighs, watching intently as his favorite person sulked. Calum brushed a hand through the thick fur of his pup and let out yet another sigh. "What do ya think, Duke? Should I go?"

Duke merely whined and thumped his tail. "I don't want to seem clingy or whatever...but then again..."

Grabbing his keys, he checked his hair in the hall mirror and blew Duke a kiss. He decided to walk, knowing he'd drink and just spend the night anyways. The temptation of a cigarette called to him but he shook it off thinking of the warmth of the house that awaited him.

The house was decorated like in the movies with lights hanging everywhere and a lovely tree in the window. He rung the doorbell and was quickly ushered inside by Ashton. "I'm so glad you came, mate!"

"It's not too late?" He stuffed his hands in the pockets of a worn leather jacket. Ashton shook his head, pulling him into a hug.

"It's only me and the missus, never to late for you." Ashton let his touch linger a little longer and pressed a kiss to Calum's cheek. "Y/N's in the kitchen icing cookies if you want to join us."

And he did, he really truly did. Calum felt at peace in this house with you and Ashton. He knew he shouldn't feel this way about you and Ashton, but damn it he loved you two. He hugged you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you iced a gingerbread man.

Ashton kept an eye on his loves as he poured each person a glass of wine and set the table. "When my little elves are done being extra adorable, come join me and eat."

With an eager twinkle in his eyes, Calum settled in for Christmas dinner with you and Ashton feeling, at least for now,  peaceful with the world.

Luke: Mass had just let out when you approached the prayer alter. Others joined you on the pews building up the serve to go light a candle and say a prayer. You found some comfort, however simple, in being surrounded by others. After watching a particularly charming child go light a candle, you drew a breath to go pray.

Without turning around, you could feel Luke's eyes on you. He stood by the doors of the cathedral with one of the nuns. His own soul was heavy, eyes watering. "Forgive me for not wanting to hear the usual about timing and all that."

The sister offered a sad smile and squeeze of the hand. "Do not lose faith in your family, Luke. You and Y/N are filled with so much love, God knows that, and God won't let that love go away."

"It's hurts, watching her with children because she's so good with them and it hurts when we try over and over, and it hurts when my mom asks if we're expecting." His tears were wiped away by Sister June's hand.

"No one said that love and faith doesn't hurt, it is a struggle against sin. Sin might feel better on the soul in the moment, but love will last an eternity."

Luke dried his eyes and joined you. His hand slipped in yours, curls tickling your skin as he rested his head on yours. He matched your words and mimicked your cross before leaving. "Same prayer?" He dared to ask as you both left the church and walked toward his car.

"No," you bit your lip and close your eyes, "I just asked that every child has a nice Christmas and is loved and happy and healthy and fed. If we aren't meant to have one, then at least we can help care for the world's."

Luke turned on the radio and let a sob pass as a cough.

Things got worse before they got better. The doctor's appointment didn't go as hoped and your sister was pregnant. You didn't leave the house for two days. Luke stayed in bed with you, holding you closer to his heart than he ever had before.You both cried until the tears hurt to fall, showered, and called the adoption agency.

A Christmas Miracle was needed, and the funny thing about those is they tend to happen when it's least expected, whether by an act of a god or sheer magic of the season. You were at dinner with his parents, skating around the topic of children when Luke's phone rang. He glanced at the number, squeezed your hand, and left the room.

"Congratulations Mr. Hemmings, the application submitted by you and your wife has been approved." His heart stopped, a joyful laugh bubbling it's way out.

He ran back to the dining room and pulled you to him. "It's happening! It's happening, we're going to be parents!!"  

Michael: When you checked the forecast, you felt sick. Snow, icy temperatures, less daylight, no sunlight, you couldn't stand it. Waking up in the winter drained you. You isolated yourself from everyone and everything. All the things you enjoyed were gone with the arrival of cold days, colder nights, and too many people out shopping.

Bundled in a blanket, you trudged downstairs anti-depressant in hand. Michael was already snuggled in the breakfast nook looking every bit as adorable as ever. He watched you take your medication and offered his arms for a snuggle.

"I might be the dumbest boyfriend ever." His voice was still scratchy with sleep.

"What do you mean?" Were you really sleepy or was it the depression or the med? Regardless, you snuggled close to him.

"My family is in Australia, we should go spend some time down there."

"Mike I love you, but what's the point?"

His gave your nose a playful nibble, "The point is that winter causes you seasonal affective disorder right? So let's just go where it's not winter!"

You wanted to call him out on his idea, say it was silly or whatever but you couldn't find one single reason to. "I don't know, will it work?"

He shrugged in his usual careless manner, "Hell if I know, but it's worth trying. It'll be warm and sunny and we can finally have Christmas with my family instead of face timing my mom Christmas morning."

He had you there. If it helped you feel even a fraction better, it was worth it. If going to Sydney didn't do shit for your mental health, at least you'd be with family and Michael could spend Christmas at home.

"You're going to have to book the flight, I'm too tired to."

With a soft kiss and pat on the head, Michael grinned. "I booked it week ago. Just thought I'd surprise you with an early Christmas gift!" His green eyes twinkled and you smiled just a little.

[wutbju]

The Times They Showed Their Quality: My own experience with Liberty University’s treatment of faculty BRIAN MELTON·MONDAY, JUNE 24, 2019 Clarification: This note was written in direct response to comments from Liberty’s provost in a recent Christianity Today article claiming that the relationship between the LU administration and its faculty staff is “healthy”, and that the faculty is “completely comfortable with what [the administration] is doing,” and it should be read in that context. I offer this as a simple statement of my experience to serve as a corrective in honor of the many people whom I know wish they could speak out but can’t. Thanks in advance for taking this as nothing more or less than it claims to be. --Brian Anyone who is paying attention to criticisms of Liberty University these days is well familiar with the charge of “Fake News.” It is a common and mindless refrain, parroted back in obedience to The Donald’s talking points and it somehow resonates with otherwise intelligent people. It is also an easy charge to levy, as most of the time when people not connected to LU hear about nefarious happenings and underhanded actions, it is as “something that happened to this guy I heard about” or the like thanks to LU’s use of non-disclosure agreements. I never signed an NDA. So, I thought I might skip the rumor mill and share my own direct, first-hand experience with the administration’s behavior. What I can attest to is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg and not as bad as what has happened to others, but it marked the transition when, after fifteen years, I finally came to the definite conclusion that the upper administration at LU wasn’t simply self-serving or even inept, but fundamentally duplicitous. Worse, it demonstrated to me that they acted this way intentionally and with malice aforethought.

In 2014 my family and I moved back to the Lynchburg area, where I occupied a position as an Instructional Mentor, acting as a bridge between the College of General Studies and the College of Arts and Sciences. Previously, I had worked for LU full time residentially for over ten years. I served as a professor, chair of the curriculum committee, and moderator of the faculty senate during that time. I liked and respected (I still do) the people in those schools I worked with directly, and at the time we intended to spend the rest of our lives there. I figured whatever else happened, we would muddle through it and I would retire from LU when the time came. My point is that though I of course had my frustrations with the administration on some issues, but there was no ill will and I hoped to keep working for them for years to come.

