#the scrooge above all

[alex31624]

Comic Review: Uncle Scrooge and the Infinity Dime

The Duck Comic Reading Club went mute this week, and since I kinda like talk about one comic per week, is time for the review of Infinity Dime.

I not going to go deep in the cover topic, since that has been discussed enough. And yeah, that cover shouldn't have been published. This is the first comic on this weekly reviews that I physically own, I have the Alex Ross cover, because, how could I not?

The story begins with a Christmas that never was. Donald and the boys were supposed to get together with Scrooge but couldn't make it. That turned Scrooge in a even bitter and angry old man.

This is a What if…? scenario, and I'm on board with that. I like those stories. My favorite is What If… The Punisher's Family had not been Killed in Central Park?

They cut down the phrase for Ducktales '17.

Scrooge loneliness and bitterness consumed him. He knew something was missing. That's when he got a crazy and vicious idea.

And now, this story is going into the multiversal route. Everything has to be like that now.

But, if is fun…

We see then a different Scrooge, who's sees in horror how the entire Bin is being stolen.

At first, he thought it was another Beagle Boys heist, but he eventually found out what we already knew. This is the work of….

I really like the design here. How the Scrooge Above All wears all the dime he had take from all the others Scrooges. Is kinda morbid and tetric in a way.

Scrooge receives the beating of a lifetime and has no other choice but retreat. He now seeks the help of Gyro.

Who looks way to happy.

The babies are there too, and they look adorable.

That freaking guidebook has a section to everything imaginable.

They said the thing.

They think the dime is a universal constant and that's how Scrooge Above All can travel to different universes. But turns out the dime wasn't the constant, it was Scrooge himself. Kinda like Harry Potter being a horrocrux.

Scrooge traveled the multiverse to get himself some help.

Is so funny to see kid Scrooge there.

The Scrooge army beat the hell out of the Beagle Boys. They had the upper hand, until the Scrooge Above All appeared and kicked all their asses.

But the Scrooge army had one more card up their sleeve.

Ok, that hyped me up.

A horde of rage-driving Donalds must be the most scary thing ever.

With the Donalds attacking, the Scrooges turn the things in their favor, retreat the dimes from Scrooge Above All, who lose his magic, and is defeated. Nice and quick.

All the Bins return to their respective Scrooge, and Scrooge Above All learns what was he really missing. His family.

Because, family is the greatest adventure of all.

By the way, is that Webby? It has to, who else would it be? Nice to see her.

It was no masterpiece, or a must-read comic, but I liked it. It was simple and fun. I don't need that much more to have a nice time.

The comic had one more story, Christmas on Bear Mountain. But that's a tale for another day.

[michimonie]

Marvel's Scrooge-Above-All, from the Infinity Dime comic.

Yet another addition to the "Let's make Scrooge a Tumblr Sexyman" campaign.

[usertransducks]

You, too, can do your part in helping me get this man on the Tumblr Sexyman Wiki

you know you want to

[Uncle $crooge and the Infinity Dime spoilers below]

I am once again saying

[thegoodduckfan]

Actually this explains a lot...

Holy shit this story was so awful.

[aaandbackstabbed]

It is so important to me that you all understand how many scars Goldie has.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

words for when your characters get into a fight (pt. 4)

Pain

ache, anesthesia/anaesthesia, distress, harassment, hurt, pinch, strain, suffer, torture, wrong

Attack

aggression, assail, beat up, blast, blind-side, bomb, brutality, charge, come at, coup d’état, embroil, encroach, fire, foray, go for, infest, insurrection, invasion, lay into, mug, occupation, offensive, onslaught, overrun, pillage, pounce, raid, ravage, rush, sortie, subvert, waylay

To destroy

ablate, abolition, annul, batter, bomb, bring down, burst, butcher, clobber, come unglued, consumption, coup de grâce, crumple, cut down, decimate, deforestation, demolition, desecrate, desolate, devastate, dismantle, dispatch, do away with, do in, end, endanger, eradicate, erosion, execute, expunge, exterminate, extinguish, finish, genocide, hara-kiri, homicide, jeopardize, kill, knock off, liquidate, mangle, massacre, murder, obliterate, paralyze, pillage, poison, prostrate, pulverize, put away, put out, quench, raze, ruin, sack, shiver, slaughter, smash, stamp out, subdue, suppress, undo, vandalism, violation, wipe out, wreck

