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#last boss deserves merry the dog
apprenticestanheight · 4 months
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THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY FOUR
Christmas Eve- Mike Schmidt x gn! reader
ALLLLLL RIGHT! Merry christmas eve to those who celebrate and happy sunday to everyone who doesn't! I do celebrate, however, and I also absolutely adore mike schmidt despite how minimally I've written for him, so I decided to compensate with a little bit of christmastime smut.
This fic, if it's not already obvious, is for audiences of 18+. Minors go away pls, I have a couple of fics in other genres for mike and do not want you here for this one.
Fic type - this is a little bit of fluff because it feels like most of my fics for this event have had angst undertones! I wanted to change it up a bit and mike deserves a bit of fluff so I went with that!
Warnings - body worship is very much implied, being coerced into sex is mentioned once
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December had never really been an easy month in Mikes life. Christmas always ached without his brother around, hurt all the more after his mothers death and hurt his wallet when Abby started getting old enough to remember the gifts she got, but then you came around when Mike was twenty five and you were twenty four and two years out from finishing your masters degree in journalism.
Ever since you'd come along, in the five years since that fateful day at a job where Mike had, amazingly, managed to last six months, things had felt distinctly easier for him.
They were easy enough that, when his father asked to have Abby over through Christmas Eve and some of Christmas Day, after he'd asked Abby if she wanted to, he'd told his father yes.
They were easy enough that smiles came easily to his face and he stopped worrying about cutting costs where he could in the lead up to Christmas shopping, though he still did cut costs somewhat so as to make sure you got a gift that was more than just a bottle of the cologne he used because you adored the way he smelled.
Decembers had become so easy that the tension in his shoulders that always arised within that month had not come since he was twenty six, you'd been living together for six months, and it was your first Christmas together.
However, at twenty-nine and thirty, you're experiencing your first Christmas as a couple without a child in your vicinity, and Christmas Eve takes on a surprisingly normal tone.
Mike goes to work because his boss needs him there and he could use the time and a half. You stay at home, tidy up the living room and then the kitchen and then the bedroom that you share.
You make a list of things that are needed around the house and then go to whatever Christmas markets are open in New Orleans, nipping into one of the open charity shops and grabbing a copy of Stephen Kings novel "Cujo" before you're heading to the animal shelter to help out for an hour.
Once home, you take a second to make sure the tree still looks decent before you head to your bedroom and slip out of the clothes that you'd chosen to wear--a white cable knit sweater and a pair of wide legged jeans with the solovairs that you'd bought on a whim three years prior and had adored ever since--and into clothes that you steal straight from the source. The top left and right drawers of Mikes dresser.
You steal a pair of his boxers and one of the baggier shirts that he owns, surprised to find it's a little baggy on you as well, and settle into bed for the remainder of the day, content to spend your Christmas Eve evening just relaxing with your book and whatever episode of whichever sitcom decides to grace your television screen.
Mike comes home at something like seven thirty, grinning when he sees the state you're in.
"Ordered Chinese," he says. "The restaurant was pretty full when I went but I was told it'd be free if it was delivered more than an hour after I ordered it, so we have a bit of time to waste. Is your book good?"
"Dog with rabies," you shrug. "It's--it's Cujo. Would've read something like A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens but if I'm honest, I am in fact so vain that I chose not to grab it from the charity shop I visited after running errands at the Christmas markets that were open today based on the fact that the cover was ugly."
Mike laughs. "The cover of Cujo aint much better, baby,"
"This is a first edition, thank you very much," you let a bit of sarcasm drip through your tone before you can help yourself, which is something Mike has always liked about you. He's found, in recent, that optimism is indeed nice but sarcasm where applicable will always take the cake. "If it's ever worth much, it could buy us lunch or maybe a week of groceries."
"So you don't like it, then?"
You shrug. Mike sits on the bed. "Dog with rabies," you murmur, setting the book to your right as Mikes hands find your hips. Yours find his shoulders and when you kiss, it's so full of love that it's almost unimaginable. Your kisses have always been that way, always good, never anything less than that. When you kiss Mike, you do it knowing he loves you deeply and that you love him much the same.
When he pulls away, he's looking at you with the same look he always gives you whenever all he wants is to feel you pressed against him, feel his lips against your own, his hands on your hips as he thrusts inside you and encourages you with enough praise to make you boil.
"We've got the house to ourselves," he murmurs against your lips. One of your hands goes to his hair. "I did spoil you with what I grabbed this year, sure, but I got a Christmas bonus. Plus, it's been so long since we've had the time, baby."
You pull him into another kiss and Mike laughs contentedly into it. He leans into you, hands slipping under the shirt you'd stolen from him.
"I love you," he murmurs, lips moving away from yours to press kisses across your jawline and down your neck. "I love your thighs, baby, and your arms, and your stomach, and your stretch marks."
You adjust your neck, turning it slightly to allow him better access. "I love your voice, I love your hands, I love the way that you look in one of my shirts. I love you so, so much, Y/N."
You let him break the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room knowing he'll relocate it later.
You realize, really quickly, why Mike is being so sweet.
It's not to sweeten the deal or to try to coerce you into sex--Mike isn't that kind of person. He's made it clear time and time again that either both of you want it or neither of you do--but because he knows how work has been for you.
Work has been terrible. You've been getting a couple of good stories--including one about a run down pizzeria with too many animatronics to count--and it's gotten really competitive with the holidays.
But your news station would be closed until the 31st, and you didn't need to worry about competing with your coworkers anymore. And Mike knew that, but still, he was being sweet because he knew you needed him to be. You needed praise and a bit of extra attention, so he would provide you with both.
You lay down on the bed and let Mike kiss you all over, taking his time with you like he would've early on in your relationship. When he takes off the boxers you'd stolen he laughs, kisses your hip and calls you a thief of amazingly ethereal proportions.
You let yourself get lost in how good his touches, his kisses and his sweet nothings feel, moan when he starts doing all the things that drive you insane and love him for moaning at the way that you scratch his back, breaking the skin but not drawing blood.
And then you're fumbling for a condom, kissing Mike deeply as you roll it onto his length, pulling him as close as he can be as he bottoms out in you and waits for you to adjust.
"You're amazing," he says when he starts thrusting. "You're so good to me, Y/N. I don't deserve you, yeah? I don't deserve someone who treats me this good."
"You do," you're shocked that you're able to speak, so blissed out from the way that he feels. "You deserve me, Mikey. Please don't think otherwise. Love you so much, Mike. Wanna make sure you know that while you treat me like I'm some kind of a god."
Mike laughs, quickens his pace just enough. "You might as well be," he says teasingly, pressing a quick peck to your lips.
You're coming around him within minutes of the continued praise and the way that he holds you, and your release triggers his. You both moan out, and while you lay still, staring at the ceiling, Mike throws the condom away.
You go and pee to avoid a UTI, start up a shower. You and Mike shower together, holding onto each other tightly and lovingly while you talk about how much driving you'll have to do tomorrow, make jokes at one anothers expenses and share kisses while you wait for the conditioner to set.
All in all, it's the perfect end to a perfect Christmas Eve.
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a-simp-20 · 3 years
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Happy 30th birthday to Shuntaro Yanagi!!! 🥰
In my county its already May 16th!
So,why not celebrate last boss' 30th birthday???
Is this 30 year old Man hot?..yes yes he is 😌✨
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theincuhusbands · 3 years
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Christmas Decorating - (Sam x Reader)
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Summary - When the boys and Y/N finally get around to decorating for Christmas this year, nothing will stop Y/N and Sam having some Christmas fun!
Warnings - LONG, Kissing, Snow-violence and Cheesy
Word Count - 1818
Erik passed the last box down the ladder to Matthew as I squealed in excitement “That's the last one, right?! We can start now?!” James laughed a little as he climbed down the attic ladder “Yes Miss, we can start now.”
I had been waiting all of December for this! James had been away on business trips and Erik's business had been busier than ever so if we decorated it would have been without them and so we were all waiting until we could do it together. Which now happened to be Christmas eve.
I desperately grabbed the box of tinsel at my feet and hurried down the stairs. I swooned around the main lobby with idea's running around my head about how I could decorate this already gorgeous mansion and make it the most magical, winter wonderland anyone had ever seen. I was determined to make this the best Christmas I ever could. The boy's deserved the most magical first proper Christmas they could dream of, even if they don’t understand the holiday.
Christmas been a favourite holiday of mine, not the day itself, spending a day with my Father and having to pretend to enjoy it sucked, all while he goes on and on at me about school and my studies and most dreaded of all… ‘my future company'.
However, I loved the season. The snow, the going shopping with friends, the drinking hot chocolate by the fire, the decorating and everything else festive about the season but this year was different, this year I had someone special to spend it with.
I looked up the top of the stairs to see Sam leaning with his arms on the banister, holding a box filled with decorations, staring at me smiling. I shout up at him smiling “Don't drop those! Read the box their fragile!” Sam rolls his eyes as he stands up laughing “Can't read Doofus.”
Sam and I weren't official but we've been on a couple “hangouts” which more closely resembled dates and we'd kissed a couple times. It was pretty well known I liked him and I've walked in on my fair share of conversations I wasn't supposed to which included incessant teasing about his feelings. I had never had someone to share Christmas with like this. I mean I've had Naomi and Suzu to celebrate with but this is different. it feels more like celebrating with family than it ever has with the boys.
Matthew ran down the stairs, brushing past Sam and up to me holding three boxes. “Where'd you want these boss?!
I giggle as I point to one of the tables next to the staircase. “Over there. those are decorations for the tree! So, keep them close too here” Matthew nods like he’s on a mission and puts them down on the table. Erik smiles as he brings down a couple more boxes from the landing. “Is that why we bought that tree? To decorate it?” I nod firmly smiling as I start to wrap some red tinsel around the stair’s railings. Damien smiles at me as he passes more tinsel up to me. “From what you think about Christmas it must be the most amazing time ever.”
James clears his throat, bringing all our attention to him. “Alright, I think it would be more productive if we divide and concur.” I clap my hands in excitement as I back down the stairs. James smiles as he picks up a box. “Erik and I will decorate the dinning room and the kitchen, Matthew and Damien can decorate the main hall and Y/N and Sam could do the outside?” I smile brightly. “Yeah sounds great! I’ll go get my jacket.”
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The cold winter night was bitter and chilly as I rubbed my hands together. “You cold?” I turned to face Sam who had a small worried smile on his face as I shook my head. “Let’s get started. Ours is going to look the best” Sam gave me a devilish grin. “You bet it Doofus!”
I’m a little bit shocked at first at how quick Sam is decorating until I hit myself and realised, incubi. Duh. I grab some of the Christmas lights and start wrapping them around a window when I realise Sam is preoccupied setting up some plastic reindeer on the drive. I slowly lean down and grab a handful of snow and shape it into a ball. I aim it ever so carefully and throw it with all my might.
Bullseye.
I snicker as I turn around back at my lights as I hear Sam turn around in confusion muttering to himself “what in the hel-“ I hear the penny drop. “YOU!” His voice dripped with venom and anger as I burst out laughing and start running away. Sam gives chase as we run around the garden throwing half made snowballs at each other laughing and mucking around.
Sam bends down to make a snowball and I take the chance to jump behind some of James’s gardens, hidden by huge bushes. By the time Sam finishes and stands up he’s lost track of me and I’m perfectly hidden by the bushes. I sneak quietly to where he is looking around for me and calling out for me suspiciously. “Y/N? Y/N?”
I take my moment and lunge out the bushes jumping on him and push him to the ground and into the snow. “Got ya’!” I shout giggling as he bursts out laughing. After a couple moments the laugher stops at, we’re left smiling like idiots, looking into each other’s eyes. I start to blush realising I’m straddling him. I sigh leaning in and resting my forehead on his “Merry Christmas Sam”. He smiles sweetly looking down at my lips for a second before letting his eyes meet mine. “Merry Christmas Doofus”.
I gently lean my hands on his chest as I lean in for a short kiss. His lips are as heavenly as always and an amazing contrast of warmth against the freezing cold snow touching my legs and knees. As we finally pull apart, we laugh a little as we can see our breath in the cold air. “I can’t wait till you see what I got you” Sam said smiling affectionately making my heart skip a beat. “Y-You bought me something?” He gives me an amused smile as he laughs making his body shake and making my stomach tie itself up in knots. “What you didn’t think I’d get you something?” I shook my head smiling slightly “never thought about it”.
I stand up as I brush the snow off me. “Come on, we should get inside, it’s really chilly out here” I offer Sam a hand to pull him up which he takes as we start walking around the house to the front door.
As we walk up the porch I jump as I feel Sam’s hand on my waist as he pulls me into him. I must be redder than the tinsel right now. As we walk inside, my jaw drops. It’s gorgeous. The boys have made this so beautiful. The chandelier is decorated with tinsel and there are stockings hung over the railings along with candy canes and decorations set out all over the main hall. “wow…” I breathed out in amazement. It took me a while to realise all the boys were staring at me, or more specifically the hand that was on my waist. “This is amazing guys” I say as I move away from Sam looking at all the decorations. Erik laughs leaning against the bottom post of the railing. “I get that it’s snowy out there but you two are awfully wet.”
I smirk as I think about the snowball fight and I hear Damien’s laugh fill the room. “They’ve been having some Christmas fun of their own.” Matthew looks at me with an eyebrow quirked however all I do is wink back. I turn around and look into the dinning room when I see the tree we picked out standing up in a stand ready to be decorated. “Yes! This is the best bit” I run and hang my jacket up by the fire before running back to the tree skidding in my socks.
The boys crowd around the tree as we decorate it with tinsel, baubles, crackers and everything else. James smiles at me “You really love this Miss, don’t you?” I chuckle as I reach back into the box for the perfect decoration. “what gave it away?” James smiles charmingly at me “the stars in your eyes” I laugh gently placing the decoration on the tree when something catches the corner of my eye. A blur dashing out the room. “I’ll be back. Two moments”
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I follow the burr out the room and up the stairs to my room. “Sam?” When I open the door, Sam turns to face me with a small present in his hands. “Hey… I couldn’t wait” He holds it out to me gently as I walk over and take it. It’s not wrapped very well and the green ribbon is a bit crumpled. It’s not hard to see he had to try and wrap this quite a few times but it’s just perfect.
I softly open the wrapping paper to reveal a flat green velvet box. I turn to Sam confused but he just smiles at me nervously “open it…”. I open it to reveal a brand-new shiny chain bracelet with a beautiful dog tag hanging from it. I gasp in shock and in aww looking at it. He bought me a matching dog tag, maybe some people would be insulted but it’s so cute. I hear him breathe shakely as he bites his lip. “So?” I lunge at him again wrapping my arms around is neck attacking him with hugs. “I love it Sam! Thank you!”
I feel him let out a sigh of relief and I hug him tighter. I eventually pull apart from him as I look down at the box. I open it and gently pull the bracelet out and put it on. It’s so pretty and sweet I could cry. I quickly stand up and lean under my bed pulling out Sam’s present. “This is for you” Sam looks at me cheerfully as he takes it -and not so gracefully- rips the paper off to reveal a framed photo of us two in the summer when we went on holiday to Hawaii. Matthew took the photo and I’m jumped up on Sam’s back as we’re eating ice cream. He looks at it and rubs his thumb over the frame before he looks up at me the hint of tears in his eyes.
He stands up suddenly pulling me into a hug so tight it almost smothers me. “Thank you… Y/N…” I smile into him hugging him tighter and breathing in his sent “anytime…”.
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suituuup · 3 years
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for the christmas prompts, can you do “you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas". Thank you :)
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
rating: T
word count: 1,4k
ao3 link
*
Like a morning out of two, Beca wakes up to the steady beeping of her son’s heartbeat. She slowly sits up, wincing as she braces a hand over the painful twitch in her lower back from sleeping on that uncomfortable cot.
Her eyes fall on her sleeping son, so small and vulnerable in that large hospital bed. She pushes to her feet and leans over the railing, brushing her fingers through his auburn hair as she bends down to press a kiss to Dylan’s forehead.
The last year and a half has been an emotional whirlwind.
Dylan was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma right after his sixth birthday, and their whole world shifted on its axis. Chloe stopped teaching so she could take him to chemo and numerous doctor check-ups and Beca asked to only work part-time at the studio so she could spend more time with her family. Six months after the diagnosis, Dylan was in remission. Their happiness and relief were short-lived however, when signs of the illness showed up four months ago. The cancer was back. From LA, they moved to Philadelphia, where a doctor specialized in Hodgkin Lymphoma and Proton therapy.
Dylan’s body hasn’t been responding well to that type of treatment, and his body continued to shut down. He was admitted three weeks ago. The nurses and doctors on the peds ward are kind enough to let one parent stay over every night, so she and Chloe have been alternating night shifts at the hospital.