One peculiarity of my position at the time was that it was “part-time full time.” Technically, I was a part time worker and I received none of the benefits that other faculty did, while at the same time I was counted as a “full time” faculty with a terminal degree for SACS purposes via a “limited benefit” contract (the sole “benefit” was that after filling out paperwork I could receive up to $400 a year to join professional associations).  I knew there would be none of the standard health or life insurance, tuition assistance, etc. going into the position and was fine with it, as we were allowed to take extra classes and make a comfortable sum that allowed me to pay for all the extras out of pocket. I recall speaking with my associate dean as late as 2015 and telling him that I would be happy doing this job until I retired.

Of course, the lack of medical coverage in particular was a complaint that many had, but I did not see it as a significant obstacle. Yes, it was on the unfair side to be a second-class faculty member who did not get the coverage others did, even though I did as much work, and getting on the school insurance would be a significant boon to our family. Still, I worked from home, was paid well, and just accepted it as a known downside of the specific job I had agreed to do. There had been constant rumors that the administration appreciated us and was taking steps to give us coverage, but nothing ever came of it. Until the Fall of 2016, that is.

That fall I received an email on a Friday afternoon (when few people would be expected to look at it, of course) informing me that I had worked enough to qualify for medical coverage under the university. I had one week to respond. If I didn’t I would immediately and permanently forfeit any claim to coverage now or in the future. As you can imagine, I didn’t wait! I responded immediately that I was grateful for the opportunity and to put me down for it. I also contacted both of my bosses, who were happy to hear that I had received coverage. Both promised to do everything they could do to make sure I kept it by giving me the required amount of work.The next week I called Human Resources to find out more. I spoke with the benefits coordinator, and told him how much I appreciated the gesture. He replied that he was glad to hear it and that LU was always happy to help its people. As he explained the details of the coverage, he was careful to sneak in a comment that if I ever happened to fall below the required line, I would lose my coverage. “Well,” I thought, “that’s fair.” And so I asked what I thought would be the obvious question: “Where is the line? How much do I have to work in order to rate coverage?” His reply was shady, and you could tell by the uncomfortable tone of his voice that he knew it too. “That’s proprietary information,” he said, “I can’t release it.”  “You can’t tell me at all?” I asked. “No” was the answer. My bosses, good people that they are, also both followed up with HR and they were both given the same answer.

From that moment, I knew that this was, in reality, nothing but an intentional set up. The reason they would tell no one where the line lay was because it was mobile--no one would ever cross it again. No matter how much we worked, it would always be “unfortunately” short of the goal. In fact, Liberty had obfuscated on Obamacare as long as they could, and now they were being forced to offer coverage to all full time workers. Rather than be frank about it, they were playing the situation off like this was a friendly and helpful boon to their employees, all the while laying plans to revoke the coverage at the first opportunity and blame it on said employees. It was as dishonest as it was obvious.

Sure enough, within a month, we began to get notifications of sudden “policy changes” that cut the financial rug out from under whole classes of faithful employees. My own turn at this came in December. In a move worthy of the counting house of Ebenezer Scrooge, four days before Christmas, I received an email informing me that I was to be locked out of any and all overload teaching effective January 1. For me, that amounted to an immediate pay cut of approximately a third of my yearly LU income. I was given approximately two weeks--including Christmas Eve and Day--to make adjustments. Never was an apology expressed, regrets offered, or even an acknowledgment made by anyone beyond my immediate superiors (who had no say in the matter) for the obvious effect this had on people’s lives or for the manner in which it was rolled out.  Over the next quarter, chaos ensued as the administration waffled back and forth about what to do next and my hapless bosses could only report what the whim of the day happened to be. One day I was looking at a 50% pay cut. A week later, the rumor was that my position was being eliminated. A week after that, it was 20%. Then 30%. etc. etc. etc.The following Fall, things finally settled out--as much as they do at Liberty, where things are constantly in flux as the latest disposable “rock star” tries to leave his mark. I ended up losing about 25% of my previous income potential and we were limited to a theoretical 30 hours per week of work. I emphasize “theoretical” because in fact no effort was made to track anything outside of teaching hours, which represented the hours for which we were actually paid. At the same time, Liberty’s “Co-Provost” announced sweeping changes to our positions requiring substantially more administrative work. Since administrative hours were never counted or totaled nor paid individually, in fact our workload as a whole went up substantially while our overall pay potential dropped significantly. Perhaps worse, we were now charged with tracing faculty compliance via a tool called the “FAR” which tracked and logged every single time a faculty member was late doing anything. While that information had been available to chairs and deans for years, now it was forced down to even the adjunct level and I, as an Instructional Mentor, was required to contact the faculty under me and ask for an explanation any and every time I saw a “red flag.” Miss posting your Monday announcement by five minutes this week? I have to demand a justification that I would log with the university on your record. Are you a little late in grading the papers the university suddenly required you to return to the students two days earlier than before? I’ll be checking up on you for an excuse why you shouldn’t be fired. And with the “Co-Provost” (What the heck is that, anyway? The real provost pretending to not be? The actual provost’s personal assistant?) constantly haranguing us with threats that there were “hundreds of people lined up for your job”, threats so thinly veiled that they insulted your intelligence as much as they frightened you, there was plenty of angst to go around.And so I found myself in an interesting position: I was working full time hours at a part time job that had at least full time expectations, being told that I could get in trouble if I didn’t accomplish my full time work in my part time hours. I operated on a one year contract with no job security under implied threats of “non-renewal” delivered via smarmy video messages that tracked how much of each you watched. I was part of an increasingly Orwellian surveillance system that meant I was party to inflicting all of this onto others. (Let us not forget academic standards that had fallen dramatically over recent years and about which I could perhaps write another whole article.) And I was supposed to be happy about it--sacrificing my time and my family for the university, but not being able to expect a scrap of loyalty or genuine appreciation out of anyone above the deans’ level in return. The only safe words that could be used to express serious dissent were, “Thank you sir! May I have another?” All of this was happening in the name of Christ, and every complaint was expected to be excused for the sake of the mission, a mission that it was increasingly clear the school’s own president regarded as secondary to making money and winning football games (since confirmed directly in a recent tweet). It should come as no surprise, then, that in the summer of 2017, when I was approached about an opportunity to teach in Europe, I decided to leave. And the medical coverage? In September of 2017 I received the equivalent of a medical “Dear John” letter, regretfully informing me that since I simply hadn’t worked hard enough in the past year, the university had no choice but to end my medical coverage. At the time, my wife and I were actively being treated with expensive anti-biotics for Lyme Disease and a malarial-type infection she had picked up on a mission trip. My new chair in LUO (my previous one had quit in disgust) went on the line for me to try to reverse the decision, but was told to sit down and be quiet--the administration didn’t care and he was risking his own position by speaking up.  In the final tally, I most likely could have made ends meet on the new salary they were offering, but money wasn’t the central problem. Neither was the still-absent medical coverage; we had lived without it before and could again. The most important issue for me was character. I had to be able to rely on Liberty University to treat me and others fairly and honestly if I were to bank my family’s welfare on working for them. My own personal narrative aside, I knew of many other people treated worse than I was--a whole list of persons I liked and respected. If the last few years had taught me anything, it was that while there are still many excellent people to be found there, Liberty University as a whole was as shifty, dishonorable, unprincipled, and hypocritical a work environment as could be offered. I could not trust my family to them, and I increasingly found it hard to have my reputation associated with an organization that had proved itself so often without honor. (Yes, I’m old fashioned that way.)  It was a hard decision. We love our friends in the Lynchburg area very much and we love the Virginia mountains. We love our church, and, as I said, we planned to grow old and die there. We miss them all badly, even as we travel and experience Europe. Unfortunately, Liberty’s behavior and lack of honor made it virtually impossible to stay--for us at least.

