#it's half-past 1 now!

[quill-pen]

I should be sleeping or at least in bed, but late-night creativity always seems to hit me hard. Probably because it's the time of day I can actually sit down and just write without being interrupted while everything and everyone else sleeps. I always regret it in the morning though. lmao--kill me!

Anyway, this wasn't supposed to be a ficlet. I was just going to do another little conversation thing like I normally do, but then my mind said, "Ya know, this would be a fun little thing to write." So... I did. I went all out and did. And it was fun! Except it kept me up until nearly 1 am. Again. Oy....

Anyway--on with the ficlet!

Slight NSFW--I'm gonna go ahead and say 18+ and "Minors get lost" just to be safe.

Summary: A quick comparison of two of my favorite ships from my Scroogeverse: Tom and Addie and Ebenezer and Bess. Which couple wins? You decide!

Warnings: Surprise, surprise--most of these are for Ebeness: brief mention of body-shaming, groping, mention of genitals, dirty talking, lusty idiots in love--I'm surprised there isn't more. As of now, not edited.

Toddie Vs. Ebeness

Addie Shaw, soon to be Jenkins, leaned heavily against the front counter of Jenkins' Toys and Games, watching as the owner of the establishment and her fiancé, Tom Jenkins, checked the inventory on the shelves. Every so often, after he'd counted up the amount of a certain item, he would call out to her a number and item name and she would dutifully record it in the ledger beside the proper entry. They'd been at it for a little over an hour now, Tom working down the shelves away from the counter. Away from Addie.

Addie drummed the fingers of her left hand against the pages of the ledger book as she heavily rested her face in her right hand. She knew it was stupid, what she was feeling, but she couldn't help it; the further Tom moved away from her, the lonelier she felt. And why on earth should that have been? He was literally right there in the room with her--he wasn't even out of sight behind shelves yet! Still, silly as it was, she did feel lonely and there was no denying it. She couldn't reach out and touch him from here, couldn't feel his warmth, couldn't smell his cinnamony cologne that she loved so much. Addie let her gaze fall down to hold on the pretty silver ring on her ring finger. Now she understood what her cousin Bess meant when she spoke of true love: You didn't need to be next to them all the time, but, ye gods, did you ever want to be!

A brilliant idea suddenly came to the young woman's mind that caused her rosy lips to curl. It was a little bit more of a Bess thing to do, but it seemed like it could be fun. And Addie knew Tom wouldn't mind taking a break.

Gently slapping her hand against the ledger, Addie leaned even more heavily on the counter and sighed extra, extra loudly, making sure to make it sound dramatically forlorn. She thought she did a decent job.

It definitely worked, for Tom immediately stopped in his counting of the checkerboards and turned to look at her. "Is everything all right, Sugarplum-bum?" he asked, looking a tad bit concerned.

Addie met his eyes, looking innocently at him. "Yes," she answered.

"Only, that sigh sounded rather sad," Tom gently pressed further, his gentle brown eyes looking her over.

Addie bit back a smile. Bess was a genius! "Well, as it happens, I am just a tad melancholy," she replied, doing her best to keep the corners of her mouth from curving up.

Tom hopped off his ladder and moved towards her, looking even more worried. "Oh, yes? Might I ask why?"

Addie put on her best pout and puppy-dog eyes, and she must have done a commendable job because she could see an entirely new level of softness well up in her beau's eyes. She internally cheered and made a mental note to discuss her triumph with Bess later. "Well, if you must know, Sugarpie, it's because it's been an hour and five minutes since you last told me you loved me."

Surprise, realization, knowing, and playfulness all flashed through Tom's eyes in a wink. It was incredibly impressive, and Addie quietly wondered if that's what Ebenezer looked like whenever Bess pulled this stunt with him. "Oh, my!" Tom gasped, one hand flying up to cover his mouth, the other his heart. "Oh, I am so sorry, Peachfuzz, so very sorry indeed! Allow me to fix my mistake!" He swept behind the counter and wrapped the plump woman up in his arms, squeezing her tight as he spun her around.