“Morning.” Beca’s pulled away from her thoughts by her wife’s voice. Chloe is standing in the doorway, two to-go cups balanced on one hand and a paper bag dangling from the other. The one who sleeps at home usually brings coffee and breakfast on the way in, as the hospital coffee tastes terrible. “How’s he doing?”
“Still asleep. Didn’t wake up through the night,” Beca says as Chloe steps further in, setting the items on the tray by Dylan’s bed before kissing Beca hello. Beca leans against her, releasing a sigh as she wraps an arm around her waist. Her eyes fall on the tote bag full of Christmas stuff set by the door. “What’s that?”
“I thought we should decorate, give this room a little holiday feeling.”
Beca smiles. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Once Dylan wakes up and the morning rounds are done, Beca and Chloe work around the room to hang the tinsels and Christmas lights, Christmas music playing through their portable speaker.
“What do you think, dude?” Beca asks when they’re done, lowering herself next to him and wrapping an arm around the seven-year-old’s shoulders as she takes in the newly-decorated room. “Did we do a good job?”
Dylan nods, a toothy grin spreading across his features. “Looks awesome.”
“I think so, too.” Beca presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I have to head to work, but I’ll be back for dinner, okay?”
“K.”
“Don’t destroy Mama at Mario Kart, alright?” She whispers, though she knows Chloe can hear her as she hangs the wreath on the door. “Let her win a couple times, at least.”
Dylan giggles while Chloe casts her a playful glare. Beca chuckles and pushes to her feet, brushing a quick kiss to Chloe’s lips on her way out. “See you later.”
It’s hard for her to truly focus at work when she knows her phone could go off any second if Dylan’s state suddenly worsens. She does her best to be present, but is immensely grateful when her boss assures her they’ll be fine if she leaves an hour early.
Like every night, they watch a movie or cartoon of Dylan’s choice while eating take-out, and read him a bedtime story before one of them has to leave.
“I love you,” Beca murmurs as she tucks the covers tighter around Dylan’s body. Leaving him at night is always the hardest, but they can’t both stay here.
“I love you too, Mommy.”
Chloe follows her out into the hall, where they have their only private moment of the day.
“I hate this,” Chloe whispers into their embrace. “I hate that one of us has to leave.”
“I know. Me too,” Beca mutters, her palm rubbing soothing circles over Chloe’s back as she soaks in her wife’s warmth. “I’ll be back early tomorrow morning.”
“You should get some more sleep,” Chloe says as she pulls away, cradling Beca’s cheek gently. “You’re exhausted, baby.”
Beca inhales sharply, cursing under her breath when a few tears escape the corners of her eyes. She can’t contradict Chloe; balancing work with their situation is exhausting, but they can’t afford to both be on leave. Bills still need to be paid, even when their son is extremely sick. “I’m terrified to miss your call if something happens.”
“You won’t,” Chloe murmurs. She catches the tear drops with the pad of her thumb and presses a lingering kiss to Beca’s forehead. They’re each other’s rocks. One is always there to anchor the other on tough days. “And he seems okay tonight.”
Beca nods. “I know. I just-- I can’t stop thinking of how unfair it all is. He doesn’t deserve any of this, Chlo.”
Chloe doesn’t say anything, probably because there’s nothing to be said. She hugs Beca a bit tighter, and they remain that way for long minutes, wordlessly giving each other as much comfort as they can despite the circumstances.
“I love you so much,” Beca whispers when she eventually lets go of her wife, taking Chloe’s hand and brushing a kiss to her knuckles.
“I love you, too. Send me a text when you’re home?”
“I will.”
The amazing team of nurses at Philly’s Children Hospital turn the pediatric ward into a Christmas Wonderland over the next few days. Service dogs come hang out with the young patients and Santa even visits to give out presents on Christmas Eve day.
It gets even better when Dylan’s favorite nurse swings by towards the end of the day to tell them that, since it’s Christmas Eve, they’re both allowed to spend the night at the hospital. Dylan gets to stay up an hour longer, facetiming with Chloe’s parents who are back on the west coast. Once he’s asleep, Beca sneaks in his presents and lies them in front of the tiny plastic Christmas tree they managed to tuck in the corner of the room.
She slides under the covers next to her wife a few minutes later, puffing out a content sigh. It’s the first time in a month that they get to sleep in the same bed, and Beca’s missed it more than she realized.
“He had a good time tonight,” Chloe whispers as Beca absentmindedly strokes her forearm while they cuddle on the twin sized cot.
“Yeah, I think so. Tomorrow is going to be even better. I’ll go get donuts and hot chocolates across the street before he wakes up.”
“Good idea.” Chloe smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “I wish we could get him a puppy.”
It was the plan up until Dylan was admitted. But the pet wouldn’t be able to stay in the hospital, and it would spend most of the days on its own in their empty house.
“Next year,” Beca says softly. Her heart physically hurts, because she knows another year is not guaranteed, but she can’t afford to let go of her hopes, or else she'll crumble. “We’ll get him one next year.”
Chloe nods, blinking back tears. “Okay.”
They wake Dylan up with a kisses and tickle attack in the morning, his giggles warming Beca's mind and soul.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” Chloe murmurs, letting up on the tickling as she kisses Dylan’s cheek. “Looks like Santa came by last night.”
Dylan gasps as he follows his Mama’s gaze to the tree surrounded by presents.
Beca pushes to her feet to get a couple, setting them on Dylan’s lap. They maybe went a little overboard with gifts, and some parents would probably call him spoiled, but after all he’s been through, Beca doesn’t give a flying fuck.
They play with his new toys for the rest of the day, and if Beca closes her eyes and shuts out the hospital sounds for a minute, focusing on her son's laughter, it almost seems like he's not sick.
It almost seems like things might be okay.
For a minute.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years
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Gift of Magi; Brian May x reader
*Author’s note*
Here is yet another little special Christmas fic I have for you all. If you loved my Joe Mazzello one then you guys are REALLY GONNA ROT YOUR TEETH WITH THIS SWEET FIC. As you can see by the title, this is inspired by the beloved Christmas tale of the same name, for a year now since getting into the Queen/BoRhap fandom I’ve wanted to do this fic with one of the members of Queen but I didn’t know which one to do it with. Finally after doing some thinking and planning and realizing I hadn’t really done  a solo Brian May fic in a long time, I decided our beloved space poodle DESERVED this story. Enjoy my lovelies :)
Warnings: TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Brian’s sickness (takes place in 1974 so that’s when he had his hepatitis scare along with some other things I had read up that happened during that time), Roger’s chaotic behavior, Freddie being a loving fairy godmother (you’ll see soon enough), and fluff, fluff, and you guessed it EVEN MORE FLUFF!!
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Taglist:
@plethora-of-things​
@waddles03​
@psychosupernatural​
@ixchel-9275​
@simonedk​
@queensdivas​
@queen-paladin​
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​
@queendeakyy​
@geek-and-proud​
@wormzteef​
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There it was.  The perfect gift for Brian.  The Refractor telescope, 30 power.  Don’t ask me what I just said cause I wouldn’t be able to tell you what all it does.  All I can say is that Bri’s been eyeing this bad boy for years and with an empty tripod he’s had since graduating University, he needed something to look up at the stars with (one of his classes he had to rent out a telescope and then return it to the professor once the semester ended).  
Yeah dating an astrophysicist Rockstar is one thing, but shopping for said astrophysicist rockstar is another, especially around the holidays and birthdays.  Sure he says all he needs is my love but I want to prove myself to him.  Plus I want to give him something special after the major health scare he had when he and Queen were touring with Mott the Hoople at the beginning of the year.
It was horrifying but I was there to help Brian recover from his Hepatitis scare and assure him that the band wasn’t going to replace him (bless his little heart, he was so sure the band was gonna abandon him) but they didn’t and they were there whenever they could, also they would send in some demos for me to play for Brian so that he could still have a say in the songs for their Sheer Heart attack album.
Now that Queen was slowly now getting recognized for their talents after “Killer Queen” made the top 10 in the charts, scratch that the entire album was going up the charts I wanted Brian to have something special to go with his tripod.
I took out my wallet and counted up my tips that I had been saving all year to buy this telescope. I was still a few pounds short but after today I should finally have enough to buy the telescope for my guy.
“Don’t you worry Bri. You’ll see the stars once again.” I put the money back in the side pouch of my purse and looked down at my watch. “Shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I exclaimed and quickly raced down the block towards the tree shop.  I had taken a second job at the Christmas tree shop to help with getting better tips for Brian’s telescope.
When I finally arrived, I walked into the open tree lot and punched in my timecard before the loud exclamation of my boss’ voice cried out.
“YOU’RE LATE!!”
“I’m sorry sir, I was……”
“Doesn’t matter! Now get out there and get those papers organized we’ve got customers out there who need trees!” I nodded and quickly went over to my desk and took out some of the reserved papers that some people filled out to confirm their tree orders.
The day was long and cold but every little penny counted.  I filled out the paperwork, helped the customer’s find their tree and even bypassed the boys at the shop and helped put the trees on top of the customer’s cars.
“Welcome to Mad Pete’s Tree shop how may I help you?”
“Yeah see my mate here is looking for a pretty cute tree, around (y/h), (h/c) and has two of the star glistening eyes he’s ever seen.” I looked up and low and behold there stood Roger and Brian.
“Really Rog? Did you have to go and say all that?”
“Hey bout time you got a taste of your own medicine of what we’ve had to deal with everytime you miss (n/n)!” I shook my head softly chuckling.
“So you guys really here to shop for a tree or are you trying to get me into trouble with the boss again?”
“Hey Fred and I did not cause that fire!” Roger defended himself.
“You guys were the only ones smoking at the time, you’re lucky I didn’t get fired from that little stunt.” I sassed him.  Brian gave him a disapproving look while Roger tried to brush it off, but as soon as he saw my scowl, he submitted and put on that puppy dog face of his.
“Sorry lovie. Can you forgive me?” I went up to him and embraced him.
“Of course I do yah big puppy dog.” I ruffled his long golden locks which made him exclaim as he tried to fix his hair back to normal.
“Oi! Do you know how long it takes for me to get my hair like this? It’s called a miracle darling.”
“Now you didn’t answer my question, what are you guys really doing here?”
“We figured we’d go and get us a tree since we couldn’t get one last year. Since we got some money now instead of hardly anything.” Brian said.
“Ahh I see. Well let’s see what I can help you with. Follow me gentlemen.” I guided them towards the back and there were some of the smaller trees that hadn’t been reserved and that could be affordable for Bri and Rog.  “I know it’s not much but I know you guys can afford these trees. Pete’s been trying to skyrocket the prices, especially for his prized 10 footers.”
“It’s perfect love, thank you.” He kissed me softly on my lips.  I slowly wrapped my arms around him when I felt him take my string necklace revealing my great grandmother’s diamond encrusted locket. “You know, that locket deserves a beautiful golden chain.”
“Brian.” I took his hand in mine and held it against my cheek. “You know you don’t have to.”
“But I want to. Just imagine in, that scared locket chained up to a beautiful chain around that pretty neck of yours.” I blushed and pressed my head against his chest.
“You flatterer. You may not know your way around the dance floor but you have a way with words. No wonder you’re an astrophysicist. Speaking of which, you still got that tripod right?”
“Yeah. I still keep it cleaned, even though I’ll never be able to afford a telescope of my own for years if I’m lucky.” Oh little does he know.
“Well you never know. Santa has his ways.”
“You know love, it’s kinda weird how you still believe in Santa Clause even at your age.” Brian said. I let out a dramatic gasp.
“How dare you! You are never told old to believe in Father Christmas. Right Rog?”
“Damn straight! Just ignore your boyfriend (n/n), he thinks he’s too clever for Christmas.” Rog said as he took me away from Brian and wrapped an arm around my neck.
“Now hold on I didn’t—” a throat cleared and that’s when I saw a middle aged couple with their two small children.  The father who had a greying beard and wore some prescription circular glasses.
“Excuse me, we—we’re looking for a tree.” He said shyly.
“Oh did I hear you folks looking for a tree? Well step right over here and I’ll show you the best trees I’ve got!” Pete soon came in saying and guided the parents away from the smaller trees, right towards his prized 10ft.  I glared at him and turned to the guys.
“Think you both can find a tree yourselves?”
“No worries love. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll see you tonight though right?”
“Of course. I’ll be over at your flat by 6pm on the dot. At least I’ll be on time unlike you are, yah scatterbrain.” He gave me that disapproving scowl (you know where he tilts his head down and his brow raises up and a deep frown crosses his lips). I giggled and pecked his lips and said, “You know I love you right?”
“With those insults I’m starting to doubt it.” He mocked.  I playfully swatted his arm which made him chuckle then I proceeded to follow the family to get them a more affordable tree.
After looking and looking through the very back of the lot, I had found the perfect tree that would suit the family just right.  I took it around to where Pete had his 10 footers displayed.
“I really am sorry madam but the rest of my trees have been reserved, these are the only ones I’ve got. You don’t want these kids going without a tree this year do you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“We are gonna get a tree? Aren’t we daddy?” the little girl around 5 years old said.
“But—this is all we have.” The father said as he took out what looked like one pound and threepenny pieces.
“Then that’s just enough for a down payment.” Mr. Pete said as he readied the contract.  Okay that’s it.
“Ugg excuse me!” I made myself known. “I’m sorry to interrupt but uhh—I managed to find this out back. It hasn’t been reserved or anything, maybe you and your family would like this.” I walked up with the tree and set it down.
The kids all ooed and awed at it, it was just slightly bigger than the two of them were.  The father shoved the contract back into Mr. Pete’s hands and he said to me joyously.
“We’ll take it! Oh thank you so much miss.”
“No problem, let me help you get this tree set up onto your car.” I took the father’s money for the tree and walked with them back to their car.
As they drove away waving and thanking me for the help, I waved goodbye back to them and wished them a Merry Christmas.  I counted up my tips and felt my heart skip a beat.
“I did it. I—I actually did it! Oh it’s finally enough to get Brian that telescope!” I cheered as I jumped up and down until a shadow came over me.  I stopped and slowly turned around and saw Mr. Pete seething down at me, his cigar bit between his yellow teeth.
“I HAD THEM HOOKED ONTO BUYING ONE OF MY TEN FOOTERS!!” he yelled in my face which made me slip and fall flat on my back in the snow. “And I’ve decided to take what I would’ve made out of your payment!” he snatched my bag of tips out of my hand.
“No let go of that! I need it for someone special’s Christmas gift!” I exclaimed as I tugged on the other end of it trying to take it back.
“Not. My. Problem!” he said.  With one final good yank, I was once again back in the snow as Mr. Pete pocketed my tip bag. “And just for the record. YOU’RE FIRED!!” he walked away from me with my bag of tips.  Not just from working at his lot but my waitressing job tips as well.
Of course I wasn’t upset about getting fired from the Christmas tree lot, I was just upset that all my hard work was now for nothing.  Guess I’ll be going to Brian’s empty handed.  I stood up, brushed the snow off my pants and walked away solemnly from the lot.
Thinking just how in the hell I’m gonna get Brian that telescope now.  There’s no way I could come up with the money by 4 o’clock today.
*Brian’s POV*
After picking out the perfect tree from the lot, Roger and I drove down back to the flat.  As we drove down the road I quickly said to Roger.
“Pull over.”
“What?”
“Just pull over Rog!” I snapped.  He muttered angrily and pulled the car into the pawnshop parking lot and I quickly stepped out and went up to the window and saw it.  The gold chain I’ve had my eyes on to give to (Y/n) to go with her locket.
“Forget it Bri, you’ll never afford it!” I heard Roger exclaim from the car.  I glared down and turned towards him.
“You underestimate me Rog.”
“All I’m saying is that we barely had enough to buy this tree. Trident is really screwing us over with our payment. John’s trying his best but he can’t seem to prove it legally. Yet.” He said to me.
“I know. It’s just I want to give (Y/n) the perfect gift this year. After everything that’s happened especially with my health, I want to show her just how much she’s meant to me. Without her I—I doubt I would even be standing here right now.”
“Now don’t go getting sappy on me now mate. (N/n) is a diamond in the rough, but you know she’s never wanted any riches or fame. All she ever says she needs in the world is you. God now you got me talking sappy! I hate you both sometimes!”
“Oh what? Mr. Hard-rocker can’t take a little sweetness in his life?” I teased as I got back in the car.
“Shut up or I’ll run your arse over.” He threatened.  I softly chuckled as Roger pulled away from the pawnshop.
Soon.  I’ll get that gold chain soon enough.  I just need to figure out a plan, but I only have 6 hours left so I need to think fast.
*My POV*
GRRRRR!!! Why can’t life be like a fairytale sometimes? I sure could use a fairy godmother right about now to give me enough money for Brian’s telescope.  I sat down at a nearby park bench and fiddled with my locket.