Moving into 2018, I learned that more cuts were likely. (Despite what Provost Hicks asserts, it is a relatively recent thing for faculty to be completely surprised by their non-renewal. At one point there was a written agreement that faculty would be notified by January if it were a possibility, and even later people were unofficially informed.) I approached my bosses and let them know I would be leaving at the end of the year in the hopes that if they knew it, someone else’s job might be secure (I was told that it did save a position). In true LU style, I later received official notification in a boiler plate email that they had regretfully decided not to renew the contract I had already informed them I wasn’t seeking. I arrived at LU in the Fall of 2003 to find an earnest, if humanly fallible university making its very best effort to transform itself into the Notre Dame of Evangelicalism. I left a financially successful behemoth where real ministry and Christian charity is carried out by earnest believers in spite of the effort and example of its upper administration to the contrary. Increasingly, LU is becoming more the Harvard of Evangelicalism than the Notre Dame (academic standards definitely not withstanding). It is a university where the original mission has been sacrificed in favor of a political agenda and a secular system of situational morality, Liberty falling to the right wing in counterpoint to Harvard’s left. Though the campus may be bigger and more beautiful than ever before, sadly, thanks to the trajectory of its current administration, its reflection of Christ is not. 

[constructionaccounting]

451: What Is Your Contractor Superpower?

This Podcast Is Episode Number 451, And It's About What Is Your Contractor Superpower?

As a Construction Contractor, much of your world is Outside The Box. You make what seems impossible and turn it into a finished product; the whole house remodel, kitchen or bath remodel, new roof, install an attic fan, replace windows, deck, patio, hot tub, swimming pool, children's backyard playhouse. 

  The Handyman Contractor fixes "Things," which are very important to the clients who need them—fixing a door, hanging a closet rod, moving something, removing something. Compared to a Whole House Remodel, it may seem like you are not doing anything. The reality is that to the person who needed the work done that a few simple little things may change their whole world for the better. Your Work as a Handyman Contractor brings joy to their life. Be Proud of it. No job is insignificant, and no construction business is too small for us.

  I want to be the person who says Merry Christmas! You have earned it. 

  It's the holiday season which means everyone is busy thinking of everyone else. Wrapping up the end of the year, getting one more thing done that makes sense. Many Holiday movies are variations of "Scrooge" based on "This Is Good" and "That Is Bad." Anyone who has not had any challenges in life has been either extremely lucky or in a very protected bubble. 

Life Happens. Challenges Happen - some good, some bad depending on the perception of the event.

We can all look back and see what we might have done differently. The question is: Did we make a decision? Did that decision seem to be the best decision to make based on the information on hand at that time?

If you and I make a thoughtful decision (not a knee-jerk reaction), then it is a good decision. Sometimes we think - I should have, could have, if and only, but, because and [fill in the blank]. These are negative thoughts that are not useful. All negative thoughts drag you down into a wrong mental place.

I offer The Serenity Prayer As A Beacon Of Truth: 

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Between religions, the name of God may change; however, from my viewpoint, the message of the prayer is the same all over the world, no matter the religion. The key is that you have a choice to believe, what you want to believe, and how to practice your faith. The sun rises and sets for each one of us every day.

Embrace Life

Enjoy The Day – Moment By Moment.

Do Something Fun.

Watch The Sunset.

Listen To The Birds Sing.

Hear A Train Whistle.

Rejoice in the laughter of children, for they are embracing their world with complete abandonment at that moment. Smile. Think happy thoughts. The simplest things are free.

Every day, everyone can find a reason to be frustrated if they are looking from that particular view.

The other driver is driving too slow, too fast, recklessly, music is too loud, passing out hand gestures, honking their horn, on their cell phone, texting, car issues of smoke from the tailpipe, car smells, bad tires, no headlights. The list of things to be annoyed about is endless; no one is exempt.

While we are annoyed, there is nothing more dangerous than someone crossing the middle of the street, at night, wearing all dark clothes, either being clueless of the danger or playing chicken with cars. Drivers, everywhere at some point during the day or nighttime hours, will see it happen repeatedly.

It used to be when we heard someone who appeared to be talking to themselves that they were (to put it politely) a little troubled in the head (an old-fashioned saying). Now with cell phones and wireless headsets or earpieces, it is a little harder to pick out the people who appear to be talking to invisible friends.

What is your Contractor Superpower? The power of choice. 

Increase your pricing

Which projects do you say YES to

Collect job deposits

Ask the client for money

Your working hours

The area of the country where you want to live

You have the power to choose what is best for you, your loved ones, and your construction company.

It is easy to listen to the news and become depressed, agitated, or think the day's challenges are hopeless to overcome. Mother Teresa (of Calcutta) said it best: We, the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, with so little, for so long, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing.

Life is a journey that happens one day at a time, one decision at a time, one choice at a time. Tomorrow is a new day with every potential of being happier if we allow it. We will continue empowering and advocating for contractors and construction business owners like you.

Wishing you a Very Merry Christmas!

About The Author:

Sharie DeHart, QPA is the co-founder of Business Consulting And Accounting in Lynnwood, Washington. She is the leading expert in managing outsourced construction bookkeeping and accounting services companies and cash management accounting for small construction companies across the USA. She encourages Contractors and Construction Company Owners to stay current on their tax obligations and offers insights on how to manage the remaining cash flow to operate and grow their construction company sales and profits so they can put more money in the bank. Call 1-800-361-1770 or sharie@fasteasyaccounting.com

  Check out this episode about Contractors Marketing - Accounting - Production (M.A.P.)!

[artkaninchenbau]

I really hope Gladstone is going to appear in more episodes of the reboot, mainly because I��m really facinated by how his luck functions in the DT Reboot’s universe and what it thus implies about Donald...

I know I’ve rambled about this subject in the past on multiple occassions, but Gladstone Gander’s luck has the potential to be the most horrifying part of the entire Duckverse, depending on how it’s written. There’s two main ways Gladstone’s luck works; either he has Absolute Luck, or it is Flawed.

The main concept always remains the same: Gladstone Gander is so lucky that he doesn’t have to work or really do anything, in the end he will one way or another benefit from what has happened. He will get something out of it. But how this remains true has always been different among comic writers

Some people like to make Gladstone straight up worship Lady Luck as a goddess and making him work and depend on his luck. Some writers like to make Gladstone’s luck an occasional burden, Gladstone having trouble leaving his house that’s filled to the brim with free things he has won, because the second he steps out he’ll win something else and will have even less roo, is a fairly common comic scenario. And some writers like to like to put a simple downside some of Gladstone’s lucky moments (for example, winning a ticket to a cruise but his roommate is really loud and annoying).

These are all what I considder to be Flawed Luck, where his luck does have bring a downside to his life that seems contradictatory to the concept of “lucky” (although the burden aspect makes it more realistic). Absolute Luck however, has none of these downsides. Absolute Luck is like a law of the universe, that whatever happens, in the end Gladstone Gander mustn’t have to work and must benefit from everything. And so far, the DuckTales reboot seems like it’s leaning more towards this type of luck, and like in most comics where this type of luck has been used, it’s kinda horrifying to think about

You might be thinking that “hey, Gladstone ending up imprisoned and needing help to escape isn’t lucky” and you’re not, that’s not “lucky”. What is “lucky”, is that said unfortunate event helped HDL regain their faith in Donald, increasing their wish to stay with him (and Scrooge) despite cousin Gladstone being more than able to give them better living conditions, and even allowing Donald to escape instead of leaving him trapped forever with the luck spirit.

