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rom-e-o · 3 months ago

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✨As Good As Gold✨ (Modern AU) (Ebenezer/Constance)

Here is part one ... because this alone was 23 pages. ^^;

I, um, get a little invested when writing these two. Just a smidge. Oops, haha.

Also, this store features Ebenezar Charles Scrooge ("Wolf") and Bess Scrooge (kudos to @quill-pen) and is a follow-up to her AMAZING fic, "All The Little Breaks" that she blessed me with after an ask. Since then, the inspiration has been churning! She also helped write and check the Wolf/Bess sections as well. (Seriously, they are such a delightful couple, every moment with these two is so enjoyable!)

Enjoy!

STORY IS 18+ for some explicit content. Minors DNI.

“You have everything you need, yes? I tried to make sure her bag was completely stocked.”

“Yes, yes, I do. And you most certainly did. I think this diaper bag weighs more than five babies altogether.”

“W-Well I wanted to make sure you had everything while we were away, just in case! I know you have a spare key to the apart—um, flat, but you’re already doing Ebenezer and I an amazing favor by watching her. I don’t want to cause any trouble or extra trips.”

“Connie, I think you packed well enough for Starla to stay with Wolf and I for months. Seriously, girl, you packed her a snowsuit … it’s July – almost August. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

The tone of Bess’ jest was playful, but it sparked mild alarm in her friend.

“Of course not! I promise, we’ll be back—”

“I’m joking,” she said. “I know you two will be back, punctual as ever.”

A familiar bark thundered in the background, causing Bess to laugh. “Yes, yes, we haven’t forgotten. Starry’s gonna need a good bodyguard, Prudence. You’re up for it, right?”

The mastiff’s loud bark echoed proudly from the phone’s speaker. She swore the timbre of her call rattled the phone’s delicate inner workings.

As Elizabeth “Bess” Sullivan playfully ruffled Prudence’s ears and beamed at her friend from the other side of their video call, a red head of hair slowly peeked in from the bottom left corner of the frame. Mere moments later, a string of burbles accompanied the surprise guest, and their bright blue eyes slowly entered the camera’s view.

When those icy-blue eyes landed on the likeness of their mother on the other side of the screen, the baby let out a peal of laughter. Her tiny fingers sought the screen, seeking the familiar warmth and vetiver scent of her mother. “Ba … ba!”

Constance’s eyes welled up briefly as she saw her baby reaching for her on the other side of the video call. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she blew her beloved little girl a kiss. “Hello, Starry! Oh, there she is, my beautiful girl!”

Starla burbled a reply that was absent of tangible words, but the emotion was conveyed superbly through her gummy smile and chubby, flailing arms.

“Yeeees, that’s your mama,” Bess said, laughing at Starla’s enthusiasm as she dropped a loving kiss on top of her head. “She’s going on a trip with your papa. For their wedding anniversary – before you were ever born, cutie pie! But don’t worry. They’ll both be back in a week, okay?”

Starla paused to stare at the screen, then scrunched her legs up for a round of excited kickies. “Eeehee! Wa-ba!”

Ebenezer Scrooge glanced over from the driver’s seat of his McLaren, smiling softly at his beloved baby’s coos and clucks. Seeing his interest, Constance pivoted the phone in his direction, allowing him to see their child. The man smiled as he saw his beloved, redheaded daughter examining the phone screen as if she was peering through a portal to another world.

When she spotted her father, she squealed with laughter again. “A-ba!”

The man’s heart softened at the display, almost to the point where it ached. If he looked too long, he feared it may cave a hole in his chest until he ultimately resigned himself to turning the car around and driving en route back to London. He missed his sweet daughter already but was eternally thankful for his brother and sister-in-law’s generosity in watching her. He and Constance desperately needed a holiday away together, he knew. Not only to reconnect after Starla’s birth, but to reconnect as husband and wife again.

In the meantime, he knew his daughter would receive the utmost care under the watchful (and extremely detail-oriented) eyes of his twin brother and sister-in-law. It helped soothe the burn of being away and refocus his mind on reconnecting with his wife, which he more than wanted and needed. They’d both been operating at a deficit of affection for many a fortnight, and it had worn them to threads. In fact, he’d begun to crave her, and her, and her happiness, more than air in recent months.

Spurred by sentimentality, his hand lofted from the gear shift for a moment to take Constance’s free hand and kiss it, his lips pressing firmly against her knuckles. The metal of her wedding band was cold against his lips.

The woman bloomed under his affection, and she turned to grace him with an affectionate smile that he hadn’t seen grace her features in months.

Gods above, how he’d missed seeing her happy and hearing her laughter, he thought. Had it not been for the fact that the country roads were as windy and uneven as they were, he would have retained his grip on her hands a few precious seconds longer. Simply feeling the familiar way her hand molded to his – their palms flattened together and fingers entwined – made his breath stall in his lungs. Alas, as they neared another turn, he reluctantly relinquished her hand to shift down a gear to more appropriately take the next turn on the unpaved road.

“We’ll be back soon, my little love,” he told Starla, his voice a touch cloudy. “Bess, if anything happens—”

“I’ll call Magda first. If it’s a real emergency, then we’ll call both of you.”

“But—”

“But we’ll still take tons of pictures to share with you both once you return.”

Both parents begrudgingly acquiesced to that. While they trusted Bess and Wolf with their daughter’s life, they couldn’t help but worry a bit. It was in their nature as a pair of perfectly matched worrywarts.

Their little girl had come off a nasty bit of colic and a fever, so naturally, they wanted to make sure she stayed in sterling condition. Their fears were further assuaged by the fact that Bess was a seasoned labor and delivery nurse, but small flecks of worry persisted for the sole reason that she was their baby, and it would be impossible for them to not worry at all.

“Have fun!” Bess said, bouncing the giddy baby on her knee. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two! And Con, flat shoes. Do not break an ankle out there.”

The call ended after one more round of thank-yous and goodbyes to their daughter and Bess. Once the screen went dark, Constance leaned back in her seat with a deep breath and put her phone to her heart. “Oh, I miss Starry already.”

“It’s our first time away since her being born,” he agreed softly. The epiphany occurred to him as the words left his lips.

“It feels so strange for her to not be in the backseat, giggling away.”

On cue, he glanced in the rearview mirror, only to see that Starry and her car seat were both absent.

“I know …” Ebenezer said, his hands turning the steering wheel so the car made a slight right into another road, “But she’s in amazing hands, my dearest. Bess and my brother would do anything for her. That includes spoiling her.”

Constance laughed. “I don’t mind that.”

She sighed in resignation, slipping her phone back into the side pocket of her Telfar shoulder bag. “Speaking of Wolf and Bess, I have a calendar reminder set to send a very large bouquet, dark chocolates, and some Gurkha cigars to their flat for their trouble once we return.”

Ebenezer gave her a sideways smirk. “One step ahead, as always.”

“Well, don’t say that just yet,” she muttered, “That’s the last, and only reminder, I set. Everything else can wait until we are back. I am agenda-less from here on out.”

One of his bushy brows quirked upward. “Truly?”

“Well, our official calendars are clear,” she reminded him slyly, “As you well know, sir. I manage your calendar.”

“A task you are all too talented at,” he quipped. Sometimes, he swore his wife had the ability to bend space and time with how she could arrange meetings, deadlines and video calls in such a way that they slotted together like natural puzzle pieces. She could cram thirteen hours of work in an eight-hour day; a feat which wasn’t always a virtue.

“We are appointment-free and out of office for the entire week,” she continued. “I made sure to set up the automatic email replies and changed our phones’ answering machines on our last day clocking out.”

“Very good,” he said. “Though it’ll be a struggle, I’m sure, to not check your laptop. I know how you feel about emails and seeing that number in your inbox tick up.” He hated it too, so he had no room to talk.

“I left it behind.”

He paused before turning to her, eyes blown slightly wide in stupefaction. “You … I beg your pardon?”

“I left my laptop back at the flat,” she repeated, slowly glancing over to check his reaction. His reaction seemed to spur some hesitancy. “I figured … that would be best. I want to focus on us, not work of any kind.”

It was a confession that, without context, might have seemed mundane or a futile attempt to fish for shallow admiration. Yet, in that moment, Ebenezer felt a surge of admiration shoot through him.

Last month, the two had gotten into a heated disagreement – the climax of many weeks of Constance overworking herself to exhaustion and leaving Ebenezer single-handedly to care for Starla – and he’d yelled at her and tried to throw the damn laptop away. For weeks after the stressful birth of their daughter, the device had served as her excuse to hunker down in her dark office and prattle away on her keyboard into the wee hours of the night, often missing meals and quality time with family. The tedium had lured her into a sinkhole with no bottom, pulling her deeper down by the day. She’d avoided coming home on time many nights and often left before sunrise the following day. It had seemed as if she couldn’t stand to be near him … as if she was ashamed to be with him.

After a while, he’d started to mirror her actions.

Bess had later determined the root cause of the behavior to be a severe case of ��baby blues” and intrusive thoughts combined with Constance’s borderline compulsive desire to be perfect and independent.

Looking back, it had seemed so obvious she needed therapy and help.

Yet, in the moment, he’d been frustrated, terrified, and felt … neglected. Like she was falling out of love with him and giving up on their daughter. There was also the fact that Starla’s birth had almost killed Constance as well, and the dread he’d felt that day watching her face go white in his arms had gnawed at his nerves to the point of fraying. Sometimes, when he slept, the ghoulish vision haunted the corners of his nightmares.

He’d felt so powerless to help her, and he’d detested the feeling. The thoughts had spurred him to mania. One fateful day, he’d tried to throw the device in the trash, and they’d scuffled. In a cloud of panic, she’d shoved him hard into the bookshelf, burying him in a small pile of books and knickknacks as a result (thankfully, the quartz paperweight had missed his head).

When he’d opened his eyes, she was gone – have sprinted out into the rainy streets without her keys or cell phone.

Never before had he felt such fear. For a horrifying moment, he entertained the notion that her shrieked sentiment of “leave me alone!” would be the last words he’d ever hear from her.

The incident ended with them reuniting at his brother’s flat. He’d been worried so sick for her safety and had apologized over and over for scaring her. She’d done the same, begging his forgiveness and apologizing for starting the miscommunication. She’d said she had wronged him and their daughter too many times over. She’d sworn, with a firm hand over his heart, that she would do better.

And, weeks after that fateful day, she had kept her promise.

In addition to seeing a marriage counselor together, she had begun therapy (a long overdue need for after her marriage to her abusive ex-spouse, Orin) and was taking longer breaks from work. She maintained a strict cut-off point for all after-hours emails and inquiries, and maintained a strict 9-to-5 schedule, plus multiple breaks.

After a nearly four-week period of watching his beloved wife spiral into the same workaholic tendencies that had almost completely ruined his life beyond salvation, Constance was coming back into herself.

She’d started smiling again. Laughing again. Making lunches for their friend group again. She was always home in time for dinner, and had also started cooking dinner again some nights, making it a responsibility the couple loved to share. The woman was even taking days off in the middle of the week to be with her daughter, even if it met dealing with an irritated client days later.

Now, they were taking an extended holiday together to a remote cabin, and she had left the laptop back at the flat.

She’d left work, literally and figuratively, behind.

“That is … wonderful,” he said. It took him a bumbling second to find the words, though they did little to convey the extent of the joy he felt. Mirth sprang forth in the form of a disbelieving chuckle. “I-I … am proud of you, my dear. That’s a triumph.”

Feeling the genuine love behind his words, Constance allowed herself the indulgence of savoring his praise. In a perfect world, they would have never squabbled so horribly, she supposed. Yet, for all the ugliness that it had brought to the surface, it had also brought them closer in some ways.

Those other ways, there was still much work to do. But … in every adult relationship, wasn’t there always, to some extent?

“Thank you,” she admitted softly, almost serenely.

“You are most welcome. The pleasure is all mine.”

His voice held warmth that she had missed. Even sitting comfortably, it made her weak to her core to hear him sound so pleased, so strong, and yet so fragile all in one breath.

She was tempted to lean over and kiss him, but with how rugged the roads were, it was best not to risk any distraction. Besides, the sun was already high in the sky, and they were due to arrive at their rented cabin in half an hour. With the way they’d planned their route, they would arrive just in time to get settled before enjoying supper. Constance had plans for that.

Once the car was parked and they were settled, then they could officially begin their vacation. She was over forty years old, she reasoned. She could be patient a little longer, despite her urges to get a little rambunctious to make up for lost time.

After all, the last thing they needed was more unsteady ground.

Of all the destinations the couple had stayed in during their first year of marriage, this one had to be the most stupendous, Constance thought.

The pictures she had viewed of the listing online did not do the quaint cottage justice. The cottage was crafted from logs of fragrant cedar in rustic red tones that matched the other conifers that sprouted proudly from the soil in the forest nearby. The cabin stood one and a half stories tall, and bore its weight triumphantly on a flat expanse of land at the crossroads of a dirt paths. On one side of the abode was a field of billowing, golden wheat that seemed to stretch to the tree line miles away. On the other side of the house was the showstopper – a fenced, sprawling field of blooming sunflowers, all turned toward the blazing summer sun in worship.

There was a place to park the car next to what appeared to be the mostly bygone remains of a horse’s hitching post. Once Ebenezer shimmied the vehicle in the alcove and turned off the engine, he stepped out and rounded to the other side to open the passenger door for his wife. He offered her a hand, and she gratefully accepted it.

As she stepped out and up, she beamed at the sight. “Heavens, this is even more lovely than I thought.”

She inhaled deeply, struck by how honey-sweet the air was in her lungs.

“It’s quite beautiful out here,” Ebenezer said, equally fascinated as he took a moment to appreciate the surroundings, before then looking back to admire his wife. Somehow, in the countryside air and sunshine, she seemed to glow even more than she did in the city.

“Look – the sunflower field is enormous,” she said, drifting closer to the edge of the fence for a better look. “It’s like a cornfield with how dense it is! I didn’t know sunflowers could bloom like this in England.”

“I must confess, I’m shocked as well. One or two sunflowers is one thing, but this is … quite extraordinary.”

“Well, the countryside gets the point of incredible views this time around! Not that I don’t love the city – it’s my home, but I think the sunflowers will be kinder to wake up to than London traffic.”

“Ha! Some die-hard Londoners would still fight you on that.”

One word of her sentiment snared his attention: countryside. Not another person, or building, for miles. If he squinted down the road, he could see the start of a tiny, historic town on the horizon, the little brick buildings looking like flecks of pepper against the hills. Well, at least there was some civilization within eyesight. For two city folks like them, that was reassuring. The two were looking to get away from the world for a moment, not go completely off the grid. Neither of them were equipped for that, or had the desire to be survivalists.

Just to be safe, he checked his phone. Perfect reception and Wi-Fi. That was good.

As he set about unloading the luggage, Constance approached the front door to get them inside.

“Let’s see, the check-in instructions from the owner said to look for a ‘key in a snail,’” she recited out oud. “No code or box. Hmm.”

She swayed her head across the expanse of the spacious front porch, looking for anything that fit the description. Sure enough, perched in the corner of one of the front window’s large outer sills was a golden, ornamental snail sculpture that was about the size of a baseball. Gingerly, she reached out and curiously pulled up on the shell. It lifted with minimal force, and inside, a house key glittered against a felt inlay.

Not the best security system, she thought as she took the key and slipped it in the lock.