“(Y/n)?” I perked up my head. “(Y/n) darling is that you?” I looked up and there I saw Freddie with row upon row of shopping bags.
“Freddie? Wha…..what are you doing here?”
“Doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Of course shopping for that man of yours is a nightmare! Okay a living hell! No offense.”
“None taken. He—can be difficult to shop for at times.” I said solemnly.  Freddie cocked his head curiously like one of his cats and he asked me.
“You okay dear? No offense but you look like someone threw you in a dumpster and the dumpster spat you back out.”
“I could be better.” He came over and set his bags down at our feet and he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“C’mon. You tell ol’ Freddie what happened darling? Why are you so down at this festive time of the year?”
“To put it bluntly, I got fired from Pete’s tree lot.”
“What?! Alright that’s it I am going to march straight down there and have a little chat with Mr. Pete.” I grabbed Fred’s arm and said.
“That’s not what’s bothering me though Fred. Honestly, I could care less whether or not I worked there next year or not.”
“Then what else happened that made you so sad?”
“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell Brian?” he gasped.
“Please tell me you’re pregnant.”
“What no! No! Fred that’s not it at all. You see, you know how Brian always has that empty tripod at yall’s flat?” he nodded. “Well I did some digging and found the perfect telescope that can go with his tripod. Since the start of the year I’ve been saving up all my tips just to get him that telescope. The tree lot’s really been helping my tips grow compared to my waitressing job. And today I managed to reach my goal.”
“Well that’s great so—”
“But that’s when Pete took my tip bag away. All of it.”
“What!? Why the fuck would he do something like that!?”
“Because I stopped him from selling this sweet family an expensive 10ft. tree. They knew they couldn’t afford it yet Pete was pressuring them. So I sold them a small and affordable tree and they were excited about what I showed them and took it. Pete said he was gonna take what he would’ve made off the tree out of my pay. So he took everything. My entire bag of tips that have been saved since this year.”
“That low-life…..you sure you don’t need me to go ‘speak’ to him?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore Fred. I only have 2 hours till the shop closes and no way of paying for that telescope. Now Brian will never be able to look up at the stars the way he dreams of doing.” I leaned my head against Fred’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, gently rubbing my arm and pressed a soft kiss on top of my head.
“You know what I always found to be the cure for a sour face?” he asked me.
“What?”
“Trying on new clothes. C’mon let’s go down to BIBA and pick you something nice to wear for the party. My treat.”
“No, no Fred I can’t do that. Plus what about your shopping?”
“Ahhh I was done with it anyways. Now c’mon. Maybe taking your mind off of your sad morning will help you come up with a plan. And here why don’t you take this?” he reached down and grabbed one of his shopping bags. “It’s something I was planning on giving to that space man of yours, but it seems you need it more than I do.”
“Freddie I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll take it. That way you can at least not feel guilty of coming to our flat empty handed. And maybe give me a sneak peek of what to expect from you for my Christmas present.”
“In your dreams Mercury. I never spill Christmas secrets.”
“Damn it!” he pouted.
“C’mon you, I was promised a shopping trip so I expect you to deliver.”
“Darling have you met me?” he stood up and I helped him with some of his bags and the two of us walked towards BIBA.
After finally getting into a warm store, I shivered and rubbed my arms frantically trying to get some friction on them and warm myself up.  Freddie and I then proceeded to try out some clothes.
Freddie was right. After awhile of trying out various types of clothing and giving Fred my personal opinion on what he could possibly wear for a future concert, I was starting to feel better.  Currently I was trying on a winter hat and looking at myself in the mirror.
“Hold everything (Y/n) darling! I’ve found the perfect thing for you!” I heard Freddie exclaim all the way from the other side of the store.  I buried my face under the hat as people looked towards me.  Fred came racing over to me and he held up a cute red Christmas shawl with little snowflakes on it.
“Oh my god this is cute!” Fred then tied it around my neck but tied it in a fashion knot, making sure my locket was the key feature showing above my shawl.
“Figured this could go great with your great-grammy’s locket. That thing is worth millions.”
“Yeah. Pure diamond encrusted and……” I trailed off. “That’s it. THAT’S IT!! Fred what time is it?!” I asked him urgently.
“Uhh it’s uhh…..10 till 4.”
“Uggh! There’ll be no time to get there by the road. Nevermind I’ll just run. Yeah run as fast as I can to the shop and get Brian’s telescope! Thanks Fred you’re the best but you can take Brian’s gift back I think I’ve found the perfect way to get Brian that telescope!” I ripped the shawl off my neck and handed it back to Fred and raced out of BIBA and ran as fast as I could.
Now running and snow are not a good combination but I couldn’t stop now.  Not even as I was slipping and sliding along the crosswalks, all that mattered to me was getting to that shop on time.  I would look up towards Big Ben to see how much time I had left and time was running short.
I still had about six blocks till I got to the shop and I was down to my final 3 minutes on the clock.  I soon spotted some teenager boys sledding up along some railings and bus benches.  I walked up to one of them and quickly asked them if I could borrow his sled for a moment.
At first he pondered on the though till finally he agreed to let me have it.  I told him where he could come collect it in the next five minutes and I proceeded to sled the rest of the way to the shop.
Now gaining some speed, I could see the shop just down the hill.  I took a deep breath and proceeded to slid down the street towards the shop but as I got halfway that’s when Big Ben began to gong out the next hour. GONG……GONG…..GONG…..GONG!
Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! As I got to the bottom I saw the shop starting to close up, the lights went off and soon the old shopkeeper came out and locked up. I stood up and ran towards him.
“Wait sir wait!” he turned to me.  He was an elderly man roughly around his mid-60s, he wore prescription glasses and his hair was white and thinning, he also was growing out a small white beard.  “I—I was wondering if you’d be willing to make a trade?” I took my great-grandmother’s locket off my rope chain. “I was hoping to trade in this locket for that telescope you have on display. The 30 power Refractor one. It’s for my guy.”
He took the locket from my hands and observed it closely.  He hummed sadly and said.
“Sorry ma’am. That there is a pretty locket but it won’t do much in my shop.” He handed me back the locket and pocketed his keys. “Well, Merry Christmas.” He told as he began to walk away.
“Please sir this locket was a family heirloom. It belong to my great grandmother back in the early 1890’s. It’s diamond encrusted and pure gold you can see if for yourself.” I said walking alongside him, showing him the locket once again.  He sighed and told me.
“I know love but—what I sell in my shop is stuff people actually use in their lives. And as I said before as pretty and as valuable as that locket is, no one will want it in my shop.” I stopped and looked down heartbroken. He hummed sympathetically and continued as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder “Tell you what, why not go down to the pawnshop across town and you can sell it there? Then once you got the money, come back here the day after Christmas and then we’ll discuss about that Refractor 30 power telescope.”
“But I need it by tonight. This was my last chance to get my Brian something special after the horrid year he’s had. I would give anything in the world to get him that telescope, even if it’s a precious family heirloom.”
“Anything?” he asked quizzically. “Tell me poppet what else are you planning on giving for that there telescope?” he said with his arms crossed.
“I’d give all my love if I could. As sappy as that sounds but it’s true. Brian he’s—” I looked towards the sky and could already see the first star in the sky. “He’s my shining star.” I heard the shopkeeper chuckle.
“Now that’s how you make a sale. Sure wish there were more young compassionate lovers like you and this man of yours. Reminds me of me and my wife Gertrude. God rest her soul. C’mon in come on in and we’ll discuss that trade.” I smiled and in my adrenaline of pure joy, I hugged the old man and heard him softly chuckle.
Later that night, I arrived at the boy’s flat ready for the Queen Christmas party.  The boys along with Mary, Veronica, and Roger’s girlfriend Jo were all there by the time I arrived.  We had a warm and delicious Christmas eve dinner and exchanged the gifts. First the guys gave out gifts to each other, then us girls proceeded to give our gifts to each other.
I had gotten Ronnie some baby clothes (yes she was a couple of months pregnant at the time and had given us the big announcement just a month ago).  I gave Jo a copy of her favorite Jimi Hendrix album, and as for Mary I got her some new makeup from the latest designer line.
I had gotten some winter hats and scarves from Mary, a copy of my favorite Shakespeare play from Ronnie, and Jo got me the new Beatles album.
After most of the gifts had been exchanged, I quickly went to the back of the tree and pulled out my gift for Brian.  I groaned and heaved it up.
“Jesus (n/n) what did you get him a pool table?” Roger asked as he lit up his cigarette.
“Ha-ha you’re hilarious Taylor.” I sassed sarcastically.  I then turned to Brian and I said to him, “Hey Bri, why don’t you go get that tripod out from your room?” he chuckled nervously and fiddled around with his shirt collar nervously as he said.
“Actually….why don’t you open yours first? And maybe even let us see that locket of yours. I don’t think Jo’s ever seen it before.” Now I started getting nervous.
“Oh she wouldn’t be interested in that old thing. Here, why don’t we open our gifts together?”
“At least do something!” Freddie and John both slapped Roger over the head making him exclaim in pain. Brian handed me my gift, a small but beautiful wrapped box with a gorgeous red bow, while I carefully handed him my giant box.
The two of us unwrapped our gifts and opened up the tops and my eyes widened as I let out a soft gasp.
“A—a gold chain to go with my……locket.”
“Oh my god (Y/n)! You got me the Refractor 30 power telescope for my—tripod.” Wait why did he trail off at the end? I turned to him and saw that he had a sorrow-filled expression on his face.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
“Oh (Y/n) I love it. I really do, I’ve always wanted my own telescope it’s just—” he sighed heavily. “I just had to trade that old tripod to get you that gold chain.”
“What?”
“Pawnshop’s son was into space and he needed a tripod for his telescope. So I told the pawnshop owner that I had one since that one was practically collected dust instead of stars.” Oh Brian.
“And I traded my locket to get you that telescope.” Brian and everyone else softly gasped.
“Oh (Y/n), I can’t believe you would trade away a family heirloom for me.” Brian said.
“I would’ve given anything Brian. After—everything that’s happened this year. From your hepatitis scare, to the ulcer and even fear of losing your arm I—wanted to give you something special. I don’t care if it costed me an arm, leg or even my own heart. I would’ve done anything to at least see you smile that real Brian May smile I’ve come to love.”
He cupped the side of my face and brought me closer to him, our lips joining together in a soft, delicate, loving kiss.  Of course Roger and Fred just had to make it embarrassing by telling Bri to give me more tongue.
“Come with me.” He silently said urgently as he guided me out to the small backyard behind their flat. “There now we got some privacy away from the pests that is Freddie and Roger. I swear those two are mentally 5 years old 24/7.”
“Well Fred is, Rog is more like 3 years old.” He snorted out a soft laugh.
“Anyways what I wanted to bring you out here to tell you is that while I appreciate what you did to get me the telescope, you didn’t have to trade your locket. I know how much it meant to you.”
“I know but like I said earlier, I would’ve given anything to see you smile again.”
“Just being by my side is enough to make me smile.” He said as he cupped each side of my face, his calloused thumbs caressed my cheeks.  I smiled and he pressed his forehead against mine, our noses gently nuzzling against one another’s before he captured my lips in another kiss.
For the rest of the night, we all sang some Christmas songs, watched some Christmas films and when it got late we all decided to turn in for the night.  I was in Brian’s room, the two of us cuddled up close on his bed.
“I just hope by next Christmas we’ll have ourselves a house.” He said.
“Let’s take it one step at a time my love.” I said as I tucked my hand into his unbuttoned t-shirt softly stroking his collarbone and gave the junction between his neck and shoulder a kiss.  “For now I’m content to how this Christmas turned out.”
“Me too. Even though we basically recreated the gift of Magi tale.” I smiled and felt Brian kiss the top of my head which his fingers slowly stroked up and down my spine. “Happy Christmas my stardust.”
“Happy Christmas my space man.” Brian covered the two of us with his duvet and we fell into a peaceful slumber in his arms.
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Hello! So, I mean, this might be out of the blue, ambiguous and crazy to answer (but it's something I think about a lot, and you touched upon it in a previous ask and would love your further perspective on!) but let's say, at the end of The Return of The King, Grima lived! What do you personally think his journey and path would look like from there?
Grima asks are never out of the blue - I always want them <3 Thank you so much for asking!!
--
man ok - well Grima at the end of ROTK is in a really dark place. Frodo, Gandalf et al first run into Grima and Saruman on the road near the misty mountains as the make their slow return journey from Gondor. 
As they (Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf) came out again into the open country at sundown they overtook an old man leaning on a staff, and he was clothed in rags of grey or dirty white, and at his heels went another beggar, slouching and whining. 
[...]
‘Get up you idiot!’ he (Saruman) shouted to the other beggar, who had sat down on the ground; and he struck him with his staff. ‘Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I’ll give you no crust for your supper!’ 
The beggar turned and slouched past whimpering: ‘Poor old Grima! Poor old Grima! Always beaten and cursed. How I hate him! I wish I could leave him!’ 
‘Then leave him!’ said Gandalf. 
a man who has never been in an abusive situation in his life, clearly. 
‘One thief deserves another,’ said Saruman (to Merry), and turned his back on Merry, and kicked Wormtongue, and went away towards the wood. 
Great guy, Saruman. 
And the famous scouring of the Shire bit that everyone on here misremembers when it comes to Grima’s whole situation: 
But Frodo said: (...) But I will not have him (Saruman) slain. It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing. Go Saruman, by the speediest way!’ 
‘Worm! Worm!’ Saruman called; and out of a nearby hut came Wormtongue, crawling, almost like a dog. ‘To the road again, Worm!’ Said Saruman. ‘These fine fellows and lordlings are turning us adrift again. Come along!’ 
[Saruman tries to stab Frodo as he leaves and Sam gets ready to shank a bitch. Frodo stops him saying: ‘...He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us; but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it.’ ...]
He (Saruman) walked away, and the hobbits made a lane for him to pass; but their knuckles whitened as they gripped on their weapons. Wormtongue hesitated, and then followed his master. 
‘Wormtongue!’ called Frodo. ‘You need not follow him. I know of no evil you have done to me. You can rest and food here a while, until you are stronger and can go your own ways.’ 
Wormtongue halted and looked back at him, half prepared to stay. Saruman turned. ‘No evil?’ he cackled. ‘Oh no! Even when he sneaks out at night it is only to look at the stars. But did I hear someone ask where poor Lotho is hiding? You know, don’t you Worm? Will you tell them?’ 
Wormtongue cowered down and whimpered: ‘No, no!’
‘Then I will,’ said Saruman. ‘Worm killed your chief, poor little fellow, your nice little Boss. Didn’t you, Worm? Stabbed him in his sleep, I believe. Buried him, I hope; though Worm has been very hungry lately. No, Worm is not really nice. You had better leave him to me.’ 
A look of wild hate came into Wormtongue’s red eyes. ‘You told me to; you made me do it,’ he hissed. 
Saruman laughed. ‘You do what Sharkey says, always, don’t you, Worm? Well, now he says: follow!’ He kicked Wormtongue in the face as he grovelled, and turned and made off. But at that something snapped: suddenly Wormtongue rose up, drawing a hidden knife, and then with a snarl like a dog he sprang on Saruman’s back, jerked his head back, cut his throat, and with a yell ran off down the lane. Before Frodo could recover or speak a word, three hobbit-bows twanged and Wormtongue fell dead. 
A sad end to a very sad life. 
-
So that’s the canon ending, obviously. A very neat, pat ending where all the baddies are dead, everyone who is broken will disappear into an asylum and/or die take a boat to the grey havens and life will move on. 
How nice. 
-
Alright, now for the speculation! My favourite thing. 
Assuming Grima lived, god knows what his journey afterwards would look like. He’s mentally (and physically) in a bad way after having been physically (and emotionally) abused and starved by Saruman for the last year/two years. Saruman may have lost his powers, but he’s still terrifying force to be reckoned with. I don’t know how much Grima would be capable of on his own in terms of survival. 
That said, Grima’s made it this far. He’s clearly got something in him that’s keeping him alive. Something in him wants to live. It might not know how to go about doing that, but it’s there, and that’s important. 
So he’s stabbed Saruman, A+ work. The hobbits don’t shoot him. The question is then: does he take up Frodo’s offer or does his fuck off into the wilderness. 
I can see him going either direction, honestly. But I suspect, given that he’s starving and in a bad way physically, I suspect he’d stay for a time. Now, considering what’s happened to him in the general vicinity of Bagend, I’m not sure how long Grima will stay, but I do think he’d rest there for a short while. Get a proper meal or two in him. Take a bath. That sort of thing. 
From there he could go to somewhere like Bree or Dale, take up a new name/new life and try and move on, as much as a person can in a world that has absolutely no support networks for people who have gone through bad shit. 