To injure

abuse, ail, batter, beat, bruise, cost, crush, debilitate, deface, deform, desecrate, devastate, disagree, disfigure, expose, fragment, gripe, handicap, hurt, incapacitate, jeopardize, lacerate, maim, mar, mistreat, mutilate, outrage, paralyze, poison, pummel, repay, ruin, sabotage, scar, shatter, shoot, smart, snap, spoil, stress, taint, torture, turn, violate, vitiate, wrong

To make dirty

adulterate, clutter, mess up, smudge, stain, tarnish

To make hot or cold

air, chill, freeze, heat, melt, numb, refrigerate, shrivel, warm

To make wet

absorb, dampen, dip, drench, drool, dunk, extinguish, marinate, oil, permeate, saturate, souse, splash, spray, squirt, submerge

Military action

barrage, blow up, conflict, coup d’état, deploy, deposition, dethrone, disarm, draft, engage, enlist, explosion, incursion, induction, invade, maneuver, occupation, offensive, overthrow, rebellion, revolt, salute, station, volley, warfare

Bad person

accessory, accurser, adversary, aggressor, alarmist, antagonist, ass, assassin, authoritarian, barbarian, bigmouth, bottom feeder, bum, burglar, cad, captive, charlatan, clod, cold fish, conspirator, criminal, crook, culprit, deadbeat, delinquent, demon, derelict, desperado, devil, dirty old man, dolt, do-nothing, dope, dregs, drone, dumbbell, dunce, enemy, espionage, exile, failure, fall guy, femme fatale, fighter, firebrand, fool, fugitive, gangster, glutton, good-for-nothing, gossip, grump, hellion, hobo, hot dog, hypocrite, imbecile, impostor, incubus, insurgent, intruder, Judas, killer, klutz, know-it-all, lawbreaker, lemon, loafer, loser, lummox, mad person, maniac, menace, misanthrope, miser, mole, mountebank, naysayer, ne’ er-do-well, nuisance, nut, ogre, organized crime, parasite, pawn, pessimist, pill, placebo, prodigal, prostitute, psychopath, quack, rascal, renegade, rogue, ruffian, sap, scamp, schlemiel, Scrooge, shirked, shyster, simpleton, skinflint, sleazebag, sneak, sourpuss, spy, swindler, tattletale/tattler, thug, tool, traitor, troll, truant, tyrant, vandal, wanton, whipping boy, wimp, witch

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary Writing Notes: Fight Scenes ⚜ Word Lists: Fight ⚜ Pain

[chewwy-bwossom]

Just realized that MFF last year pulled in THIRTEEN THOUSAND and some odd attendees like holy shit the fandom has exploded in size even since like.... 2016 I feel as if when I was first getting into it, I felt like furry content was still a pretty big niche on the internet but now we're at the point where brands have openly tried to co-opt the fandom as a market to sell to

[llamagoddessofficial]

Since last time I believe we only got the main Trio (Classic, Red and Horror), how about the rest of the Bad Sans crew for mistletoe kisses? (Only if you’re feeling up to it, no pressure at all)

Dust is very logical about it. You'll see mistletoe, and jokingly point out that the two of you are standing under it. When he gives you a somewhat blank stare you shyly explain that it's human tradition to kiss under mistletoe. He thinks for a moment... then shrugs, puts out his cigarette, then pulls you in and kisses you right there. He doesn't care where you are, or who's watching. He's just respecting your human culture, right? If any of the guys are upset at him for making out with you right there they should take it up with culture.

Horror will notice the mistletoe before you do, because he's much more observant than people give him credit for. You'll be able to tell that you're stood under mistletoe together because his whole face will be bright red, and he keeps blatantly staring at you, waiting for you to notice too. If you bring it up he'll blurt out that he's not even bothered, he doesn't care about that kind of stuff, he was just looking, who even follows that tradition anyway haha, You'll have to be the one to initiate because this softspoken giant is talking himself into a stupor. It'll only take one kiss to fluster him back into silence again. But he'll be glowing all day.

Killer would carry around a piece of mistletoe in his pocket. Every time you're looking away, unsuspecting and clueless, he'll steal a kiss from anywhere he can reach. Usually your cheek or hand, but if he's fast enough, maybe your lips. When you turn to look at him in surprise and confusion, he's already using magic to float the mistletoe over both of you - it's tradition, see? The mistletoe is right there. Not his fault. If you want to, you can catch him off guard by getting him under actual mistletoe that he didn't plant, and kissing him first. That'll send him into a complete spiral. Might even get a chance to see his real eyelights~!