“There we go.”

There was only one key, it seemed. For safekeeping, she immediately pulled out her own personal keyring and looped it onto the bundle. It seemed the two would need to stay together for most of their holiday. She was quite alright with that.

Just as she finished the task, she noticed a familiar shadow and heard recognizable footsteps behind her. She turned to see her husband – her beloved Adonis, hoisting their bags onto the porch.

She lingered back a few paces to give him room to drop the bags and open the door for her, as he always was keen to do. As he did so, she bid him a ‘thank you’ before motioning to step inside.

“Hold one moment, darling.”

Just as she paused, she felt his strong arms loop across her shoulders and under her knees. He all but swept her off her feet, grinning all the way up as she let out a gasp of delighted surprise.

He carried her over the threshold of the cabin with two, long-legged strides. All the while, she clung to him and beamed a smile that could ravel the rays of the sun itself. Her feet kicked slightly, one of her nude heels practically falling away.

Once they were safely on the other side of the front door, effectively christening the temporary abode for their stay, he deposited her carefully back on Earth. The man didn’t relinquish his grip until her feet were firmly planted on the floor, and even then, their lips remained locked for an extra half-minute as she praised his strength with a deep kiss.

When they finally broke apart, their attention turned to the entryway table, which was adorned with a handwritten card from the cabin’s owner, a box of frilly cakes, and the largest bouquet of pure white lilies Constance had ever seen.

“Ah, good,” Ebenezer remarked, “The flowers arrived. And they look perfect.”

“Did you plan this?”

“I cannot take credit for the card and cakes, I’m afraid. The flowers, however, are my doing. I know you love lilies, but we can’t have them in the flat.”

Lillies were one of Constance’s favorite blooms, and their beauty to her was only heightened by the fact that they were incredibly poisonous, from petal to pollen, for cats. Two feline companions called their flat home. Sunshine, a beloved feline that Constance, Bess, and their companions Gal and Addie ‘shared custody’ of; and Patience, their most recently adopted feline companion (and Prudence’s most beloved little sister).

A lifelong lover of cats, Constance would have been beside herself with grief to put the precious creatures in any sort of peril, let alone for a selfish reason.

With no felines in the cabin, they were free to enjoy the lilies for the entire week. He’d taken advantage of the scenario and ordered a triple-digit bundle that was hearty enough to survive their entire stay. When she was preoccupied with a phone call one morning, he’d even called ahead and specifically asked the owner of the cabin to pick them up and place them inside. Lo and behold, she’d gone far above and beyond his request and added her own gifts to the assortment.

“Oh, Ebenezer! You shouldn’t have!”

“Nonsense. You deserve the best, let alone fresh flowers you adore.”

Constance swayed forward to admire the bouquet, inhaling the sweet smell of the flower that often leant it glorious aroma to all her favorite perfumes, before reaching for the card.

Ebenezer and Constance,

A first wedding anniversary is a wonderful time – enjoy it smartly, along with the frilly cakes! The flavors are lemon curd, maple, and vanilla bean. The lemon is my favorite. The bakery in town is incredible, just make sure to get there early.

Have fun!

-Olivia S.

“She is wonderful,” Constance said, passing the note to Ebenezer for him to read as well. The couple would be sure to send her many referrals down the line.

Peering past the entryway, the cabin opened into a warmly lit foyer. The logs making up the indoor walls were cut to perfection and appeared freshly oiled. The sheen only made the red color, as sanguine as freshly turned autumn leaves, pop even more against the herringbone floors. The furniture itself was rustic in design, with an emphasis on large silhouettes and ample cushioning. The pillows and tufted blankets blazed with a myriad of rich patterns and jewel tones, all featuring unique smocking patterns that gave each piece its own equivalent of a human face. It kitchen, located right across from the front door, featured modern appliances spliced in with old-world accents made from polished sheet rock.

The coziness continued into the bedroom, which featured large windows, lace and velvet drapes, and a very large oak-framed bed with linen sheets. They’d most certainly make use of that.

In the meantime, they dropped their suitcases there and continued on for the moment.

One piece that attracted their attention immediately was a lacquered cabinet in the corner, located just on the other side of the living room’s main media console. The crown jewel of the cabinet was an antique Victrola phonograph that sat proudly at the top, its parts made of shining brass without so much as a speck of oxidized green. The morning glory horn at the top was painted a shade of deep, wine-drunk purple that shifted slightly into a petal pink toward the tips. The top and sides boasted a distinct, tiger maple veneer that was distinctly antique the carried the aroma of linseed oil.

While Constance busied herself putting away the sparse number of groceries she had brought in a cooler bag from home, Ebenezer curiously sauntered over to the device to inspect it. A simple flick of the fingers was all it took to open the cabinet and reveal a modest collection of records inside. He discreetly thumbed through the collection and was relieved to find that Olivia appeared to fancy classical music as much as they did, for it made up a solid majority of the collection. Perfect. Swiftly, he made his musical selection and slipped the record from its sleeve and onto the original, pine-green velvet pad.

Just as Constance finished sorting the produce and poultry in the fridge, the opening strings of “String Quartet in F Major, Op. 3 No. 5: II. Andante cantabile” by Hoffstetter met her ears. The notes danced through the air like aloft dandelion seeds, the melody spritely and energetic before taking a slower, romantic swing. Recognizing the melody, Constance was lured from her task and into the living room, her eyes brimming with both glee and curiosity.

There, Ebenezer poised himself proudly before dropping into a gentlemanly bow. He extended a hand in a silent request for a dance. In his loose linen shirt and crisp trousers, silver hair slightly tousled and lips drawn into a hopeful semi-smirk, he looked the part of a dashing man laying his heart bare for his lover.

Constance was quick to oblige, drifting into his arms like a swan taking its first strikes onto a crisp lake.

One larger hand fit perfectly into the hourglass-shaped notch in her waist, and they began a delicate waltz.

Even in an unfamiliar space, neither of them missed a single step, all while their eyes never strayed from the other’s.

Their trance lasted until the mechanical parts ground to a halt as the record ended.

“You brought groceries?”

“Just a few! I didn’t know what would be available in town and how readily, so I brought just a few items. Besides, I have a special plan for dinner.”

“Really? Well, color me fascinated.”

That special plan was making her husband a dish that she’d had the recipe memorized since she was a teenager. The recipe essentially mirrored what many others called chicken with browned butter and fresh sage, but Constance had been introduced to the dish by her mother Theresea, who had shown her how to prepare the dish one day in their New York apartment.

Her mother had told her over a hot stovetop, “Darling, this is the meal I made for your father on the date right before he proposed to me. Make this dish for the man you want to be your future husband, and he’ll be putty in your hands! I’ve shared it with three associates, and they all experienced the same thing. Use your power wisely, dear. The path to any man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Is it really that tasty, mama?”

“The taste is quite important, dear, but that’s not all. It’s a dish that proves that you have skills in the kitchen. That you’re an adult who can cook, not simply assemble ingredients. You can make something both hearty and savory, and without a ton of fancy ingredients. It’s a dish that shows you aren’t just a maiden looking to impress a beau … it shows you’re a woman worth pursuing as a wife.”

Constance had never had the opportunity to make the dish for her first (and ex-) husband, Orin. She’d graduated from university in Maryland, come home, and he’d proposed to her after a celebratory round of drinks. Any romance of their union had been officially ruined after their honeymoon, and from then on out, he always requested a specific menu for dinner. She was never permitted to choose. After a while, the desire to cook at all had extinguished itself, and food was replaced with warm whiskey and other substances to kill the pain.

With Ebenezer, however, she’d taken a chance and prepared the dish for him one night after they’d been living together for a few months. It wasn’t the first time she’d made dinner, but it was the first time she had prepared that dish specifically. She paired the dish with bakery sourdough, a kale and sunflower seed salad, and a 2011 Cabernet.

She had been paranoid at the time that her cooking skills were rusty, but that night, the very slender gentleman had cleaned his plate, crust of bread and all.

“I think that may be the best meal I’ve eaten in my entire life,” he’d told her. “Absolutely sensational, Dear. You outdid yourself.”

“Really?”

“Truly. I would eat more if I could, but I’m positively stuffed.”

Sure enough, just a few weeks later, that ring was on her finger, and they were planning their wedding together.

Was the recipe a family secret turned into a real love spell? Likely not, but she certainly couldn’t argue with the results.

“Would you like some help?” he asked, rolling up the cuffs of his linen shirt.

Constance made sure to get an eyeful of his sculpted forearms before moving her eyes north to his visage. “Well, I was going to say that you should get comfortable and enjoy some brandy after the long drive, but … if you really don’t mind, I’d love that.”

“Really?”

“I always enjoy cooking with you.”

That decided it, as far as he was concerned. He all but skipped into the kitchen, eager for nothing more than to spend time with her.

They worked side-by-side in the kitchen for the next half hour, preparing the poultry and browning the butter in tandem. All the while, Ebenezer asked questions about the recipe, inquiring about amounts and the specific brands of some ingredients (like the butter).

As they worked, they sipped a freshly uncorked Malbec, a shared favorite of theirs.

“So, your mother taught you this recipe, did she?” Ebenezer asked while chopping the fresh garlic. Julienne first, then brunoise.

“Yes. When I was just a teenager. I learned it quickly, as it’s pretty simple. Sometimes the best recipes are.”

“You should still write it down,” he suggested with a smile, giving her a longing gaze. “Pass it down to the next generation. Starla might make it one day as one of her favorite recipes.”

“Mmhmm. Perhaps one day, if she’d like.” Thankfully, they still had quite a bit of time before then.

The cryptic response earned a slight brow waggle of amusement but was quickly forgotten as she directed him to add the garlic to the butter pan.

He scanned the other ingredients scattered on the counter and noted a bottle of cheap, brown-bottle sherry. They used it often in recipes back home, so she’d brought an extra for their trip. “Shall we add a splash?”

“Mm … there’s no other alcohol in the dish, so it shouldn’t conflict with anything. Let’s try it.”

Another ten minutes later, and the meals were plated. They moved from the kitchen to the cabin’s quaint dining room table to eat. It was a small, circular table, which forced them closer than usual. Neither complained in the slightest.

“Heavens, I should have brought tapered candles,” he teased, “That’s all we’re missing for a classic romantic table setting.”

Constance gave him a good-natured chuckle as she refilled his glass of wine. “Let’s not get too crazy on our first night of vacation.”

They shared a laugh, clinked their glasses, and began to eat.

Immediately after the first bite, her eyes lit up. “Wow. Ebenezer, that splash of sherry was a wonderful idea!”

He gave her leg a playfully jostle with his foot. “Told you so.”

As the tranquil night’s sapphire shadow stretched across London and the speckling of cities surrounding it, Bess found herself stirring.

As she rose from her bed, she furrowed her brow in confusion. Normally, she was awoken by noise, a dream or – something. At least her phone alarm. In this case, the woman had to take a beat to let reality coalesce around her before she realized what had awakened her.

She moved her hand to the other side of the bed, seeking the familiar warmth of her fiancé, who always rested right beside her, and usually had at least one arm around her. As she suspected, his spot was vacant. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, it only took one survey of their bedroom before her eyes landed upon the familiar outline of her soon-to-be husband.

Ebenezar “Wolf” Scrooge was crouched over the bassinet in their room, grinning from ear to ear as he chattered nonsense at Starla. Even from the bed, she could hear her little giggles and coos in response to his playful chatter.

Bess sat up fully, bringing her knees up slowly before crossing her arms. “I didn't hear her cry.”

“She didn't,” Wolf whispered, “I got up to use the loo and just peeked in at her when I came back and she was awake, cooing and smiling up at me. I think the toilet flush might have roused her; we might want to consider using the guest bathroom through the nights she's here.”

“Good idea.”

For the next few moments, Bess was a captive audience as she observed Wolf gently poke at Starry's tummy. The act earned even more of those adorable giggles.

Then, just when she thought she couldn’t smile wider, one of the babe’s chubby hands lofted to grab his nose and squeeze it. Bess laughed, then quickly smothered the sound with the back of her hand.

Letting out a light squeak in surprise, he then chuckled. “My! S-Strong grip already, haha.”

Starry roared with laughter at his reaction, bicycling her onesie-covered feet in the air.

“Oh, now she's very much awake. My, oh, my … well, what should we do about that? We can’t have you awake for too long – you’ll be cranky later. Here, up you go.”

He gingerly reached into the bassinet and picked her up. Scrunching her legs, she immediately calmed down as Ebenezar allowed her to rest upon the warm expanse of his chest. By the time her coos quieted, his arms had already wound around her protectively.

“Well, how about we take a few laps around the flat?” he asked her in an amusingly conversationalist tone. “That always calms my mind. Does that sound alright, little one?"

“…Weh. A-ba!”

“Hah. Very good. Clever girl.”

As he cradled her, he hummed a soft melody, the tones reverberating from deep in his chest. The act almost immediately made the little redhead’s eyes heavy, but she stayed awake, occasionally squirming against her comfy confinement.

Moving slowly, he walked her down to the flat’s main living area. “Now, my dear, for an exclusive tour of the chateau. To your left, you will see the electric fireplace – we’d love to use it with you, but you need to be in a playpen for that. You’re just a little too curious with those hands of yours.”

Exemplifying his point, Starla reached up and tried to grab his nose again. Veering his head away in the nick of time, he smirked and wagged a finger at her. “Now, now. Fool me once, and only once, little one.”

She giggled again, as if she understood she’d been caught red-handed and reveled in the mischief of it.

The next stop was the veranda for some fresh night air and to show her all her auntie's outdoor plants and garden boxes.

“Look at these pretty-pretties, Little Star,” he said, pointing at the vibrant clusters of petals amidst a sea of evergreen. “These are called ‘marigolds’. These ones are very special, because they bloomed the very day you were born. And Auntie Bess has kept them healthy and strong since then. Aren’t they lovely?”

“…Beh?”

“Haha, yes.”

He patted her back and brought her back inside before the chill proved to be too much for her. She squirmed slightly, burrowing herself against his chest, seeking warmth. The sensation nearly stole the breath from his lungs, and he fought the urge to grip her form even more protectively.

Bess traipsed behind them softly, deciding to grab a midnight snack while everyone was already awake. After all, with a baby in the flat, their already normal schedules would surely become vastly out of whack in the coming days. It would be prudent to adapt, and steal moments of sleep and substance whenever possible.

As she walked to the fridge and reached inside for a carton of blueberries, she watched them the whole while. With each observed interaction, her heart just turned to utter goo. She always knew her Wolf would make the most adorable father.

If only she could give him one of his own, she thought with a familiar ache of melancholy. She wished with her whole heart for it to be possible, but some things simply weren’t meant to be. That didn’t mean it didn’t well up tears in her eyes on those particularly hard days.

But she knew he'd be an amazing dad to any child that came into their life, however they decided to go about it.

In the meantime, they would have plenty of company and precious moments to fill their cups with in the interim.

As Wolf drifted into the kitchen, the couple shared a soft forehead bump.

“Did my garden meet her standards?” Bess asked, keeping her voice low.

“Nothing short of stellar.”

When they parted, they glanced down in tandem to see that Starla had finally fallen asleep. With the grace of the lupine creature he was nicknamed after, Ebenezar made his way up the stairs to deposit her back in the safety of their quiet bedroom. After closing the door (leaving it open a crack), he made his way back downstairs with a yawn.