If he stayed for a longer period with Frodo? I could see Sam putting him to work. 
‘I need someone to help me garden.’ 
‘...I know about horses?’
‘Plants are easier, trust me.’ 
‘....Are they though?’ 
Considering the fact that Grima has been dehumanized (Worm; like a dog; cur) and treated as worthless/unworthy by one of the more powerful beings in Middle Earth - and one who was once Great! Who was once wise and wonderful! I suspect he’s going to have a difficult time accepting kindness? 
Frodo, of course, would be generous and understanding, because it’s Frodo and that’s the measure of man he is. Truly one of the nicest and most forgiving and tender people in the series. 
Aragorn said of Grima that if he walked out of Orthanc alive it would be too good for him. 
(Everyone is a lot meaner in the books. Funnier, yes, but also meaner. Then there’s the weird Faramir moment where he’s all up on that “Numenorian Blood Quantum Is Important” nonsense (tell that to your brother who has no blood of the Westernese in him...) There’s a lot of Oooof moments). 
Frodo, though, Frodo is one of the genuinely kind and loving people who would never think such cruel things about anyone. 
But back to Grima, I think the line Gillian Flynn wrote about how when you’re weaned on poison, it makes kindness seem like a cruelty is very relevant here. The first step to healing is allowing yourself to admit that you deserve to be healed, that you deserve love. That’s a very hard thing to allow, to acknowledge is something you are worthy of having. 
And so it would be difficult, for him, to accept kindness and gentleness from Frodo, or anyone else. But if he was doing something to “earn” it, that might make it more palatable. 
Which is a shame, since if there is anyone who understands the power and allure of the dark lord/Saruman etc. and how that can mess you up and contort you into someone you don’t recognize anymore, it’s Frodo.
-
Would Grima go back to Rohan? I don’t think so. Unless there were some wild, unexpected circumstances that brought him there, I truly don’t see him returning home. He’s torched that bridge pretty successfully - at least, I’m sure that’s how he sees it. 
Now if he did. If something Bat Shit happened - and he went back. It would be wild and very emotional.  
A Rider of Rohan, lost in the shire: I’m looking for a Mr Baggins? I understand he might know where Gandalf is? We sort of need some magic help in Rohan. 
Hobbit: Turn left at the end of the lane, go past Grubby Harold’s llama farm, stop at the intersection with the red sign, take the third exit of the roundabout, turn right, turn left, turn left again, take the second switch back up the hill, at the crest of the hill, take the path that turns left at the big tree that someone carved Fuck Lobelia into and that should get you close. 
Rider: 
Rider: Right. 
Rider eventually shows up, Grima’s out front updating Sam on some shit that Pansy Fielding said to Fardulf Braceblower, an ongoing war that has existed since the Dawn of Time. Sam is like “Please never stop telling me all the gossip, I live for this shit.”
Frodo: How did you hear about this? 
Grima: I might have set up an informant’s network but it’s solely to trawl for entertaining gossip.  
Rider approaches: Oh dear gods. 
Grima: 
Grima: Go get fucked, Gundahar. 
Sam: Friend? 
Grima & Gundahar: No. 
Anyway. The rider tells Frodo that he’s after Gandalf because XYZ is happening in Rohan and Eomer-king is annoyed and “wants it dealt with, preferably yesterday”. Grima knows what’s up because you know, resident Spook Master also he was spending a lot of time around a lore-filled Wizard. Might as well get something for the years of mistreatment. 
Gundahar: He’s not coming back to Rohan. 
Frodo: We’re going on a road trip, Sam. Let’s get packed. 
Sam: I’m so ready for this. 
Grima: But I’m not going back to Rohan. 
Gundahar: He’s not coming back to Rohan. 
Frodo: Too late, he’s coming with us. Neither of us can be left alone for too long or we go weird in the head. 
Merry: Oh we’re going to Rohan? Well, as a member of the royal court I’m coming. 
Gundahar: .... How is this happening? 
Grima: Hobbits, they move in herds. 
Pippin: WAIT FOR ME! 
Gandalf is UPSET that he has to travel with Grima. Grima says it’s mutual. He doesn’t like wizards. Especially wizards in white. He gets weird about hoarding food when Gandalf is around. 
Grima then has to visit Theoden’s grave and have a lot of emotions about everything and it’s a Lot.
I don’t think he’d stay, though. Either he’d go back with Frodo or he might go on to Gondor or out east or something. Travel for a while. 
I’ve gone off on some tangents here. Ahem. 
But in general, I see his journey going in one of two directions: one where he fucks off after murdering Saruman and takes up a life somewhere else like Bree, or wherever, probably drinks too much and is miserable until he dies. 
The other is where he accepts Frodo’s offer and either just chills in the Shire being the resident gossip-monger and mischief maker (Frodo: NO MISCHIEF. Grima: we can make a little mischief .., as a treat?) or he accepts the offer, stays for a while to get back on his feet and shake off some of the darkness, then goes off to travel around. Maybe he settles somewhere, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless if he stays or goes, it is a better ending to his life than he probably hoped for or expected. 
And it shows the power and importance of kindness and love. Healing only happens if there is love and gentleness. And it’s terrifying - of course it is - but it’s so necessary. 
-
Ok I am so sorry for my dissertation on Grima. I love talking about him so much.  
Thank you!! <3 <3 
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Text
Guerrerita, Part 3
 <- Part 2
Summary: The first time you met Nevada Ramirez was also in a dark alley. 
1,577 words
Tumblr media
“You owe me.”
“What?” you hissed, whipping around to face the threatening voice. You kept your face hard, showing no sign of weakness, even as you saw the three intimidating men who had followed you into the alley outside a shady, semi-legal MMA tournament.
“I had a lot of money riding on that fight,” said the shortest of the three, tsk-tsking. His shoes were shiny black leather—expensive, but tacky. He held a cigarette between his teeth when he wasn’t speaking and wore all black except for the gold cross flashing around his neck, pendant resting in a bed of dark chest hair. The two flanking him were bulky heavyweights, over six feet, at least two hundred-fifty pounds a piece, which meant you probably couldn’t take them. Not both at once. They dwarfed the center guy, but they were waiting on his signal to do anything. The small one was the brains. The boss. He was the one you had to keep your eyes on.
“So what? Not my problem.”
You shrugged your gym bag over you shoulder and turned to leave, but his goons stepped forward sharply, ready to grab you, and you thought better of it. As much as you’d rather not show them you were scared, this was the kind of dangerous you didn’t turn your back on.
“Oh, sweetheart. You think I’m playing? You come into my town, looking like a nervous mousy little rookie. Oh, pobrecita bebita, que tierna,” he mocked baby-talk at you, pouting his lips. “Get everyone betting against you, then the bell rings and you turn into a wild fucking animal. You run a hustle on my turf? Way I see it, that is your problem.”
Your left nostril began to twitch and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. “Then get some fucking glasses.” A small voice inside begged frantically, don’t do this now, calm down, but it was already drowned out by a dark, reckless pulsing in your ears. You didn’t like being threatened. Somewhere along the line your stubborn refusal to take any more shit from assholes turned into a fury you couldn’t control, that overrode your own self-preservation. Your bruised fists curled for another fight.
The boss just laughed, a harsh, barking, sarcastic show of power. His men stayed put, for now. “What a dirty mouth. Little warrior here, huh? I like that, I like that.” He prowled toward you, a crooked smirk without teeth bending his neatly trimmed stubble. If he wasn’t such a scumbag you would have called him handsome. Maybe that was what kept you at bay, apart from the knowledge that the second you launched yourself at him in a hail of fists, the two big guys would kill you—because his face was too pretty to bloody up. “Guerrerita, you don’t know who you’re fucking with.”
“You want money, go after the bookies. They’re the ones making bank,” you challenged, taking a few backwards steps to keep distance from him. “I don’t know what kind of hustle you think I’m running, but I bet my last fifty bucks on myself and I’ll still be lucky to make rent. I am not giving a cut to some wannabe gangsters.” You planted your feet at the spot where the alley curved and some old shipping crates created a pinch-point where your smaller size might afford some advantage, and refused to back off another inch.
He stopped, keeping several feet of distance, too. Taking one last drag, he threw his cigarette butt down and crushed it out.
“I’m the King of the Heights, sweetheart,” he explained, as if that should mean anything to you. “Nevada Ramirez.” He extended a hand to shake, and you dropped into a defensive stance. You didn’t like the way he looked you up and down, scrutinizing you with a gaze that made goosebumps rise along your arms. Your muscles twitched in anger and terror, and you tried to balance the two emotions so you could maybe get home in one piece.
“Alright, Mr. Ramirez. Why don’t you and your boys back the fuck off and let me go home. Because you try to follow me, rough me up? I promise it won’t be worth your time. You watched me fight. Before your boys back there can take me down, I’ll have your balls shoved down your goddamn throat. And yeah, you can have your boys shoot me dead.” You noticed the muscle had reached for concealed weapons the moment their boss got within range of your fists. “But what a waste. I’ve never done anything to you. I’m not a threat to your… kingdom? Not unless you attack me first. So why don’t we both just go about our merry ways in peace?”
He laughed again. Dry. Harsh. Your defiance entertained him, but he was growing impatient.
“What makes you think you can tell me how to run this town?” The hard edge to his voice raised the hairs on the back of your neck. As much as you liked to think you’d hit rock bottom and didn’t give a damn anymore, you’d never been murdered. As many impulsive fights as you’d gotten yourself into, you had never been so sure that losing would result in your body in a bag. He smiled when you had no more snappy comebacks, relishing the growing fear in your eyes. His posture opened up, suddenly all friendly. “You’ve got me all wrong. No one’s gonna kill you, guerrerita.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to know what’s a high-class broad like you doing here?” He raised his eyebrows. His knowing grin sent a jolt down your spine, and he looked satisfied by your reaction, which confirmed his assumption.
Nevada could read people, and he could smell suburbs on you. Nice house. Good family. Educated. White picket fence and a dog. Apparently he couldn’t smell the trauma or the failed stint in the Marines thanks to your occasional but fun penchant for sucker punching assholes without thought to rank.
“What’s it to you?” Your teeth ground together. Like hell you’d ever tell him that story.
“You owe me for that stunt in there. And I know how you can pay me back.”
Now it was your turn to laugh. “Good luck if you think my family will pay you ransom. You think I’d be here if—”
“Work for me.”
Your mind went blank. For several seconds you stared, wondering if you’d heard him right. Finally you blurted incredulously, “What?”
“Come work for me, and we call your debt even.” He looked you up and down again with a smirk. “Bet you clean up into some nice arm candy, classy girl like you.”
You took another step back despite yourself, stomach turning. “No fucking way. I don’t need a pimp, and if you even think of touching me I swear to fucking god...” Your voice turned into a threatening snarl as disgust turned to rage. Your muscles twitched, ready to do as much damage to his handsome, jeering face as possible before being killed. You would rather die than go through that again.
“Whoah, easy,” Nevada laughed, putting his hands up in surrender, but with enough dripping mockery to make it a power move. “Nothing like that. Security.”
“Security?”
“You get knocked in the head too many times?” he raised his eyebrows over his shoulder back at his guys, and they laughed along like trained seals. “Think about where you are. You just won a contest for beating the shit outta people. Security.”
“You want me to be a bodyguard?”
“Now she gets it,” he smiled, and it was pure delight. “Enforcers that look the part are a dime a dozen—face full of scars, covered in macho tats. They send a certain message, don’t they? Usually the intimidating shit is what you want. But some situations call for a bit more… nuance than these pendejos.” He jerked his thumb toward the giant brawlers still lurking behind him. One of them sulked. “You could be subtle. When business requires I don’t advertise I brought muscle. Imagine it,” his tongue darted over his lower lip. “Put you in a dress two sizes too small, and nobody sees you coming until your fist is through their skull. I bet folks underestimate you all the time.”
You almost laughed that the idea of protecting him when he must have known you’d just as soon put a fist through his skull. Working with criminals didn’t sit well with you. Though your life had been one downhill spiral since all the shit that kicked you off your shining life trajectory, you had never done anything illegal. If you didn’t count misdemeanor battery. Which you didn’t. You only punched assholes who deserved it. And you were fairly sure this Nevada Ramirez character deserved it. You didn’t trust him, and you did not take well to being shaken down.
But then he said people underestimated you. His eyes were the color of the sky before thunder: bright, ominous, and flashing dangerously. And when he said it, his bright eyes locked straight onto yours, like he knew. For the first time in your life, it felt like someone was seeing you, the deepest parts of you, and actually liked what he saw.
You didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. It was either accept the job, or have some drug kingpin sic his enforcers on you for your last dollar. 
“What do you need me to do?”
• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •
Tags: @beccabarba  @caked-crusader @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @dianilaws @permanentlydizzy @eclecticreader2020   @mrsrafaelbarba​ @da-po 
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maggyme13 · 3 years
Text
Sugar (16/?)
AN; I am sorry for the long delay (again) but Work was hell and still is..
I also apologize if this chapter seems out of place; i simply haven´t written in a long while for this story, so please forgive me for that and any mistakes I made as well... I might edit it later.
Warnings:  none (?)
Wordcount: around 2000
Masterlist
Sugar- Masterlist
Part 15
It was christmas eve  that you finally were allowed to leave  the hospital under the condition to be closely monitored by your friends.
“Now that you are free again, what do you want to do.”, Sam teased.
“Burger. I need some meat!”, you groaned, even with Loki´s ´Luxurious´-hospital charge, the food had been mediocre.
“If that is what you want.”, Loki hummed, trying to hold Hati back from attacking you with kisses, “The ones of the local diner are alright, I heard.”
“Yes, they really are.”
“Good, then we will go and have lunch there.”, the CEO decided.
“And then I want to go and see Ma.”, you stated with a nod.
“Of course. But I can send Thor to retrieve her and joins us for lunch.”
“Na. I will go and see her. There are things I have to discuss -things that should not be spoken of publicly.”
“Again, if that is what you wish.”, Loki breathed into your ear, “But I will join you. No arguments.”
A shiver went down your spine and you nodded, “okay.”
“Boss!”, Sam called out from ahead, “I just called the diner and reserved a table fro everyone. We have three hours before they close for Christmas.”
“Thak you Wilson. You lot heard him, hurry up your lazy asses.”, the last part was more of a laughter and everyone piled into the cars.
The diner was already filled with families and small groups of friends, when the five of you and two dogs entered.
“You must be Mr Wilson. Please follow me. There is a small table I was able to reserve for you. As you can imagine we have a lot to do today. So please except my apology for any trouble.”
“It´s alright.”, you smiled, “We came on a rather short notice. Please don´t stress yourself.”
“Thank you Miss. Please, take a seat and have a look on our menue. I will be back in a bit to take your order.”
“Thank you, Anne.”, Bucky winked, sending her away with a shy smile.
“I will take the Double Cheese with Onions, jalapenos, extra bacon, fries and Soda.”, you declared after a quick glance at the menu.
“For me it will be the ´Meatlover´s` with Fries and Soda.”, Thor exclaimed with his stomach agreeing.
“Same for me, only with potato wedges instead of fries.”, Bucky hummed.
“I am gonna eat the wings with fries.”, that was Sam.
“I think I will take the Mac´n´Cheese.”, the dark haired CEO hummed, “And some baked-apple-pie ad dessert.”
It took Anne fifteen minutes to return to your table and another five to take the order, because Hati and Skali kept begging for attention by the waitress.
“I will be back as soon as possible with your orders. Just give me a few minutes to get you your drinks.”
“Thank you Anne.”, you grinned.
-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-
The food was delicious and after around one hour your little group was finished.
“Here is the check, Sir.”, Anne said, “Do you want to play cash or using card?”
“Cash, if that is alright with you.”
“It is fine by me.”
“Good. This is for the food.”, Loki said, handing over some money, “And this is for your excellent service, and this for the people in the kitchen.”, another two 100 Bills landed in the girls hand, who in return was lost for words.
“Uh-uhuh. Th-Th- Thank you, Sir. But this is far too much. I – I can´t take this.”, she spluttered and you piped in.
“Yes, you can. And believe me: If you don´t take this money now, he will find a way for you to get this somehow. He doesn´t take ´no´ for an answer.”
“Uhm. This… Thank you so much, Sir. God bless you!”, she almost squealed.
“It´s fine. Have a Merry Christmas!”
She thanked him once more when she closed the door of the diner behind them.
.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-
“Are you sure you want to do this?”, Bucky asked one last time before turning into the parking lot of Teller-Morrows.
“Yes.”, you spoke with determination in your voice.
“Well then. We will stay at the cars, you know what to do if you need our help.”
“Rosebutt”., you nodded.
“Rosebutt.”, the security nodded back in union.
“Looks like we were already found out.”, Thor stated, nodding to the entrance of the clubhouse where multiple bikers had already gathered, including your brother and his brothers Tig and Kozik.