Squealing with delight, Addie wrapped her arms around the man's neck. Then she found herself being lifted up and deposited on the countertop. She blushed pink and giggled as Tom came to stand in front of her, moving between her legs. She probably parted them for him a little bit easier than a lady should have, but she didn't care. They were practically married after all.

Wrapping his arms around her again, Tom stared into his love's shining hazel-nut eyes and smiled ever so lovingly and fondly at her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured. Another kiss to her temple. "I love you." Her other temple. "I love you." He smooched her cute button nose. "I love you." He peppered her cheeks. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!"

Addie laughed, trying to push him away and duck out of the onslaught. "Tom-Tom, please! That's a little too much!"

"Ah, there's never such a thing as too much love, my sweet!" He kept up the assault of butterfly kisses all over her soft, round face before finally planting his lips on hers. Immediately everything slowed, the rest of the world falling away until they were the only two people in the universe.

Addie slowly slipped her hands up to cup Tom's jaw to hold him closer, her fingers curling around his delightfully prominent ears. She delighted at how the closely cropped curls of his 'chops tickled her palms. His thin 'stache scratched against her top lip just so, sending tingles throughout her body. The woman felt as though she were in her own personal Heaven, one that was filled with nothing but Thomas Aaron Jenkins. Not that there ever had been, but there wasn't a trace of doubt in Addie's mind--this was love. True love. And it was hers. It was theirs.

When the couple finally broke apart, Tom touched his forehead to Addie's and gazed deeply into her hazy eyes. "I love you, Adelaide Kathryn Shaw" he repeated, softly, slowly, with meaning in every letter and syllable. "With every bit of my soul, I love you. You make me the happiest man on Earth, and I will dedicate the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest woman on Earth."

Addie smiled adoringly at the man, his words touching her very soul and bringing the slightest burn of tears to her shining eyes. Growing up she'd always been the silly fat girl--too plump, too loud, too attention-seeking. Boys and young men had never looked at her as something to take seriously, never mind something to love or desire. But now here she was, a grown woman in love with an absolutely wonderful grown man who loved her back with all his might, listened to everything she had to say no matter how goofy, and wanted her to be his wife and mother of his children. Addie had never felt so special. Or so happy. "You do that already, Tom," she replied to the man. "You make me so happy, I hardly know what to do with myself."

Tom smirked. "Well, apparently, you're so happy, you stoop to your delightful cousin's manipulations in order to get a little extra affection out of me."

Addie giggled. "It worked, did it not?"

The swarthy man grinned and shook his head. "You Shaw women," he muttered, booping her nose with a finger, "deviants the lot of you. I've never seen more mischievous females."

"You love us and you know it."

"Yes. Mischievous and irresistible--a dangerous combination. Good thing I'm a man that's always liked a little danger."

Addie laughed as he surged back in to kiss her again.

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Ebenezer was adding up the family balance book for the month when the door of his study practically flew open. He took a brief second to look up and catch a glimpse of his wife before turning back to his numbers. "Hello, Darling," he greeted her.

With a melodramatic sigh, Bess leaned heavily against the doorpost and pressed the back of her right hand to her head. "Have you no heart, Ebenezer Charles Scrooge?!" she exclaimed, a theatrical vibrato in her voice.

Still adding up the balance, the reformed miser smirked at the woman's dramatics. Bess always claimed she couldn't stand theater, but the woman took such delight in performing melodrama it was hard to believe her. "Well," he answered, "I have a pulse; so judging from that, I believe I have heart--but I haven't been to the doctor for a good while, so I suppose I can't say with certainty."