Bess awaited him, having already prepared him a serving of blueberries. She also pulled some strawberries from the fridge, which he was never one to say no to.

“It’ll be dawn soon,” Bess said as she slid him a plate with a soft smile.

“I woke you up. I apologize.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said softly, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm, “Besides, seeing you like that with her … that was worth waking up for.”

Tenderness touched the corners of his eyes, relaxing the muscles of his face ever-so-slightly. His larger hand moved to cover hers, giving it a slight squeeze.

“It … does make me think, I confess,” he admitted.

“It makes me think, too,” she admitted softly.

A beat passed before Ebenezar seemed to sense the remorse in her voice and moved around the kitchen island to pull her into an embrace. His hands rubbed up and down her spine as her head found its favorite spot right over his thumping heart. As her hand laid over the plane of his robed chest, she could still feel the heat there from where Starla’s weight had rested mere minutes earlier.

“We’ll have a family someday,” he promised his fiancée. “I know it.”

She nodded, believing him, and believing it in herself too. He always inspired the best of her good faith, not just in others, but in herself.

“Yes,” she replied shakily. “Yes. We will.”

Somehow, some way.

With sunrise mere blinks away, Ebenezar offered to fill the kettle to start some tea. Since they were snacking, they might as well start their day, he reasoned. They both had the day off, which made the decision even easier.

As he prepared the tea, she moved their morsels to the living room area. Bess then drifted to the window shades to raise them in anticipation of the sunrise.

“You think those lovebirds are up yet?” Wolf asked as he set the kettle to boil. “Their internal clocks are sharp as tacks, and if Starry rouses as easily at home as she does here, I’m tempted to take bets on if they’ll sleep in at all.”

“I hope so,” Bess said, yawning into an open palm. “Connie especially. Those weeks when she was going into work early … she was setting alarms as early as three in the morning.”

“Gods above – whatever for?”

“Compulsion, guilt … many reasons. Anyway, they seem to be doing better since the incident, and according to Adonis, she’s started sleeping again.”

And cuddling, she thought secretly, remembering when Connie had called her in excited tears after her and Adonis had woken up entangled in each other’s arms for the first time in months.

“Thank goodness,” he said. “Especially as a new mother, she needs sleep. Connie is just as bad as you at putting other matters at hand before herself, after all.”

“I’ll let that comment slide since it’s still early, sir, and we both need caffeine.”

He chuckled from afar.

“Well, if anyone can get her into bed, I venture it’s safe to say that your brother can.”

Wolf made a noise of vague disgust as the electric kettle beeped, and he went about measuring the tea leaves for two mugs.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she teased, sitting up to look at him from the other side of a tufted armchair. “And even if I did, am I wrong?”

“Ugh.”

“Darling, they have a baby,” she laughed, “Certainly you know.”

“Know WHAT, exactly?” he challenged, his accent flaring up with the question. “That adorable little gummy-mouthed angel was delivered first-class by the stork. Or she sprouted up in a cabbage-patch. Or perhaps Constance has perfected the art of mitosis. Whatever way that little sun drop came into being, she certainly didn't come from MY brother. My brother is as endowed and capable of relations as a Ken doll. Clinging to that fact is the only way I can sleep at night, I’ll have you know.”

“That's a little dramatic, don't you think?”

“Be sent an accidental sext by one of YOUR family members and see what insanity YOU come up with to cope with the trauma, Elizabeth.”

Bess let out a musical laugh, and the sound was beautiful enough that any unpleasant imagery lingering in his mind was immediately sanctified by the heavenly ring of her voice. Unfortunately, she was quick to clap a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of mirth. He stiffened as well, realizing why she’d suddenly gone stone silent.

Glancing up the flat’s stairs, she paused as her midnight eyes rested on the overlook window that showed their bedroom, a nightlight for the little girl casting ghostly silhouettes against the glass.

His eyes followed hers, his body not moving an inch. He was frozen mid-step, a steaming mug in each hand, eyes wide and lips rolled between his teeth.

When no giggles or cries wafted from the open door, they both relaxed in tandem. Heaving matching sighs, he crossed the threshold of the room to deliver a mug of tea into her hands.

“Thank you,” she mouthed out.

“You’re very welcome.”

Bess scooted over in the spacious armchair, patting the space beside her. Rolling his eyes (the loveseat would be more practical) he was powerless to resist her. He slowly settled down beside her. The tight confines meant that she had to scoot into his lap for them to both be seated together.

Predictably so, neither disagreed.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best place in the flat to sit side-by-side, but it was a damn fine place for a pair of engaged lovers to snuggle up.

It also happened to be the best place in the flat to watch the impending sunrise.

While one couple was slowly waking up from their restful slumber, another couple had avoided sleeping altogether.

As it turned out, the lovebirds had not gotten a wink of sleep that night.

With a straw-soft gasp, Constance ground her hips down, stuttering frantically on her descent. She moved briskly, chasing a final, blinding surge of pleasure as her and her husband’s hips swayed with piston-like precision toward their goal. She sat atop him, straddling his hips, hair thrown back over her shoulders while her hands sought the wide expanse of his chest for balance.

They’d gone to bed rather late after dinner, after spending many more hours dancing in the living room and sharing glasses of wine. By the time they finished their last dance, their lips had come together in a series of increasingly frantic kisses. He all but walked her backwards into the bedroom, unzipping her dress and kicking off his slippers with ease.

He’d then lifted her up, thrown her on the massive oak-frame bed, and made passionate love to her there for hours. The foreplay alone stretched into the night, with them worshipping each other’s bodies with grasping hands and cradling thighs. Lips explored, tasted and savored velvety areas that the other would never dream of letting another human being see, let alone touch.

When their bodies did finally come together, hips bucking in tandem and throats raw from screaming each other’s names, the beginning rays of dawn had begun to peek over the horizon.

With one last sob of pleasure, Constance sank down hard and threw her head back, her body spasming around the contour of him. Drawn and sweat-slicked, she rode the waves of release with frantic gasps, all while her husband’s massive hands clamped onto her hips and helped amplify the force of her sways.

“That’s right, give it all to me,” he coaxed, his voice hoarse but firm. “All of it. All of it, darling.”

With one last exclamation of his name in the otherwise soundless bedroom, she let out a whimper of relief.

Slowly, her arms began to bow from strain. Ebenezer released her hips and went to hold her elbows, his strong hands fitting around the joints easily. Taking all the strain off her exhausted body, he supported her on a slow descent.

“There you go. Slowly. I have you…”

He rolled to his side and guided her onto the mattress, where he took the initiative of shimmying his hips away from hers. With a nod of permission, he pulled out as gingerly as possible, as they were both quite over-sensitive.

While Constance laid on the bed and caught her breath, he discreetly removed the condom, tied it off, and tucked it into the wastebasket that they’d pulled near the bed hours before. It wasn’t the first condom they’d used that night-turned-morning.

When he turned back to her, the visual of her nude body reclined against the bed – her ample bosom heaving and red hair draped over the pillow in tousled ringlets – captivated him to stillness. One of her hands had lofted to her chest, laying over her heart, as if she was trying to caress it into calmness.

He gazed upon her like she was a painting to be admired. The spell was only broken when her cornflower blue eyes opened to meet his. Still breathless, she smiled and reached out to him. To touch him. To hold him.

He was quick to twine their fingers, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there.

Gods, when was the last time they’d made such passionate love, he wondered. It had to have been before Starla was born. And for hours – literally until dawn? That, he knew, they’d never done before.

He was sure his muscles would be screaming at him in the coming days (and rallying himself would take a moment – he wasn’t a teenager anymore), but sod it all, it was beyond worth it.

He kissed up the length of her arm, relishing in the laughter he earned as his other arm swept her close, gathering her just so her back was pressed to his furred chest. She was putty in his embrace and moaned in soft delight as his arms crossed around her with possessive adoration. Even after being joined for hours, he still wanted to cradle her close, sweat and musk be damned.

When his lips finally reached the destination of her cheek, he spent an extra moment lingering there.

He laughed, and with his lips still pressed to her skin, the feeling sending a tingle through her. The effect lured a smile to her lips, and she languidly stretched her arms out in front of her as he continued to dot kisses along the back of her sun-kissed shoulder blades.

“Gods above, you are fantastic,” he whispered with the reverence of a man reciting a mantra by heart.

With one last squeeze, he released her so they could lay side by side more comfortably. Most importantly, they could also gaze in each other’s eyes, which was a post-coital ritual he insisted upon. In his mind, to drift into the haze of slumber without glimpsing the eyes of the woman who had brought him to ruin was borderline heretical.

However, once he opened his arms, he was alarmed to see her rise from the blankets. For a panicked moment, he was thrown back into the memories of the days when she would shun his touch and rise from bed immediately to leave him, turning his back on him to succumb to the tedium of work.

Without realizing it, his hand had nearly shot out to snatch her back.

Yet, this time, she did not leave the bed.

In her naked glory, she instead rose and turned to the massive window that backed the impressive bed. She drew the curtains, and he squinted against the light.

She then undid the latches, snapping them open with ease, and hoisted the pane high over them. Fresh air swelled into the bedroom like a crescendo of music. After all, their activities had made the bedroom quite stuffy, and while the lingering perfume of sex was intoxicating, it was far from refreshing.

The second the glass lifted, a wave of sunflower-scented air rolled in. The crispness immediately brightened his senses.

“There we go,” she said before slowly drifting back down to him.

That was when she noticed his hand, still partially extended to her.

Noting his reach, sadness touched her eyes for a moment before she took his larger hand between hers. Breath fluttered in his lungs as she closed her fingers around hers, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The declaration was punctuated with a resolute stare, her perfectly plucked brows slanting inward as she studied his face … studying to see if he believed her.

He answered her inquiry by luring her back onto her back, where he covered her smaller frame with his wider one.

Before he could stop himself, he spoke the words, “Kiss me again, please.”

He felt foolish for a moment, asking for a kiss of all things after their prolonged coupling. Yet, Constance answered without a smidge of hesitation. Her hand snaked upward, fingertips skimming the shape of his jaw and feathering through his sideburns. Cupping the back of his head, she tangled her fingers in his silver locks and nudged him down. He descended upon her as she rose to meet up, their mouths meeting again. Chastely. Sweetly.

Lovingly.

After a shared shower, Ebenezer donned a new linen shirt and pair of trousers in the thinnest material he had. It was to be a slightly warmer day than before, and unlike the day prior, he had a small itinerary for the morning.

“My dear, I’m going into town to fetch breakfast from that little bakery Olivia mentioned,” he said from his station in from of their bedroom’s large vanity. “It should be about a thirty-minute walk. I could drive, but it’s not that far.”

While he spoke, he snapped his antique, silver Piaget on his wrist. He slid the watch face into a proper position, he checked his freshly dried hair in the mirror before angling his eyes toward the reflection of the open ensuite bathroom door behind him.

Moments later, Constance padded out, donned in a terrycloth robe and her hair freshly curled and make-up applied to perfection. Her eyes and lips were more naturally adorned than usual, allowing him to appreciate the natural shape and color of her features.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” she enthused.

“You’re more than welcome to join me.”

“I might … um, how are your legs?”

He laughed. “Sore, but not terrible. A stretch and some exercise will do them good. How about you? You were the one doing the more, erm, physical work last night.”

It was true. Her legs felt a little wobbly, and she was definitely tender in other areas, but not to the point of no return.

“Would you mind waiting for me?” she inquired. “I promise I’ll dress quickly – Olivia said to arrive early, after all.”

“Well, of course! I’d love your company. We can drive if—”

“No, no, a walk sounds lovely!” she said.

“…You’re sure?” he asked.

There was layered reasoning to his question that extended far beyond their intimacy the night prior. Thanks to her ex-husband, Constance had a previously snapped femur in each leg that each had required many years of potent (and highly addictive) pain medicine to manage, on top of other substances she’d already been using at the time. It wasn’t until recently that her legs had healed to the point where she no longer required daily pills or physical therapy.

Nonetheless, her legs were weaker, tired easily … and she was also an incredible klutz. It was as adorable as it was concerning, and as much as he enjoyed catching her, he still worried for her.

He was a man in love, and as such, he worried and toiled over her, especially considering their recent incident.

“Darling, the figures can wait.”

“No, they can’t. The client turned them earlier today. It’s the last of the month – if they don’t go in this report before the end of business hours today, they’ll be added to next month’s expenditures. It’ll throw everything off!”

He’d always worry about her. Her determination to survive was also a compulsion to action. When the jaws of a bear trap snapped shut, Constance would tear herself free, no matter the pain and blood. That was the problem.

“We can afford to eat more than a fair share of checks. Please. We can figure it out and re-balance tomorrow.”

“I’m so close, Ebenezer. I can do it.”

“I know you can, Constance. That’s not the issue. It’s just—”

“I promise I’ll be only a moment,” she said. “Wait for me?”

“I just need to input a few more lines, Ebenezer. Please, go on without me. I’ll be just along in just a minute.”

No sooner had the man agreed and sat down in the living room armchair that she reappeared again, fully dressed in a silky maroon midi-dress, synched at the waist. A pair of espresso-colored wedge sandals (not stilettos, bless her) completed the ensemble. She wore her hair in a simple chignon, her second favorite way to wear her hair.

He checked the time with his watch, brows arcing into twin horseshoes. “That was fast.”

She had certainly kept her promise, he noted with great pleasure.

After a quick detour to the kitchen island to grab her shoulder bag, the two set off.

(Part 2 coming soon - thank you for reading!)

"No fog, no mist. Clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold—cold, piping for the blood to dance to—golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells—oh glorious, glorious!" ~ A Christmas Carol

#scrooge x oc #scrooge 2022 #oc constance dogoode #scroogeverse #oc bess scrooge #oc bess sullivan #oc ebenezar scrooge #strawberry sunrise

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erin-writes-ghost-fluff · 1 year ago

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I can't tell if this is cursed or not

I had thoughts lol.

A Christmas Carol Ghost AU, but Sister is the Scrooge character, and the three dead papas are the spirits of the past, present and future. Nihil is the Jacob Marley character.

Primo- Ghost of Christmas Past

Terzo- Ghost of Christmas Present

Secondo- Ghost of Christmas Future

MDNI

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost bc #erin rambles #papa terzo #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa secondo #papa emeritus i #papa primo

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papillondusublime · 10 hours ago

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9 haïkus (dans le même ordre que les photos auxquelles ils correspondent): 1) Comme des guirlandes, Suspendu, Papa Noël… Suspend les instants 2) Listés méchants, Scrooge Et le Grinch partagent plans… Pour voler Noël 3) Est tombée la neige… Bonhommes de neige lèvent Leur chapeau au ciel 4) Père Noël maigre, Le squelette d'Halloween… Revêt des lumières

5) P’tit renne au nez rouge D’eau changée en vin ou glace… Tiendras-tu les rênes? 6) Dans mes mots j’emballe Le présent, plus beau cadeau… Et mon cœur s’emballe! 7) Même les reflets Des boules de Noël brillent… En ciel étoilé 8) Mon chien Arès s’est Fait passer pour un sapin… War is over now 9) Jésus, Roi des Juifs, Pour couronne de Noël… A Son auréole

#haiku poetry #daily haiku #haiku #haiku poem #christmas tree #christmas #merry christmas #xmas 2024 #merry xmas #xmas time #xmas #holiday #holiday season #festive #festive season #santa claus

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ulrichgebert · 1 year ago

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Ein Spannungsfilm aus der Londoner Unterwelt (sofern mein Dänisch nicht trügt). Der kleine Freddie klaut im Nachkriegslondon einen gelben Ballon, dessen legitimer Besitzer bei der anschließenden Verfolgungsjagd in einem zerbombten Haus dummerweise tödlich verunglückt. Dabei wollten sie nur spielen und es war ein Unfall, was aber den windigen Schurken, der zufällig gerade vorbeikam nicht abhält, Freddie zu erpressen, ihm Angst vor der Polizei zu machen (dabei ist es der spätere Geheimdienstchef Bernard Lee) und ihn für seine üblen Machenschaften einzusetzen. Als der sich aber auf das Gute im Menschen besinnt, kommt es zu einem spannenden Katz-und-Maus-Spiel in einer halbzerfallenen, unbenutzten U-Bahn-Station. Huuh! Andrew Ray kam gerade erst als Mudlark vor, und Papa Kenneth More singt uns manchmal als Ghost of Christmas Present mit Scrooge Albert Finney in Adventsprogramm "I Like Life!"