Stepping out of the cars, you noticed the way the biker´s tensed statures changed once they realized it was you, to a more relaxed. And most of them even left to go inside.
Anger rose in your heart with every step to took towards your brother, and being usually calm and not known for using physical force, a round of surprise noised were heard all around. You had punched your brother in the face, hurting yourself in the process, but also (hopefully) hurting him while bringing your point across.
“Fuck you Happy Lowman!”, you growled, shaking out your hand, “Fuck you and your stupid way of thinking! Damn that hurt. I hope I broke your nose.”
You did not. You were not even sure that this punch had hurt him at all, but at least he was looking down ashamed.
“You heard that? Or did your Boss tell you?”, he grumbled.
“I heard you. For real? I can understand why you did what you did. At least when I was younger. But I am sure, you could have explained everything once I was, what, maybe 18 or just before I left to study? Did you think me this stupid?”
“You ain´t stupid and don´t ever believe someone who claims you are!”, he growled with so much love in your voice you nearly laughed.
“I know I am not! But seriously? Do you know what I had to go through because I believed I was alone and did not want to pull Ma into my trouble? When I thought I had nowhere to go? When I had to live on the streets!  When I was fucking harassed my a swine of a man. When I was sure I would end up in jail? And don´t even think about going into full big-brother mode or something! You lost that right up until the point of a few days ago! But you may have it now, if you stop being an asshole from now on and more of a brother. I do not forgive you right now, but maybe I will in the future. For now I am happy to maybe start anew?”
“ I would like that.”, he nodded, “And I really am sorry. For everything.”
“Good. You do deserve a broken nose though!”, you grumbled, “Where is Ma?”
“In the clubhouse. Hasn´t spoken to me really since I send you away. Deserved that.”
“Yes you did. And before this goes further: how the heck do you know about the account? No one knows about that!”
“I have my informants. Though they never told me about what you had just told me.”, he rumbled, “If anything like that happens again, call me. And I mean it- I will ride my harley to that damn city if I must.”
“Mhm… And you-”, you pointed at your mother who had just joined the two of you,”- don´t you ever be angry or disappointed because I don´t tell you thinks. And do never argue with me if I want to buy you things or help with stuff. If I didn´t know that bafoon of a brother as well as I do, I would be more than disappointed with you not telling me all of this shit. But alas, as we all are as stubborn as they come, there is no need to argue. It was what it was and what done is is done. No need to fret over thinks that can´t be changed anymore.”
Your mother smiled, “God help me with such stubborn children.”
“And us with such a stubborn mother.”, the two of you hummed in union.
“I am sorry to interrupt this moment.”, Loki´s voice suddenly piped up, “May I suggest having some pie or other baked goods together? To celebrate this?”
“And I have just the right cake for this in the fridge. If you have a place. We have a deal, Mr Laufeyson.”, your mother exclaimed and you knew there would be no other choice now, not that you would have wanted.
“As a matter of fact, I have. I am sure your brother is aware of the address. “
“Yeah.”, the brother in question grumbled.
“Good. You go ahead. I will get myself and the cake ready and Happy will drive us there. Say 4pm?”
“My pleasure.”, Loki nodded and offered you his arm, that you happily took.
“We will take care of everything else.”, the CEO smiled his charismatic smile.
“See you later Ma, Happy.”, with these words you allowed Loki to escort you back to the cars.
-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-
The five of you had returned to New York two days later and were now in the middle of planning how the lot of you would celebrate  New Years Eve.
As you learned, there was usually a big Party at the Bifrost, because of that every one of the friends group was able to celebrate together while still being at work.
“Are there any rules on what to wear?”, you asked Loki one evening while cooking dinner, as he was sitting at the table looking at some designs for a new collection.
“Whatever you like. You could go naked for all I care, but then I would suggest having a private gathering with only the two of us.”, amusement and a bit of flirting was in his voice.
“Maybe after the official part. For now I just need to know if there will be others apart from us at the VIP or if there will be -others.”, you asked again, turning towards the CEO over your shoulder.
“If you are hinting at someone like Quill, then don´t worry your beautiful head of. Our Area of the VIP lounge will be private and separated from the rest. There will be no unwanted attention.”
“That´s exactly what I was hinting at.”, you poked out your tongue, “But seriously, I am representing you and whatever I do will reflect on you and your business. I don´t want to do something wrong or disappoint.”
Having stated this, you turned your attention back to the food, so you did not realized the man hat gotten up from his seat and stepped beside you.
His hands reassuringly caressing your shoulders and arms, he spoke with the warm tone you loved so much.
“No matter what you do, you can not do anything that would reflect badly on me. That is not who you are and even so, I don´t care what others think of you.”
“Maybe.”, you hummed.
“What else is troubling your mind. It is not only the question on what to wear.”, he stated, his arms snaking around your middle.
A deep sight left your chest and you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace.
“I haven´t repaid you for the other night.”, you mumbled, the slight feeling of guilt had been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days. Just as Loki himself you liked to take care of those that are important to you, and so having been brought to a release without your partner finding one had you feeling that way.
“That night was about you and what you need. Not what I need. And trust me, I have just as much enjoyed that night as you did. Just because I did not came to a release, does not mean I got nothing out of it. I got you and that is far more important than any release you could have given me. You gave me your trust.”, he hummed, his nose buried into your hair.
But still…
“Now, may I ask what is for dinner?”
“Chilli.”
Part 17
AN 2.0.
REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)
Thank you very much.
~MaggY
Taglists:
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@thankyouforanonymity​  @punkrockhufflefluff​
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Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.
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daniellesimagines · 4 years
Text
❀❀ a list of lines from every single work-in-progress to be linked later when i actually post them just bc i’m bored ❀❀
ashton irwin
And I get that it may seem obviously to other people, but... I’m not watching this on TV and you’re not here and I don’t know what people are saying about me being my back
If she’s not back by sunset, I’m leaving camp to look for her. And if something happened to her, you’re dead
I don’t care about what everyone else will say -- I care about you and your safety, so you can either stay with me at my place until everything with him is sorted out or I can sleep on your couch, but I am not leaving you alone
She deserves better than that, Ashton! She deserves better than you!
I’m a burden on everybody! That’s why I’m here -- that’s why they threw me in a mental hospital and left!
Nothing ever means anything to you anyway
She’s still my ex! Just because she ‘needed help’ doesn’t make it less weird!
Remember how you said if I needed anything, you’d do it...? C-Can I just have a hug?
You fucking heard me. Stop the fucking car
I’m not dating your ex. I asked her out if that’s what you mean
Maybe you could argue that ‘just friends’ do that too, but it’s not ‘just friends’ when Ashton does it for you
I just... I can’t...handle losing someone right after I almost lost you
Are you tall enough to ride the merry-go-round at the fair by yourself?
I’m all for taking credit for my work, but I’m not taking credit for this because 1) I didn’t do it, and 2) it’s sloppy as hell
She clearly needs someone right now and unfortunately for me, she chose you
I’ve heard your friends talking... I know no one thinks he’s still alive
I may be desperate for money, but I’m not selling my body for some rich, entitled frat guys to jack off to!
If you want to be embarrassed, that’s fine, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to you berate yourself like this
Those spirits at the prison we investigated a couple weeks ago really liked you
awsten knight
What could possibly be so hard for her?! She’s a Princess, for Christ’s sake!
Can’t imagine keeping everything bottled up is any easier than letting someone in
calum hood
I know you don’t like her, but telling her she’s not allowed to hug me around you is fucking ridiculous
Do you make it a habit to spy on people or am I just today’s lucky winner?
You can’t lie just to get me there -- I would have gone anyway
I’m not lying to Calum; I’m just not telling him how I feel
You know how you said I should be falling in love instead of living in that house...? I’m glad it’s gonna be with you
How am I meant to have fun with him around?
You wouldn’t do the things you do if you really loved me
When you’re not here, it’s easier to pretend you still love me
I have a question -- why is that guy looking at his corn dog like that?
Please don’t make me say it again -- the first time was embarrassing enough
If he knew he was going to meet you, he never would have told her those things
I can guarantee you that baby’s not his
I never stopped wanting you either
He wouldn’t have dumped me if he was still in love with me
If you were getting tired of me, you could have just said so
Always knew I’d cry if I met you guys -- just didn’t think this would be the reason
I can’t just not pay you for watching my dog for 5 months
Will you at least let me know what it’s like to kiss you?
Do you know how weird it is to have feelings for your boss?
If they want nothing to do with you, then I want nothing to do with them
Secrets don’t stay that way forever; They all have to come out eventually
He keeps asking if he can call you Mummy
It’s heartbreaking in all the right places
I told you getting the blonde put into your hair was a bad idea
cody carson
The day you get something different from Starbucks is the day I let Pistol sleep in your bedroom
At least I’ve never lied when I told you I love you
Wait, someone tried to kidnap that little girl on your lap?
dacre montgomery
My worst nightmare is disappointing Steve Irwin
damien haas
Am I even on this show right now? Is this all just some freakishly realistic dream?
harry styles
Would you have apologized if your daughter hadn’t made you?
Daddy doesn’t love me anymore
Since when are you afraid of getting rejected? 
jamie follese
I can’t help when I disappear! The cake batter calls to me and I must answer her!
He asks if I love you all the time even though I always say yes
I think I could talk my way out of jail
louis tomlinson
Nothing’s ever scared me more than the thought of losing you
luke hemmings
If I’m feeling this bad about meeting his friends, I don’t know what I’m gonna do when he wants to tell the fans
We’re only here for a few days; You’re just going to have to deal with sharing a bed until we leave
We made a bet on which one of you would confess your feelings first
Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he still needed to
She closes the store alone tonight -- you didn’t hear it from me
How many strings did my husband have to pull for this?
She doesn’t even want him! She’s only with him because she knows I do!
You know I don’t like when you do this to yourself
I got my ass handed to me by an 11-year-old and her Pokemon master of an aunt
I have nightmares almost every night, but I only come in here when they’re about you
She’s a hostage in a bank robbery! Of course I care about her being in there!
You’re by yourself in the stables at 11pm with tears on your face. Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong
Don’t be mad just because your siblings love me more than they love you
You know that means nothing to me! Stop bragging about having colors!
Even I’m not heartless enough to leave you without a dance partner
marshall traver
Nobody is alone -- not even in this world
You’re only apologizing because I’m the Princess; You wouldn’t be if I were a nobody
maxx danziger
I told him you hate water; I told him and he decided to try and throw you in anyway
Too used to blowing me off on the phone, you forgot how to talk to me in person?
I think they deserve a teacher who wants to see them succeed
If she’s still wearing her ring, she’s clearly not ready to date other people
You’re staying even though my dad’s an idiot, right?
We’re gonna circle back to the fetish thing later because I don’t believe you don’t have one for a second
michael clifford
Wouldn’t want you to stay longer than you have to just because of me
If you never say ‘I love you’ back to me, that’s completely okay
You’ve been crying, kitten; I can tell
Is there any point when you’re not going to be useless to us?
You fired her because you’re in love with her?!
What can I say? His parents are raising him right
Don’t even think about touching my brother again
Hit me like you mean it
Last day of camp -- won’t be able to do this until next summer
I know you paid my rent
Nothing would piss off that asshole more than getting the girl he wants
Since when would he jump at the chance to defend me?
I know you’ve seen how different he is with me now
The first thing I heard when I woke up was ‘I wish that I could wake up with amnesia and forget about the stupid little things’ and I did 
Unlike the girls you sleep with, I actually like being with a guy who can make me cum
It can’t possibly get worse than the hell you’re living right now
I love Michael... Oh my God... Ashton, I’m in love with Michael
Please bless us with this work of art
The only good thing about this tie is that it’s blocking some of the brightness from how pale you are
Why do you even have this song on cassette in the first place?!
She’s safe -- that’s all I’m allowed to say
How did two 11-year-olds manage to pull off the biggest switch ever?
You know they’re not going to let you marry me
I’m not a stranger to staying with people who treat me poorly
If I can handle you, I think I’m prepared for pretty much anything
You make Mumma forget about him and be happy and I like when Mumma’s happy
You said you weren’t going to let go of me
Can you write a song telling your soulmate to be less depressing? It’s really starting to worry me
I’m not stupid; I’ve seen your face -- I know I’m not getting out of this alive
I can either push past you or you can let me go, but I am going to go kiss my wife whether I have your permission or not
Not the worst injury I’ve ever had and definitely won’t be the last
This is not who I expected to be kissing when I put this dress on
ryan follese
Best of luck with your engagement to the Princess
I can’t put myself in a relationship I know won’t last
spencer reid
I didn’t marry a profiler, Spencer! I married you!
Any of us would have gone in to save your daughter -- it just happened to be me this time
tom holland
I know you love me, Tom -- I know you do... But it hurts that you don’t want other people to know it too...
trevor collins
I kinda wanted to wait and see if you were actually real before I said anything...
You may not be irreplaceable to the company, but you’re irreplaceable to me
I know you’re not sick; I know you just said it because you wanted to leave work early
zach dewall
I told you they were gonna be angry when they said it...
15 notes · View notes
asfeedin · 4 years
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What it’s like being hired, fired or unemployed as a top manager
Sacking a football manager takes minutes. Months of stress and grind are reduced to a brief conversation and lawyers looking at a handful of termination provisions. Then comes the uncertainty.
There is no rulebook for how you deal with being fired by a club or when the time is right to get back into football’s rat race. There are sleepless nights and the occasional slump into depression and frustration. Then comes introspection, then the itch to prove doubters wrong, and before the manager knows it, he is back in the hot seat, defending himself.
The manager market is now on hiatus due to the coronavirus pandemic. The betting markets on which manager will be fired next — the so-called sack race — are paused, and those in the hot seats are spending their days using video conferencing tools and trying to plan for the future. All the while, the out-of-work coaches are sitting at home waiting for the managerial merry-go-round to start spinning again.
“Nine times out of 10, after leaving a job you need a break,” Alan Pardew told ESPN.
Pardew has managed six teams in the Premier League — Newcastle United, Crystal Palace, West Ham, Charlton Athletic, West Bromwich Albion and Southampton — and is now in charge at Dutch Eredivisie side ADO Den Haag, a job he took 20 months after leaving West Brom in April 2018.
“We are constantly under pressure. It’s difficult to have a nice time, you know, if results are bad or you’re feeling the heat,” Pardew said. “So yeah, that’s the first phase after a job.
“The first sort of five weeks [after being sacked], you really take very little interest in football. The second phase is you start analysing what you did that either went well or went wrong and trying to make sense of what happened, if you want to call it that.
“The third phase is OK, rebuild. Let’s start thinking about how we’re going to go back in and, you know, what we’d change, staff and ideas and stuff like that. And then you get your motivation. You get approached, and you think, you know what?  Let’s have a go at this.”
“We’re human beings. If you stick a knife in us, we bleed. You know that, right?” Sam Allardyce said, reflecting on the pain of losing a job you love. “People think we’re superhuman, and we don’t feel or we don’t bleed or we don’t react … Of course we do.”
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Allardyce is one of the most experienced and well respected managers in England, having taken charge at West Ham, Newcastle, Crystal Palace, Everton and Bolton Wanderers. He garnered a reputation for helping troubled teams escape relegation from the Premier League. He left his last managerial role with Everton in May 2018. That left a bitter taste, and he hasn’t managed anywhere since, despite fielding numerous offers both abroad and in England, including from Newcastle United and Watford.
“If you think you deserve to get sacked, then you accept it’s your responsibility, but when you don’t — and obviously, I truly believe I did not deserve to [get] sacked at Everton — then you’ve got a bitter disappointment to get over,” Allardyce told ESPN. “In the early days of my career, after getting sacked you’re wondering how you’re going to carry on in life — or I did, anyway. How am I gonna cope? What am I going to do? 
“You have to get over it because there’s one thing in football you can’t do: You can’t linger over the past.”
Since the Premier League began in 1992, Newcastle United is the club with the highest turnover of managers. Current boss Steve Bruce is their 23rd in 28 years. The 2008-09 and 2017-18 campaigns were the most turbulent for managers, with Premier League clubs changing their top dogs 15 times in two seasons. Sackings have become more frequent since the advent of the big-money, high-pressure environment of the Premier League. In the inaugural 1992-93 season, there were six manager changes. But with the league now halted after 29 games due to COVID-19, this is, to date, the least cutthroat season since 2005-06, with only six managerial changes.
From 1998 to 2018, a head coach was hired every 2.4 seasons in the NBA, every 2.6 in the NHL and every 3.4 in the NFL. At present in the Premier League, seven of the 20 teams have managers who have been at the club for more than two years.
Pardew’s emotions after leaving a team were dependent on his exit.