Nightmare seems to think it's amusing. He can't help but find this particular tradition very cute. If you point out mistletoe to him, he'll play along, asking if you really want a Christmas kiss from a Scrooge like him... he'll happily give you one if you're up for it. He appears entirely above it all. ... But if you pay attention when he turns away from giving you a kiss, you'll see the little flicker of cyan across his cheekbones. Or even the tiny swirl of lilac in his eye that quickly vanishes. He's always been a romantic, deep down, under all the spooky and intimidation. This particular tradition appeals to all of his hidden cutesy/amorous fantasies. He's going to catch you under the mistletoe any chance he gets.

[ninzied]

a little office christmas au

it’s a monday in the office, which is arguably one of the worst things.

and then, as henry goes to prepare his first cup of tea for the day, he sees the actual worst thing, which is this:

someone has planted a sprig of mistletoe above the doorway to the office breakroom.

this is a problem. the breakroom, firstly, has henry’s favorite water dispenser, which dispenses just the right degree of hot water for his tea.

now he has to use the other, less ideal dispenser because he will not be caught under that door next to someone horrid. hunter, for instance.

or, even worse: his office crush, alex, whom henry has only just recently got up the courage to speak to during lunch breaks, and now he can’t, and now his tea will be all cold.

he wonders who’s responsible for this. whoever it is should consider themselves lucky if henry never finds out.

“did you know,” henry says to pez one day, “mistletoe is actually a parasitic plant?”

“whoa,” says alex, passing by his cubicle. “who are you, scrooge?” he laughs his easy, beautiful laugh as he walks away.

henry rather wishes he could fling himself into the nearest paper shredder.

he knows it wasn’t pez’s doing; it’s exactly the sort of thing pez would proudly admit to if he could.

perhaps it was hunter? the thought is a bleak one.

but then henry spots nora and june putting the mistletoe to good use, which, good for them, and which solves that mystery, henry supposes.

one day henry has to double back to the office. he’s left his keys. he expects the place will empty.

except that it’s not, because alex is there. he’s taking the mistletoe down. he looks strangely crestfallen.

“what are you doing?” henry demands before alex can toss it in with the rubbish.

alex glances up, caught.

“it was you?” henry asks. “you’re the one who put up the mistletoe?”

“it was wishful thinking on my part anyway,” says alex.

“what do you mean?”

“you called it a parasite,” alex reminds him. “and”—he looks downcast—“you started making your tea somewhere else, so.”

“oh,” says henry, rather lightheaded. “oh.”

.

alex is still holding the mistletoe when they kiss for the first time. he drops it, forgotten.

henry keeps it at his desk now. he drinks his tea, which is perfect, and smiles every time alex swoops by his cubicle to sneak in another kiss.

[esouliie]

DECEMBER MIRACLE

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary | wanda buys you a puppy for christmas

tags | a short christmas drabble yay, fluff and cutesy things bc we deserve more of this, lowkey inspired by lady and the tramp!

notes | i’ve always wanted a puppy for christmas and i can 100% confirm wanda is the type of wife to convince you to not get one bc she wants to surprise you! #lovemyevilwife :3

The air is crisp with the scent of pine needles and cinnamon, the fireplace crackling softly in the corner of your cozy new living room. It’s your first Christmas as a married couple, as the Maximoffs, and the house you moved into over the summer is finally starting to feel like home. The walls are adorned with twinkling lights, the first presents stacked gracefully along the fireplace, and the tree glows warmly in the corner, bedecked with ornaments you’ve both collected over the years.

Wanda has been running around all morning, fussing over every little detail for the holiday party. She’s been uncharacteristically anxious about hosting, insisting that everything must be perfect for your first big event as a married couple. You didn’t understand considering you guys had been hosting Christmas in your shared apartment in the Tower for years now without a fuss. But despite her nerves, you can see the joy in her movements. She hums softly to herself as she adjusts the table settings, her cheeks rosy from the cold weather and holiday cheer.

Nobody loved Christmas more than Wanda.