#The Yellow Balloon #Andrew Ray #William Sylvester #Kathleen Ryan #Kenneth More #Bernard Lee #Film gesehen #J. Lee Thompson

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callme--starchild · 5 years ago

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Crazy Old Man

Summary: Scrooge didn't need a growing hero to rescue him, but he didn't know why it essentially bothered him that he did it.

If Scrooge had been hinted that the adventures were in his life even if he was doing something other than being Donald and Della's tutor, he honestly wouldn't have doubted it.

However, he did not expect at all to appear on a quiet afternoon of work, being one that did not involve treasures, while the twins were in high school, when his hardheaded ward was not overprotecting him to make sure he did not get hurt as well as Della.

The years had passed since the death of their parents, the twins had finally accepted it and though the pain was still present they decided to move on, the panic attacks of the male, young duck had finally diminished thanks to the sessions with the psychotherapist and they already saw the adventures as the daily bread when they did not fulfill their academic work.

Their personalities had been molded, despite having small nuances that managed to differentiate them since they were ducklings: Donald, though more predisposed to accompany them, was still the same wee lover of the sea, cautious about temples, caves and other explored places, besides having inherited the homely and overprotective behavior of his parents—making him their vivid portrait—and extremely temperamental in fighting for his family; Della, on the other hand, had inherited his passion for adventures and treasure hunting in places unknown to the rest of the world, the wee space lover always looked forward to the next adventure with her uncle, equally stubborn and throwing herself head on to danger, with a more moderate character compared to her brother.

That is why he would have been surprised when, returning to the mansion in the limousine—driven by Duckworth of course—he was surprised by a crash caused by a pantry truck against a set of vehicles, a chain reaction that caused traffic to crowd around it.

"What in the blazes is this city with car accidents?" He growled under his breath, adjusting his spectacles and watching the cloud of smoke from the windshield that he had understood from the capot of several cars. Discreetly, he watched that again some of the drivers, especially the truck's, will not escape; his nephew and niece had not been able to sleep in peace until the driver who had crashed into their vehicle was arrested, a process that also had not been very easy.

Unfortunately he was not very patient, and the board that was waiting for him in the money bin's office for the meeting either.

He got out of the limo without even listening to his butler raising his voice slightly despite his always monotonous accent, saying he could find a shortcut before he closed the vehicle door, beginning to walk the streets of Duckburg.

Better to walk to the money bin and endure Duckworth's complaints later than wasting time and money on gas that he could later replenish in the manor.

He had walked more during the adventures he had with Donald and Della and was still feeling quite young, after all. Thanks, but no thanks, he didn't need someone to care about him.

Not even when strange purple ducks stopped in front of him?

Bah, nothing he hadn't faced before.

"Wha' are ye, participants oaf a circus? Or a bad imitation of the Beagle family? Beca'se beli've me, ye're nothing Ah hadnae seen." He thought out loud, raising his cane to the ducks in front of him, who only looked at each other, surprised at the snarls of the Scottish duck.

One of them shrugged, seeming to raise his eyebrow—he didn't know, it was indistinguishable from the helmets they seemed to use. Two of them got off their flying skateboards, and quickly got into battle pose, ready to fight.

It was nothing he hadn't witnessed before.

One of them raised his ray gun—which seemed to have been obtained from a low-budget sci-fi movie—toward him, making him accommodate the brim of his top hat and hold his cane more tightly until his knuckles pale.

"Well, I'm late for the tea party? What a shame."

A voice was literally heard from the heights before a clearly metallic object struck the faces of the violet-skinned ducks causing them to fall before returning from it starting point in a boomerang effect.

Scrooge didn't have time to look at the adjoining roof when a masked duck landed in front of him, leaning on his right knee and left hand, the wind waving his cape and the ribbon of his blue sailor's cap while the sun's rays bathed him as if the special effects of a movie—paid for by McDuck Studios—were used.

He had turned his back, refusing to let him see the withering look that in spite of the mask was distinguished on his' face.

"What's up, guys? Have you felt so humiliated to be defeated by someone young that you now attack the elderly? Not even I fall so low, you disappoint me."

But despite the confidence the superhero distilled in his words, Scrooge could not help but sigh indignantly and frown.

Yes, clearly he was someone young though his deep voice contrasted to a short stature, and he also did not declare himself so young when he was over a century old, but who believed that child to refer to him in such certain way?

What did he not know with who's talking to? With someone who don't need to be rescued!

"Ye knoo? Ah appreciate yer help lad, but Ah'm fine, thank ye very much.” In a harsh voice, he touched the superhero's shoulder, feeling an electric current moving from his spine to the tips of his fingers as he brushed the cloth.

"Excuse me? If you have not noticed Un—Mr. McDuck, you was about to become a Coolflame, I am not so rude to attack—you sir," throwing his shield again while taking advantage of the rookie error of the aliens, smiled when he saw how the movement struck the guns, away from their reach.

For a moment he saw the blue eyes of the duck, causing a chill whose motives he did not know how to specify.

"Uno, are you there?" He spoke when the X-Transformer was within reach again, looking again and again at Scrooge and the Evronians scrutinizing his eyes.

"Strong and clear, Old Cape. Literally, lower the volume of your microphone please." A voice was heard, making him impossible to recognize the accent. "Wait, I can do it myself."

"Fine, I need you to take Mr. McDuck to a safe place." Donald knew that the Artificial Intelligence, despite the teasing, might be able to hack the limo and make Duckworth not only get out of traffic unexpectedly, but also achieve make it faster to fulfill his work.

That they attacked surprisingly when they used to do it at night, not only had he escaped from school, risking that they would call his uncle and risk his identity, but they had also made a fatal mistake dealing with someone in his family.

Even the smartest villain his uncle had knew he had never had to mess with one of them.

He kept his eyes fixed on the aliens when he sensed his uncle's vehicle approaching, smiling smugly, thinking about the confusion that might be on the butler's face.

This would be fun.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

The attack and consequent Paperinik's rescue had not taken long to appear in the news, from 00's to those of other well-known newscasts, so Scrooge was not taken by surprise when Donald stumbled into the mansion throwing his backpack towards the recliner, his blue flannel shirt messy and panting heavily.

"Unca' Scrooge!" He raised his voice as soon as he slammed into the study. The Scotsman had already made the counted coins aside, expectant to see his startled nephew. Beside him, Della was walking at a quieter pace, but that didn't take away her worried expression. "We hear what happened, are you alright?"

Practically the young duck squawked playing with the hem of his shirt. Scrooge requires remembering to schedule the next speech therapy for the boy.

He soon felt the teenager's arms surround his shoulders in a hug. The duck was incredibly strong for someone sixteen, not to mention he was measuring his strength so as not to hurt his uncle.

"Dinnae worry, lad, Ah'm fine. Th' egoc'ntric... hero, Paperinik, was there" the old man had been spitting his words while stroking the ward's hair feathers. The hero's pride had a collision with his, the excessive respect he still had as a completely new vigilante drowned him.

He said nothing when Donald hugged him harder, he did not perceive the tension that recorded his features.

When Della approached, though, he hid his face in his uncle's neck, stroking—almost preening—the askew feathers present there.

"Donald practically rushed Duckworth to get home faster, he wanted to know if you were okay. You know, typical Donald." She smiled nervously, playing with a lock of hair.

Scrooge patted her nephew's back awkwardly, stroking his back and forth, feeling back in time when the hardest part was sleeping a small, terrified duckling before a nightmare.

But the young duck closed his eyes tightly, coding even more in the face of his uncle's emotional contact.

He had to find a way to thank Uno for his quick assistance, he thought, leaving behind his dominated emotions about his devil-may-care and cool-for-being-affectionate behavior.

Because he was aware that he would do anything to protect his family, from the unthinkable as escaping from school when he received an Evronian alert that involved his uncle, to the most dangerous as being a superhero in the company of a bossy orb and keeping it secretly before a life where adventures were presented on a daily basis.

Because these ducks don't back down.

#teamuncleweek2019 #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #paperinik #this is just an excuse to use him #because i love pk so much #papa scrooge #papa scrooge au #also he didn't started as a criminal #as part of the au #day 7 #my weeks

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bg-sparrow · 2 years ago

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MERRY CHRISTMAS, @jayisnotdrawing! 🎄❤️😁

Title: Pennies From Heaven - A Back to the Future/ Elf AU Rating: G Words: 19K Summary: When Marty the Elf discovers that he is, in fact, not an elf, Papa Doc sends him on a journey to reunite with his long-lost mother, Lorraine – a corporate scrooge that’s no stranger to the naughty list. Marty has a lot to learn about life south of the North Pole, but Lorraine has even more to learn about family. Can Marty’s effervescent love restore her Christmas spirit? In the magical land of New York City, anything is possible.

#back to the future #elf 2003 #bttf #bttf au #bttf elf au #buddy the elf #secret santa #merry christmas #holiday fic #ao3 link #bgsparrow #pennies from heaven #just a bit of silliness really #marty mcfly #lorraine baines #doc brown #found family #crack taken seriously

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kaderp · 4 years ago

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ALRIGHT FUCKERS THIS IS GONNA BE A HELLA LONG MEGAPOST AS I WAS GIVEN THE OK

BASICALLY this is gonna be a collection of bullshit me and @blackfliesinbluesugar have come up with and drawn

It starts with Goldie still living in Ireland at 17-19 and Scrooge from ages 18-20 staying in Scotland. And long story short they're dumbasses as teens. Cliche forbidden romance type stuff. Goldie's dad has shot people in the foot for trying to mess around with Goldie or just even talk to her for too long. So the only logical explanation they have is make Scrooge hide in the barn when he visits.

Basically Scrooge chills in the barn for a while cause Goldie's the only one that ever really goes in there because she's in charge of all the chores there. Which is where the context of this post is from

After the first time they fooled around Goldie was like 'oh crap what if I got pregnant D:' and told her mom she's going through a phase of flowey/big dresses when in reality she's trying to hide a potential baby bump. Now her mom doesn't care because she's too caught up in the fact that Goldie is finally 'acting like a lady.'

So eventually because they never put together that 'hey, if we keeping doing this we're gonna end up with a baby', Goldie does end up pregnant. And because her dad is a dick and a 'I catch you with my daughter then you die' type of shotgun dad, Goldie is freaking tf out.

About a month after she finds out she's pregnant, the O'Gilt's (well mostly just Goldie and her mom lol) get invited to a fancy dinner and Scrooge is really wanting to see Goldie again. So what better way to see her than to travel to Ireland, steal a uniform, and sneak into said dinner party as a busboy. Problem is he can't risk Goldie's dad seeing him again so he tries to slick back his whiskers

But while Scrooge is running around, he eventually spots Goldie across the room. Now he's never seen her in anything fancy, usually just the flannel and green work skirt. And he just about dies 😭

By now she has a bit of a baby bump she's had to hide so she normally goes for high waisted dresses that immediately flow out.

Anyways, as Scrooge is putting on the uniform he realizes he has absolutely no idea how to actually be a busboy. He doesn't know the first thing about dining and stuff so he's just like AAAAAAA

As they both see each other, Scrooge gives a dorky grin and Goldie smiles before realizing he snuck in. Right when Scrooge goes to see her he gets dumped with a bunch of dishes he has to set. Goldie sees him struggling to figure out how to set a table and he just gives her a nervous grin while she's like 'oh you beautiful dumbass -_-'

She's turning red cause she's trying so hard not to burst out in laughter as Scrooge slips and a bunch of silverware falls on him

He's getting yelled at by the director but he's just giving Goldie a goofy grin from across the room.

Her parents: remember to be calm and not make a scene no matter wh-

Goldie watching Scrooge trip on the tablecloth: BWAHAHA

But as the dinner progresses, Goldie remembers Scrooge doesn't even know she's pregnant. So she keeps trying to tell him but they both constantly get pulled away to do other things.

Towards the end of dinner Scrooge gets a free moment and realizes then that 'holy shit I actually like really love her!' So he darts to wherever she is and is struggling to get it out cause he doesn't know how much time he has left. He eventually spits it out and tells Goldie he loves her and is immediately called away. Scrooge takes her hands and quickly kisses her cheek before running to wherever the director is calling him from.

Goldie is shocked and stays still for a moment but by the time the shock wears off she realizes Scrooge is already long gone and they don't see each other again. And now Goldie's like 'crap crap crap, he said he loves me and I didn't even tell him I'm pregnant.'

They aren't able to communicate for a while cause Goldie's so focused on trying to keep her family pleased while still hiding her baby bump, and Scrooge keeps getting sidetracked and forgetting to write. (You can't tell me that isn't something he'd do because he kept getting distracted in the life and times when coming back home). He has her address, and he has started a letter, and even his family knows about her. 3ish months pass of no communications until one night Goldie starts contractions.

She darts to the barn after the first contraction and realizes she has to do this alone. A letter takes a day to get to Scrooge and going to Scotland herself would take closer to 7 hours. At that point it would be safer to not move.

It's like 3am by the time she lays and the egg ends up being pretty small. The entire time Goldie was just getting sicker and sicker. She ends up too weak to even hide the egg and has a high fever. She seriously thinks she's not gonna make it for the first night she can barely stay conscious.

The next morning she has just enough strength to lazily hide the egg in the hay and sluggishly make her way back to the main house. Her parents are already up and she explains she started feeling iffy while doing chores and collapses.

Because her parents aren't completely heartless and she still is their daughter, her parents' main focus shifts to trying to nurse her back to health. They assume she fell with a bad flu and don't know she had spent all night laying an egg.

During this time she writes to Scrooge telling him to get over here asap, it's an emergency.

Goldie's parents take over her chores in the barn and the moment they said that Goldie went into panic mode again. During a lunch break she climbs through her window and runs to the barn to hide the egg better. She does, and she successfully makes it back to her room but collapses again and sleeps until the next day.

Scrooge arrives 3 days after she lays and now she's really panicking. She's still weak and sick, and her parents are coming closer and closer to finding the egg. Scrooge when he sees her is genuinely freaking out. Not only for the future and that he now has an egg, but because Goldie did it by herself in a dirty barn. She's still a little loopy even though it's been a few days and Scrooge just feels heart broken that he wasn't there to help. He starts going on a tangent about how she could have died but Goldie just kisses him to get him to stop blabbering.