To explain why that episode was lucky for Gladstone, we need to take a step back and talk about something else: Why wouldn’t Huey, Dewey and Louie want to live with Gladstone, what’s keeping them from staying with him? If they for whatever reason came to the conclusion that living with Uncle Donald and/or Uncle Scrooge was somehow unbearable (poor living conditions due to Donald having a hard time both finding and keeping a job, while Scrooge is a stingy miser and won’t allow for much better living conditions that what Donald can provide), why wouldn’t they demand to live with Gladstone who can provide for them and give them everything they need and want? Hell, the boys pretty much agreed that Gladstone was a cooler uncle than Donald is in the begining of the episode, so on paper them living with Gladstone would be a better situation for them! ...But it wouldn’t be better for Gladstone;

While I’m sure Gladstone’s luck would allow him to get a nanny to look after the three, he’d still be stuck with the boys, he’d still be responsible for them, he’d still have to take them into considderation when doing anything (be it going on a trip and making sure no one gets lost/hurt, or just going on a date with... does Daisy even exist in the reboot..???). Even if Gladstone’s luck would look after the boys for him, it still would be a burden (even a minor one) on him and his luck. And while living with Gladstone would be better in IRL-terms, Gladstone can’t really fulfill the boys’ need for adventure the same way Scrooge can, and he certainly can’t protect the boys like Donald can; that’s work, and his luck is trying to protect him from work, so the boys’ lives would end up being much different from what the show is like.

In fact, we have an example of what it would be like if the boys had always been living with Gladstone instead of Donald; here’s a snipet from Don Rosa’s “The Duck Who Never Was” (1994), a story in which Donald goes into an alternative reality where he had never been born...

Of course, it’s hard to imagine that happening to the boys in the DT Reboot if they moved in with Gladstone (well, except for Louie), but this does give us an idea of what life would be like for them; sitting on the couch, doing pretty much nothing. It wouldn’t be good for them, and Gladstone wouldn’t be fond of the arrangement either I’m sure.

And this is why Gladstone’s luck made sure that by the end of episode 6, HDL thought Donald was cool and inspiring enough to want to life keeping on living with him instead of Gladstone. This is why Gladstone’s luck made sure Donald would keep on trying to win the race and free the whole family. This is why Gladstone’s luck allowed Donald’s bad luck to dissapear for a moment, just to allow him escape at the end*. Everything in this episode happened for a reason. Everything, from Donald’s bad luck making him look bad, to Gladstone finding a $20 bill on the floor that made him lose the race. All of these things had the happen, because they were crucial to making sure one way or another, Gladstone’s life would continue to be as easy (or in other words, lucky) for him as it had been up until now.

That is what makes Gladstone’s luck so scary. If everything happened according to the Will of Gladstone’s Luck, it means that Donald Duck has no free will or ability to do what he wants, he is a puppet who exists to do Gladstone Gander’s dirty work for him. It’s not that Donald managed to come out on top by doing his best, Gladstone’s luck just allowed, no, FORCED Donald to save the day. Because if he didn’t, Gladstone would’ve ended up either a prisoner of the luck spirit, or potentially as the new foster parent of HDL.

Donald won, because as Gladstone’s luck dictates, not having to work is lucky, and Donald, being the embodiment of unlucky, has no other choice but to work so that Gladstone doesn’t have to, and Gladstone’s Luck is Absolute.

“I literally can’t lose”

And this is a fate that Donald will never be able to escape. As long as Gladstone lives, Donald can’t give up, he must keep doing whatever he’s doing, because that somehow benefits Gladstone, and that is scary.

*Side rant: I mean, if Donald’s bad luck had truly been bad, his bad luck should’ve turned good so that the luck spirit would’ve wanted to keep Donald forever; that’d be a truly unlucky situation for Donald. But because his bad luck stayed bad, Donald was able to escape, making his escape lucky. I am absolutely willing to blame this kind of confusing paradox on Gladstone’s luck

[swipestream]

Conan: Phoenix on the Sword

“KNOW, oh prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars—Nemedia, Ophir, Brythunia, Hyperborea, Zamora with its dark-haired women and towers of spider-haunted mystery, Zingara with its chivalry, Koth that bordered on the pastoral lands of Shem, Stygia with its shadow-guarded tombs, Hyrkania whose riders wore steel and silk and gold. But the proudest kingdom of the world was Aquilonia, reigning supreme in the dreaming west. Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen- eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandalled feet.”

—The Nemedian Chronicles

***

With these words the most famed of the many famous creations of Robert E Howard, Conan the Barbarian, sprang to vivid life in the pages of WEIRD TALES magazine, 1933.

  Conan is somewhat more deep and complex than the cartoon image of a brute in a bearskin loincloth found the popular imagination, with a dancing girl clutching his brawny thigh and a devil-beast dying under his bloody ax. The theme and philosophy he represents is not the product of adolescent neurosis (as certain bitter critics would have us believe) but of somber, even cynical, reflection on the age of the world, the costs of civilization, and the frailty of man.

Recall the era.

1933 was in an uneasy period wedged between two World Wars. Trench warfare killed whole villages of their sons in a single hour. Notions of heroism and honor, the glamor and chivalry of war, were also killed. Science had been a benevolent genii, but now was famed for making weapons of indiscriminate and dispassionate mass-slaughter.

The economic boom of the 1920’s came to its inevitable bust and crack-up. The world was bellycrawling through a depression. Roosevelt had just been elected President. At this time, there was not even the foxfire of Keynesian economics to grant a glint of false hope to a bankrupt world. The General Theory of Employment, with its false promises, was not to be published for three years.

The Lone Ranger made his debut on the radio to the stirring strains of the William Tell Overture. The Shadow, with his eerie laugh and occult powers, was but three years old. The atmospheric film THE MUMMY, staring Boris Karloff, so akin to Howard’s writing in theme and mood, had debuted but a year before.

The academic world was infatuated with faddish notions about eugenics. Civilization failed to cull the weak, and so carried the seeds of its own degeneration — or so the theory ran. The political world was deeply bitter about failed promises of peace which, in the Victorian Era, but twenty years before, had seemed easily within reach. Scientifically-managed economies were all the rage, and a contempt for the common man.

In America, the Western Frontier was closing. Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed, Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone, and all the men of myth or history who brought civilization out of savage wilderness had apparently done their work too well.

Civilization was triumphant, but was grown gross, corrupt, vulgar, and small. Something was missing. The spirit of the age languished.

Civilization had lost faith in civilization.

During such a time, the imagination of readers and writers in the more imaginative genres are likely to meditate on what had been lost, and at what cost.

During such a time, men romanticize the savage. It is only natural.

There is no shame in romanticism. In fiction, the mood and theme and atmosphere of a fable conveys more clearly the spirit of what the soul is pondering than any dry and academic discussion. That is the whole point of stories, sublime stories as well as simple ones.

The tale puts before the mind’s eye an imaginative exaggeration or pristine example, often ornamented or disguised, of those things moving deep in the heart of the age in which the tale-teller lives or, if he is a true artist, of all ages. Some exaggerations or examples are more than this: they are archetypes.

That Robert E Howard with the invention of Conan the Barbarian created an archetype is difficult to deny.

