Chapter one

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(Hello, Don't skip. Ok so the thing is that scrooge in this particular movie doesn't have a Canon age, but in other literature and films he's usually 50, for the sake of this we'll say he's 45-50.
And as for y/n, I'll definitely make her on the younger side of the adult age scale to better relate to the readers and such. But keep in mind that y/n can be any age you want. I'll right her to fit really just where she's in her 20s maybe early 30s)
I

mean anything's fine with me as long as you don't make y/n a kid but yeah

Alrighty, enjoy :))





And incase you forgot (like I do bc I'm bad at names) here are the character's names

Ebenezer Scrooge - I hope you know the name of the man you're reading fics about 💀

Jacob Marley - the man you (and Scrooge) use to work for before he passed. (He's the blue guy that came out of Scrooge's fireplace)

Harry - Scrooge's nephew

Tom Jenkins - toy store owner

Bob Cratchit - your co-worker (little Timmy's father)









I'm y/n l/n.

I work under the care of Ebenezer Scrooge, along with my colleague Bob Cratchit. I've been working in this building ever since I was just a child. Jacob Marley, my old boss, and 'father' I suppose wasn't a nice man but one I'm forever grateful for nonetheless. He sheltered, clothed, and fed me when nobody else could.

My poor family life, or I suppose I should say lack of family life was almost bearable knowing Mr. Marley was there for me.

And, believe it or not, I miss him. Every day.

But he's long gone, has been for nine years to this very day. Ever since then I've been on my own. Until recently I was able to survive off of the small inheritance he put in my name, and working here day and night.

But it wasn't enough either.

Last month my home got evicted. Taken from me. I've just been trying to make it, but it really isn't easy.

I suppose that leaves me where I am now, sitting side by side by my co worker and a close friend, Bob.

We were busy with our noses in the paper when non other than Mr. Scrooge barges through the door, faintly mumbling "damned children.."

Bob and I both scrambling to our feet to greet him. Bob spilled his container of ink while doing so. "Oh-- Mr. Scrooge, oh dear." He yelped.

"Welcome back sir!" I smiled trying my best to put on a happy face.

"Yes, and there's something I should tell you-" Bob said before Mr. Scrooge interrupted him.

"The cost of that ink will be deducted from your pay."

"Ink?" He asked looking to his desk. "Oh. The ink, of course, sir, yes. There's just that--" He started before Mr. Scrooge talked over him again.

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