Scrooge helps her clean up a bit cause even with her parents looking after her, she's still a mess. But as he's washing her and the egg up, they hear fighting from the main house. Her parents realized she wasn't in her bed. She starts crying and tells Scrooge he needs to run home asap because if her dad finds out he'll most definitely kill him and/or the baby.

(This was the first doodle for the au before deciding on an exact age/place/look so don't mind the sloppiness)

Scrooge escapes right as her dad comes in. She pulls the excuse of she thought she felt well enough to do chores.

Scrooge rn is running like a madman back to Scotland. He went from chilling with his family to being a father who's child needs to be kept secret within a day.

By the time Scrooge gets back home it's the middle of the night and is ngl feeling pretty overwhelmed. He tells Downy that he messed up and she's just like ??? So Scrooge holds up the egg and Downy just purses her lips like 'ah'

The next morning Scrooge explains to his family what happened and doesn't leave out any detail. Fergus and Downy obviously have mixed feelings. Scrooge is barely 19 yet he already has a kid??? But in the end they realize they can't change what's happened and focus on helping Scrooge protect this child.

Once the baby hatched, all mixed feelings from Downy erased and she just went into 'this is my grandbaby and no one will touch her' mood.

Scrooge and Goldie kept in contact from the moment Goldie gave away the egg. Because of the little incident of Goldie 'trying to do chores while sick,' she was put under close monitoring for the next few months and couldn't visit each other. After constant writing back and forth, they find a date to meet up half way between Scotland and Ireland so Goldie can meet her baby. They try to decide on baby names through the letter but they can't agree on anything. Goldie finds out that Scrooge moved out of his small Glasgow home and into McDuck Castle. He gives her the new location on the map as well.

The first time Scrooge tries to sneak out with the baby Fergus is just standing right outside with his brow arched and Scrooge starts freaking out.

Before Scrooge can apologize for trying to sneak out, Fergus just asks if Scrooge would like him to go with.

Scrooge is a little shocked but can't talk with the frog in his throat and just nods. Along the way Scrooge explains how he and Goldie have been trying to find the right time to sneak out for weeks because it was so hard for Goldie to get free time. She was sent to go across country to get supplies and uses that opportunity to go meet up with Scrooge and the baby again.

Fergus just nods and continues.

When they do see Goldie, she almost breaks down at the sight that the baby survived and is being raised in a good house hold and can't stop holding her. The baby is about 3 months old by now. They finally agreed on a name and she ended up being named Maryanne. (Yes Jelly and I chose that because it means Star of the Sea)

She has to give the baby back to Scrooge cause stupid teenage and still getting over pregnancy hormones are getting the better of her and she starts full on sobbing as she sits on the ground. Scrooge freezes cause he's like aaaaaa what do I dooooo while still holding the baby.

But Fergus crouches down to her and asks if she wants a hug. All Goldie can say is 'uh huh' and he just wraps himself around her. She hugs back and Fergus rocks back and forth until Goldie's calmed down.

'I'm sorry I pulled your son into the mess. I-I was just so scared that my papa w-would kill one of us that I didn't know what else to do.'

Fergus pulls her away so he can actually look at her. And part of him feels that tinge of fear and sadness that the two teens had experienced. He grabs onto her shoulders which causes Goldie to look up at him.

'While I dinnae agree what you two did was right. Ah'm proud of you. Because what you did, finding the will to give up a child for their own safety, took a lotta strength there, lass.' And before she can react, Fergus pulls her in again and let's it sink in.

Scrooge is still holding the baby but now he's sitting down and bouncing the cooing baby on his knee while watching the scene unfold.

Over the course of the next few months, Goldie visits as much as possible and she grows closer to the family and Scrooge every time. On the times she can't visit, Fergus accompanies Scrooge in order to protect them from Goldie's dad. She's had a few close calls with her dad, but nothing too serious

After those events, Goldie practically moves in with the McDucks and they work on raising Maryanne. However like in the Rosa series, they're still experiencing tax trouble and Scrooge says he's gonna have to go to South Africa. The baby is about 2 by now and Scrooge is almost 21, while Goldie is about 19 and a half.

(This next section was an accident but basically it started as jotting down ideas but turned into a fic after I said it would take 20 seconds to write but turned into 2 hours fjdbfndn)

Scrooge is torn between whether or not to go until Goldie says she'll go with him. And because she's stubborn, no one objects. So the three travel across the world together. Maryanne practically grows up on the sea and all of those adventures where Goldie is present in the DT17 Rewriting History book happen.

On adventures they trade off tying the baby to their backs until she's old enough to not need to anymore. Although for the more dangerous ones, one of them stays behind.

But because they weren't married and had a kid in their teens, they were generally looked down upon. It got to the point where they just started saying they were married in order to avoid conflict with others. And after a while they actually forgot they weren't in fact married

'Huh, I forgot we're not actually married.' 'WAIT WE'RE NOT???'

'We're married' 'Oh ok, can i see your marriage records?' '... oh right'

But some old lady or old guy either way starts criticizing Goldie for being a young mother and they just deck the shit outta them and run. Or Goldie fighting someone with baby tied to her back.

Maryanne grows up to be an ocean cartographer and leads sailing expeditions and that's all we have for her. Also she has super blue eyes lol

That's basically almost all of the things we have for this au lol

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #disney #duck tales #don rosa #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #au #glittering goldie #scroldie #teen scroldie au #long post #really long post #megapost

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starsfic · 3 years ago

Note

AU where Poe gets Lena as a baby before turning into a bird(if he does in this au)

1. Poe sacrificed his own shadow to make her.

2. Magica figured she was for evil purposes.

3. Lena's first word was Papa.

4. Magica abandoned her after Poe was transformed and Scrooge took her.

5. Lena has no idea who she is until she finds Magica's pendant.

#Stars Answers #au #Ducktales

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mixel-arts · 4 years ago

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An all star Reunion AU- What if Scrooge finally meets papa smurf and became Couple good Friends during the Reboot Reunion

Bouns:

#all star #all star cartoons to the rescue #art #paint tool sai #papa smurf #the smurfs #smurfs #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #scrooge mcduck #papacrooge #i made smurfs into human sized in my verison #fight me XD #digital art #fanart #crossover

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younganonymus · 5 years ago

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5 // 10 // 13 // 15 // 19 // 21 // 30 // 33 // 36 // 67 // 77 // 88 // 102 // 140 // 153 // 157 // 162 // 163 // 189 ? 🌺

Augenfarbe: Lustigerweise wurde mir neulich von @nichttherapierbar mitgeteilt, dass ich wohl sogenannte “hazel-eyes” habe, also Augen, deren Farbe sich entsprechend den Umständen ándern. Habe es nun ewig beobachtet und ja, es stimmt. Sie werden zwar nicht krass anders, aber es variiert stark zwischen hellem blau und dunklem Grün. Zumindest ist das mir bisher aufgefallen. Und ansonsten sage ich immer, dass sie sehr einer Kiwi ähneln, von innen.

Angst wovor: Dass ich nie (wieder) glücklich werde. Oder anders formuliert: dass ich mich noch weiter durch dieses schreckliche "Leben" plagen muss, ohne irgendwie irgendwo Erfolg zu verspüren oder akzeptiert zu werden. Das nervt.

Traumberuf: Schwer zu beantworten, habe meine Bedürfnisse immer mehr zurück geschraubt mit stetigen Niederlagen... Früher Superheld in der Nacht, während ich Tags als Polizist arbeite, dann Sport, dann sorachlich irgendetwas, dann Ausbilder in der Bundeswehr, dann Handwerker und mittlerweile wäre ich zufrieden, wenn ich wüsste welchen Beruf ich dauerhaft ausführen darf. Ja, DARF. Denn es kam immer irgendetwas dazwischen, dass mein Studium, meine Ausbildung, meinen Lehrgang abgebrochen hat. Entweder bin ich zu dumm dafür oder ich habe es nicht anders verdient, keine Ahnung.

Was interessiert mich: Sorachen! Wenn ich wüsste wie, hauptsächlich im Sinne von Zeit, würde ich soviele Sprachen lernen wie nur irgends möglich; Schon früh fing ich an mit Chinesisch, war seit der dritten Klasse immer in Leistungskursen für Englisch, hatte extrem viel Interesse an Französisch, wenn meine Noten auch leider anfangs anderer Meinung waren, brkam leider nie Spanisch unterrichtet sodass ich von selbst versuche es mir beizubringen, italienisch finde ich sehr faszinierend, Russisch ist interessant, wenn auch nicht meinr Lieblingssprache, Japanisch scheint recht leicht zu verstehen zu sein,... (Ich glaube, ich könnte noch ewig so weiter machen...)

Wieso ich mit tumblr angefangen habe/hier bin: Das übliche typisch deutsche Verhalten: Mann verliebt sich, Mann wird poetisch, Mann wird verletzt, Mann drückt Schmerzen, Gefühle und Gedanken in Worten aus. Mittlerweile schreibe ich zwar kaum noch Gedichte, aber weg war es noch nie. Lag mir immerhin schon als ich noch zwölf war. :-). [Selbstlob stii_iiinkt!]

Tja, welchen Ort würde ich zu gerne mal sehen...: Es gibt so viele... Mittlerweile sage ich kaum noch China (vermutlich des Misserfolges wegen) und tendiere eher zu Amerika. Also explizit Arizona und Florida, aber hauptsächlich würde ich mir super gerne die für Country (Music) bekannten Orte ansehen. Und Florida der Skate-Strecke am Strand wegen.

Jup, ich interessiere mich sehr für Politik, auch wenn ich mich nahezu gar nicht aktiv dafür einsetze, aber ich tausche mich sehr gerne mit anderen darüber aus, auch dann, beziehungsweise gerade dann, wenn ich auf jemand extrem eingestellten treffe. Und auch wenn viele sich nie mit ihm unterhalten würden, so lernte ich hier mal jemanden kennen, der stolzer Anhänger der Afd ist und sich selbst als rechts eingestuft sah. Glaubt mir, wir schrieben völlig "normal" wie mit jedem anderen auch umd hatten trotzdem interessante Themen.

Nope, ich bin nicht navhtragend. Eher mir selber gegenüber. Also von wegen mach irgendetwas dass mich verletzt und ich werde von mir selber enttäuscht sein, weil ich es beispielsweise niccht vorhersehen kommen habe.

Mich mit einem Wort selber beschreiben: HASS

Etwas unverzeihbares: LÜGEN!!! Ich kann es auf den Tod nicht ab wenn jemand lügt! Sag mir, dass du mich nicht leiden kannst und ich komme damit besser klar als jedes Mal dein verlogenes Grinsen sehen zu müssen.

Habe ich schonmal etwas übernatürliches erlebt? Ja, nicht nur einmal. Und nein, dass liegt nicht daran dass mich andere schon immer als verrückt beschrieben haben. Denn oft genug gab es Zeugen dafür. Bestes Beispiel: Als ich früher noch viel meditiert habe (und Yoga nachging), konnte ich durch meine "Konzentration", keine Ahnung, quasi schweben. Also ich habe so wie sonst auch Parcours betrieben und bin aber eben nicht normal hinter dem Geländer zu Boden gefallen, sondern flog zeri Meter weiter. Und ja, das wurde von außerhalb bestätigt. (Neulich wurde mir auch geraten, dem Meditieren besser wieder nachzugehen, vor allem wenn ich damals schon solch statke Effekte hervorrufen konnte, aber mir fehld die Motivation dazu.)

Einen Rat für euch: Seid ehrlich. Auch wenn ihr euch dafür Ärger einfangen könnt, die potenzielle Bestrafung fällt niedriger aus als wenn ihr gelogen hättet. Hat mir in Klassenarbeiten geholfen, in zwei Klausuren, im Studium, bei der Bundeswehr, in der Familie (falls ich die so nennen kann) und bei "Freundschaften".

Hahahahahahaha!!! X-D X-D X-P Ob ich Höhenangst habe?!? Wie könnte ich denn dann Parcours nachgehen, suoer gerne bouldern und klettern oder von Beruf Dachdecker sein (noch)??? Nein, im Ernst: Je höher ich mich irgendwo befinde, desto ruhiger werde ich, sowohl geistig als auch körperlich. Und dabei ist mir vollkommen egal wie wacklig der Grund unter mir ist oder wie stark der Wind um mich heerumweht: ich kann nicht herunterfallen, wenn ich weit oben bin, durch meine imens hohe Ruhe. (Klingt widersprüchlich, ich weiß, aber ist so.)

Hah, ob ich gerade glücklich bin! Als ob! Ich war noch nie glücklich in meinem "Leben". Maximal zufrieden über etwas oder mit jemandem/einer Situation, aber glücklich noch nie. Ich hatte immer schon den Gedanken im Hinterkopf, dass Leben eine Bestrafung sei und Tod die Erlösung aller Leiden. Auch mit meiner Ex, so zufrieden ich darüber auch war mit zusammen sein zu "dürfen", so wusste ich immer, dass ich keine Probleme oder Ängste mehr haben werde, wenn ich sterbe, egal woran.

Lieblingsband oder Musiker: Dadurch, dass ich verdammt viel und widersprüchiger Musikrichtungen höre, hier die Leute, denen ich am meisten Gehör schenke: Eminem, Black Eyed Peas, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Skillet, Papa Roach, Neelix, Evil Activities, Kraftklub, Cro, Trailerpark, Seeed, Zate,... und noch viele weitere mehr. Aber ganz weit oben, schon immer gewesen: Black Eyed Peas, Eminem und sämtliche erfolgreiche/berühmte Country-Sänger!

Lieblingsküche: chinesisch. Anosnsten gilt, ironischer Weise, je simpler desto besser! Also von Grillwaren zu Pommes zu Fischstäbchen/-Filet zu Rührei in sämtlichen Variationen zu Ksrtoffelpürree zu Nudeln zu blablabla (Und am meisten gerne esse ich noch immer frisch gebackene Brötchen aus dem Ofen mit sämtlichen Beilagen die einem belieben, sei es Honig, Nougat, Msrmelade oder eben auch Wurst. Super lecker!!!) .

Drei Dinge die ich mag: Sport, alte Gepflogenheiten, Musik

Drei Dinge, die ich hasse: rücksichtsloses Verhalten, Voreingenommenheit, Silvester! (Und glaubt mir, das war schon die freundlich formulierte und abgesoeckte Version...)

Winter oder Sommer? Ist das eine Fangfrage, sind hier Kameras versteckt??? Ich HASSE den Winter!!! Ich HASSE Schnee, ich HASSE Sylvester, ich hasse Weihnachten, wie könnte ich da den Winter mögrn?!? Das einzige, wofür ich ihn mag ist die Ruhe bei Nacht/Dunkelheit, ansonsten war es das! Ich hasse den Winter abgrundtief und kann ihn überhaupt nicht leiden. Unf alle, die sich davon jetzt angegriffen fühlen: Erstens, so gdht es mir wenn ihr den Sommer schlecht redet. Zweitens: Das ist meine Meinung und hat nichts mit euch zu tun. Drittens: Ja, wir können uns darüber unterhakten aber es wird nichts an meiner Perspektive verändern. Viertens: Für dich freut es mich, wenn du den Winter magst. Fünftens: Das heißt nicht, dass ich ihn mit meiner (nicht existierenden) Weihnachten-mögenden Freundin genießen kann. Akzeptiere bitte, dass ich nur in "Weihnachtsstimmung" komme, wenn ich dich (obligatorische Freundin) hellauf begeistert sehe und nur darin meine Freude empfinden kann und sonst dem Ganzen gar nichts abgewinnen kann. (Sechstens: Ja, ich bin mir durchaus bewusst dass ich eine verbitterter Ebenizer Scrooge - Mentalität habe.)

