#oh but I got something out of this. the way I wrote Canada in an unpublished drabble isn’t ooc if I just say it’s him being yandere.

[obiwan]

Hi! I just started watching the Star Wars prequels and I want to read some obikin fanfictions but I don't know where to start so if you have any recommendations for me I could really asappreciated.

Have a good day/night!

Hii! I keep saying I'm going to do this because I have so many messages like this - and what I usually try to do is leave the most "famous" ones out of reclists, because most likely everyone has read them, but they were also the first ones I've read. So I will try to do a combination of both new and old fics which I consider "classics". Also a reminder that I have already posted this this & this before. And oh boy this got long.

✰(Explicit, Complete) When the Abyss Stares Back at You  by skyl_tales

Pausing the holovid, Mace looked from Anakin to Obi-Wan. "This holovid was taken on planet Revoran two days ago."   In the holovid, the golden-eyed Anakin looked at something just out of frame. There was something distinctly hungry and possessive about that gaze. It made a shiver run up Obi-Wan's spine--because he recognized that look. He'd seen Anakin look that way at Senator Amidala.

But it wasn't Senator Amidala who stepped into the camera's view. It wasn't Senator Amidala the Sith yanked closer and kissed.

It was Obi-Wan.  [Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent to investigate the sighting of a Sith Anakin, who appears to be in a relationship with an older version of Obi-Wan.]

This is one of my favourite Obikin fics, and if you enjoy time travel shenanigans chances are you will enjoy this too. skyl_tales wrote some of my favourite fics for this fandom, so if you enjoy this, I suggest you check their other work as well!

✰(Explicit, Complete) If I only knew by wanderlove

Newly knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker, have been sent to Ryloth on a simple diplomatic envoy. While there, an unsettling incident causes Obi-Wan to look at Anakin in a new light and re-evaluate…everything.

The Galaxy will never be the same.

aka: "come for the obikin, stay for the tzai and deep emotional discussions that dismantle every single misunderstanding in the prequels."

Beautiful story!!!! This is honestly one of the most wholesome and "fix-it/what-if" kind of canon obikin fics I've ever read. I really really recommend reading this if you're just getting into Obikin and the SW-verse in general.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Moonlight Serenade by Lemon (@renlyslittlerose)

“Glad you came,” the man said. He pushed away from the lamppost and approached Anakin, his hand held out for him to take. “I realized I never properly introduced myself. I’m Major Kenobi, but you can call me Obi-Wan.”

Anakin took his hand and shook it, their touch lingering for just a little longer than was normally acceptable. It felt like holding on to fire. “Flying Officer Skywalker. But most call me Anakin.”

An accident in 1944 over the fields of France puts an end to Anakin’s flying career. Discharged and sent back to Canada, Anakin must confront the ghosts of his past and find a new path forward.

This is a WWII AU - so beware of that in the first place, but I have always enjoyed historical AUs, and this is very beautifully done. It spans over a long time (my favourite) and does it so well.

✰(Explicit, Complete) To Eden by Unfortunate17

Accused of masterminding the Jedi Temple bombing, Obi-Wan is expelled from the Order.

Anakin is left to pick up the pieces.

This fic. THIS FIC!!!! I don't have anything to say about this - read this fic (in fact read everything written by this author - they have a bodyswap fic called Gray Matter) I really enjoy their characterization of both Obi-Wan and Anakin and the story telling is amazing. Truly love them.

✰(Teen, Complete) Don't be Afraid. by spqr

Tainted by your encounter with the Sith, you are, Obi-Wan imagines Master Yoda saying. Fix you, we cannot. To the AgriCorps, you shall return.

“Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda says, after a moment. “Complete your training, Master Skywalker will.”

Another reverse AU! I realise this is one of those 'either you love it or hate it' tropes, but I do love it, so I include it in my recs. I enjoy imagining the scenarios of Jedi Master Anakin and Padawan Kenobi, so if you think that's something you would also enjoy, give this a chance!

✰(Explicit, Complete) Fearless and the Negotiator by @zimriya

Anakin Skywalker is a superhero. He spends his nights roaming the streets of Coruscant alongside his superhero partner—a man called the Negotiator whom he has never seen without a mask, and yet whom he loves desperately all the same. By day, Anakin works an uneventful nine-to-five at Jedi Inc., doing his best to remember that he cannot murder his coworkers—even if they are called Obi-Wan Kenobi and are the literal worst.

A superhero AU!!! I love his au because it's so well done and so well thought out (the details in this!!!) and I love enjoying Obi-Wan in white spandex. Like that's my bread and butter right there. Either way, if you enjoy marvel-esque superheroes and Obi-Wan and Anakin is the usual idiots they are, give it a go <3

✰(Explicit, Complete) if you love me, let it remain unnamed by @tennessoui

Obi-Wan Kenobi is grappling with his failure to protect his padawan from Dooku's blade. As the galaxy around them plunges into civil war, he overcorrects and refuses to allow Anakin's Knighting ceremony in order to keep him by his side where he will be safe.

His padawan is less than pleased.

Only trying to help, the Force overcorrects Obi-Wan's overcorrection and pulls them into an alternate universe where they run into a different version of Anakin Skywalker altogether.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi is also grappling with new, sudden, and insistent feelings for his padawan. He overcorrects by following the older version of Anakin into bed.

His padawan is less than pleased.