Like Sherlock Holmes, like Ebenezer Scrooge, like Gandalf the Gray, certain characters, once finding a home in the imagination of a wide readership, become the by-word for their type, the standard against which other detectives or misers or wizards or barbarians are judged. If their stories never go out of print, if their yarns spread to all other mediums, if they are copied by countless epigones, that is a fair sign that the author touched some deep matter in the human spirit. The character is called archetypal when he is a lamp by which one sees in such depths what would otherwise be obscure.

A mere flat and insubstantial copy of an archetype is called a stereotype. Conan, like many another archetype, has been copied into countless stereotypes, from Thongor of Lemuria to Fafhrd of Newhon to He-Man of Eternia to Thundarr the Barbarian to the Dar the Beastmaster. Gary Gygax devoted the barbarian character class as an homage to Conan, even as the Ranger class is an homage to Aragorn son of Arathorn.

Sadly, sometimes such insubstantial cardboard copies of Conan have been perpetrated by authors purporting to write or finish a Conan story.  An archetype differs from a mere stereotype by having more than one aspect to him, usually paradoxical.

In this case, the brilliance of Robert E. Howard was to combine and cross-pollinate the ideas and tropes of four different ingredients of story telling.

First, the idea that civilizations inevitably decline and fall, only to be replaced by robust barbarians, was popularized by Oswald Spengler the in early 1920’s. This idea, with its oriental hopelessness of endless cycles, radically challenged both the soberly tragic Christian view of the Fall of Man, and the fatuously optimistic Victorian view of an endless Ascent of Man.

Second, Howard did not invent the weird tale, the historical novel, the picaresque novel or the action yarn. But he did combine them in a new form.

Third, the idea that the world was ancient, and formed by successive catastrophes was common to the speculations of geology in that day, and taken up with enthusiasm by the Theosophists.

Finally, the noble savage of Rousseau is a stock character in literature, and not original to Howard.

When Howard did that was original, and brilliantly so, was place the stock character of Rousseau in the last place one would normally look for him: inside the weird tale with its uncanny moods and themes, and striding the lands of the cataclysmic, prehistoric world of the Theosophists, in the shadows of the fallen towers of Atlantis, amid the fall and rise of the empires and kingdoms ground by the merciless cycles of Spengler, treading jeweled thrones under his sandalled feet.

The plot of Phoenix on the Sword is straightforward, and at the risk of uttering spoilers, let us summarize its five acts thus:

In the first act we see overhear an ambitious courtier named Ascalante scheming with his slave to overthrow the throne of Aquilonia. The conspirators are stock characters from an historical novel: an ambitious count, a treasonous commander of the guard, a fat baron, an idealistic poet.

What takes the tale out of the tropes of an historical novel and into the world of fantasy is that the dark slave, Thoth-amon, is a necromancer of the south, a practitioner of the dark arts, who lost his power over the forces of the night world due to the loss of his magic ring.

Stock characters these conspirators may be, but in Howard’s hands, something more.  For example, when two of the conspirators discuss the poet Rinaldo, whose songs have set the hearts of the common man against the king, this wry observation is spoken:

“Alone of us all, Rinaldo has no personal ambition. … Poets always hate those in power. To them perfection is always just behind the last corner, or beyond the next. They escape the present in dreams of the past and future.”

The second act introduces Conan the King, and grants a hint of the Hyborian Age that sets the backdrop.

The King is introduced as a man fatigued of the burden of kingship. This is an odd introduction for our noble savage. His first words are a lament for the raw freedom of his barbarian days:

“… these matters of statecraft weary me as all the fighting I have done never did.[ … ] When I overthrew the old dynasty, it was easy enough, though it seemed bitter hard at the time. … When King Numedides lay dead at my feet and I tore the crown from his gory head and set it on my own, I had reached the ultimate border of my dreams. I had prepared myself to take the crown, not to hold it. In the old free days all I wanted was a sharp sword and a straight path to my enemies. Now no paths are straight and my sword is useless.”

Like the USA in the 1930’s after the end of the roaring 20’s, he is in a depression following his years of good times.

Conan and his chancellor discuss the unrest in the city. Conan makes an observation about the poet, Rinaldo, whom the chancellor wants hanged. But Conan replies that “A great poet is greater than any king. His songs are mightier than my scepter… I shall die and be forgotten, but Rinaldo’s songs will live for ever.”

Here is another subtlety of Howard’s. He has the civilized man, the chancellor, quite pragmatically call for the death of a political agitator. Conan, however, has something like the Viking’s instinctive reverence for bards. The uncivilized man, ironically, has the greater respect for the mystical vocation of the poet, that most civilized of professions.

The atmosphere created in these first two brief acts is redolent of Spengler, that is, a merciless cycle of history without beginning or end. The reader is not reading of ancient Rome, whose monuments stand to this day, but of kingdoms entirely destroyed by time. Nothing is described as stable. Aquilonia is named by the narrator as the greatest of these pre-Aryan post-Atlantis kingdoms, and it is in the hands of a barbarian reaver and rootless adventurer. The tension is between the primitive savage, who is hale if rough, and the overcivilized decadents, no less savage than he. The idea of glad progress leading to a utopian resting place, seen often in writings of the science fiction of the generation before Howard, is nowhere in evidence.

I note with some interest in this tale and those that follow that the arms and armor of the various nations of the Hyborian Age occupy all stages of ancient and medieval military technology. We have knights in plate, complete with cuirass and sallet, products equal to the later Middle Ages; with them are horse-archers and spearmen in byrnie and bascinet or adorned in the silks of Saracens, equal to the Dark Ages; charioteers in the panoply of a Homeric warlord with breastplate and greaves of gleaming bronze; soldiers in leather or linen armed with recurve bow or sling or truncheon; Neolithic fighters in grass skirts wielding tomahawks.

The admixture of periods not only lends local color to the tale, and lends delight to the military history buff or recreationist that tales like these did so much to create, it subtly emphasizes the unoptimistic atmosphere: there is no progress that stays, no civilization high enough to be immune from oblivion.

The nations mentioned on a map the King is drawing during this scene play no part in this story, but the mention is necessary to establish an essential element of the unforgettable atmosphere.

“Here is Cimmeria, where I was born. […] A gloomier land never was—all of hills, darkly wooded, under skies nearly always gray, with winds moaning drearily down the valleys.

“[The men there] have no hope here or hereafter. Their gods are Crom and his dark race, who rule over a sunless place of everlasting mist, which is the world of the dead.”

Cimmeria is a name taken from Greek mythology. It is a land where no sun shines, at the edge of the world, and nigh the gates to Hell. Crom is a reference to Crom Cruach, a devil or dragon of the prechristian Irish, adored with human sacrifice. The word itself means crooked or stooped.

Conan then names the nations north of Cimmeria:

“Asgard and Vanaheim,” Prospero scanned the map. “By Mitra, I had almost believed those countries to have been fabulous.”

As does the reader. Asgard is the Norse home of their gods, and Vanaheim of their titans, called Vanir. Mitra is a Vedic god of the Aryan invaders of India, originally the guardian of divine order,  later the god of dawn.

Conan describes the northerners as “Tall and fair and blue-eyed. Their god is Ymir, the frost-giant, and each tribe has its own king.” Elsewhere we are told the southern nation of Stygia –– another Greek word –– a land of magicians with a distinctly Ethiopian flavor, worships the snake god Set.