“The first focus is being realistic about the decision,” he said. “You have to face that first. Family and friends are very important at that stage. You need that support and confidence they have in you to rebuild.”
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There have been departures after which Pardew felt “the board were hasty and should have been more patient, and other times where it was the right decision for all involved.” Looking back, talking from Surrey after his return to his family during the coronavirus lockdown, he feels his Newcastle departure came at the right time. “I think the owner felt it was probably right, and we went, ‘OK, it was a good run, we’re done, let’s move on.’ That was the best-case scenario.
“There is no departure that is exactly the same, I found,” he said. “But certainly, I still carry no bitterness toward anybody in terms of the decisions that were made. They’re made, and you have to get on with it. I think that’s where some managers fall down. They carry it, and you can’t do that. It’s a bit like a bad defeat: You have to bury it pretty quickly and move on to the next game.”
There is a general acceptance by football managers at the top end of the game that when they lose a job, they do not, usually, face financial uncertainty — Antonio Conte was paid a reported £26.2m when he left Chelsea in 2018, and Fabio Capello was said to have collected £10.5m when he parted from Russia in 2015 — but that comes as scant consolation in the early stages. More often than not, the next time we see a sacked Premier League manager is in photographs of him sunning himself on a beach, hiding under a hat in the stands at a game or popping up as a pundit, like Jose Mourinho did after leaving Manchester United.
The pressures for unemployed managers are different at the other end of the football pyramid. Allardyce, Pulis and Pardew have all managed at different levels in the game, and Darrell Clarke is at the start of his journey in League 2.
Clarke was sacked by Bristol Rovers in December 2018 and was appointed manager at League 2 Walsall six months later. “As soon as you leave as manager, and you’re clearing your office, the lads are training as normal,” Clarke told ESPN. “That’s the reality of it. They’re getting on. They’re professionals, and football goes on.”
He says the mental shutdown after leaving a club is massive, as you go from living off pressure to having a huge drop in intensity. He spent the first couple of days talking to his former players, but that became more infrequent as weeks passed. “You’re worried where the next job is going to come along … because as a lower league manager, you definitely have bills and mortgages to pay … so you certainly can’t be out of the game for too long,” Clarke said.
“But you do feel the lack of routine, waking up with no decisions to make. I’ve tried to programme my mind to enjoy pressure because that’s how it is as a football manager. So then to come away from that, the intensity of that, I found it very difficult.
“I’ve never been able to handle losing football games. That’s always felt like a loss in the family. That’s probably a bit of an exaggeration, but I think when you leave your job, certainly you feel very, very low, and you need to try as quickly as you can to pick yourself back up, to reflect, to let yourself get over that disappointment, and it takes a bit of time.”
Tony Pulis and Sam Allardyce are all too familiar with football’s managerial merry-go-round. Clive Mason/Getty Images
Tony Pulis turned to Napoleon Bonaparte for distraction when he left his most recent post with Championship side Middlesbrough in May 2019. After 30 years of management, including spells at Premier League clubs Stoke City, Crystal Palace and WBA, he wanted to see more of his six grandchildren — the seventh is on the way — and develop interests away from football.
“I wanted to give myself the opportunity to open up my mind to everything else that’s going on around my life, do things I’ve wanted to do but never had the time,” he said. “I’ve been a great reader of history and of different leaders, and I wanted to be able to go and see different things. I know I’m very fortunate to be able to afford it and do it.”
He travelled to Corsica in September 2019 to be at a celebration of Napoleon’s 250th birthday.
“I was absolutely fascinated about how he had come from this small island, actually how he was like a foreigner in France and how he picked his way through to being one of the greatest generals really that ever lived,” he said. “You can see that on a positive side or a negative side. I don’t just read the good stuff about him. I read all the bad stuff about him as well. I’ll make my own mind up then.”
Pulis also spent time in South Africa and visited Rorke’s Drift, where he learned about the Anglo-Zulu War. He’s now researching explorer Ernest Shackleton. “He was described as a purposeful leader,” Pulis said. “He wasn’t necessarily an attractive leader but just got the job done.”
Time and age taught Pulis the value of parking disappointment when between jobs and immersing himself in a new footballing project or one of his hobbies. “As you get older, I think you’ve seen most of the stresses and strains,” he said. “You gain experience from it. No one forces you to be a manager. There’s not a gun at your head saying you have to do it. You have to be strong enough and determined enough and understand your own structure as a person and your own strengths and your own weaknesses.”
Allardyce always took a holiday after leaving a club. During the time away, he’d pick through the breakup and come back revitalised — but only after making a series of notes.
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Dan Thomas is joined by Craig Burley, Shaka Hislop and a host of other guests every day as football plots a path through the coronavirus crisis. Stream on ESPN+ (U.S. only).
“You learn from experience. It’s done. It’s dusted. Learn from it. What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? Just dot it down somewhere for the future. I’ve done many notes over the many years on all the jobs that I’ve had, and then you can have a little look at that when you go into a new job and just refresh yourself on what you’re going to do and how you’re going to do it.”
Allardyce used to spend the time between jobs visiting football clubs, but he sees little benefit to that now. “When I go to other football clubs abroad, generally they show you very little, or they don’t really show you the stuff that really matters,” he said. “I think there’s always a fear factor in football, that we should keep more things close to our chest than we actually should.”
Now, he turns to other sports, such as NFL, rugby, Australian rules football and even the Royal Airforce’s aerobatic team, the Red Arrows, to continue his learning.
Pardew spent time between jobs in rugby with Saracens and Eddie Jones, the England manager, while taking advantage of the League Managers Association’s courses. “You don’t want to be left behind, and you want to stay at the forefront of it all,” he said.
For Clarke, after his two-week break post-Bristol Rovers, he spent time with Portsmouth’s Kenny Jackett, who told him to use the time to work on his recruitment for the next job, looking at players and potential backroom staff. “The fact is, there are not really that many managers reinventing the wheel,” Clarke said. “It’s about just refocusing yourself and doing what you do and doing it your own way.”
In the pre-COVID-19 world, when a manager is ready to return, there is an “itchy-feet stage,” according to Allardyce. Then, hopefully, come the approaches and job interviews.
Pardew says there are usually nerves when heading in to meet the board at a prospective new club, but he falls back on his experience and homework.
“It’s your right to represent who you are: This is who I am, what I can offer. This is my history,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever talked any board or owner into taking me. I’ve always been quite frank about how I think the club is and where I think they’re at and what possibly I could bring, and then if, when they make that decision, they think, ‘OK, we’re going to go with you.’ Then the reality sets in for a manager. Then you start getting into the finer details of the contract and what’s the budget gonna be before you actually, you know, say yes or you both say yes.”
Pardew remembers turning down job offers before his head was turned by Eredivisie side ADO Den Haag.
“It was a very, very difficult job, a foreign job, bottom of the league,” he said. “And I’ve enjoyed it, you know, as much as it’s been difficult. I’ve enjoyed it.”
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Quique Setien explains why he won’t be satisfied if Barcelona win the La Liga title by default.
Clarke was “chomping at the bit after six/seven weeks” after leaving Bristol Rovers, and he ended up finding the ideal fit at Walsall. “I’d pulled out of a couple [of other potential jobs]. The Walsall one was very interesting for myself. I knew it was a club run right.” He has been there 11 months, and when football paused, his team were 14th in League 2.
Allardyce and Pulis are in no rush to return.
Allardyce’s disappointment at his exit from Everton encouraged him to take a break. “Several opportunities have come over the last two years that haven’t been right for me, so it’s been turned down,” he said. “As time goes on, those opportunities become less and less, of course. … You soon get forgotten, but that’s not too much of a problem because the longer it goes on the more and more, I seem to be enjoying life, you know, without football.
“You commit your whole soul and your body when you do this job. But because you love it, you do it.
“It’s more and more difficult to take a job because I have to tick so many boxes now to make sure it’s right for me. I might never get them all ticked.”
Allardyce does a radio show for a popular channel. He is still immersed in football — but not in the cutthroat management industry.
Pulis’ perspective is similar. If there’s a game of football being played in the park, he’ll stop and watch, loving every overhit pass and overcooked tackle. But he is enjoying his life away from management.
“My wife will kill me if I say I’m looking for a job again,” he said.
“But now this break has given me a chance to take a breath again and actually smell the roses, instead of walking past and not noticing them. I can now smell them.”
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asktailikku · 6 years
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While I know that Thanksgiving is nearly a week and a half away, my local radio stations have decided to take the opportunity to play Christmas songs, with the big offender being FM 93.9 WLIT.
But rather than rant about how they are jumping the gun, I would like to take this opportunity to talk about two Disney holiday classics released on VHS and DVD on the this very day, five years apart from each other (eventually appearing on a 2-movie Blu-Ray), Mickey’s Once and Twice Upon a Christmas.
Please note that Mickey does not have such a candle in the film
Each of these films are a collection of stories starring Mickey and the gang, each dealing with the holiday hustle and bustle as well as the good warm feelings that make us feel merry.  The first one contains three stories while the second has five.
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The first segment in Once Upon a Christmas is Donald Duck – Stuck on Christmas.  Despite his name being in the title, the story actually focusses on Huey, Dewey, and Louie.  As they spend Christmas Day, they are shocked to see it go by so quickly and wish upon the Evening Star for it to be Christmas every day.
I should bring up that the original “Christmas Every Day” story from 1892 was more of a what if scenario as if the year continued as normal, but every day was Christmas.  On paper this sounded like a good idea, to have it celebrated every day turns out to be a terrible idea as it ends up drying up the proper resources for Christmas.  By July in the story, people are more focussed on Christmas than they are the 4th of July.  And by autumn, people giving presents go from “Here you go, pal” to “Take this and f**k off!”  As it turned out, the endless Christmas celebration was nothing more than a dream.
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Instead, the story borrows more from Groundhog Day starring Bill Murray.  In the film, Bill is stuck in a time loop that haunts him for what seems like centuries, waking up every morning on 2/2/1993.  Only until he undergoes some serious character development does he escape the loop.  In the Nephews’ case, this decades long loop serves as a punishment for them as they do not know the true meaning of Christmas.
It gets to a point where the boys have everything down and in what order, as follows:
Wake up
Open presents
Donald freaks out, drops breakfast on himself
Daisy, Scrooge, and “Aunt Gertie” (her only appearance) arrive
Go sledding
Eat dinner
Sing carols
Go to bed at 10:00 PM
Repeat the next day
Towards the end of the loops, the boys decide to spice things up, similar to Bill’s suicidal loops in the film.  First they ice bomb Chip’n���Dale as their Christmas morning reminder of them playing train was getting annoying.  Then they sent their RC car and plane after Donald before he sets foot in the living room.  When Gerty arrives for kisses, the boys arrive in scuba gear.  By dinner, the roasted turkey has been replaced with a live one, ticking Donald off, and wrecking the piano, cancelling carols.  After the turkey chase, the turkey ends up going up the chimney and in Santa’s outfit. It’s not so much the appearance of the turkey that’s hilarious, it’s the implication that Santa knew that the day was on repeat.  In an attempt to save face, the boys attempt to leave with their sleds, but then read the card that was attatched to one of them, a poem written by Scrooge about the true meaning of Christmas.  The next loop can be seen as something similar to Bill’s philanthropist loops in the film.
In this loop, the nephews use the Junior Woodchucks Guidebook to convert the sleds into a gift for Donald.  When morning comes, they give a bag of nuts to Chip’n’Dale.  They then make Donald breakfast and tell him that they need to wait until the family arrives.  By dinnertime, they eat ham instead of turkey, with the turkey eating with them.  The nephews then reveal their gift to Donald: a snowboat.  The loop ends with Donald and Daisy kissing under the mistletoe.
The next morning turns out to be Boxing Day as Donald wants to give his gift a try, only for it to fall apart as he goes down the hill.
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The next segment is A Very Goofy Christmas, which is an original story with some elements of Miracle of 33rd Street and “Yes Virginia, There is a Santa Claus”.  Goofy and Max (in his very last appearance as a child) are writing letters to Santa and shoveling snow from their driveway and sidewalk.  Pete arrives and insists that “an old guy in a red suit cruising the whole world in one night using reindeer that fly” is practically impossible.  Despite this, Goofy wants to help his son beleive in Christmas magic and the spirit of Old St. Nick, as they have a Christmas Eve dinner with a neighboring poor family.  Dinner goes without a hitch, but then when Goofy tries to act as a department store Santa, things go haywire as Max feels betrayed.
Goofy decides that in order to cheer his son up, not just with Old Stuffed Bear, he’ll prove that Santa exists that night even if he has to stand out in the cold.  After two false alarms (a pug in jingle bells and Big Time Beagle attempting to rob from Pete), Goofy is the one that begins to doubt Santa’s existence and Max is the one that is willing to cheer him up, dressing as Santa like earlier that evening.  As Goofy follows his son up the chimney, they see Santa flying by and dropping Max’s gift into their hands.  Plus some well deserved Karma for Pete.  Max then decides to share his gift with one of the poor kids.
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The final segment is a retelling of O. Henry’s classic tale of The Gift of the Magi.  In this version, Mickey has a harmonica without a case and Minnie has a pocket watch.  Both of them have the intention of getting a gift to compliment their treasure, a chain for the watch and a case for the harmonica.  Mickey’s job at Crazy Pete’s at first seems to be enough to get him the chain, but then when he helps a poor family with a smaller tree rather than a 10-ft Nova Scotia pine that Pete was trying to force upon them, Mickey’s paycheck is confiscated, but needless to say, karma bites Pete again as he accidentally sets his ten-footers ablaze.
On Minnie’s end, her job at Mortimer’s only ended with her getting a fruitcake from her tightwad of a boss (and this was the same Mortimer that has attempted being a casanova time and again, even if it means humiliating Mickey).  Back to Mickey, he participates in a toy drive held in the park to tide over until the Firehouse Five return from putting out the blaze at Crazy Pete’s.  The firecheif compliments Mickey’s harmonica skills and that its worth its weight in gold.  This gives Mickey the idea to trade his harmonica to get the chain.  With the chain in hand, Mickey and Minnie decide to open gifts, only to learn that they traded their treasures to get the other’s gift.
In my head canon, they receive a surprise visitor, the shopkeeper who gives them their original treasures back, claiming them to be new presents altogether.  This is partially based on versions of the story where the shopkeeper is the main character and oversees the exchanges between treasures and gifts, as seen on an episode of Sesame Street with Gordon playing this to Ernie and Bert.
The movie ends with Mickey and the gang singing a medley of carols (Jingle Bells, Deck the Halls, We Wish You a Merry Christmas).
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The first segment on the second movie, now done in CG, is “Belles on Ice”.  This segment was partially inspired by Michelle Kwan’s performance at the Salt Lake City Winter Olympics and her performance as Mulan in “Reflections on Ice”.  The plot involves Minnie and Daisy having a figure skating duel that escalates out of control, with the two of them realizing that their egos got the best of them.  Original concepts for the segment included a parade float contest, a store window display competition and a cooking show bake-off.
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The next segment is “Christmas: Impossible”  The segment begins with Scrooge having Donald, Daisy, and the Nephews over at his mansion (with its own zip-code) to celebrate the holidays.  On Christmas Eve, the nephews cause a ruckus, which leads to Scrooge talking to them about cleaning up their act if they ever want to get on Santa’s Nice List, of which he is not.
I should bring up that there was one thing he always wnated from Santa but never got: a set of bagpipes.
A little problem with that Mr. McDee, you made yourself a set before you emigrated from Scotland to America and even used it against Ma Beagle.  And of course these pipes predate the Number One Dime.
Anyways, with this plothole out of the way.
The nephews decide that the best way to get on the nice list is to head to Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole and write their names on it.  After finding the list room locked and getting the key from Santa’s office (the original script called for an ice cave with a hungry polar bear swimming about), they are about to head in there and set things right for themselves when they lose the key in a pile of fake keys belonging to a key themed toy
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In when brainstorming ideas about the toy in question, the animators pitched at least ten ideas, nine of which are seen above.  My personal favorites being Key-to-My-Heart Kate, Dog Pound Pals, and Who-Dini the Owl.  The winner of the contest was Jailbreak Bob only because of Jeff Bennet’s demo reel as him (“Lemme out, see?”) proved to be the coolest.
One thing leads to another as the boys accidentally gum up the progress made by the elves, almost ruining Christmas, with the elves comparing this to the “Sleigh Crash of ’64”.  The nephews decide to help fix this mess and escape back to the list room, keyless (Santa took it back having assumed to have lost it), but end up sneaking into the list room behind the janitor.
Pulling up Duckburg on the monitors, they find that they are indeed not on the list, but instead write Scrooge’s name on there.  The next morning, they find tons of presents for them, including a Jailbreak Bob (“Be good this year, see?  And have a Merry Christmas!”), the Idiot’s Guide to Manners, and a new set of bagpipes for Scrooge, ending the segment with Santa sending a letter saying that “there’s always room on the Nice List for those who think of other first,” and Scrooge playing Deck the Halls on his new pipes, very badly.