#fragen #music #musik #bps #sports #inlineskate #country

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angelspigeon · 5 years ago

Note

Sea Salt family AU? Isa and Lea are Roxas and Xion's adoptive dads and you can blow me away like you usually do!

Hiiii!!!

OMFG, you’re so kind with me?! 💙❤️💜

Thank you much for your ask!! And thank you to give me an opportunity to write something for Akusai Day!! (HAPPY AKUSAI DAY Y’ALL!!!)

I hope it’s what you expected as Sea Salt Family AU, I kind off improvised? If this isn’t what you expected, don’t hesitate to send me another ask with more details!!!

Also, the fic being pretty long, I posted it in AO3 too if it’s easier for some of you to read it!! Just here => | °|

Words: 2 818!!!

Six and half am.

The clock alarm reverberated in the room.

It wasn’t sane to get up that early! It shouldn’t even be allowed?! Lea took his pillow and pressed it over his face, groaning. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to get up… It was Tuesday and they were very far away from the weekend. He just wanted to sleep. It had been a really bad call from him to become a seller in the 4th District. Why did he have done that to him?! Maybe he hated himself?

If only he could grab his past him and hit him very hard?!

“Do you want me to wake you up in one hour?”

If only he could grab his past him and beg him to never ever let go Isa. To keep him very preciously… To cherish him every second.

“Yes, please?” he said, pushing back the pillow to see his lover undo the long braid he tied every night.

He watched his face, marked with an ugly scar. The ugly scar he received that day Radiant Garden got destroyed. Isa had a lot of difficulties to get used to it, but he did. With time. And love…

They landed here, at Traverse Town, and even if they were just teenagers, they did their best. They did their best because they had no other choice and…

The door opened suddenly.

“Daddyyyyyy!!!! Papaaaaaaaa!!!”

Two storms jumped on the bed, rolling on the blankets and asking hugs.

Just because of them.

Roxas and Xion.

They just were seventeen years old, they were lost, they had to do whatever they could and they had found those babies, abandoned. Their parents must be disappeared? Dead? So many people missed by this time and they had no other choices than helping them.

At first, they had thought about letting adults take care of them. But everybody was lost. Everybody was on the edge and so many of them turned psychotic. They were young but they decided to take care of them anyway. Isa was working from home, doing laundry or ironing for those who couldn’t, though it had been hard at first, and he took care of the children while Lea just did everything he could. Waiter? Cleaner? Seller? Anything to have Munnies.

It had been really hard at first.

Really.

But the two ten years old children jumping on Isa’s lap and the ring shining at Isa’s finger was everything he needed to know they did right. They were successful somewhere. It didn’t matter that he had to work so much, some months complying two jobs at once; it didn’t matter that Isa only make soup while one week, or that the snack of the children were often found gave by Merlin who always bought too much…

Yes, all of that was worth it.

“I don’t think you can go back to sleep,” Isa said.

“You’re right! But they’re so cute!!! Look at them!! Give them to me! You won’t even need to make the breakfast because I’ll eat them!”

“Nooooooo!!!”

Xion bounced from the bed and ran away. Roxas followed her after having kissed Lea’s cheek, running as fast as he could.

Isa finished undoing his hairs and leaned over Lea, kissing his lips tenderly.

“If you want to sleep, you still can.”

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“I have a good idea, yes,” Isa replied. “But it’s always nice to hear it from you.”

Lea kissed his nose and then his forehead, retracing the ugly scar. Though… it was quite beautiful since it was on him. A part of him.

“I’ll come with you. I want to hug you! I want to cuddle you while you’re doing the breakfast.”

“Tempting but you’ve to take care of the children if you’re up.”

“I can do both!” Lea replied. “But first…” He grabbed his waist and overthrew him on the mattress. “I also want to eat you!!”

“Lea!” Isa laughed, passing his arms around his shoulders and kissing him in reply.

He just made him so happy all the time.

After nine years, Traverse Town got used to everything. A tiny town became more and more beautiful, more and more a place where they could live. They were coming from everywhere, from hundred and hundred Worlds and this place became a new Home for everybody. Some children naked here and knew nothing else but this place.

As they were used to this place, some of them grew wealthier.

That’s how Isa had his hand on a piano as a teenager was trying to learn his basics. She was really conscientious, doing her best. And he was guiding her. Severe but fair. It was just very important for her to get the beginning. He learned very early to play piano, with his parents, and that was almost the only thing he still had from them. It was often strange to have started in a very wealthy family to end up struggling to life. Because those lessons he was giving weren’t his sole income. He also worked in a Library in the 7th District. But only at mid-time. He had to be there for the children because Lea couldn’t get a partial-time with the work he had.

He was working for Scrooge McDuck and the Duck expected a lot from his employees!

They couldn’t do more.

The clock, outside, rung.

“I have to go. Do you have any questions?” the man asked, moving back from the Piano.

“No, thank you Sir Turk.”

Isa always had a soft feeling when someone used his last name. Lea’s last name…

“Have a nice day and train.”

“Yes!”

Isa knew he will be paid by the parents of the teenager very soon. And if ever he wasn’t… they would hear him. Which wasn’t a good thing, at all.

From what he knew, it was the only thing that still could make his whole family shiver: his anger.

Isa left the house and walked toward the School in the 6th District.

He liked to come to give his lessons in the 7th and 8th District because he could easily join the School when Lea was always in the 1st District or the 2nd, on rare occasions, to work.

From the moment they had run away from Radiant Garden, staying alive by whatever magic, their love maybe, they only have to play on the adaptation…

Isa’s path led him to that big School where children were gathering every day and receiving a… more or less decent education. People coming from everywhere did they best and if mathematics and sports were the same in each World, almost every other lessons were different. From the language to the believing, without forgetting science. And about Geography and History?! They had just forgotten this part of the teaching. It was too hard to deal with it.

As every day, Isa did his best not to mix with the other parents. He didn’t like them and preferred to be alone, please.

He searched after his two precious child.

You couldn’t miss Roxas with his flamboyant hairs always shaped in such a strange form.

At the moment he noticed the two children coming, holding their hands, as so often. He walked toward them, smiling in that soft way only his family can have.

“Hello,” he said.

They stopped at the same time and watched them. Roxas seemed angry, Xion had tears in her eyes…

“What’s happening?” Isa asked, putting down his knee next to them.

He held out his arms to hug them but Roxas stepped away, bringing Xion with him. Which was extremely surprising to Isa. What was happening there?

“Xion? Roxas?”

The little boy tugged Xion after him and quickly moved aside, bringing his sister with him. Isa had no idea of what was happening and he got up to follow them. Even if the teenager tried to walk quickly, he couldn’t go faster than his papa who had long legs in contrary to him.

Them.

Especially because Xion let herself tug more than actually walking.

She never stopped rubbing her cheeks and eyes.

Isa switched his bag, filled with music sheets mostly, of shoulders and bent to grab the little girl, wanting to ease her pain.

Roxas noticed the gesture and pushed his sister aside.

“Don’t touch her! You’re not our papa!” he claimed.

Looks turned at those words, with horror. Isa clenched his teeth and replied with anger, at the moment people started to wonder what they have to do:

“I’m their papa.”

Well, it wasn’t the best way to look less suspicious of a crowd.

But he was getting worried.

Especially when he saw the two children run away, Xion still crying.

“Where do you can?!” Isa asked immediately.

“Home,” Xion let out in a muffled cry.

Isa felt just a bit eased. He could follow them from far and, at least, they were going home. Well, he really had to follow them from distance because maybe they were lying? He doubted Xion could, honestly but you never knew…

He was perturbed by those words threw at him.

Why would Xion and Roxas think he wasn’t their father?

What the hell happened?

In front of the door, Roxas was trying to enter the house but he just couldn’t. It was locked, obviously.

Xion hiccupped and pushed the door without more success. Yet, she tried again. Once. Twice… and at the third times, it opened. The two children threw at each other a reassured look… until Roxas realized the door got open because Isa turned his key in the lock.

The young boy took Xion’s hand, bringing her inside, to the living room.

Isa entered after them.

“You forgot to take out your vests and shoes,” he warned.

As he removed his boots, he listened, trying to know if they were listening to him or not… This was really weird and he didn’t like that. Maybe Lea could have something from them? He had always been the cool parent. He always supposed he was the one the children preferred and there… for whatever reason, he hoped it.

Maybe they just decided they didn’t like him at all?

Though he didn’t know what he could have done?

This morning had just been like every other one? Yes, he’d been a bit harsh with Roxas because he wanted to finish playing before getting ready for school and they were slightly late so he pressed him much but… was it the reason?

If this was that, this wouldn’t prevent him from being stricter.

In contrary…

But for now, all he could do was preparing them a snack and be sure they were, at least doing their homework…

After a very long day of work, Lea just wanted to do nothing. Just crash in the sofa and do nothing.

This was one of those dreams he would never accomplish.

When he’ll arrive, he will help Isa. Whatever it was with the cleaning, the food or the children. There was always something to do.

He pushed open the door and took out his shoes before opening his arms but…

But, no one?

No children running toward him to hug him? No Isa coming to kiss him tenderly.

“Is there anybody here?!” he asked, frowning.

No reply.

There were vests and shoes in the entry. But no one.

“Isa?!”

Lea left the entry and went to the kitchen, forced passage to go in the living room, though the living room was viewable from the kitchen thanks to a half-wall.

He almost bumped in Isa and let out a relieved sigh as he hugged him tightly.

“Idiot! I thought you had disappeared!”

Isa hugged him back tenderly.

“It’s okay, I’m here…” he replied.

“You’re here. But you don’t look very happy. What is it? Disappointed I’m here?!” Lea forcibly laughed.

Isa looked toward the living room. The two children were sat on the floor next to the coffee table. On it, the remaining of their snack, two glasses of water and their homework they were doing. But they didn’t move away to come see Lea.

This was really, really worrying…

They didn’t even react when he started to prepare handmade hamburgers. They always asked for this and Isa refused, he had hoped this could change their mood but… nothing. They didn’t even ask his help for the homework while it was what they did almost every time.

Isa tugged Lea in the entry, glancing at the children until he couldn’t anymore…

“Something happened at school. I don’t know what.”

“How do you know then?”

“Uh… Roxas said I’m not his papa and Xion never stop crying. They came back alone, though I followed them, and they didn’t reply to me since then…” Isa frowned. “And now, they even don’t come to say ‘hello’ to you?”

“That’s weird, indeed… Let me see that.”

Lea kissed Isa’s lips, hoping just this could ease him, and he walked toward the living room.

“Hey, babies! How have been school?”

Lea landed in the sofa next to them, taking out his vest. Xion started again to rub her cheeks, trying to make the tears vanish. Roxas watched toward him. The man bent to grab Xion and brought him to his lap. She cried even more but threw her arms around him so he caressed her hairs.

“Eh… What’s happening Princess?” he asked softly.

“Why… why you… why you didn’t say it?!” she hiccupped.

“Say what?” Lea asked.

“You’re not our daddy!” Roxas stated with anger. He pointed out to Isa at the entry of the room. “He’s not our papa!”

“What the fucking hell?!”

Isa didn’t even have the strength to tell him to watch his language. He didn’t know what was happening.

If only it was just him.

“Okay, that’s not funny,” Lea said. “Why would you say that? Why would you say that to Isa?!”

Those last words were maybe a bit harsher. But Lea hated when Isa suffered.

He hated, also, when his babies suffered of course. But what else could he do there? His hands were tied.

“At school… we had biology,” Xion said.

Lea watched her. “That’s nice. What nice things did you learn?”

He wanted to know what was happening but he also saw this as a positive sign. If Xion talked to him, it was good, at least…

“They said two men can’t have children together! Did you know that?” Roxas said.

He took Xion’s hand to tug her toward him.

Isa frowned.

“Well… Yes?” Lea replied, surprised. “Why?”

“You lied to us! You aren’t our papa and daddy!!” he protested, tears starting to fill his eyes too.

“But we…”

“It’s true,” Isa said, as he walked toward them.

“Isa?!” Lea protested.

In his arms, Xion cried more.

Isa knelt next to them and he took softly Roxas’ hand.

“It’s true two men can’t have babies together. It’s true in contrary to most of your comrades, there is no genetic linking us.”

At those words, Lea finally understood the problem. A problem he never realized they will face one day. It was so obvious to them that Roxas and Xion would know they have been adopted, saved. First, none of them looked like the other and they were so young in comparison to them. Plus the fact they were two men, yes, so it wasn’t really possible for them to have children.

It was so obvious.

And now he felt so stupid.

“We’re your papa and your daddy because we took care of you since you’re just babies. You weren’t just a few months old when we found you and we took care of you.”

“We gave everything for you because we loved you. With all our Hearts,” Isa said. “There isn’t anything genetic linking us but you’re both our children and we’ll love you till the End of Time,” he swore.

Xion watched him at those words.

She wanted to believe them. She wanted Isa to be their papa. She wanted Lea to be their daddy…

Lea pushed the coffee table with his foot and he slid down on the floor, coming next to them. He passed his arms around, hugging both Xion and Roxas on the same occasion.

“You swear?” Xion asked. “You swear you’re really our papa and daddy?”

“Of course. And if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, they’ll hear me!” Lea swore.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Roxas said. “I just…. I was just afraid. I didn’t want you… to abandon us one day? I thought since you weren’t really…”

“Pff, we’re more than really your parents and in a few years, you’ll be sad we’re your parents!” Lea pointed out with a smirk.

Roxas whipped his tears. “NEVER!!!” he replied with a smile through his sorrow.

Lea smiled and hugging them more, kissing their cheeks, happy to have eased away this sadness and this uncontrollable situation…

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donaldduckau · 6 years ago

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Choice of youth Au

This Au is where Donald has health issues with his body as he raises the kids for few years but can't raise them anymore instead gives them to Gladstone ( blackmails into it ). When he does this he goes to his uncle to convince him to see everyone again even telling him about the already pass curing issues. Scrooge is hesitate on this as but as he hears this,he just thinks of when he lost della and thus makes him use a youth potion that was for himself later on Donald.

Now Donald a five year old that doesn't remember anything but calls scrooge " papa " . When beakley or anyone elses ask where the child called he says " fauntleroy mcduck" and uses he made a clone of himself as to how.

#donald duck #ducktales au #uncle scrooge #ducktales #huey dewey and louie

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callme--starchild · 5 years ago

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Me writing the “Team Uncle Week” final day prompt:

And after so many inconsistencies with aspects of the plot, changing the personality of the characters and making a very strange story, I finally decided to make this week a bizarre alternative universe. XD

Like the @galoots‘ one, but uglier and worse.

I could call him "Papa Scrooge" AU, being that I usually mean Scrooge in that way when he is very affectionate with his nephews, especially with Donald because his little duckling needs it as hell.