Ymir is the foe of Odin and his brothers in Norse myth. Set is the treasonous and fratricidal brother of the Egyptian god Osiris. Later still, Conan swears by the goddesses of his people: “By Badb, Morrigan, Macha and Nemain!” These are all proper pagan Celtic divinities, murderous and warlike as pagan goddesses are wont to be.

The selection of names is not random. Howard is here indulging in two theories. The first is called Euhemerism, which holds that myths are based on forgotten historical persons and places. To create the atmosphere of a world lying in the twilight just beyond the reach of the lamp of history, Howard has any place names remembered in myths of the survivors we know from history be the last relic of lost prehistory.

A similar theory holds that the devils of any mythology are the gods of the conquered natives. Examples abound. The Baal of the Canaanites becomes a devil to the conquering Israelites. Chronos worshipped by the Mycenaeans becomes a kinslaying baby-eating cannibal to the conquering Hellenes, whose great god Pan, goat-headed and armed the Neptune’s trident, in turn, becomes the Lucifer of the Christians. The Deva worshipped by Iranians become devils for the Indians while the Asura worshipped by Indians become devils for Iranians.

Hence for Howard, working backward, Crom becomes the god of some nation the forgotten ancestors of the Irish conquered, Ymir of those conquered and forgotten in the far north, Set of those in the far south.

It is a clever writing’s trick to use names half-familiar to the reader, rich with dark connotations. Such names not only sound properly pagan, savage, and ancient to average reader’s ear, but to readers catching the reference, these also create an impression of appalling spans of history that have overturned all other memory of those times.

In the third act, via unexplained Dickensian coincidence, Thoth-amon recovers his magic ring, and our historical drama steps fully into the world of HP Lovecraft.

There was a movement in the air about him, such a swirl as is made in water when some creature rises to the surface. A nameless, freezing wind blew on him briefly, as if from an opened Door. Thoth felt a presence at his back, but he did not look about. He kept his eyes fixed on the moonlit space of marble, on which a tenuous shadow hovered. As he continued his whispered incantations, this shadow grew in size and clarity, until it stood out distinct and horrific. Its outline was not unlike that of a gigantic baboon, but no such baboon ever walked the earth, not even in Stygia. Still Thoth did not look, but drawing from his girdle a sandal of his master—always carried in the dim hope that he might be able to put it to such use—he cast it behind him.

“Know it well, slave of the Ring!” he exclaimed. “Find him who wore it and destroy him! Look into his eyes and blast his soul, before you tear out his throat! Kill him! Aye,” in a blind burst of passion, “and all with him!”

Likewise in the fourth act Conan in a dream is summoned across space and time into a black crypt carved with the Nameless Old Ones. The shade of Epemitreus the Sage, dead fifteen hundred years, places on the sword of Conan, the mystic mark of the phoenix for which the story is named, to allow his mighty blade to bite the black shadow summoned by the slave of Set.

(It is a pleasure and an act of poetry just to type those words: to allow his mighty blade to bite the black shadow summoned by the slave of Set. This is a true tale of uncanny adventure, weird menace and derring-do.)

These two scenes reveal that the reader is being carried unawares into a new genre, one largely if not wholly of Howard’s invention, the crossbreed son of the historical romance, the action yarn, and the weird tale.

A word of explanation is in order because this last genre has largely fallen out of fashion.

The weird tale is a rare genre even in its own day, and even more rare now. It is not horror, albeit it follows certain horror protocols and overlaps with it, because it is not meant to produce a reaction of pity, fear and terror. A vampire or a devil can raise gooseflesh, as can a scene of serial killer in a hockey mask or an Islamic terrorist torturing a child to death.

Nor is the weird tale genre, strictly speaking, science fiction or fantasy, even if follow these protocols in placing scene in worlds other than our own, severed from us by deep time. The point of a weird tale, as the point of a ghost story, is to create a sensation in the reader of numinous disquiet.

The essential element of the weird tale is the sense of the uncanny and preternatural.

HP Lovecraft is sometime alleged to be a poor writer of horror or science fiction by those who mistake his genre. The eldritch and elder beings that people his dark and vast cosmos are not necessarily extra-terrestrials rather than unearthly. The point is to unnerve the reader on an intellectual rather than a visceral level, but showing him an immense vista, a vision, of a universe indifferent to man, to which his mind is not suited.

In science fiction, particularly in early science fiction, HG Wells in THE TIME MACHINE or Olaf Stabledon in LAST AND FIRST MEN, captured a sense of geologic ages and astronomical distances that forms the staple of the weird tale, because such vast things are uncanny. Yet Wells and Stabledon in their tales were making a comment about the future evolution of the human race, and primarily stayed within the bounds of a universe science can understand.

The difference is this: when the figure in the lab coat stands staring in awe at the glowing beast seen dimply on the misty moor at midnight, and says “there must be a rational explanation for this!”, in the science fiction story, as in an episode of SCOOBY DOO, he is always right. The creature is a man in a mask. In the weird tale, he is never right. In a weird tale, the man turns out to be a creature in a mask, perhaps a Mi-Go from Pluto.

Having the sinister figure last seen perched on the peak of a sinking iceberg while howling and superstitious Eskimos worship it with grisly rites turn out to be Frankenstein’s Monster or Count Dracula might be a perfectly sound plot twist in a horror story, but these figures are from stories we know. Even a supernatural creature like Count Dracula is somewhat familiar: we know his home is Transylvania, and his weakness is to the Crucifix. He comes from the fields we know. But should the sinister figure worshipped by Eskimos be from Pluto, over four billion miles away, or reincarnated from primordial Lemuria over two million years ago, he is from beyond the fields we know, and the aura of the weird and uncanny clings to him.

So, here. The thing summoned by the art and sent by the hate of Thoth-Amon is never clearly seen, never even given a name.

A soldier on guard without the walls yelled in startled horror as a great loping black shadow with flaming eyes cleared the wall and swept by him with a swirling rush of wind. But it was gone so swiftly that the bewildered warrior was left wondering whether it had been a dream or a hallucination.

The brief mentions of the deeps of time by the dream sequence brings up another point: It is not just cities and nations that rise and fall in the world of the Thurian and Hyborian Age, but continents. Howard linked his Conan tales together with those of Kull of Atlantis and Bran Mak Morn and Solomon Kane to create a vast tapestry. Here we see but the first threads of it.

Permit me to digress on this point, since it is one I did not notice when I first read such tales as a schoolboy. Perhaps I was too green, or too inattentive to the tale, to understand the significance of the setting.

The sole mention of Atlantis in the opening paragraph, above, is significant. Howard was much influenced in building his fictional world by the writings of the Theosophists, who, unlike him, did not admit they were inventing fiction. Their theory ran that five races of man ruled earth in times past: the long forgotten Polarians and Hyperboreans in antediluvian eons; then Lemurians, who are ancestors of the Picts; then Atlanteans; then modern man.

This was before the theory of Continental Drift was known, and so the speculation that the continents rose and sank only by cataclysmic upheavals was far from farfetched.

Between and within each of these periods, Howard liberally invented continents flooded until only their mountainpeaks remained as islands, volcanic overthrows of vast islands, and elsewhere lands rising suddenly out of the ocean, ringed by tidal waves and global earthquakes. So the Atlantis of Kull, another character of Howard’s shared background, broke and sank, leaving behind islands that lasted another melancholy age; so the lands known to Conan rose up where now Eurasia and Africa stand, but with the Mediterranean not yet opened, and a sea where now the dry Sahara gasps not yet closed.