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The third segment is more or less a montage called “Christmas Maximus”.  This more or less follows Max (now in his 20’s) and his new girlfriend Mona, spending the holidays at Goofy’s after leaving from college, with Goofy trying hard not to embarass Max, and eventually strengthening the bond between the two of them.  In a rather interesting move, Mona is voiced by Kellie Martin, who voiced Roxanne in the original Goofy Movie.
Next is Donald’s Gift, and I can tell you one thing from listening to “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” over and over again.
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Donald is not amused.  All he wants is some peace and quiet and a piping cup of hot chocolate.  Daisy and the nephes arrive to take them shopping at Mousy’s, but Donald doesn’t want any of it.  But he is forced to regardless.
Donald finds a cocoa stand and gets a big cup of it.  This is where things get wierd as every noise he hears throughout the department store is in sync to “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”, culminating in him ending up in the black-lit display window playing the same song.  In his rage, he destroys it but is shamed upon by his family and thrown out by security (“Fer cryin’ out loud, where’s yer Christmas spirit!”)
Trudging home, Donald comes across an uncoordinated group of carollers trying to sing the song.  Donald takes over conducting and together, they produce a beautiful harmony that draws in all the townsfolk.  Soon the crowd draws in Daisy and the boys, who see Donald finally showing some Christmas spirit. Donald apologizes and joins in on the singing, making sure to sing from his heart.
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The final segment is Mickey’s Doggone Christmas.  In this story, Mickey is trying to set up a party with Pluto, but Pluto accidentally causes a powersurge which not only ruins the set up that Mickey had, but gets him sent to the dog house.  Mickey then heads out on his own to fix the damage in time for the party, all while dealing with a crazy snowplow truck.  Pluto decides that enough is enough and runs away, taking the next train behind his backyard.
The train ends up taking Pluto to the North Pole, where he sees Santa’s reindeer training for the big night.  The main two deer of the special are Dunder and Blitzen (voiced by Jeff Bennet and Jim Cummings respectively).  As Pluto is not wearing his collar, Dunder decides to adopt him as “Murray,” as in “Murry Christmas” *faceplam*
Mickey returns home to find that Pluto ran off and calls his friends to rally a search party.  “Murray” meanwhile is hacing fun with the team, but soon feels homesick.  Mickey meanwhile has been handing out fliers of his missing bloodhound, and soon takes his request up with a mall Santa, revealed to be the real deal and from “Christmas:  Impossible”.  Santa tells Dunder and Blitzen that Pluto is homesick, and is prepared to take him back to Mickey.
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The movie ends with Mickey and Pluto reunited as the gang arrives in the snowplow truck.  As it happened, when Minnie heard Mickey’s call, she made calls to the rest of the gang, with Scrooge buying a snowplow company to aid in the search, Goofy happened to be the running gage snowplow.  All together, they sing the medley from the previous film as the film comes to a close.  This ending seems to imply that this was going to be the last part of an ongoing story where Mickey and Pluto were setting up for the party and each decoration brought up a different memory, leading into the stories.  This would also help explain why the “Angry Man” appears in each segment, as well as the elves and Dunder mentioning the Sleigh Crash of ’64.
All in all, despite what Rotten Tomatoes may think, these two movies are the perfect holiday experience for fans old and new as well as friends and family alike.
Mickey’s Nth Upon a Christmas While I know that Thanksgiving is nearly a week and a half away, my local radio stations have decided to take the opportunity to play Christmas songs, with the big offender being FM 93.9 WLIT.
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a-simp-20 · 3 years
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AIB cast,Random Conversations #7
Fanta: *playing with Misao*
Misao: *playing with Fanta*
Tao in her Usagi costume: *gasp* Misao!,don't play with the psycho's dog! *grabs Misao*
Dori in his Niragi costume: hey!,look what you did!..Fanta is sad now that he doesn't have a friend! :(
Tao: what if your dog harasses my dog like you almost harassed me!?
Dori: women oh my god we were shooting a series..and I spayed him okay don't get your hopes up!
Shuntaro in his last boss costume holding merry: so..does that mean Merry can play with Misao-
Tao: NO!
Dori holding Fanta: YES! GRAB THE DOG'S QUICK-
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First Name Basis
My contribution to the sci-fi round of @daficswap! For @nyctalis, featuring her and @noctvrnis‘ OC, Lloyd Trevelyan. 
Mass Effect 2 AU, in which Commander Lloyd of the Normandy SR2 and Cerberus crew member Dorian Pavus finally decide there might be more to their relationship than playful banter...
Approx 3000 words. Contains fluff, humour, and a little alone time... (pretty much SFW though) <3
“Dorian, how’s the IES?”
“Doing well enough, as far as concealing a giant tub of metal hurtling through the vacuum of space goes.”
Lloyd sighed, but couldn’t quite fight off the smile that crept across his face as he glanced back towards the dark-haired man. Dorian, their resident Biotic Researcher – who also just happened to be both a biotic and a researcher - was leaning forward, peering at one of the many monitors that lined the hub. The orange glow of the screen warmed his skin, and those keen grey eyes flicked back and forth, reading measurements and system reports with the ease of a politician scanning headlines for mention of his own name.
“Funny,” Dorian continued, straightening up and placing his hands on his hips, still distracted by the on-screen analytics, “how no one is alarmed by the fact that our entire stealth system could be foiled by someone looking out the window. Quite the oversight, yes?”
“I don’t know,” Lloyd replied, purposely drawing out the words in an effort to tease. “Not many out here bother to stop and enjoy the view. We humans seem more ah… concerned with that.”
Dorian looked over his shoulder, brow arched, and the intent behind Lloyd’s comment was made all too clear by his line of sight, which was fixated firmly on the curves of Dorian’s posterior. In Lloyd’s defense, the standard issue uniform left very little to the imagination for everyone aboard the Normandy SR2. Part of Lloyd assumed it was some kind of Cerberus conspiracy; a way to test the crew’s ability to maintain eye-contact with one another during conversations. A true trial by fire if ever there was one, considering how quickly Dorian had nudged his way to the front of Lloyd’s mind despite his reservations. It was always the little things; a quip here, a gesture there. Observations missed by the rest of the crew. Dorian had a kind of presence that demanded attention, but also deserved it. He was bright in more ways than one, and Lloyd often found himself simply listening with a half-drawn smile as the man talked about his research with more passion than a krogan waiting to undertake the Rite.
“Well, happy to be of service,” Dorian replied offhandedly, although the smirk on his face led Lloyd to believe that distraction had been a part of his plan from the very start. “And here I thought you’d never be able to see past my employer.”
The suddenness of the comment caught Lloyd off-guard, and he stared at Dorian for a long moment, not quite sure of what to say. It was true enough, really. The Illusive Man had placed him in a situation that was leagues away from ideal, but at the same time, it was Cerberus that had kept him alive. The organisation he had spent so long thwarting had given him a second chance at life, even if much of that chance revolved around his compliance with a plan that remained half veiled in secrecy. But more than anything, he hated being commanded around the galaxy like a dog trapped in a perpetual game of fetch with a ball he could neither see nor catch.
But he also hated that he’d made that dislike so obvious to someone he was finding more and more alluring with each passing day.
“You know I’m no fan of Cerberus or the Illusive Man,” Lloyd said. He reached up, cracking his knuckles absently as he continued to talk beneath that quartz-grey stare. “But it’s… different. Somehow. Your boss is pretty much what I expected, but you? Miranda? Jacob?” He shook his head, letting out a tight, frustrated sigh. “It would have made things a lot less confusing if you’d all been a merry bunch of assholes, you know. So… thanks for that.”
Responding with a laugh, Dorian folded his arms and cocked his head to the side, regarding Lloyd with a fetching mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Why, anything to keep it interesting! But to set your mind at ease, I am willing to don a dark cloak and twirl my mustache more often. Perhaps even throw in a villainous monologue here and there, provided you make it worth my while.”
“Worth your while, huh?” Lloyd caught on to those last few words faster than he’d ever caught on to anything in his life. “So a trade, then?”
“Naturally.” Dorian pressed his fingertips to his chest in an emphatic gesture of hurt. “Surely you don’t believe I would go to such lengths for nothing. I am a busy man, you know.” He punctuated his words with a sweep of his palm towards the row of monitors. “These screens won’t read themselves.”
“I’m pretty sure we have an AI for that.”
“Oh come now, we all know EDI is about two miss-clicks away from dooming us all to a life of robotic servitude.”
“I heard that,” responded a disembodied female voice, wringing a laugh out of both Dorian and Lloyd as they stood facing each other in the corridor.
“Ah, I mean no disrespect, of course,” Dorian added hastily, raising his hands in front of him as if to fend off a disagreeable varren. “Although I imagine listening to our beloved pilot wax-poetic at you would require a resolve of steel.”
“Partially correct. My core is approximately 18.98% steel, 28.1% titanium, 8.75% alu—”
“—Yes, thank you EDI,” Lloyd interrupted quickly, a smile still tugging incessantly at the corner of his lips. The AI seemed to accept his words as a polite dismissal – a fact that Lloyd found both intriguing and alarming – and ceased to respond further. Meeting Dorian’s gaze, they both raised their brows in unison, then succumbed to the urge to chuckle at the awkwardness of the exchange.
“It’s strange, knowing that you’re being watched all the time,” Lloyd noted quietly, although he doubted the volume of his voice would make much difference in the matter.
“A mite uncomfortable, agreed.” Dorian paused thoughtfully, then wet his lips with his tongue. The movement was almost subconscious, but spoke to a measure of nervousness that hovered behind the next words he spoke. “Perhaps we could... continue our conversation elsewhere? Surely there is a place aboard this ship with even a scant amount of privacy.”
Just as Lloyd opened his mouth to reply, EDI’s voice sounded again, buzzing from the nearby intercoms.
“The areas I do not monitor include: all bathrooms and showers, crew sleeping quarters, the Commander’s private—”
“— That’ll do,” Lloyd declared, and he smirked, gesturing down the corridor towards the elevator. “Shall we, then?”
Dorian’s mouth slid into a pleased smile of his own, the expression leaving Lloyd strangely breathless, as though his uniform was suddenly too tight around the neck.
“Indeed, we shall.”
“Well, I am certainly glad you care more about your crew than your fish.”
Lloyd grimaced, reaching up to rub his neck awkwardly. He was sweating slightly, his shoulder-length brown hair damp against the back of his moving hand. It had nothing to do with the temperature of the Normandy, which EDI maintained at a perfectly comfortable level unless she was teaching Joker a lesson in consequences. Rather, it had to do with his company, and the fact that they, for what felt like the first time, were truly alone.
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have got those,” he admitted sheepishly, eying the colourful array of upside-down bodies bobbing near the top of the tank. “By the time I drag myself up here the only thing on my mind is passing out on the bed.”
“Indeed, only to be woken up by alarms, no doubt,” Dorian noted. “Feeding fish is quite a low priority, I imagine, under such trying circumstances.”
Lloyd snorted in agreement at that, turning away from the tank. Dorian had already moved on, wandering the space of his private quarters like a curator admiring a new exhibit. His footsteps rang softly off the metallic floor, rhythmic and soothing in a manner that was unique to him in a way Lloyd couldn’t quite explain. Pausing, Dorian leaned forward to examine an empty frame on Lloyd’s desk.
“Quite the odd choice,” he mused, picking it up and turning towards Lloyd, holding it in the air pointedly. “I take it there is no deep significance to the empty frame, yes? Or at least, I certainly hope there isn’t, lest I fulfill your expectations of all Cerberus members being... what was it? A merry bunch of assholes?”
Lloyd laughed, strolling over to stand just behind him. “No, no meaning,” he said with a smile at Dorian’s artful backpedaling. “I just haven’t really found something to fill it yet.” He paused thoughtfully, then nodded back towards the tank. “I don’t suppose a picture of dead fish would fit the room’s décor, would it?”
“If you wished to kill the mood as well, then by all means.” Dorian chuckled, shaking his head as he replaced the frame on the table with the soft clink of metal on metal. “Although, and forgive me for saying so, you hardly strike me as the type to invite someone to your quarters for no reason, Commander.”
“Lloyd.”
The comment seemed to catch Dorian by surprise. He turned, regarding Lloyd for a time, as if leafing through a thousand-page manual on protocol in his mind, hunting for the appropriate response. Then, with just as much enthusiasm, he seemed to mentally toss the tome aside and straightened, meeting the Commander’s green eyes as he did so. They held one another’s gaze in a way that would have made more sense had it been accompanied by a firm hand-shake. Instead a few feet of empty air separated them, and Lloyd became acutely aware of it. Acutely aware of his increasing desire to breach it in a single purposeful step.  
“... Lloyd,” Dorian repeated eventually, slowly, as if testing the word and finding its shape pleasing on his tongue. His lips curved into a smile that was surprisingly soft, and Lloyd found his heart hurrying to applaud its presence with a flurry of eager beating. Dorian continued, and while he kept his tone relatively light, there was a hesitance that trailed the words like a late-afternoon shadow. “I... take it that is a privilege reserved for these more private occasions?”
Ah. Lloyd’s first instinct was to raise his brows in surprise, but he knew better than to take offense at the comment. After all, they both held very specific roles aboard the ship, and Dorian’s hesitation was by no means a personal sleight. But at the same time, Lloyd sensed his response had the potential to rip apart whatever was building between them like wet paper in careless fingers. A part of him wanted to take a moment to weigh up his options. To think things through, utilising the full capacity of his already clever mind to find the right answer. The answer Dorian wanted to hear.
Instead, he found his lips moving before he even had a chance to consult his brain for input.
“Reserved? No. Not at all.” Betrayed by his own rogue mouth, Lloyd had little choice but to commit to its obvious implication. He smiled and stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them, aware that Dorian was caught between him and the table that housed the empty frame. Knowing this, he did not push too far, and left more than enough room for a hasty apology regarding misread intentions to slide between them should it desire. “I think it would suit us both to be on first name basis with each other, don’t you think?”
Dorian watched him, but made no attempt to move away. He stood with the back of his thighs against the table’s edge, the few inches of height Lloyd had over him inviting him to tilt his head up ever so slightly to meet him eye-to-eye. Something burned between them. Something that had been ignited the first time Dorian had introduced himself, and smouldered ever since like the embers of a fire that had never been properly extinguished. The urge to reach out and run his thumb along the curve of Dorian’s lips was near overwhelming, but Lloyd fought against it, hesitant to rush things despite the long months they had spent at each other’s side.
“Yes, I imagine it would,” Dorian agreed in a voice quieted by reverence as opposed to timidity. “I just... well, I never thought…”
“Never thought…?” Lloyd prompted, his voice also hushed the way a whispered message is often replied to with the same level of secrecy. The corner of Dorian’s lips twitched upwards into the rueful smile of a man used to expecting the worst even when on the verge of being pleasantly surprised.
“Your situation is far from ideal, Comm— ah, Lloyd. In truth, I didn’t believe you would ever see me as anything but a puppet, same as you saw yourself.” He glanced away with a surprisingly bitter chuckle. “Perhaps I am, in a way. Dancing along to music that is familiar but not necessarily right. It is hard to say, when you have spent majority of your life free of outside perspective…”
He trailed off in mute surprise as Lloyd raised his hand, curling his finger beneath Dorian’s chin and coaxing his gaze up from where it had slipped towards the floor. Grey eyes met green, and for a heart-stopping moment Lloyd feared he had miss-stepped. But… no. It wasn’t fear in Dorian’s eyes, despite the way they had widened slightly at the gentleness of the gesture. His pupils were dark and inviting, watching him with the unwavering stare of a hawk uncertain if it was hungry or curious, before deciding it was a mixture of both. Feeling his heart beating in the base of his throat, Lloyd leaned in, Dorian’s gaze tugging on him with a force as irresistible as gravity. When their lips finally met, the hesitance melted away in a matter of seconds, the product of months of flirtation. Weeks of idle touches. Days of lingering stares on uniformed backs. 
Hours spent lying in an empty bed knowing exactly what was missing.
Dorian made a soft sound – something between a hum and a moan – and slid his hands up Lloyd’s back in an effort to drawn him closer. Hardly in need of further encouragement, Lloyd leaned forward, running his hands along the line of Dorian’s waist until his palms were planted flat against the table to either side of his hips. Pinned in the most willing way possible, Dorian responded by rising onto his toes and seating himself on the desk’s surface, spreading his legs to allow Lloyd to press in closer, which he did without a moment’s hesitation. 
