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quill-pen · 1 year

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

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

Anyway--on with the ficlet!

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

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

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

Toddie Vs. Ebeness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You love us and you know it."

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

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

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know, Sweetness."

"Very, very neglectful."

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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quill-pen · 10 months

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Modern AU Scroogeverse: Starbucks orders

@rom-e-o and I joked around about it a little this morning, so I thought it might be fun to do.

Disclaimer: I, personally, am not a coffee drinker at all. I hate everything about coffee--the smell, the taste, the noise the coffee maker makes as it brews. And I never have dealings with Starbucks because I think they're a little overhyped and expensive.

Note: Americanized Bess has absolutely influenced these people's taste on things like iced and cold beverages. As she should. Cold drinks are lifeblood.

Ebenezer: First off, nobody makes coffee like his beloved Bess (she does it the old-fashioned way on the stove and adds just the right amount of heavy cream and cinnamon) so that's usually where Eb gets his coffee (she'll pour it in a thermos and send it out the door with him). But on the occasions Bess' coffee is unavailable for various reasons, Starbucks is an easy stop on the way to work. His drink of choice: the dark roast, tall, cinnamon powder, heavy cream, and two pumps of cinnamon syrup (if it's the holidays, he'll add a pump of the peppermint) to make up for the lack of Bess' TLC. It's good, but still not as good as Bess'; every sip of her coffee is like her love in liquid form and you bloody hell can't beat that. If he's had several late nights at the office, Ebenezer will also add a few shots of the signature espresso. If he has to attend a morning business meeting he's been dreading, the man has also been known to fill a flask with a little "feel-good" juice and spike his drink just enough to get through the meeting. He doesn't get anything else from Starbucks. He might try something Bess gets, but, as stated before, Starbucks is merely a handy substitute: He's not about to take time to explore their menu. Note: They never get his name right. Ebenezer is now simply known as 'Ed' at the local Starbucks.

Bess: For warm weather: a grande iced dark chocolate mocha with heavy cream and light ice. The number of espresso shots depends on how busy work has been. For cold weather: a tall caffè mocha, with warm heavy cream, light foam, and six mocha pumps. Again the number of espresso shots depends on work. If she's in the mood for something particularly sweet, Bess will usually go for one of their chocolate chocolatey frappucinos. She doesn't have a particular favorite--she likes them all--but always gets them in grande. Note: You think they'd be able to get Bess, easy enough, but no; she's been called "Bed", "Bless", "Beth", "Bet", "Bast", and "Bath". These people aren't even trying, are they?

Bob: Doesn't go to Starbucks--it's not on his way to work and it's too expensive (he's got lots of kids to take care of, even if now being partners with Mr. Scrooge makes life so much easier and comfy). He stops in at a local mom-and-pop place called 'The Grinds' and gets a large, cowboy coffee with a little milk and sugar. (He's also sweet-talked the barista into adding some espresso shots. The man has like a dozen kids, okay?! He needs it to get through the day!)

Ethel: Unlike Bob, will occasionally patronize Starbucks--mostly when she is out with the other girls. Because this is only an occasional thing, Ethel likes to treat herself (she deserves it!): a venti strawberry crème frappuccino with vanilla sweet cream, extra whipped cream, five syrup pumps, two espresso shots, toasted vanilla syrup, cookie crumble topping, mocha sauce, and extra strawberry puree. Leave her alone--she's affording herself a rare treat--it's fine. Note: Don't always get her name right either, but they get it right more often than with Bess.

Harry: Does not have a favorite. Man gets something different every time he goes and has liked everything equally. He does have a particular fondness for their frozen fruit beverages though, but only in summer. When the weather gets cold, he'll go for their hot apple drinks. The only customization he insists upon is extra cinnamon or peppermint during the holiday season. After all, he loves Christmas--it's his favorite time of year! He always gets the largest option. Note: Yes, his name always gets spelled right, usually accompanied by little Harry Potter flourishes. He finds them so charming and tries to keep them all. Hela eventually throws them out when he's clearly forgotten about them--usually after a week.

Hela: Usually goes for their teas. It's a toss-up between a short honey citrus mint with light lemonade and an extra pump of honey or a short, regular matcha tea latte. Note: Only gets her name spelled right if she's served by a fan of Marvel.

Tom: He is a very simple man. In the cold, he beelines for their hot chocolate: grande, steamed whole milk, doubled mocha pumps with extra whipped cream, and extra caramel drizzle with caramel sauce lining the cup. In the heat, it's a regular mango dragonfruit lemonade with extra ice. Note: Once got named "Dom" at Starbucks. The barista winked at him as she passed him his drink. Addie was with him and did not appreciate it; she absolutely took a cue from her cousin and groped his ass on the way out. The ride home was very long after that, but the events that played out at home were a blast.

Addie: In the cold, she loves the white hot chocolate. She'll usually get a tall with oat milk, extra foam brown sugar syrup with a mocha cause lining, and chocolate mint cookie sprinkles with light whipped cream. In the heat, her go-to is a grande iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso with salted caramel foam, mocha drizzle, whipped cream, and caramel crunch topping. Note: Often gets called "Abbie", but one time, somehow, she got called "Baddie". She rode that high for a week.