#donald duck #scrooge mcduck #i love so much galoots fanfics alright #kinda making my own au #papa scrooge #papa scrooge au #teamuncleweek2019 #publishing them late because college life is difficult

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gottfriedturborabe · 4 years ago

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24. Türchen: Eine Weihnachtsgeschichte

Frei nach Charles Dickens

„Das kann doch nicht sein Gottfried!“ entrüstet sich Enno, „Jetzt hast du uns jeden Sonntag so tolle Geschichten erzählt und heute, an Weihnachten, fällt dir gar nichts ein, wirklich keine einzige Geschichte?“ Enno, Kira und ihr Turborabe sitzen auf dem Boden vor dem wunderschön geschmückten Weihnachtsbaum im Wohnzimmer von Ennos Lehrerin, Frau Winter. Sie kümmert sich rührend um Enno, Kira, und notgedrungen auch um Gottfried, seitdem die drei in Deutschland gelandet sind. Erst in ein paar Stunden, wenn es richtig dunkel ist, dürfen die Kinder ihre Geschenke auspacken.

Um sich die Wartezeit ein wenig zu verkürzen, wollen die Geschwister noch eine letzte Weihnachtsgeschichte von ihrem Turboraben hören. „Ja Gottfried,“ fügt Kira hinzu, „du hast doch so viele Freunde auf der ganzen Welt. Habt ihr euch am Weihnachtsabend denn nie Geschichten erzählt?“ Gottfried überlegt. „Nun ja, wenn ich dich so ansehe, Kira, fällt mir doch was ein. Meine Freundin Annie, eine übrigens sehr elegante Flamingodame aus dem schönen London, hat mir mal in einer Schneesturmwinternacht eine spannende Weihnachtsgeschichte erzählt. Aber ich muss euch warnen, wenn ihr sie wirklich hören wollt, wird es ein wenig gruselig.“

Enno springt auf, rennt zum Lichtschalter und drückt ihn nach unten. Die einzige Beleuchtung sind jetzt die vier Kerzen des Adventskranzes auf Frau Winters Couchtisch und die hellgelbe Lichterkette an ihrem Weihnachtsbaum. Im schummrigen Licht sieht Gottfried mit seinem großen, roten Schnabel für einen Moment fast ein wenig bedrohlich aus. Aber dann zieht er plötzlich eine Schlagsahneflasche unter dem Baum hervor und beginnt, einen Flügel voll Regenwürmer damit zu garnieren. „Gottfried! Weniger essen, mehr erzählen!“ ruft Enno und nimmt seinem Turboraben die Schlagsahne aus der Hand.

„Hey, Essen ist wichtig, Enno!“ protestiert Gottfried.

„Ja, aber Geschichten auch! Wenn du erzählst, tunke ich dir sogar höchstpersönlich die nächsten Regenwürmer in Schlagsahne,“ bietet Enno an.

„Das merke ich mir!“ sagt Gottfried und bringt damit Kira zum Kichern, da er schon etwas verfrüht in seine Märchenerzählstimme verfällt „Los geht’s! Ho, ho, ho!“

„Viele, viele Jahre bevor Annie überhaupt geboren war, hat in ihrem hübschen Reihenhaus in der Doughty Street ein grummeliger alter Mann gewohnt. Kennt ihr diesen Weihnachtsfilm mit dem Grinch?“ Enno und Kira nicken. „Ungefähr so könnt ihr ihn euch vorstellen, nur nicht ganz so grün. Jedenfalls war er auch ein totaler Weihnachtshasser, was er jedem lautstark erzählte. Seine Angestellten bekamen das auch zu spüren, die waren nicht nur unterbezahlt, sondern mussten seine nie endende schlechte Laune ausbaden. Scrooge, so hieß der alte Grießgram, verschwendete keinen müden Cent. Es wurde nie zu viel geheizt oder gekocht und ganz anders als alle anderen Familien in seine Nachbarschaft spendete er nie für Arme und Bedürftige. Doch all das sollte sich eines denkwürdigen Weihnachtsabends ändern. Als er sich in dieser Nacht zum ersten Weihnachtstag schlafen legte und sein Licht ausschaltete, staunte der alte Mann nicht schlecht. In der Ecke seines Zimmers meinte er einen Schatten zu erahnen, der sich immer und immer mehr näherte. Schnell beleuchtete Scrooge sein Zimmer wieder, doch das änderte nichts an den Tatsachen. Dort, in der Ecke des Zimmers, stand ein Mann in einer blau, rot, goldenen Uniform. Es war ein Zinnsoldat, einer der Brüder unseres einbeinigen Freundes, doch dieser Zinnsoldat war für eine Nacht nicht in seiner Form erstarrt, er war aus Fleisch und Blut! Scrooge war gerade dabei, nach seinem Diener zu schreien und diesen Eindringling in hohem Bogen hinauswerfen zulassen, als er plötzlich das Gesicht des Fremden erkannte. Er traute seinen Augen nicht. Wer ihm da entgegenblickte war sein ehemaliger Geschäftspartner. Doch der konnte unmöglich hier sein. Nicht nur war er vor sieben Jahren ans andere Ende der Welt gezogen, er war auch noch im letzten Jahr verstorben! Doch er war es, unverkennbar, noch so jung wie an dem Tag, an dem Scrooge seinen Freund zum letzten Mal sah. Erst jetzt hörte der alte Mann das Geräusch. Es war ein dumpfes Rasseln, das jedem Schritt des schaurigen Geschäftspartners folgte. An seine Beine war eine dicke, rostige Eisenkette gebunden. „Mein Gott, was ist dir passiert?“ fragte Scrooge völlig perplex. „Das hier ist die Konsequenz eines Lebens wie des Unseren. Mit Gier, Hartherzigkeit und Geiz legt man sich selbst in Ketten. Und die wird man nie mehr los.“ Scrooge verfiel in helle Panik. „Gier? Geiz? Das bin doch nicht ich,“ erwiderte der alte Mann, der seinen verstorbenen Freund ratsuchend anblickte. „Das dachte ich auch. Doch sieh, was aus mir geworden ist. Dies ist dein Schicksal, sieh es dir an!“ warnte der Besucher aus dem Jenseits. „Nein! Nein! Das darf nicht passieren!“ rief der alte Mann aus und vergrub panisch das Gesicht in seinem Kissen. „Nun, Schicksale sind nie in Stein gemeißelt,“ antwortete der Geist des Geschäftspartners weise, „willst du deines ändern?“ Scrooge bettelte um eine Chance, die ihm sein ehemaliger Freund versprach, bevor er sich genauso schnell in Luft auflöste, wie er gekommen war.

Am nächsten Abend, als sich der alte Mann zu Bett legte, wurde er von einer lieblichen Melodie geweckt. Es war keine, die er je gehört hatte und doch zog sie ihn geradezu magisch an. Er folgte den Tönen der Musik nach unten in das Wohnzimmer des Reihenhauses. Dort sah er eine kleine, schmale Gestalt, die im spärlichen Licht einer einzigen brennenden Kerze im Takt der Musik Pirouetten drehte. Als Scrooge in der Tür erschien, hielt sie inne. „Bist du bereit, deine Vergangenheit zu erleben?“ fragte die Zuckerfee. „Habe ich das nicht schon?“ fragte Scrooge noch griesgrämig, doch da hatte die kleine Ballerina bereits zur nächsten Pirouette angesetzt. Diesmal riss es nicht nur ihren kleinen Körper von den Beinen, sondern auch den alten Scrooge, das Wohnzimmer und das ganze Haus. Als Scrooges Sicht wieder klar wurde, stand er an exakt derselben Stelle, doch ihm gegenüber war nicht mehr die schöne Fee. Es war ein kleiner Junge, der traurig aus dem Fenster blickte und auf etwas zu warten schien. Hinter ihm und der Fee, die sich an Scrooges Seite gestellt hatte, ertönte plötzlich eine Stimme. „Dein Vater kommt heute nicht mehr, Scrooge,“ sagte ein in ein schwarzes Kleid und eine weiße Schürze gekleidetes Dienstmädchen, „du weißt doch, er feiert kein Weihnachten mehr, seit deine liebe Mama nicht mehr da ist.“ „Es ist aber meine Schuld, dass Mama nicht mehr da ist,“ erwiderte der kleine Junge traurig, „das sagt mir Papa immer wieder.“ „Das ist niemandes Schuld,“ erwiderte das Dienstmädchen, das sich geduldig zu dem kleinen Jungen hinunter beugte, „höchstens die des Schicksals.“ „Aber Schicksale kann man ändern,“ sagte der kleine Junge gerade noch, bevor der Raum erneut begann, zu verschwimmen. Diesmal stand Scrooge in der Werkstatt seines Lehrmeisters, bei dem er viele glückliche Jahre verbracht hatte und der die größten und schönsten Weihnachtsparties mit den besten Insektenplätzchen der Welt zu geben pflegte. Scrooge erkennt die Party sofort. Hier sah er zum ersten Mal seine große Liebe Belle, die er sich nie traute zu heiraten, bis es zu spät war. Er beschließt, die Sache nun wieder gut zu machen. Belle steht am anderen Ende des Raumes und spricht lachend mit einer Freundin. Scrooge ist wild entschlossen, sie zu unterbrechen, doch da beginnt der Raum schon wieder sich zu drehen und mit einem Mal ist Scrooge wieder ein alter Mann und zurück in seinem Bett. „Wieso hast du das getan?“ schnauzt er die Fee an, „ich wollte doch gerade …“

„Du solltest etwas lernen,“ erwiderte die Zuckerfee, „ich hoffe, das hast du.“ Und so schnell wie sie gekommen war, war sie auch wieder verschwunden.

Am nächsten Abend, als sich der alte Mann wieder zu Bett legte, wollte er nichts mehr, als endlich etwas Ruhe zu finden. Doch auch diesmal war ihm diese nicht vergönnt. Der Wind heulte unaufhaltsam und schlug die Äste der Vorgartenlinde gnadenlos gegen das Schlafzimmerfenster des alten Mannes und schließlich warf er sogar das Fenster auf. Unter großem Protest und wilden Flüchen erhob sich der Mann von seinem Bett und lief zum Fenster, doch einmal dort angekommen, traute er sich nicht, es wieder zu schließen. Draußen, mitten im Schneesturm schwebte die ganz in weiß gehüllte Gestalt der Schneekönigin, die ihn mit kalter Miene anstarrte. Anders als auf den kleinen Kai hatte ihr herzerfrierendes Wesen keinerlei Macht über den alten Mann, denn sein Herz war ohnehin schon so starr und kalt als wäre es zu Eis gefroren. „Ich bin der Geist der gegenwärtigen Weihnacht,“ sagte sie mit einer Stimme, die kaum vom Heulen des Windes zu unterscheiden war, und du musst etwas sehen.“ Sie führte ihn in eine kleine, heillos überfüllte Hütte, in der Scrooges Bediensteter mit seiner Familie lebte. Alle seine Kinder rannten wild durch die Wohnung und erfreuten sich an ihren kleinen Weihnachtsgeschenken, nur einer, der kleinste, musste auf dem Sofa sitzen und zusehen, wie seine Geschwister sich vergnügten. Er sah sah so traurig aus dass Scrooge fast, nur für einen Moment, meinte, er könne das Eis um sein Herz schmelzen spüren. Die Schneekönigin verschwand zwischen tausenden tosesenden Schneeflocken und Scrooge fand sich verblüfft in seinem Bett wieder.

Doch der nächste Abend, an dem der alte Mann versuchte, zur Ruhe zu kommen, war der Schlimmste von allen.

Enno und Kira blicken Gottfried mit großen, weiten Augen an. „Warum denn?“ fragt Kira und Enno fordert ungeduldig: „Nun sag schon, Gottfried!“

Nachdem er die Spannung der Kinder einige weitere Momente ausgekostet hat, fährt der Turborabe fort: „In der Ecke seines stockdunklen Zimmers erahnte Scrooge plötzlich eine verhüllte Gestalt mit einem pechschwarzen Umhang. Langsam und mit schleppenden Schritten kam sie ihm näher und auch das Licht von Scrooges Nachtkerze hatte keinerlei Einfluss auf den dunklen Besucher. Der alte Mann fürchtete sich, wie er sich noch nie gefürchtet hatte! Als die Gestalt nah genug war, hob sie zum ersten Mal ihren Kopf. Da erkannte der alte Mann einen chiliroten Turborabenschnabel, der aus der Kapuze des Mantels hervorragte. „Ich bin der Geist der zukünftigen Weihnacht!“ verkündete der weise Turborabe mit erhabener Stimme, „und du kommst jetzt mit.“ Bevor Scrooge überhaupt ein Wort des Protestes äußern konnte, hatte der Rabe seinen Turbodüsenmotor angeworfen und trug den alten Mann in einem so wilden Ritt über die Dächer der Stadt, dass er für einen kurzen Moment ohnmächtig wurde.

„Mensch, Gottfried, jetzt hast du aber wieder geschwindelt,“ sagt Enno mit gerunzelter Stirn. Kira kichert, als Gottfried eine Unschuldsmiene aufsetzt. „Geschwindelt? Ich?“ sagt der Turborabe und schiebt sich genüsslich einen Flügel voll Borkenkäfer in den Schnabel, „Niemals!“

„Auf jeden Fall bist du ein richtiger Großschnabel!“

Da kann Gottfried schlecht widersprechen. Nach einer kurzen Kau-Pause fährt er fort.

„Jedenfalls brachte er den alten Mann diesmal an einen sehr dunklen, kalten Ort. Erst wusste Scrooge gar nicht, wie ihm geschah.“

„Ist das wieder eine Erinnerung? Oder die Gegenwart?“ fragte Scrooge den weisen Turboraben. „Hast du´s nicht kapiert?“ sagte der weise, schwarze Turborabe ernsthaft, „Raben sind magisch. Wir können die Zukunft sehen. Und das hier ist deine, wenn du dein Schicksal nicht änderst.“ Als der Turborabe plötzlich in die Luft flog und eine große Stichflamme mit seinem Düsenmotor erzeugte, erkannte der alte Mann, wo sie waren. Das war ein Friedhof! Und da stand sein Grabstein, mit dem Untertitel: Miesepeter. Und fast noch schlimmer, daneben war der Grabstein des kleinen Tim, der vorher zu schwach gewesen war, um mit seinen Geschwistern zu spielen. Das war der letzte Tropfen, der das steinharte Herz des Scrooge erweichte. „Das darf doch nicht sein! Was ist passiert?“ „Noch ist gar nichts passiert,“ erwiderte der Turborabe und landete neben dem alten Mann auf dem Boden, „Denn ich bin ja der Geist der zukünftigen Weihnacht. Wenn du dein Schicksal änderst, muss das hier niemals passieren.“ So hatte der Turborabe dem alten Mann ein für allemal die Augen geöffnet.

Als Scrooge am nächsten Morgen erwachte, wusste er sofort, was er zu tun hatte. Er verdoppelte das Gehalt aller seiner Angestellten und lud sie zu einem großen Weihnachts-Festmahl in seinem großen Reihenhaus ein. Dort gab es karamellisierte Käfer, in Schlagsahne gebadete Regenwürmer und glasierte Kletterraupen! Sein edler Retter, der Tuborabe, war natürlich auch eingeladen. Nie war ein Weihnachten für Scrooge und seine Familie schöner gewesen. Und all das nur, weil ein weiser, wunderschöner Turborabe es geschafft hatte, dem alten Mann die Augen zu öffnen. Und so lebten alle glücklich bis ans Lebensende, dankten fortan jeden Weihnachtsabend für den rettungsbringenden Turboraben und schenkten ihm ganz viele Regenwürmer mit Schlagsahne.“

„In England haben sie Turboraben?“ fragt Kira skeptisch. Frau Winter, die soeben das Weihnachtszimmer betreten hat, mischt sich ein. „Nein, es gibt natürlich nur einen einzigen Turboraben, Gottfried.“

Glücklicherweise, hätte sie beinahe gesagt, denn Gottfried sorgt in ihrem kleinen Haus immer wieder für ganz schön viel Chaos. Aber an Weihnachten behält sie das für sich. Stattdessen klatscht sie in die Hände.