"No!" Bess wailed, going full Shakespearean. "No, you haven't a heart! How can you?" She pushed off the doorpost and swept into the room. "How can a man profess to have a heart when he hasn't told his adoring and devoted wife 'I love you' since..." she paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, "... since breakfast hours ago! Oh! Oh, the humanity!" The American pressed a hand to her forehead again and the other to her heart and twirled about before "swooning" and collapsing onto the deep rust, chaise lounge across from his desk. She sobbed, stretching a foot dramatically towards the ceiling: "The humanity!"

That caused Ebenezer to roll his eyes and turn away from the balance book to pivot around in his chair and face the actress that was his wife. He smirked amusedly at her. "You never fail to take it up a notch, do you?" he remarked with a snort.

Bess peeked out of the corner of her eye at the silver-haired man and winked with an impish grin, before resuming character. "Oh, the misery! The despair of being a vibrant, vivacious woman trapped in a loveless marriage!"

"Well, you are most certainly a vibrant, vivacious woman, I'll give you that."

"How can I go on? Knowing that the man I love doesn't love me in return--how can I possibly be expected to go on?! Oh, I am a piteous being! A most wretched and lowly soul cast among the broken and downtrodden of this cold, cruel, heartless world! Oh, woe! Woe is me! Woe is me!" Bess threw herself fully across the lounge, leaning far back over the curved headrest so that she was nearly hanging upside down, a hand still pressed to her brow.

The sound of chuckling reached her ears, followed by a book snapping shut. Then there were footsteps lazily crossed the hardwood floor before the door shut. The sound of the lock turning was what caused the woman to snap her eyes open and sit up to look at her husband. The distinguished gentleman stood there beside the door, watching her intently, his eyes dark. A shiver instantly ran up Bess' spine. She watched carefully as he undid his cuffs and deftly rolled up his sleeves, revealing expanses of slender-built forearms covered in attractive salt-and-pepper hair. Defined, wiry muscles flexed beautifully beneath rosy skin, reminding her of the surprising power and strength those otherwise slender arms possessed: The strength to carry her all the way home from the market when she twisted her ankle; the strength to hold her up and pin her to a wall as he rutted into her until she screamed with ecstasy. Bess gulped, looking from Ebenezer's arms up to his leering face. A thrill shot straight through her down to the special space between her thighs that only Ebenezer knew and could affect so markedly. Instinctively she parted her legs a bit.

"Well, now," Ebenezer rumbled as he slowly trod towards her, fiddling with the last few rolls of his left cuff, "it would appear as though I've been a bad husband--neglectful in my duties and leaving my poor, poor wife to suffer for it."

Bess pouted out her bottom lip. "You have been neglectful," she grumped.

"I know, Sweetness."

"Very, very neglectful."

"I know."

"How am I supposed to know that you still love me when you go hours without telling me, Ebenezer?"

"I know, I know, and I'm so sorry, Bess. So very, very sorry." He knelt on the floor before her, (which was quite gallant to do, as he did not have the youngest knees anymore) and gazed up into her face. He smirked and it held a dangerous edge that matched the blackness of his eyes. "As I have been made aware of this... greatest of transgressions," Ebenezer said, his voice soft but dark, "I would very much like to try and alleviate it." He wrapped his arms around the woman's waist and drew her forward to him. "If only you would be so gracious as to let me, Dearest Wife." He trailed a hand languidly down Bess' long leg until he came to the very hem of her skirt. Moving his hand to touch her stockinged ankle, he traced his hand just as slowly back up under her skirt. His long fingers gently pressed into her flesh.

A squeak caught in Bess's throat as a goofy grin spread across her face along with a strawberry blush. Lord, the effect this devilish man had on her--she'd never get over it. And she never wanted to. "I-" she stopped and cleared her throat, "-I believe I could find it within me to be as such." She shivered at the temperature change on her lower legs as her lover slowly pushed her skirt up higher and higher.