For weeks, you’ve been teasing her about what she might have gotten you for the holiday. Wanda is notoriously — and frustratingly — good at keeping secrets, which only makes your curiosity worse. She’s batted away your questions with a smirk every time, reminding you to "wait and see." But there’s something else you’ve been pestering her about for months now—a dog. Not just any dog, but a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, just like the one you had as a child. You’ve spent hours showing her pictures, telling her stories about your old dog, Marley, explaining how much it would mean to you. She lived a long, happy life, passing away in her sleep just before Christmas a few years ago. Every time, Wanda has firmly said no, listing all the reasons why it’s not a good idea. “We’re still settling into the house,” she’d said, her tone patient but firm. “A dog is a lot of responsibility and we’d have to train it, walk it, make sure it doesn’t chew on the furniture,” or, “we’re already busy with work,” she’d added another time. “We travel so much, it wouldn’t be fair to the poor thing. Who’s going to take care of it when we’re gone?” You’d groaned dramatically each time, accusing her of being worse than Scrooge and The Grinch combined. But deep down, you understood her concerns. You didn’t want to push too hard—mostly because you knew Wanda’s stubbornness was unshakable once she’d made up her mind.

By the time the Avengers start trickling into your home that afternoon, the excitement of hosting had distracted you from mourning your puppy dreams. Natasha is the first to arrive, punctual as ever. She steps inside, a bottle of wine in one hand, gifts in the other which she had rushed to put down under the tree, before pulling you into a quick, warm hug. “You two have really outdone yourselves,” she says, glancing around at the decorations. Her gaze lingers on the stockings hung above the fireplace, each bearing the embroidered name of an Avenger that Wanda had made many years ago. “We had to,” you reply with a laugh. “First Christmas in the new house. It’s all about setting the tone dude.” She scoffs, unwrapping her scarf from her neck. “Yeah well leave it to you two to make the rest of us look bad,” she adds, before handing the wine over to Wanda.”

In all honesty, you’d spent weeks decorating—Wanda with her meticulous approach and you with your love for the slightly over-the-top and ability to do whatever your wife wants. Your pièce de résistance sits proudly on the dining table: a centrepiece you’d made yourself years ago, which had endured years of abuse from being hastily stuffed into storage. For some reason, you attempted to fix it this week, adamant it must be apart of the Christmas display.

“Nice touch with the themed centrepiece by the way.” Natasha nods towards the table. You don’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. “Oh shut up! I worked really hard on that!”

You shove her in the direction of the kitchen, “Tell her Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence from your wife, who was arranging appetisers. Then, in her deadpan voice, she replies, “Yes, she worked really hard on it.”

It didn’t help.

Natasha erupts into laughter, glancing back at you while Wanda stifled a smile. “You are both rude!” You exclaim dramatically, stomping off toward the door as more guests arrived.

The banter continues as more of your friends showed, each one laden with infamous dishes, gifts, or, in Tony’s case, stories that have grown increasingly exaggerated since you moved out of his Tower. You could tell the old man missed you. He had always been like a father to you. The house was buzzing with life, laughter, and the sound of clinking glasses.

Within the hour, the party was in full swing.

It’s mid-afternoon, almost evening, when the doorbell rings again. You had somehow lost Wanda and Natasha in the midst of the chaos, balancing a plate of cookies as you step around Thor currently arm wrestling Tony with the glove of his suit on, when Yelena calls out, “I’ve got it!” She opens the door, immediately letting all the cold air in as she swings it fully open. “Oh my God,” you hear her say, her voice uncharacteristically soft, before she explodes, “What did you do?!” You turn, curious at all the commotion, and then freeze. Standing in the doorway is Nat, holding the tiniest Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy with a big red bow tied neatly around its neck. The puppy is wriggling excitedly in her arms, its big brown eyes scanning the blonde Russian, as it shook of the light dusting of snow that had fell on its coat.

“Nat,” you gasp, your eyes wide as you made you way over. “Did you—did you get this for me?” She shakes her head, her smirk deepened at your expression. “Not me,” she says, holding the puppy out to Yelena, all the while side stepping into the house, revealing your wife stood sheepishly behind her. “This is all Wanda.”

You whip back around to look at your wife, who’s standing before you, her hands nervously twirling her rings. Her lips curve into a small, shy smile, and she shrugs. “Merry Christmas, darling,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the light buzz of the party. Your eyes fill with tears as you take the puppy from Yelena, her tiny body warm and wiggly against you. “Wands,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I thought you said—”

“I know what I said,” she interrupts, walking closer to you. “But I’ve seen how much you wanted this, how happy it would make you. And... I wanted to give you that happiness.” She reaches out to scratch behind the puppy’s ears, her green eyes gentle as they flicker between you both. “I may have gone overboard with the excuses but that was only to throw you off our scent,” she admits. “Nat helped me find her. We’ve been planning this for months.”