Whether a world of successive cataclysms is a properly science fictional setting or not is open to debate, depending on how one judges the theories no longer held as plausible, or how much rigor one insists a story have to be shelved next to works by Wells and Verne. It is not a debate I here address.

Instead I submit that a theory with slight scientific backing, or none, when used as the premise or setting for an uncanny tale, better serves its purpose than a widely regarded theory. To hold that men are evolved from apes by the intervention of mysterious aliens, as in Clarke’s 2001 A SPACE ODYSSEY, provokes no sense of the unnatural or the uncanny needed for a wield tale. Holding that men were devised as empty slave-bodies and carrying vessels for the energy-based Original Masters of Alpha Draconis, whence all tales of demonic possession or mystic prophecy arise, on the other hand, has that gloomy atmosphere of creepy almost-making-sense which crackpot theories provoke. This is apt for a mood of weirdness.

But even if this were not so, the world of successive cataclysms captures the grim mood of the Hindu mystic, where a Kali Yuga routinely wipes out all life in the universe, only to have it start again. The Ecpyrosis of the Roman Stoics was the same idea, and said the whole cosmos periodically burned to ash and was reborn. And the successive destructions whispered in Aztec legends, where different generations of man and god alike are obliterated, all these and others capture the pagan spirit and atmosphere needed for the Hyborian Age of Conan.

The Theosophists are merely the most recent intrusion of pagan and oriental ideas into the West, the home of that unique idea of history as a story never seen elsewhere: the story of the Fall of Man on the one hand, with its promise of salvation, and its weak counter story of an Ascent of Man, with its boast of man saving himself. In the endless cycles of the pagan view, the snake eats its own tail, and no final victory ever comes, no salvation. Hence the Theosophists exactly capture both the pagan melancholy and the weird tales weirdness needed for a Conan story. Howard’s use of their material is masterful.

Let us return to the plot.

In the final act, all the threads come together, and we have our battle scene:

Conan put his back against the wall and lifted his ax. He stood like an image of the unconquerable primordial—legs braced far apart, head thrust forward, one hand clutching the wall for support, the other gripping the ax on high, with the great corded muscles standing out in iron ridges, and his features frozen in a death snarl of fury—his eyes blazing terribly through the mist of blood which veiled them. The men faltered—wild, criminal and dissolute though they were, yet they came of a breed men called civilized, with a civilized background; here was the barbarian—the natural killer. They shrank back—the dying tiger could still deal death.

Conan sensed their uncertainty and grinned mirthlessly and ferociously. “Who dies first?” he mumbled through smashed and bloody lips.

This is not a story about a schoolgirl remembering a stolen kiss from an older boy and contemplating her delicate pastel emotions.  This is a tale of bloodshed, of eldritch shadows, of rough men ready to die but full of roaring life. Such savagery seems bright only against a sufficiently dark background.

The barbarian of gigantic melancholy and gigantic mirth here is set against the shadow haunted cosmos of Lovecraftian weirdness, striding continents overturned by the cataclysms of Theosophists, and conquering cities doomed by Spenglerian cycles of history. Such a figure has a strange but clear appeal to it. Here is the old idea of Achilles’ bargain, who accepts a short life as the price for a glorious one.

The tale is romance. Barbarism is romanticized here just as we also see in A PRINCESS OF MARS by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and just as we also see in pirate stories or yarns of the Old West, where the Sioux or Apache are portrayed as savage but honorable warriors, graced with a rough chivalry surpassing the utilitarian cunning Spanish or British colonists. Again and again, Conan is said to have a vitality and strength civilized men have forgotten how to find.

The cruel reality of savage life is, of course, is passed by without mention. Such injected realism would defeat the story’s purpose and cheat the reader, who is looking for the cold shock of excitement that comes from the mingle hope and nostalgia of glamorizing the past.

These works are for boys and for men who have not lost the enthusiasm of boys. These works are for readers who are justifiably weary of the cobwebby regulations, courtesies, and falsehoods of polite society, nannying, nagging, and the dreary minutia of a corrupt civilization.

Such boys, spirits untested, stare at the wild expanse of untamed nature, and wonder if they are equal to the task of conquest; such men, spirits unbowed, see the corruption of overfed cities, dirty with centuries of ill-gotten wealth, and yearn for fires from heaven to overturn them in acts of unearthly cleansing.

At such times, man and boy alike is wont to call on the spirit of barbarism to refresh his soul, to remind him of the simple and manly truths of strength and steel, of straight talk and plain passion, and how men must fight if the horrors of night are to be kept at bay.

The world on the eve of World War Two, caught as it was in the deep corruption of socialism in Europe, the nightmare horrors of Stalinism in Russia, and the fatuous economic mismanagement of Hoover and Roosevelt at home, was ripe for this refreshing dream of barbarism.

Melancholy as this savage Conan may be, he still was upright, unbowed, uncowed, and, more to the point, unafraid of the uncanny mysteries hovering thick and black about his toppling throne.

He is heathen through and through, even to the solemn resignation to fate and death, but he thereby retains the gloomy grandeur of those ancient and stoic pagans, so merely opposite to the cowardly bullies and whiners that dominate our headlines.

There are times when the corruption of civilization grows too great, and the hands itch for a battleaxe and a straight path to the skulls of the enemy. Howard lived in such an age. As do we.

Conan: Phoenix on the Sword published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi

[constructionaccounting]

0248: Contractors Need To Reward Themselves

This Podcast Is Episode Number 0248, And It Will Be About Contractors Need To Reward Themselves

 It's the Holiday Season which means everyone is so busy thinking of everyone else.

Wrapping up the end of the year, getting one more thing done that makes sense. I want to be the person who says Merry Christmas! You have earned it. Many of Holiday movies are variations of “Scrooge” based on “This Is Good” and “That Is Bad.” Anyone who has not had any challenges in life has been either extremely lucky or in a very protected bubble. 

Congratulations To You Construction Contractor On Your Success!

Please send me all your extra four-leaf clovers. If your favorite Happy Leprechaun is not too busy, I will take a little extra Magic. I can never have too much Magic or Sunshine.

Life Happens. Challenges Happen. Some Good, some bad depending on the perception of the event. We can all look back and see what we might have done differently. The question is, Did we make a decision? Did that decision seem to be the best decision to make based on the information on hand at that time? If you and I make a thoughtful decision (not a knee-jerk reaction), then it is a good decision. Sometimes we think I should have, could have, if and only, but, because and [fill in the blank]. These are negative thoughts that are not useful. All negative thoughts just drag you down into a bad mental place. I offer The Serenity Prayer As A Beacon Of Truth: http://thelordsprayer.net/serenity.html God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference….. Between religions, the name of God may change; however, from my viewpoint, the message of the prayer is the same all over the world no matter what religion is your choice. The key is you have a choice to believe, what you want to believe and how to practice your faith. The sun rises and sets for each one of us every day.

Embrace Life

Enjoy The Day – Moment By Moment.

Do Something Fun.

Watch The Sunset.

Listen To The Birds Sing.

Hear A Train Whistle.