Ebenezer smiled wolfishly. "Thank you, my darling. I am undoubtedly married to a saint of a woman." With his free hand, he took up one of hers and kissed her fingers. "I love you." He kissed her knuckles. "I love you." He kissed the back of her hand. "I love you." All the while, his hand beneath her skirt kept on its trek.

Bess tried to steady her breathing and shifted around to allow him more access as he progressed.

Ebenezer was kissing up her arm now, trailing his lips along its length until he reached her shoulder and pressed a firmer kiss there. "I love you," he whispered into her blouse. He turned his face to hers with devilishly glittering eyes and asked, "Is this making things better, my love?"

Bess shuddered a breath and nodded her head, unable to find her voice.

"But not quite enough is it? No, you went hours without hearing an 'I love you' from my lips--a few kisses will not suffice." He moved his head to the center of her chest and pressed a kiss to her clothed sternum, then a trail of them up over her collarbone and the column of her throat.

Bess moaned as his lips gently sucked at her sensitive skin, tilting her head back just slightly. Little twinges of pleasure sparked deep in her belly; heat pooled in her pelvis. How was it possible for anyone to be so good with their mouth all the damn time? She hadn't the time to consider that question as suddenly her man's lips were upon hers, claiming them fully. She leaned into it, tilting her head for a better angle and molding her fully lips to dance with his soft, smooth, slender ones. Without thinking she brought both her hands up to skim his shoulder and clutch at the back of his neck, one hand moving higher to twine into his soft, steely hair. A large hand squeezed her left knee ticklishly, and Bess squealed, allowing Ebenezer the perfect opportunity to plunder her mouth with his tongue. She moaned at the taste of him--he'd sucked on a peppermint recently-- and allowed him to push her deeper into the lounge. Before she knew it, she was lying back with her man stretched atop her and nestled comfortably between her legs. She had no complaints.

Finally, the kiss ended as both parties desperately needed more air than they could find through their nostrils. Hearts racing, lungs heaving, they gazed into each other's lusty, half-lidded eyes. Each party thought the other a spectacular vision with their flushed cheeks and glistening lips. They could have stayed in such a way forever and been content.

"I love you, Elizabeth Felicity Scrooge," Ebenezer rasped, voice as full of adoration and devotion as desire. It warmed Bess' very soul. "I love you so much, I don't believe I could ever voice it effectively to you." The man's lips curled into a delightfully wicked sneer as his once-slate-blue-now-black eyes gleamed with devilry. "Therefore, I believe I shall have to write it out with my tongue and fingers both on and in that delectable little quim of yours."

Bess was sure she could have burned to ashes on the spot with the heat that flared throughout her body. "Ebenezer!" she squeaked incredulously.

A dark, rumbling burr of a chuckle rolled up from deep in the Englishman's chest. "Oh, I love it when you say my name, She-Wolf," he snarled, touching his nose to hers as he glowered seductively into her eyes. He trailed his hand further up her thigh to find it bare and gave it an appreciative squeeze. Its mistress squealed, and he felt his pants grow ever more constrictive. "And I can't wait to hear you scream it again."

Taglist: @rom-e-o @oldmanlusting @the-house-of-auditore-frye @crimson-phantom-designs @purgratoriat @ofvampiirisms

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[ynbabe]

Going to watch old Prema videos back when Logan sargeant was HAPPY before SOMEONE FUCKED IT ALL UP

[hychlorions]

lynne 😎✌️

[fieldofheathers-stuff]

The Silco saga, Part 3: The Eye

*This is the third (well, actually fourth) post in a series I’ve lovingly dubbed “The Silco Saga, a retrospective after Season 2”. It’s halfway between flow of conscience, meta, headcanon and review, spawned from my Arcane brainrot (and recent S1 rewatch) and vaguely aimed at trying to reevaluate the entirety of Arcane with a focus on my Main Man™ Silco. Here is Part 1 (on how S2 handled Silco and Jinx’s relationship), Part 1.5 (miscellaneous thoughts regarding timeline issues and Silco’s actions towards the kids in S1ep3), and Part 2 (Vander and a bit of Zaundads, yaaay).