The tears spill over as you wrap your free arm around Wanda, pulling her into a tight hug. “I can’t believe you did this.” You murmur into her damp hair. “You bloody witch!”

You both share a laugh before she replies, “I’d do anything for you, love. And her now, I guess.” The puppy lets out a soft yip, wriggling once again in your arms, and you both giggle. Wanda leans in to kiss you, her lips cold and tingling against yours. “You know, you’re going to be the best dog mom.”

“No, we’re going to be the best dog moms.” You reply, pulling her through the threshold.

Wanda closes the door behind you as you practically ran into the living room. “Everybody look! Wanda finally made me a mommy!” You joke, lifting the tiny puppy high enough for everybody to see. The room erupts into cheers and laughter as the Avengers take turns fawning over the puppy. Tony is the first to chime in, of course; “I give it two weeks before that thing destroys your furniture. Three if you’re lucky.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Pepper coos, leaning down to pet the puppy. “She’s adorable. What’s her name?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit, looking at Wanda. “We haven’t decided.”

“We haven’t?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, obviously teasing. “I thought this was your Christmas miracle. Naming her is your job.”

You cradle the puppy close, overwhelmed with joy. “Hmm she looks like a… Sadie.”

“Sadie it is,” Tony says, scratching behind the puppy’s ears. “A very fitting name for the newest member of the team.”

Thor, ever the dramatic, raises his glass. “A toast! To Sadie, the cutest yet fiercest warrior of all Cavaliers, and to the greatest union of Midgardian love I have ever seen!” The group echoes his toast with playful enthusiasm, clinking glasses and adding their own dramatic declarations. You roll your eyes but can’t suppress your laughter as Sadie barks, seemingly agreeing with the sentiment. Amid the noise, Wanda moves closer, her hand brushing your arm. You turn to her, and the world seems to quiet. Her eyes are fixed on you—on the way your face lights up as you cradle Sadie your chest, on the soft laugh that escapes your lips when she licks at your nose.

“I love you,” she murmurs, so softly that only you can hear it. Your eyes meets hers, and you know she’s not just talking about today. You see it in the way Wanda loves all of you—your quirks, your persistence, your endless enthusiasm for life. The way she wants to give you everything, even the things she swore she wouldn’t, everything and more. “I love you,” you whisper back, leaning in to kiss her.

As the night goes on, and the party has fizzled out, you catch Wanda watching as you dote on Sadie on the floor. Her red bow had been replaced by a pink collar Wanda had stuffed into one of your gifts from under the tree. When you finally sit on the couch, bringing along little Sadie who’s managed to work her way into your wife’s lap, she finally leans in and whispers, “Best Christmas ever, right?”

You beam from ear to ear, tears stinging your eyes, as you take in the sight of your little family— of your true Christmas miracle.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

[ravencromwell]

Rereading Dickens Christmas Carol for the first time in a long time. And the more I reread, the more it strikes me how seamlessly a queer reading could slip within these pages. Not an especially twee reading, wherein all Scrooge's troubles start and end with grief over Jacob Marley's death. For we know that Scrooge was a "Tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!" And we know that he and Marley were "two kindred spirits"

And perhaps that very fact makes the similarities to queer life, unintended as they most likely were by Mr. Dickens, achingly poignant to me. Scrooge is, we're told, "secret and self-contained and solitary as an oyster." How much that resonates, for so many of us who shield our innermost selves but from a select group of friends. And we know that Scrooge and Marley were, at the very least, certainly that for one another. Scrooge is Marley's sole mourner; his sole executor and beneficiary; and even Dickens notes, "friend." How reminiscent is that of queer couples across history, estranged from their families?

Scrooge lives in a set of chambers that once belonged to Marley—clearly Dickens wanted us to believe Scrooge gave up his own dwellings after Marley's death to economize. But with only a flicker of change, those chambers become _their chambers, rented by Marley as the senior member of the couple. The place is so desolate Dickens notes "one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again." The perfect abode for two queer misers who wanted no one prying into their business.