„Aber Geschenke bekommen sie auch in England. So wie ihr jetzt. Seid ihr bereit?“ Die Geschwister springen auf. Sie können es kaum erwarten. Bei so viel Vorfreude vergessen sie sogar, skeptisch gegenüber Gottfrieds Geschichte zu sein. Und Gottfried vergisst, sich darüber zu beklagen, dass Enno in der Weihnachtshektik komplett vergessen hat, eine neue Schlagsahneflasche für seinen Turboraben zu besorgen. So muss Gottfried eine Weihnachtsdiät machen, aber da er jede Menge Regenwurmplätzchen futtern kann, schmälert das seine Idealfigur nicht.

#weihnachtsgeschichte #kinderweihnacht #kinderbuchautor #adventszeit #adventskalender #kinderbuchverlag #kinderbuch #dickens #a christmas carol

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noel-cerebrer-blog · 7 years ago

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4 manières de célébrer Noël

Noël est l’une de ces fêtes qui semblent répandre la joie et l’émerveillement. Que vous célébriez un Noël séculier ou religieux, avec l’aide de wikiHow, cette journée sera remplie de bonheur. Lisez ces quelques conseils et apprenez à célébrer un Noël séculier, religieux, avec des enfants ou anticonsommations. Joyeuses fêtes ! Répandez la bonne humeur. Lorsque vous entendez des chansons de Noël, au lieu de vous montrer grincheux (vous avez déjà entendu parler de Ebenezer Scrooge ?), souriez et sifflez la mélodie. Être de bonne humeur pendant la période des fêtes vous aidera à répandre l’esprit de Noël à ceux qui vous entourent et vous aidera aussi à profiter davantage de cette période de l’année.

Souhaitez un joyeux Noël à ceux qui célèbrent cette fête. Si vous n’êtes pas sûr que la personne à laquelle vous vous adressez fête Noël, souhaitez-lui de joyeuses fêtes et répandez la joie autour de vous.

Appréciez les traditions de Noël de votre pays. Redevenez un enfant et appréciez l’esprit de Noël. Qu’il s’agisse de laisser un biscuit pour Santa Claus, de tenter d’apercevoir le père Noël par la fenêtre ou de laisser vos sabots près de la cheminée pour Sinterklaas, permettez-vous une petite tradition de Noël et cédez à la magie du moment.

Décorez votre maison pour Noël. Les possibilités de décoration sont sans fin. Installez des guirlandes sur votre maison. Pendez du gui au-dessus de la porte (surtout si vous savez que votre amoureux/se vient vous rendre visite). Accrochez une couronne maison sur votre porte ou disposez de petites figurines du père Noël et de ses rennes sur vos meubles.

Achetez et décorez un sapin de Noël. Rendez-vous avec votre famille chez un producteur de sapins et coupez votre propre arbre ou choisissez un sapin précoupé dans un magasin ou stand spécialisé. Choisissez un sapin selon la taille de votre intérieur. Une fois que vous avez installé votre arbre, décorez-le de guirlandes et autres décorations. N’oubliez pas de l’arroser de temps en temps et de le protéger des animaux de compagnie.

Vous pourriez décorer votre arbre avec des décorations de famille ou essayer quelque chose de nouveau en ornant votre sapin de décorations Star Trek ou de décorations au thème d’un superhéros, de petits trains ou de personnages Disney. Cela ne tient qu’à vous, soyez aussi créatif ou classique que vous le voulez.

Rassemblez vos amis et votre famille. Pour beaucoup de gens, rassembler ses amis et sa famille est un aspect essentiel de Noël, afin de profiter de la compagnie les uns des autres et de célébrer la fête. Noël est dans beaucoup de pays un jour férié et la plupart des gens ne travaillent pas. Profitez-en pour vous rapprocher de votre famille et de vos amis. Créez vos propres traditions ou célébrez Noël avec les traditions de votre famille.

Invitez vos amis ou votre famille à un dîner de Noël. Si vous voulez que la dépense (et la charge de travail) reste raisonnable, demandez à chacun d’amener un plat. L’important est de passer du temps avec les gens que vous aimez et de réchauffer l’hiver en partageant la chaleur d’un bon moment passé ensemble. Songez à préparer un repas de Noël traditionnel, avec une dinde rôtie ou créez vos propres traditions en innovant avec des créations culinaires de votre choix.

Chantez des chants de Noël avec vos amis. Chantez des chants de Noël à plusieurs, dans votre quartier ou chez un ami. Apprenez des chants de Noël ou de saison et chantez ! Ce sera amusant et même si vous n’avez pas une très belle voix, vous ne chanterez pas seul et vos amis les plus talentueux vous couvriront. Si pour une raison ou pour une autre, vous ne pouvez pas chanter de chants de Noël avec vos amis, écoutez de la musique de Noël chez vous, pendant que vous emballez vos cadeaux ou lors d’une fête de Noël.

Vous pourriez par exemple chantonner « Vive le vent », « Petit Papa Noël » ou « Mon beau sapin ».

Regardez des films de Noël. Invitez vos amis ou votre famille à regarder des films de Noël en buvant du cidre chaud et en mangeant du pop-corn ou des biscuits. Regardez des films comme « Rudolphe le renne au nez rouge », « The Grinch », « La vie est belle » ou tout autre film de saison.

Faites un acte généreux. Pour répandre la beauté, l’amour, la gentillesse et la joie lors de la période de Noël, faites preuve de générosité. Vous pourriez faire du volontariat dans un refuge pour sans-abri ou organiser une collecte de jouets ou de nourriture pour des gens qui ont moins que vous.

Emballez vos cadeaux dans du joli papier. Pas besoin de dépenser des fortunes en cadeaux, les petites babioles seront suffisantes. Dans certaines familles, l’on s’offre des cadeaux les uns aux autres, en signe d’amour. Vous pourrez acheter des cadeaux ou les faire vous-même. Apprenez ensuite à emballer joliment vos présents.

Rassemblez votre famille autour du sapin le matin de Noël et échangez les cadeaux. Ou asseyez-vous au coin du feu avec votre partenaire et passez un Noël en amoureux.

Amusez-vous en extérieur avec votre famille. Rendez-vous à la plage ou dans un parc ou dans les régions froides, allez faire de la luge ou faites un bonhomme de neige. S’il n’y a pas de neige, emmitouflez-vous et allez vous promener avec votre famille. Il est toujours bon de sortir de chez soi et de respirer l’air frais.

Si vous vivez dans l’hémisphère sud, vous passerez un Noël au chaud. Vous pourrez alors sortir de chez vous et profiter de la beauté de la nature. Vous pourrez passer une partie de la journée à nager, marcher, vous reposer sur l’herbe ou à jouer à un jeu de ballon. N’oubliez pas votre crème solaire et votre chapeau !

Faites face au grincheux de service. Si quelqu’un dit « Oublions Noël cette année » ou autre remarque négative, dites simplement quelque chose de désarmant comme « Je suis désolé que tu n’apprécies pas cette fête, mais tu es le bienvenu pour passer Noël chez nous si tu n’as nulle part où aller ». Le grincheux pourrait ne pas accepter votre invitation ou il pourrait l’accepter et continuer à faire des remarques désobligeantes. Renvoyez-les aussi gentiment que possible et poursuivez votre célébration, en montrant de la compassion pour ce pauvre rabat-joie.

Réfléchissez à la signification de Noël. Si vous ne la connaissez pas bien, faites des recherches. Dans la Bible, vous trouverez l’histoire de Noël dans les Évangiles selon Luc, Chapitres 1 et 2 et selon Mathieu, Chapitres 1 et 2. Vous pourriez même lire ces passages à voix haute, dans le cadre de votre célébration familiale. Demandez aux membres de votre famille de vous faire part de leurs impressions sur cette histoire et d’en personnaliser leur compréhension.

Parlez régulièrement à vos enfants de la signification de Noël et racontez-leur l’histoire de cette fête. Pour retenir leur attention, trouvez de belles illustrations pour accompagner les histoires de la Bible.

Invitez Dieu à célébrer la journée avec vous. Certaines personnes font cela en assistant à une messe de minuit. D’autres en se réunissant autour du sapin et en invitant silencieusement Dieu à les joindre. Quelle que soit la façon dont vous vous y prenez, pour les chrétiens, donner sa place à Dieu dans cette célébration est essentiel.

Choisissez des activités que vous, vos amis et votre famille apprécierez et qui correspondent à la signification de Noël. Songez à préparer des plats pour les nécessiteux, à rendre visite à des gens qui vivent seuls et n’ont pas de famille ou à rendre visite à des gens malades l’hôpital. Vous pourriez même préparer de petits cadeaux pour les gens qui ne recevront pas grand-chose lors de Noël.

Célébrez la fête en communauté. Réunissez-vous avec votre famille ou vos amis et passez du temps avec des gens qui partagent vos croyances et célébrez ensemble cette journée si spéciale.

Donnez aux autres. Que ce soit à votre famille et vos amis ou aux nécessiteux, à Noël, prenez le temps de donner. Les cadeaux rappellent ceux offerts au Christ par les Rois Mages et nous rappellent également que nous offrons parce que le Christ nous a offert sa vie.

Prenez du temps au calme et soyez reconnaissant de la naissance de Jésus que nous célébrons ce jour-là. Le jour de Noël, les chrétiens célèbrent le plus gros cadeau qu’ils n’aient jamais reçu. Entrer dans la saison de Noël avec reconnaissance est essentiel pour lier l’offrande immense de Jésus aux cadeaux que vous offrez à vos proches.

Créez votre propre scène de la nativité. Créer une scène de la nativité chez vous ou dans votre jardin est une belle façon de célébrer Noël. Si vous avez des enfants, demandez-leur de vous aider. Ils adoreront fabriquer les petits anges et autres figurines.

Si vous ne pouvez créer votre propre crèche, vous pourriez participer à la création de celle de votre école ou de votre église.

Impliquez vos enfants dans vos traditions de famille. Où que vous viviez dans le monde, enseignez les traditions de votre famille à vos enfants dès leur plus jeune âge. La période de Noël est absolument magique pour les petits.

Racontez des histoires de Noël à vos enfants. Vous pourriez leur lire ou raconter des histoires à l’heure du coucher ou regarder avec eux des films de Noël. Vous pourriez aussi vous procurer un livre sur toutes les traditions de Noël du monde. Cela donnera à vos enfants une occasion d’en apprendre davantage sur les traditions d’autres cultures.

Aidez vos enfants à croire au père Noël. Expliquez-leur qui est le père Noël et qu’il va venir chez vous pendant la nuit de Noël. Pour que vos enfants croient vraiment au père Noël, faites-leur placer des biscuits et un verre de lait près du sapin la veille de Noël. Lorsqu’ils sont endormis, mangez les biscuits et laissez quelques miettes et buvez le verre de lait. Si vos enfants laissent un mot pour le père Noël, écrivez-leur un petit mot de remerciements ou répondant à leurs questions de la part du père Noël. Veillez à écrire ce mot avec une écriture différente de votre écriture habituelle.

Vous pourriez aussi laisser des carottes dehors pour les rennes. Demandez à vos enfants de mettre des carottes dehors pour les rennes et pendant qu’ils dorment, grignotez les carottes en laissant quelques morceaux rongés comme preuve du passage des rennes.

Décorez des biscuits de Noël. Préparez une fournée de biscuits au sucre ou de biscuits de pain d’épices et décorez-les avec vos enfants. Vos enfants adoreront peindre leurs biscuits de toutes les couleurs.

Faites décorer le sapin à vos enfants. Une fois que vous avez installé le sapin et les guirlandes lumineuses, rassemblez vos enfants pour décorer l’arbre. Si vos enfants sont très petits, aidez-les en les portant pour qu’ils puissent atteindre les branches les plus hautes. Désignez-leur des décorations spéciales qu’ils pourront placer sur l’arbre.

Montrez à vos enfants comment accrocher leurs chaussettes sur la cheminée. Si cela fait partie de vos traditions, vos enfants adoreront l’anticipation ressentie en accrochant leurs chaussettes près de la cheminée, dans l’attendre du père Noël. Vous pourriez remplir les chaussettes de vos enfants pendant qu’ils dorment, puis les déposer au pied de leurs lits. Le matin venu, demandez à vos enfants d’apporter leurs chaussettes dans votre chambre et vous pourrez ouvrir les cadeaux qu’elles contiennent sur votre lit.

Préférez les traditions et rituels aux cadeaux. Établissez des traditions et rituels de famille honorant l’esprit de Noël et impliquant tous les membres de la famille. Ce pourrait être assister à la messe tous ensemble ou confier la préparation d’un plat à chaque membre de la famille, petits comme grands ou encore écrire des lettres pour exprimer votre gratitude les uns envers les autres quant à des actes de gentillesse de l’année passée. Quel que soit votre rituel (ou ensemble de rituels), insistez sur l’amour et le partage plutôt que sur l’échange de cadeaux matériels.

Évitez de dépenser de l’argent que vous n’avez pas. Ne vous endettez pas pour une fête. Vous n’avez pas à offrir de cadeaux hors de prix. Vous pourriez fabriquer vos cadeaux vous-même. Beaucoup de gens préfèrent recevoir un cadeau fait maison, car le cadeau est alors tout particulièrement attentionné. Donnez selon vos moyens, les gens comprendront et vous donnerez l’exemple en vous libérant de la société de consommation.

Vous pourriez par exemple faire et offrir des marque-pages, des photos de famille encadrées, des biscuits ou des gâteaux de fête ou « kit à biscuits » (la farine, le sucre, la levure, les pépites de chocolat et autres épices sont versés dans un pot en verre, auquel sont attachées les instructions indiquant quels ingrédients ajouter : eau, huile, œufs ou autre).

Apprenez des chants de Noël non commerciaux. Il existe des tas de beaux chants de Noël moins connus que vous pourrez chanter tous ensemble. Peut-être qu’un ami ou un membre de votre famille pourrait vous accompagner au piano ou à la guitare. Songez à des chants comme « Douce nuit » ou « Il est né le divin enfant ». Si vous ne connaissez pas les paroles, recherchez-les sur Internet.

Mettez les publicités en sourdine. Vraiment, empêchez le « achetez ceci, achetez cela » d’envahir votre vie de famille. Si la société de consommation a sa place, ce n’est pas dans votre salon lors d’une fête sacrée. Apprenez aux enfants à ne pas regarder les publicités et faites-en de même. Ou enregistrez vos émissions préférées et passez les pubs. Tout le monde s’en sentira mieux et vous serez bien moins incité à dévaliser les magasins.

N’obéissez pas aux incitations des marques de faire de Noël une célébration du consumérisme, car cela est très éloigné de la signification de cette fête, que vous soyez religieux ou non.

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