Please feel free to comment! I love hearing different perspectives on this show.

----------------------------

This will be a short one, but I need to get it out of my system. I just... love, love, love Arcane's use of visual language (and specifically character and environment design) to wordlessly communicate story beats. The whole show is just a perfect synergy of writing and artistic talent, where both contribute to craft a deeply layered and meaningful story.

Silco's eye is such a perfect example of this. To use the eye as a symbol of his corruption post-drowning is such a genius intuition, because it's symbolism is so immediately understandable yet also layered with meaning that is incredibly specific to his character.

There are plenty of characters in popular media where facial disfigurement is used to convey duality and corruption (the most obvious example being DC's Two-Face), and Silco could have easily gone down this well-traveled path of character design. However, by focusing on the corrupted eye in particular, this element instantly specifies the meaning of his mutilation.

Vander's violence didn't just impact him phisically. His scars don't serve just as a constant reminder of the ways in which he (and the world, since the Pilt's toxic waters are an effect of Piltover's exploitation of the Undercity) wronged him. The violence inflicted upon him distorted his vision of the world, metaphorically and literally. He is forced (first by Vander, and later by himself) to view the world through a monstrous filter.

I wonder whether him having to constantly inject Shimmer into his eye is meant to symbolize - or rather mirror - the coping mechanism he uses to deal with his trauma. Silco is shown constantly revisiting The Drowning™ as a crucial moment in his development as a person, and while in his personal narrative he reframes it as a positive and cathartic experience, we are aware, through his flashbacks, that the moment was anything but. Him needing to constantly inject Shimmer into his eye is the physical equivalent to the psycological ritual of "healing" he performs by reframing his trauma as a moment of self-improvement (and literally dunking himself in the Pilt, Silco you madman).

It's only logical, then, that the injections don't seem to work long-term. It perfectly mirrors his psychological state: as the story goes on, we see how his narrative of death and rebirth is just a superficial fix, a solution which could perhaps be sustainable for him alone, but inevitably crumbles as soon as he attempts to apply it to another person (Jinx). Jinx's tragic arc in S1 reveals the fault in his vision: there is no healing to be found in rewriting your past by cramming it into a narrative that suits your feelings and "killing" (denying, hiding, repressing) the bits that you don't like - or that are too painful for you to face.

It's deeply symbolic, then, that he still keeps his scars in the Best Timeline™ of S2ep7, but there's no sign of infection or (what I assume is) Shimmer corruption: the wounds are still there because the past can't be changed, but he is shown to have been able to shape it into something stable, manageable. It's what healing actually looks like: it's neither a return to an umblemished state, nor a rebirth into something completely new, but rather an integration of the past and present self into a whole that is not just the sum (or, in his case, a subtraction) of its parts.

[quesocheeso]

3am idea-

Pigsy is the one to hammer in that Wukong didn't cheat.

Macaque checked out Xiaotian and, seeing Tang and his certain...resemblance, drew some conclusions. Of course, he wants to tell Pigsy immediately that his partner is a cheating wh-

He doesn't get the chance for a while until S3, when Macaque finally gets the chance to ask about Xiaotian, unaware of the giant box he opened until Pigsy is ranting about the "assholes who abandoned a toddler in the rain-"

Except that doesn't make sense, his mate would never abandon a child, unless Wukong didn't cheat.

...LBD possesses him before he can apologize.