Marley's name is still above the door of Scrooge's counting-house: a mark by which, no doubt, Dickens meant to convey Scrooge such a penny-pincher he couldn't bother to have it changed. But a thing can be both! mark of frugality to ludicrous excess and! mark of mourning. "sometimes," Dickens opines, "People new to the

business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him."

This is why "death of the author" matters so much, in expanding our interpretations of texts. It is vastly far from the lens Dickens would have intended. But, the idea of a ghost of queerness, so taboo in the society it could barely be glanced at sidewise in this tale that is all about the inexplicable and yet that lingers over everything becomes an astonishing lens through which to read this book. Thinking of Scrooge as a queer man, his "melancholy dinner at his usual melancholy tavern" becomes a eerie prefiguring of the hollowness of days spent by Isherwood's A Single Man. In this universe, little wonder Scrooge doubly hates mention of time with family, marriage, etc. when the precise nature of his grief is both unacknowledged and unacknowledgable.

And readings like this are vital, because the uncomfortable truth is, discrimination doesn't "discriminate between sinners and saints", to borrow a Miranda phrase. It is easy, in my liberal circles, to fight for queer people who hold "the good sorts of politics". But what about men like Michael Hess, culpable for supporting Reagan even as his contemptuous homophobia let the aids epidemic run rampant? How much harder is it to remember Michael had a partner? That he deserves empathy and compassion for being practically tarred and feathered out of the party upon his own aids diagnosis?

Expanding our imaginative universes to include queerness, not as redemptive panacea, but merely as one aspect of identity, personality, often in vicious conflict with others. Even! as we consider those stories equally worthy of being told feels vital if we're ever to truly express the complexity of what queer humanity looks like.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hi doll congrats on 6k! What about "oh don't be such a scrooge" "i knew you were going to say that." With Sirius???

A little suggestive: Sirius leaves some hickeys, and reader is semi nude

“Oh don’t be such a Scrooge!” Sirius moans when you shut down his idea.

There’s a holiday party one of his friends from work is throwing and Sirius wants you to go as a sexy Mrs. Clause to his Santa- or Martha May Whovier, depends on how you look at it.

You’re not opposed to the idea, you just don’t want Sirius to wear the white beard he’s insisting on.

“I knew you were going to say that.” You flip back onto the bed and kick the white beard from his hands. “I’m not kissing you if you wear that thing.”

“Where’s your Christmas spirit, poppet?”

You squint, Sirius has the best puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, but you know how to placate your boyfriend.

“It’s all here,” you gesture to your white thermal tights that’s covered with stockings that have snowflakes on them. “The beard is a big no, Siri.” You’re not above using seduction tactics, so your ankle drapes near his hip and you pout just so. “Especially if you want kisses.”

Sirius groans and tosses it to the side, your please giggle making him bury his face in your chest.

“You’re such a vixen,” his breath is warm against the exposed skin of your boobs, goosebumps erupting across your chest. “You just get whatever you want, such a spoilt brat.”

He says that like he’s not the reason you’re spoilt rotten and as though he doesn’t enjoy spoiling you.

You squeal when you feel Sirius’ teeth bite near your nipple through your bra. You feel a kiss cover it shortly after.

“Siri!” You roll out from under him. You tug his hair and he raises his head, faux glare in full effect.

“Help me zip up my dress and I’ll make you a love stricken Santa with red lipstick.”

He’s never moved faster in his life, although when you go to apply your makeup you don’t miss the hickeys he’s sucked right at the swell of your breasts- you hardly mind.

[michimonie]

A thing I drew recently based on one of the outfits Scrooge-above-all wore in Infinity Dime. Looking adorable. Maybe I'll paint it in the future?

More for the "Make him a Tumblr-sexyman" pile.

[usertransducks]

The post has been updated!

Alright thoughts about Infinity Dime time (I didn’t really like it):

I already had a suspicion that it was going to be a poorly paced mess that mostly focused on fighting but I still held out some hope since people were assuring me that Marvel could still write good comics that focused on characters.

Unfortunately they did not account for them try to fit multiple issues worth of plot in a single issue.

Anything that may have been interesting, such as meeting with other Scrooges and convincing them to team up, wasn’t present and instead they would time-skip around to get to the combat. Many attempts clearly didn’t work, as there were noticeably more Donalds than Scrooges, and I would have liked to see a defeated Scrooge accept the dime as gone or a world where HDL wasn’t there to save Scrooge like they were in our main one. (I knew they wouldn’t give me that though.)