Ernie: Isn't really a coffee man, so he mostly sticks to the teas. He goes for the classic Earl Grey with a little lemonade, honey, and a pinch of cinnamon. If he's looking for something cooler, he just goes for the lemonade. Nothing very complicated. Note: Absolutely gets "Bert" added in with his name like 80% of the time. The joke is getting old now, folks.

Ella: Honestly, she doesn't do Starbucks. She had one drink once--a huge chocolate java mint frap, loaded up with all the best goodies. It was so good. But the stomach flu was going through the Cratchit household at the time and she got hit with it right after she had that heavenly delight and... yeah. Ruined the entire chain for her. Just the mention of Starbucks makes her stomach roll. Ernie doesn't drink Starbucks around her and does his best to shield the very logo from her view.

Granny: Simple and surprising--a doppio of espresso macchiato. regular except for eight shots of espresso instead of the standard two. She's in her 80s and surrounded by young folks, okay? How else do you expect her to keep up with them all?

Josie: Doesn't do Starbucks either. She thinks it's overrated and too trendy, and will go out of her way to find small, independent establishments to patronize. She enjoys hazelnut lattes with a little touch of cinnamon and mocha sauce. Will always ask the barista to make the most unique design they can with the cream and asks if she can watch.

Mickey: Just like his love, he doesn't do Starbucks. For one he could never afford it; for two, he tried some once and he didn't find it all that great. Certainly wasn't worth the hype everyone seemed to have about it. He chooses to support the independent coffee houses as well, often taking Josie out on dates to them. He likes the cowboy coffee with only a little milk; he enjoys the rusticness and simplicity of it. Josie isn't a fan of the flavor but she loves the smell of it on Mickey's breath afterward and she doesn't mind the taste coming off his tongue and lips when he kisses her either.

Jules: He can't drink coffee as it makes him sick, but he enjoys the iced teas. His favorite is a blended grande black tea lemonade with some apple juice and strawberries. And definitely extra ice. Always extra ice. In the winter, he gets a regular caramel apple spice. Note: Often gets his name spelled as "Jewels". Once he had an older barista that was a big fan of Jules Verne though, and he got that written on his cup--that was fun.

Martha: The chocolate java mint frap, tall, with coconut milk, double-blended with frap chips, hazelnut syrup, two extra pumps of the mint sauce, mocha sauce lining, toasted cookie crumble, light cinnamon powder, and whipped cream--that's this girl's game. She only needs to have one once in a while, as it's so very rich. Note: Once got called "Martyr". So... that was different.

Kathy: Girl is a fiend for the espresso shots! That's what happens when you're studying to be an L&D nurse, I suppose. She gets a quad of the blonde roast loads it up on six shots and hammers it. But after she's had a couple of those, she'll get a short, dark chocolate mocha with heavy cream and honey to sip on. Note: Has been called "Catty" more than once. She does not appreciate it.

Millie: VENTI. PUMPKIN. SPICE. LATTES. With extra cream and cinnamon and caramel sauce lining. She lives for this stuff and literally has an emotional breakdown whenever it goes out of season. After that, she falls back on the vanilla bean crème frap, venti size, with almond milk, extra whipped cream, frap chips, macadamia syrup, caramel lining, white chocolate mint sauce, honey blend, cinnamon, mocha drizzle, and caramel crunch topping. And, ya know what? It's still nowhere near as good as the pumpkin spice. Why don't they just sell it all year?! It would be their number-one seller! They could just start a whole other Starbucks offshoot just for the pumpkin spice and rake in the money! Note: Absolutely tells the barista how to spell her name and double-checks to make sure they got it right.

Gil: Decaf roast, tall, black--plain, simple, easy. He likes the bitterness; reminds him of the earth and nature. If he's craving a little sweetness, he might add some honey. Note: Usually gets called "Dill". Does not complain--he gets his coffee either way. And he kinda like the name "Dill" actually.

Tim: He's not allowed to drink coffee, as he gets way too hyper. But he does like their frozen fruit drinks. The pineapple passion fruit is his favorite; he always gets extra pineapple in it. He gets the largest size and sticks it in the freezer whenever he's had enough to snack on for a few days. The stuff tastes even better when it's frozen enough to eat like ice cream! Note: Tim is so cute, most of the time the baristas don't even hear him say his name because they're so focused on his cherubic smile or sparkling blue eyes, so they just write "Angel boy" on the cup. Tim just blushes and beams.

Beryl: She doesn't like coffee, but she is also a serious businesswoman, and serious businesswomen drink coffee. Beryl gets the espresso con panna in the smallest size with extra whipped cream and three espresso shots. The whipped cream is the only way she can stand the taste of the stuff. Sometimes she needs a little mocha drizzle to get it down too, even while she's holding her nose and trying to swallow it down without letting it touch her tongue. Ebenezer has pointed out to her time and again that it's okay if she doesn't like coffee--she can drink something else if she wants to--but Beryl refuses. "Businesswomen drink coffee! It's a staple!" And no one is going to convince her otherwise. Note: Never gets her name spelled right, so she has taken to telling them at her name is "Bear". That always gets spelled right and she gets comments on how "cool her name is". Beryl might be considering changing her name to "Bear".

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