Pressed close as they were, aware of heat and breath and tight standard-issue fabric, it would have been impossible for them to part of their own accord. Free will abandoned Lloyd and he watched it go with the glee of an off-duty soldier waving sunnily at the on-duty patrol. Dorian, too, shivered beneath his touch, wrapping his legs around his waist for balance and other purposes. Intertwined and still caught in a cloud of disbelief, the pair clashed teeth in shock when the intercom suddenly blared to life, a voice rushing to fill the space once reserved for the sound of tongues testing new and enticing waters.
“Commander? Uh, Commander, are you there?”
“I swear to…” Lloyd growled hoarsely, tipping his head forward to rest against Dorian’s shoulder, uncaring of the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on his brow. He felt the man chuckle then tap him pointedly on the upper arm, urging him to speak. “What, Joker?” Lloyd answered finally, his voice firm and clipped despite the jelly-like consistency of his knees.
“Well, our pal the Illusive Man is trying to get hold of you. Please don’t leave me here to make small talk again. Pretty sure he already wants me dead, and I get the impression he doesn’t really care how good a pilot I am.”
“The probability of that being true is approximately 85%,” came EDI’s voice, distant as it was picked up by Joker’s headset, “based on tone analysis of your last conversation.”
“Yeah, thanks EDI. I feel much better now.”
Groaning quietly, Lloyd drew away from Dorian with the reluctance of a man leaving the warmth of a hot spring to face a blizzard. But he caught sight of an understanding – if not slightly breathless – smile, and swept forward once more to claim another deep, throat-rumbling kiss from the man who was finally so close it was maddening.
“I’ll… I’ll be right there, Joker,” Lloyd responded with a half-drawn gasp. He was rewarded by a low chuckle from Dorian and an extended pause from the intercom.
“Uh… is this a bad time? Like, I mean, not that I’m suggesting you’re—”
“—Joker,” Dorian interrupted languidly, rolling his eyes and tilting his face towards the intercom. “Kindly shut up, if you please. He said he would be right there, did he not?”
Stunned silence followed, lending the surprised expression on Lloyd’s face even more weight as he stared at Dorian. 
Huh. He had just assumed…
“I ah, hope that wasn’t too forward of me,” Dorian said, smirking slightly as he reached up to card his fingers through Lloyd’s loose brown hair. “You did say we were not restricted to privacy, after all.”
Lloyd let the momentary surprise melt into a chuckle as he leaned into Dorian’s touch. “Hmm... so I did.”
“A-Ah, I… right. Okay then…” Joker cleared his throat theatrically, as though about to deliver a toast at a friend’s wedding. “Look, I’ll be the first to say it’s about time, but could you maybe… I don’t know… wait a week?”
Frowning, Lloyd angled himself back towards the intercom, hands still on Dorian’s waist. “What? Why?”
“I… might have had a bet going with Garrus.”
“I have already informed the turian of his winnings.”
“Are you seri—?! Ugh… thanks EDI. You’re a real pal, you know that?”
“You are welcome, Jeff.”
Dorian laughed, to Lloyd’s surprise, then leaned forward to press his lips close to his ear. His breath wafted over the sensitive skin, sending a fleet of shivers sailing down Lloyd’s spine. “Go on, then. I’ll be here when you are done.”
Groaning in a mixture of want and frustration, Lloyd closed his eyes and nodded tightly, willing his heart to steady itself in preparation for a far less pleasing interaction with a very different member of Cerberus.
“God, I hope so,” he growled, then reluctantly drew away, reaching up to comb unsteady fingers through his tousled hair. A quiet buzzing was the only sound that filled the air for a moment, then Joker’s quiet, sheepish voice wandered awkwardly into the semi-silence.
“Yeah… I’m just gonna hang up now.”
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Book Blitz: There Be Demons by M.K. Theodoratus (Excerpt + Giveaway)
There Be Demons M.K. Theodoratus Publication date: September 26th 2017 Genres: Paranormal, Suspense, Young Adult
After her father remarries, Britt Kelly’s life becomes a cesspit. She lives in her sister’s two-bedroom tenement apartment with her mother, two brothers, and two young nephews. She starts a new high school where she knows no one. And, even when Britt thinks she’s making friends, the church where she studies in is torn down. Then, the field commanders of The Demon Wars draft her and her friends to aid the four Gargoyle Guardians who fight the demons invading the city of Trebridge. The fate of the city hangs on Britt’s ability to lead and learn enough self-control to manipulate the natural magic of Grace. Meanwhile, she also needs to decide what to do about Cahal, her chemistry lab partner who is as strong as her and may have interests more than just protecting Trebridge. “There Be Demons” is a continuation of M. K. Theodoratus’ urban fantasy, “Night for the Gargoyles”. It tells the tale of Gillen and his team of Gargoyle Guardians as they defend Trebridge while teaching Britt and her friends – the untrained “reinforcements. Along the way, Gillen and Britt learn things about each other to make them stronger both together and alone.
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EXCERPT:
Britt Kelly leaned against the jamb between the cramped kitchen and living room of her new home in the projects. I feel like a sardine stuffed in a can. Her anger churned. If her father hadn’t abandoned his family for his bimbo boss, she’d be back home in her own bedroom, chatting with friends about the new school year. Instead, she was stuck in her older half-sister’s apartment. Many prized the apartments in St. Edmund’s Towers for their size, but Britt refused to see it. She looked at the walls they had painted as a trap. Her mother and sister were sleeping in each family’s respective bedroom. Her two small nephews smeared jam on their faces in the living room as they waited for the cartoons to start. Her two younger brothers, Carlos and Darin, whispered in the bathroom, forgetting their argument over who got the sink first might wake their sleeping mother. Welcome to another merry day in the projects. The teen huffed as she waited for her brothers to get ready to sneak away to go see their father uptown. Her thoughts switched to getting revenge on her absentee father. He’d missed his last two court-ordered visits, but she’d get him today, even if her mother forbade them to annoy him. The court said he could see his kids every third Sunday of the month. See them he would. Her brothers had a right to visit him even if his new wife hated them like cooties. Britt was going to make sure they did. Wish I could make him suffer for the visits he’s missed. A vision of Britt sticking him with a knitting needle in each hand like his Granny Nan made her smile. No. That’s not vicious enough. A vision of a steamroller with thousands of pins on its roller popped into Britt’s mind. In seconds, the machine squashed her father into the ground. When he emerged from underneath, he was a bleeding mess. A low volume fanfare announced the TV news. Just as she was about to yank her brothers out of the bathroom, her favorite reporter came on. Jessica Hawthorne of the The Trebridge Channel wore a stunning form-fitting green outfit that Britt coveted. The color would go as well with her dark hair as the reporter’s blond, blue-eyed looks. Hawthorne took a deep breath, ready to deliver her morning spiel. Britt swallowed hard. Before the Divorce, Britt had worn expensive clothes like Hawthorne’s, not thrift shop junk like she wore now. When they lost their uptown apartment after her mom got sick, the county sheriff had dumped all their belongings on the sidewalk. Most of their stuff got stolen. Dad could’ve helped us. At least buy us some new clothes for school. He’s still got plenty of money. Mom couldn’t help getting sick. The small living room swallowed Jessica Hawthorne’s breathy voice. Britt strained to hear her over the bratbies’ sporadic giggles as they shoved pieces of toast in each other’s faces. “Enough about the underage Crown Prince of Andor getting caught in a strip joint when he should have been at school. Closer to home and our thought for the day. The Guarda assures the citizens of Trebridge the new curfew will end the vandalism and muggings. Stronger measures are needed, I tell you. Scores of people appear at hospitals with the most dreadful wounds and can’t remember how they got them.” The reporter blathered on, an earnest expression knitting her brows. “We need more guarda on the streets, especially in the river districts. These hoodlums need to be stopped.” Britt concentrated harder, not daring to turn up the volume while her mother slept. She worked the swing shift now and didn’t get home until four in the morning. Someday I’ll look that polished again, I swear. Granny Nan would bawl Dad out for how we live now if she were still alive. Britt shut her complaints down, feeling embarrassed at how proud she had once been to be called her daddy’s ‘little princess’. “While the guarda say their investigations are ongoing, I don’t see any results. Why have so many people disappeared? The police haven’t a clue.” Her lip curled. “You’d almost think we’re being invaded by demons and our fine protectors are too scared to investigate.” Her contempt poured from the screen. Britt tapped her foot, wishing her brothers would stop giggling. She wished she lived uptown where she still had a room of her own. Granted, they didn’t live on the streets, but four people stuffed in one bedroom in her half-sister’s apartment was torture. Her father deserved to be kicked in the ass. Britt wanted revenge. Her father needed to pay for abandoning his family and her. The noise in the bathroom grew louder. Those buttheads better not wake Mom up. Britt twitched the draped folds of her new V-neck blouse wishing she had the boobs to fill it out. It did have a designer label, just the thing she needed to sneak into the posh condos where her father now lived. Just like the boys can’t wear their grubs today. “I want to wear a T-shirt to Dad’s, Britt.” Quarrelsome Darin whined behind her, making her jump. He had become a total pain since their parents’ divorce. Britt hoped seeing their dad would stop his constant bitching. Britt didn’t feel any guilt for disobeying their mother’s orders. The boys deserved to see their cockroach of a father. His ice-blooded new wife could just tough out their visit. Britt’s muscles tightened in the cold, funny way they did when something bad was going to happen. She shook her head, forcing herself to ignore the bothersome feeling that was happening too often for comfort. Glancing at the closed bedroom doors, she put a finger to her lips. Mom’s going to blister our ears if we wake her. Darin opened his mouth. Lifting her hand to smack him, she brushed back the thick fall of hair across her eyes instead. If she hit him, Darin’s screams would wake their mom and Pietra, their half-sister. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Get your butt in gear. You’re wearing what you’re wearing. End of questions, comments, and complaining.” Darin did not give up. “My tees are clean. Dad don’t like fancy either. He sat in front of the TV with his shirt and shoes off all the time. In summer, he only wore his boxers. Remember? Mom always got mad at him for leaving beer cans on the coffee table. Always.” “Shh. Don’t wake Mom or Pietra.” Britt held a finger to her lips. “Get your shoes on, and we can talk in the hall.” “I don’t like dress shirts either.” Carlos, her older, calmer brother, carefully left the bathroom door partly ajar. “It’s not fair to make us wear them. You’re just a kid like us even if you’re taller. Being a high school freshmen ain’t no bigger deal than being in fifth grade.” “Stop being buttheads, both of you.” Britt jerked the apartment door open. “You begged to visit Dad. I’m doing the best I can to see you do, so shut up and move your ass before Mom wakes up.” Her mother did her best to push their father out of their lives. Britt refused to let her have her wish. Since the messy divorce and his marriage to the Ice-Bitch, Timothy Kelly had seldom spent more than an hour with them. Their dad mostly offered excuses when his visitation weekend came.When he did see them, they barely ate a fast lunch before he sent them off to a movie on their own. The last time was three months ago. Britt missed him and his compliments terribly. He’s not going to escape today. Britt remembered their one visit to the posh high-rise, so different from both their suburban and project homes. The pristine rooms, sprinkled with figurines and trinkets, made her nervous enough to get the cold crawls down her back every time she moved. The Ice-Bitch’s rat-dog had barked and snapped at them the whole time. Carlos didn’t mean to break the stupid shepherd figurine when he jumped. The damn dog would’ve bit him if I hadn’t kicked the yapping rat in the head. I don’t care if the cabrona told us never to come back again. It’s our right to see him. Outside the apartment, the hallway reeked from years of cooking in the eight apartments of the fifth floor, B-wing. In spite of the blinking light of the security camera in its wire cage, someone had tagged both sides of the hall. Thankfully, they left the picture Britt called the “Tree of Life” undamaged. Someone had painted a huge tree with birds flittering through the leaves. No one told the artist that real trees didn’t grow alone, especially the big ones. Britt missed the trees lining the streets of their lost home, and the painting’s survival gave Britt hope she might survive living in the slums, too. Be glad you don’t down near the docks. The thought of trees made Britt smile as memories of her summers at Granny Nan’s flitted through her mind, the pines sighing in the breeze while the oaks rustled with a brisker note. Her huge white dogs slipping out of the house to silently disappear into the tree-covered hillsides. Granny Nan standing lost in thought, rubbing her hidden necklace with the tips of her fingers until the gems glowed, when she thought she was alone. The three guard dogs, Nan called her guardians, licking Britt’s face. Britt’s heart clutched when she recalled their goodbye last summer. Granny Nan had bustled about the kitchen, packing a lunch with extra snickerdoodles for the drive back to Trebridge. Just before she shoved the paper bag into her hands, she rose to her tiptoes to kiss Britt on the forehead. “Cheer up, my girl. Next summer will be loads of fun. You’re going to learn all sorts of new stuff. Our secret now. Remember.” The last word had held force as she tapped Britt’s forehead. She’d loved Granny Nan. Staying with her was always fun, except when she trained Britt in self-control. Britt had looked forward to her coming summer, not ever imagining the old woman would die. Britt shoved the memory away because it hurt too much to remember. Won’t learn anything now since she’s dead. A shuffling noise on the stairs put Britt on alert, living in the projects wasn’t as safe as Uptown. The head of the girl from across the hall appeared, followed by some older guy with broad shoulders carrying a sack. The girl took one look at Britt and dropped her gaze before scurrying toward her door. On her way, the girl said, “Hi, tree.” “Why do you always talk to that silly tree, Sara?” asked the guy following her. His gaze rested on where Britt’s boobs should be and sank to her crouch area. When he smirked, Britt was glad her skirt was loose, happy she did not share Pietra and her mom’s busty figures. The dark-haired Tejano girl pushed the door open after unlocking it. “Gerome, Hurry up. Mama wants that milk yesterday.” He scooted into the door, throwing a backward glance at Britt. “Okay, Sara. Okay.” Carlos slipped into the hallway, pulling their door shut without closing it. “Okay, Britt. Now tell me why I gotta do the dress-shirt shit before school starts.” He stopped and folded his arms across his chest. His expression mirrored his father’s when the old man was ready to start a tantrum and throw things when something didn’t go his way. “I’m not going to move an inch until you let me go back and get a t-shirt.” “Yeah,” said Darin, joining them. “We gotta sneak by the co-op’s security, buttheads. If you don’t blend in, they’ll check their list of undesirables and bounce you out the door faster than you can spit. So, you’re wear prissy clothes. Comprendes? Or are you guys totally too stupid to understand?” “Dad don’t like you speaking Spanish,” said Carlos. Darin parroted in the high-pitched voice that grated her patience raw. “Yeah, we’re Andorians. Have been forever. You can even join the Daughters of the Kingscourt.” “Shut up, or go watch TV with the bratbies.” Britt gave him a cold stare. Her fifth-grade brothers hated being lumped with Pietra’s pre-school sons. “Carlos and I’ll visit Dad by ourselves and get bigger ice creams afterward.” Carlos gasped. “You won’t really leave Darin behind?” Britt’s glare heated. “Damn sure I would, if he don’t stop whining like a baby.” “Okay, but I still don’t like dress shirts,” said Darin. “All the guys around here wear tees.” “Duh. Wear a tee to school tomorrow. Now move your ass. We gotta catch the tram.” Once on the street, the boys forgot the argument in a game of shoving and giggling. Was I ever so young? Maybe before Pietra fell down the stairs and everyone blamed me for pushing her. Memories of her father’s great-grandmother who lived back in the hills flooded through her mind. Longing pulsed through Britt as she thought of the summers when she lived with her. Britt should’ve hated the old woman, but she loved her. When she was nine, Britt had been sent away because everyone thought she shoved Pietra down the stairs, breaking her leg. Pietra had been teasing her by lifting her Mr. Pongo over her head, and she had been jumping trying to grab him away. But she slipped. Pietra had fallen down the stairs when Britt had grabbed her for balance. No one believed her when Britt said it was an accident. The summer after, Granny Nan had invited her back. She did teach her to “control” her temper. She taught her imagination games. Made her use her use all her senses to examine the world around her. Taught her to sing in descant during the long evenings with the mages who came to visit her. Granny Nan was a Dissenter who disliked the Kingscourt and all it stood for. Still, Britt had loved Granny Nan’s mountain valley. The summers had been the most wonderful of Britt’s life. Author Bio: A Northern California gal, M. K. Theodoratus has been intrigued by fantasy since she started reading comic books. She has traveled through many fantasy worlds since then. When she's not disappearing into other writer's worlds, she's creating her own alternative worlds--that of Andor where demons prey on humans and the Far Isle Half-Elven where she explores the social and political implications of genetic drift on a hybrid elf/human people.
A sixth grade English assignment introduced Theodoratus to story writing. The teacher asked for a short story and gave a "C" for an incomplete, 25-page Nancy Drew pastiche which turned into a novel the next summer. Theodoratus has been addicted to writing stories happily ever after. Currently, Theodoratus lives with her old man and two lap-cats in Colorado.
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