Speaking of Donald, what in the one-note character was that? They set up the comic having Donald not making it to Bear Mountain as the change that lead to Scrooge-Above-All becoming an even more bitter old man and in another time skip apparently his Donald and HDL are what helped him become a better person, but all we see of Donald plot-wise is:

Donald making the wrong turn (2 panels)

The Donalds angrily fighting the Beagle Boys after the Gyros “[…] had them working on their cars […]” so they’d “[…bonk] themselves with wrenches for hours […]” (2 panels)

A bunch more of the Donalds at the post-timeskip Christmas Party where the ending gag is they all fight each other (2 panels and a full-page)

The only Donalds shown that aren’t in the process of fighting someone is a Donald sitting with Medieval Gladstone and different Donald talking with a different Gladstone in the same panel that I didn’t even see until I was cropping the panel.

Now I can hear the “This is an Uncle Scrooge comic, not a Donald Duck comic” argument from a mile away, but for a comic showing that being with Donald and HDL is what’s stopping Scrooge from becoming a major villain they sure do ignore why that is.

I will say one thing though, Scrooge-Above-All having magic he stole from multiple Magicas is cool, even though I would have liked to see him try to steal magic from our Magica instead of him just using it with no reaction from the other Scrooges.

Anyways uhhhh read the non-Marvel Duckverse comics

————

The edit you’ve all been waiting for:

The Beagle Boy Problem

Its very clear that there were only two reasons the Beagle Boys were in this comic:

Nostalgia

To give Scrooge-Above-All the closest they could get to “the villain’s mindless goons”

I wholeheartedly believe you could take them out of this comic and replace them with any old goon and it would change nothing. There is no explanation for why Scrooge-Above-All is hiring Beagle Boys from every universe and no explanation tor why they’re agreeing. We can theorize from this page:

that Scrooge-Above-All may have promised all the different Beagles that they could have free reign over his Duckburg in exchange for their services, but I only come to that conclusion because of the 3 Beagle Boys who look different from the others in the second panel. Without them I would have just assumed that his Beagles just terrorized his Duckburg because there was no one actively stopping them.

Also this:

is the last we see of them. There isn’t even a small panel of all the defeated Beagle Boys being lead to their different universes. They’re just… removed from the plot.

Also, going back to the Scrooges thing, look at how many more there are in this final page:

Where were they? Why didn’t they help? Why were they invited to this Christmas party? Did Scrooge-Above-All just invite every Scrooge he stole from and didn’t kill? I need answers.

Now for what you’re really here for:

Gladstone Count: 3

Fethry Count: 1

[tossawary]

I don't have a solid plot attached to this idea, I don't currently really have the desire to drop everything to go write "The Hobbit" fanfiction, but for a while I've had the idea of *gestures vaguely" some post-canon story (probably some form of fix-it) taking place before, during, and after a grand dwarven opera performance in Erebor.

Because I am absolutely certain that the Lonely Mountain had an absolutely stunningly beautiful Royal Opera House (and plenty of other, less grand performance halls) that, at the city's height, was putting at least one show every single day. Orchestral symphonies, operas and operettas, dramatic plays, dance performances... you name it, they had it and more. The various cultures of Middle Earth evidently ADORE music, dwarves absolutely included. The Company all bring instruments to Bag End to play and sing themselves off before their quest!

Also, beyond the music side of things, with how dwarves are named as master crafters? Smiths and toymakers and magicians? No way that they did not have some of the most gorgeous costumes, sets, and effects on the planet. Dwarves would go WILD with their articulated stage puppets, I know it.

One of my biggest issues with the film trilogy is that it failed to deeply explore the Company as people who had lost their home, beauty and culture included. Smaug not only killed countless people, entire families, and leave many of the survivors poor and desperate, the dragon went on to hoard their heirlooms and life's work and leave these priceless gold treasures UNUSED. It is an additional heartbreak to imagine Smaug tearing through Erebor neighborhood by neighborhood, house by house, so that he could tear out every gemstone in, say, mosaic made by someone's grandmother that sat above the breakfast table every morning. To think that Smaug in the aftermath tore magical lanterns off the walls, the sort that might have been decorated with animals or flowers, to make some daycare walkway just a little more cheery for the children, and in his greed left a dead city in the dark.