Macaque trying to stir up shit is so funny,, he just like me fr

Good plot anon, though I think that wouldn’t really work in the au

I think we need to remember I’m here for the drama, but like realistic drama

So while Pigsy can attest that MK is adopted, that’s kinda even worse because now there’s no one who can attest to how MK came to be, Pigsy can take Tang out of the blame list so that’s good, and while Macaque can take Wukong’s name out of the blame list because he wouldn’t abandon a child, that don’t mean MK’s “other parent” wouldn’t have the guts to do it

I also want to say how Macaque doesn’t outright accuse Wukong about anything, I think I’ve mentioned he technically has no right in a way, but he beats around the bush and does small comments and insinuates things trying to get Wukong to spill the beans while trying to act like he’s indifferent to it (newsflash he is not)

He is gauging what precautions he needs to take to ensure that his own kids are safe and able to maintain their birthrights

[computerram]

finally started BG3 👍

[kirby-the-gorb]

[swordmaid]

companion shri’iia au and you meet her in the blighted village where a couple of goblins are cowering around her, at first she’s wary at the group’s arrival but when the bluetooth worm connection happens and player character is like oh you’re tadpoled like us she’s like yes true… and when you ask her about how did she get here she will say the goblins took her here, mentions something about an absolute etc. you ask her who she is she’s like im shri’iia, an adventurer 🙂. if you ask her if she’s good at fighting she’s like yes im a paladin after all 🙂 and you can recruit her bc she agrees that getting rid of the tadpole is the priority and the odds are better if u stick together. alternatively if you point out that it’s strange to see a drow in the surface she’s gonna be like the same way it is strange we have worms in our heads no?

but if you walk around one of the damaged houses there’s gonna be an opened discarded book that regales the tales of this paladin adventurer and she basically mimicked what was written when she was introducing herself. if you point it out to her later she’ll be like oh that’s a fun coincidence ☺️ and leave it at that

[nyanfish]

sleepoverrr

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[cat-astrophe-comic]

in honor of the aniversary in a month, you can send us asks now :]

[ljubimaya]

I was moping around the last two days, so I had to write today what I'd usually write in two days TT

[kaiba-fangirl]

Oh dear 😳

Well, I've looked, and-

*pops back over to Yu-Gi-Oh*

Ahhh... I don't know how we made it through the growing pains, but we did. Hopefully other fandoms will someday, too.

[birlwrites]

How go your projects? I believe the writing ones at present underway are Bloodfinch and possibly the Rainfall sequel?

primarily drafting bloodfinch, but i also have a short story in its final round of edits!! i was hoping to get it out in june, but both my personal and work life have gotten incredibly busy, so new goal is sometime in july

i'm like, cackling and plotting and scheming with bloodfinch because i did some plot work similar to when i was making posts about the foreshadowing in lachrimae that was just Appearing and me trying to make sense of what my subconscious wanted me to put in - i've discovered something veeeeeeery interesting about finch that nobody knows except me and one (1) fictional character (not finch) (they've never even met, unless of course they have............) (not that finch would know anything about it because she is a delightful mix of self-sacrificing and self-absorbed and is not super perceptive as a result)

oh also i've changed a couple of things about finch's friendship with adalric - the first thing is that i took the 'h' out of his name because it has a much more Fantasy Story vibe without it. sometimes i forget that i have done this. i'm going to have to do a ctrl+f for 'adalrich' on the full draft. the second thing is that now, at the beginning of the story, they've been close friends for years, which is behavior that the king indulges because adalric is a very dutiful crown prince and he shows zero (0) signs of letting his friendship with the bloodfinch affect his obligation to his country. i plan to throw that out the window, of course

and i've changed something very, very important: at first, i was writing finch singing as being a pretty non-magical experience, very much in line with my own personal physical experience of singing. but now, due to Plot Reasons Mumblemumblemumble, singing makes her feel physically horrible, regardless of the perfection of her technique.

did i have to scrap my previous draft and start over? yes. did i then beat that word count within 48 hours? also yes. is it going to be a stronger story? DEFINITELY yes. so i'm very excited!!!!!

i've like barely been on tumblr the past week or so, so my blog's mainly been running on queue, hence the lack of me posting about how writing is going atm (i also haven't had much writing time ajgkhjgksdf). but please do feel free to inquire at any time!