Rejoice In The Laughter Of Children for at that moment they are embracing their world with complete abandonment. Smile. Think Happy Thoughts. The Simplest Things Are Free. Every day, everyone can find a reason to be frustrated if they are looking from that particular view. The other driver is driving too slow, too fast, recklessly, music is too loud, passing out hand gestures, honking their horn, on their cell phone, texting, car issues of smoke from the tailpipe, car smells, bad tires, no headlights. The list of things to be annoyed about is endless; no one is exempt. While we are annoyed, there is nothing more dangerous than someone is crossing in the middle of the street, at night, wearing all dark clothes, either being clueless of the danger or playing chicken with cars. Drivers, everywhere at some point during the day or nighttime hours will see happen repeatedly. It used to be when we heard someone who appeared to be talking to themselves, that they were (to put it politely) a little troubled in the head (an old-fashioned saying). Now with cell phones and wireless headsets or earpieces, it is a little harder to pick out the people who appear to be talking to invisible friends. It is easy to listen to the news and become depressed, agitated, or thinking the challenges of the day are hopeless to overcome. Mother Teresa said it best. We the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, with so little, for so long, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing.- Mother Teresa of Calcutta. http://www.beliefnet.com/quotes/christian/m/mother-teresa-of-calcutta/we-the-willing-led-by-the-unknowing-are-doing-th.aspx

Now that we have defined the problem – What is the solution?

Think Lemonade. Shift in thinking – Are you thinking Inside The Box or Outside The Box? Life is a series of challenges, followed more lessons, tests, and quizzes. It is how we react that makes the difference. 

On any construction project – Bearing Walls is Inside The Box (Laws of Physics) The WOW Factor that your clients dreamed of is Outside The Box. Construction Accounting – Numbers are Inside The Box (State, Local, Federal Income Tax, Payroll Tax, Sales Tax Reports) The Estimate Process chosen by you for each project is Outside The Box.

As a Construction Contractor, much of your world is Outside The Box. You make what seems like the impossible and turn it into a finished product; whole house remodel, kitchen or bath remodel, new roof, install an attic fan, replace windows, deck, patio, hot tub, swimming pool, children’s backyard playhouse. 

The Handyman Contractor fixes “Things,” and those things are very important to the clients who need them. Fixing a door, hanging a closet rod, moving something, removing something. In comparison to a Whole House Remodel it may seem like you are not doing anything. Reality is that to the person who needed the work done that a few simple little things may change their whole world for the better. Your Work as a Handyman Contractor it brings joy to their life. Be Proud of it. 

Every Construction Contractor has to determine who fits the profile of my best Customer?

What Do The Like To Do? What Are They Good At Doing? Any Construction Contractor can have Fantastic Quality Workmanship in some phases of construction and have to deal with a myriad of separate, unrelated issues if they do not like the work. One of the simple ways to start if looking at your QuickBooks Report “Job Profitability Summary. This is the first step to understanding and using the 80/20 Rule For Success In Contracting.

Biggest Gifts a Construction Contractor can give to themselves is the power of choice.

Increase Pricing As Needed

Collect Job Deposits

Ask Customer For The Money

Learn The Power of NO!

As a person who thinks Outside The Box - From time to time Randal has had to Tell Me No. The wonderful idea that I have is physically is impossible to do. How can that be, I made a drawing and everything. The answer must be a bigger hammer, taller ladder, stronger person, [fill in the blank] tool. I think he is just trying to pop my balloon. In reality, Randal never pops my balloon. No matter how much I think outside the box, visualize about what I think will work, the fact is it is just not going to happen. Sometimes it is the person doing it makes all of the difference in the world. What is your strength? It is always a beautiful site to see a semi-sitting somewhere where most of us could not park a VW Bug. Truck Drivers are a highly skilled craftsman who performs Magical Deeds so we will have the basics of food, clothing, shelter and the fun stuff we want but do not necessarily need. Delivered all types of weather. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder. A final gift to yourself is to live in the area of the country you want to live in. It will make you work life more enjoyable, personal life much happier. Add all of the small things together it can suddenly become a big thing. Life is a journey that happens One Day At A Time, One Decision At A Time, One Choice At A Time Made By Each of Us. Tomorrow is always a New Day, with every prospect of being a happier day if we let it. Wishing You A Very Merry Christmas Sharie

  In Conclusion:

Helping Contractors around the world is one of the reasons we added the FastEasyAccountingStore.com Follow our blogs, listen to Contractor Success M.A.P. Podcast. We Appreciate Our Visitors, Listeners, and Subscribers. – Thank You!!

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Sharie DeHart, QPA is the co-founder of Business Consulting And Accounting in Lynnwood Washington. She is the leading expert in managing outsourced construction bookkeeping and accounting services companies and cash management accounting for small construction companies across the USA. She encourages Contractors and Construction Company Owners to stay current on their tax obligations and offers insights on how to manage the remaining cash flow to operate and grow their construction company sales and profits so they can put more money in the bank. http://www.fasteasyaccounting.com/sharie-dehart/ 206-361-3950 or sharie@fasteasyaccounting.com

I trust this podcast helps you understand that outsourcing your contractor's bookkeeping services to us is about more than just “doing the bookkeeping”; it is about taking a holistic approach to your entire construction company and helping support you as a contractor and as a person.

We Remove Contractor's Unique Paperwork Frustrations

We understand the good, bad and the ugly about owning and operating construction companies because we have had several of them and we sincerely care about you and your construction company!

That is all I have for now, and if you have listened to this far please do me the honor of commenting and rating the Podcast  www.FastEasyAccounting.com/podcast Tell me what you liked, did not like, tell it as you see it because your feedback is crucial and I thank you in advance.

You Deserve To Be Wealthy Because You Bring Value To Other People's Lives!

I trust this will be of value to you and your feedback is always welcome at www.FastEasyAccounting.com/podcast

This Is One more example of how Fast Easy Accounting is helping construction company owners across the USA including Alaska and Hawaii put more money in the bank to operate and grow your construction company. Construction accounting is not rocket science; it is a lot harder than that, and a lot more valuable to construction contractors like you so stop missing out and call Sharie 206-361-3950 or email sharie@fasteasyaccounting.com

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Thinking About Outsourcing Your Contractors Bookkeeping Services?

Click On The Link Below:

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This guide will help you learn what to look for in outsourced construction accounting.

Need Help Now?

Call Sharie 206-361-3950

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Thank you very much, and I hope you understand we do care about you and all contractors regardless of whether or not you ever hire our services. Bye for now until our next episode here on the Contractors Success MAP Podcast.

Enjoy your day.     Sharie

About The Author:

https://www.fasteasyaccounting.com/free-one-hour-consultation-bookkeeping

Sharie DeHart, QPA is the co-founder of Business Consulting And Accounting in Lynnwood Washington. She is the leading expert in managing outsourced construction bookkeeping and accounting services companies and cash management accounting for small construction companies across the USA. She encourages Contractors and Construction Company Owners to stay current on their tax obligations and offers insights on how to manage the remaining cash flow to operate and grow their construction company sales and profits so they can put more money in the bank. http://www.fasteasyaccounting.com/sharie-dehart/ 206-361-3950 or sharie@fasteasyaccounting.com

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QuickBooks Chart Of Accounts     Free Stuff

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  We Serve Over 100 Types Of Contractors So If Your Type Of Company Is Not Listed

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There Is A Good Chance We Can Help You!

Call Now: 206-361-3950

If you are a blogger, who writes about construction we would like to hear from you.

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                                                                                  Contractors_Success_MAP, Contractors_Success_Marketing_Accounting_Production, Contractor_Bookkeeping_Services, QuickBooks_For_Contractors, QuickBooks_For_Contractors,Contractors_Success_Map_Contractors_Need_To_Reward_Themselves

Check out this episode about Contractors Marketing - Accounting - Production (M.A.P.)!