The live-action movies put both Smaug and the Balrog in these... absolutely enormous chambers that serve somewhat unclear purposes. The king's treasure vault and a former marketplace, I think? (Moria has been raised by goblins, I can forgive the emptiness.) It's a quick visual depiction of Thror's uncontrollable gold lust to give him a Scrooge McDuck room, sure, instead of anything with an actual organizational system (normally, I assume dwarves are big on sorting their vaults if they have one). Super big columns and hallways and staircases do somewhat effectively communicate the "lost glory" of Moria (I am very fond of these movies!!!), even if I also think it's not as interesting as it could have been. And the other obvious purpose of big, open warehouse-like spaces is 1) it's easier to animate the big creatures moving around in them generally and 2) it allows the films to show off the full-bodied visual spectacle of their big creatures.

But I think it would have also kicked ass to put Smaug in Erebor's former Royal Opera House or something, some enormous theatre decorated across generations. That could be big! The ART (statues, fountains, banners, windows, general architecture) that you could put on the exterior, which has had its face ripped open for the dragon to get inside? The ART that you could put INSIDE (mosaics, murals, and more) as Bilbo sneaks inside? Ohhh, you could include so many potential lore references with thematic relevance!

Also, Bilbo could get jump-scared by old articulated stage puppets or something. IT'S THE DRAGON-! Oh, no, it's some old opera prop. (Yes, we're talking more about an actual adaptation of "The Hobbit" rather than fanfiction concepts now.)

Sure, there's raw material treasure and coins hoarded here in this place, but there would also be musical instruments and toys and household tools and cookware and fancy dishes, wedding jewelry and anniversary gifts and family shrines and festival costumes, fountain statues and street lamps and mailboxes and business signs, and other evidence that people really LIVED here. These are all ordinary objects that Bilbo recognizes from the Shire.

We could tie these objects directly back to objects we saw featured in Bilbo's home early in this adaptation, which he was trying to "protect" from the dwarves during their "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates" song. There are half-burned portraits of people's late parents here too. Did he think that there weren't any dwarves who made doilies or handkerchiefs embroidered with flowers? Of course they made things like that too.

It's perfectly symbolic to, say, place Smaug's bed in an area like the king's throne room. The dragon is now the King Under The Mountain. But I think it would be deliciously haunting to have the throne room of Erebor be empty, the throne half-broken, the silver stripped from the walls and moved elsewhere, because Smaug doesn't care about Thror's old audience chamber. What's a dwarf king to a dragon? He burns the same as all the others. The dragon has instead made his bed in a beautiful public place of art and culture that was for the people, by the people, surrounded by the lovingly crafted belongings of the ordinary people he killed. Gold is gold to a dragon whether it's in a coin or a candlestick.

I think if you really want to sell one of the key messages of "The Hobbit", which in my opinion is: "If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." then you ought to throw yourself behind EREBOR being a place where food and cheer and song had value, not just the Shire. Thorin isn't lost at the end because he's a dwarf and dwarves don't value such things, but because he as a specific person who makes the mistake of weighing pride and gold over people, and he comes to regret that on his deathbed.

So, back to the fanfiction idea, I think that Erebor had music again in it as soon as dwarves started living in it again. It will take decades and decades before the Royal Opera House is half as splendid as it was before, and there is a performance there with beautiful costumes and puppets and sets comparable to those that came before, some traditional historical show that is part of specific seasonal holiday for dwarves. But that very first winter, when the future still looked grim, I think the dwarves cleared out a small stage and cast the roles of this traditional musical retelling of their history among them, based on who knew the parts best, because they aren't just miners and smiths and soldiers, and there was music again in Erebor that winter despite all the damage that the dragon did.

[magicvicky1]

“No one has had ever opposed to us in such bold way like you did. You have truly captivated me~”

“Wait what?!”

So…How do I explain this? XD it’s an idea that has been haunting my mind for a good while now: Basically, Poe manages to turn back to normal but instead of feeling an immense hate towards Scrooge…he falls madly in love for ^^^reasons in the translation above. I know it’s pretty silly, but I just thought it would be funny for Scrooge to have an enemies-to-lovers ship with Poe, previously a funny talking raven turned into a Tumblr Sexy Man, of all people. And considering that there’s already a ship between Scrooge and Magica, then why not do it with her brother too? xd

Speaking of her, I’ve made this other drawing of her reaction to that scene:

“Years looking for him to turn him back to normal only for this to happen…?!”