The Force….lets them figure this one out on their own.

OBIWAN GETS TAG TEAMED. OBIWAN GETS DOUB- [gunshot] Look, this fic is hot but beyond that, I loooove time travel shenanigans, and Anakin being pissed off at a future version of himself is so delicious.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Lex Talionis by @intermundia

The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves.

Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes?

Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process.

An insane canon-divergence AU, this is so intricate and could truly be a movie of its own lol. It features (eventually) sith! Obi-Wan and sith! Anakin, so beware of that, but I don't want to spoil that story. Also that I would never rec any story that has a sad ending :)

✰(Explicit,A/B/O, Complete) i shouldn't cry (but i love it) by blahzarry

Obi-Wan knew alphas that liked to be taken existed. He knew it was possible. But not once in his life had he felt even tempted to try it.

...It's exactly what it says on the tin. Once again one of those: either you will love it or hate it kind of tropes I think, omegaverse is what it is. If you're familiar with it and the idea of an Alpha Obi-Wan growing to enjoy submission sounds like up your alley (it is mine,) then by all means!

✰(Teen, Complete) that mouth of yours looks like it gets you into trouble by @tennessoui

Obi-Wan Kenobi inhales a powder that compels him to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Good thing Obi-Wan doesn't have any secrets.

or,

by god, Obi-Wan Kenobi is forced to talk about his feelings. It's, on the whole, regrettable for everyone involved. Or it would be once everyone stops laughing about it.

Fairytale tropes! I've always loved truth serum/truth spell trope where one party is obliged to tell the truth. Add one repressed Obi-Wan Kenobi into the mix? Perfection. I looooove this fic so much, it's wholesome and touching at the same time.

✰(Explicit, Complete) The Bottom of the Ninth by @ragnarlothcat

"No baseball pitcher would be worth a darn without a catcher who could handle the hot fastball." - Casey Stengel

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the veteran catcher of the Coruscant Jedi, a talented baseball team that have been down on their luck. The addition of rookie pitcher Anakin Skywalker might be a sign all that's about to change.

Especially for Obi-Wan.

Lmao anyone who knows me a *little* bit knows that I have an obsession with sports aus. This is no exception. Granted I know *nothing* about baseball, but this was a perfect balance of actually explaining the sport without getting too heavily into details and making it a perfect obikin story. WE 👏 NEED 👏 MORE 👏 SPOTS 👏 AUS 👏

✰(Teen, Complete) the sound of your voice (helps me find peace) by izazov

It was a promise to Qui-Gon Jinn that had allowed Anakin Skywalker into Obi-Wan Kenobi's life. But it was Obi-Wan Kenobi who had allowed Anakin Skywalker into his heart.

OR (more accurately):

Five times Anakin had to ask for a story. And one time Obi-Wan offered it freely.

Ahhh this author, this fic. It's so beautifully written, canon compliant au, and it just hurts (in the most beautiful, gut wrenching way). It's beautifully melancholic, I always love their works even if they leave me with a pang in my chest.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Conceal Me What I Am by @himboskywalker

Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be.

Another omegaverse fic!! This time with omega Anakin and alpha Obi-Wan in disguise. I read this fic eons ago (read: when I first got into the fandom) but it always stuck with me, because I love sneaky stuff like this - also it's plot driven! It's an au but within the same universe, so again, if you don't have anything against omegaverse, give it a read.

✰(Teen, Complete) we should run after each other (and be with one another) by Resacon1990

Even though he’s still full of anger and rage, he pushes it all aside to force a smile and squeeze Anakin’s shoulders.

“No, Anakin,” he says quietly, “I could never blame you for his death.”

It’s the first time Obi-Wan ever lies to Anakin.

or

Five times Obi-Wan lied to Anakin, and the one time he told the truth.

Another 5+1 fic!! I love this fic, also semi canon compliant, and very much gut wrenching. I love this kind of story telling where we get to see the span of their lives throughout 5+1 thingies. This is a beautiful story <3

✰(Explicit, Complete) Swear On It by dirkygoodness

Anakin lets his feet take him a good ways from camp before he actually stops, breathing fast from the memory of his dream.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight against it and holds his breath for a moment, trying to get himself under control. Tonight it doesn’t seem to be working, though, because the images of people he knows and loves hurt and bloody and dead just won’t get out of his mind.

YOOO - this is one of the first fics I've read in this fandom and oh my god. It's kind of PWP - but the characterization, the feeling, the EMOTION. It's all there. It's a two parter - read them both, it's so good, it's one of those fics where I read it and I was like. Oh yeah this happened in canon.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Bare grace misery by @thedunesea

Anakin let out a pained sound. “I failed my men, I failed you, and now… and now this. Could you, Obi-Wan? Could you come from this humiliation?” His voice broke, and then he was weeping, hot tears streaming down his face even as he kept stroking himself, his sobs of shame intermingling with his whimpers of pleasure. The mixture was so unbelievably erotic Obi-Wan felt his head spin.

Or: Anakin gets poisoned, and the antidote that saves his life has some uncomfortable side effects.

Ahhh, gorgeous fic! Have to say the only version of Dom!Obi-Wan I enjoy is Gentle!Dom Obi-Wan and this fic does it justice! It's such a nice read - I love some self shaming Anakin and Gentle! Obi-Wan guiding him through those feelings.

✰(Explicit, WIP) toss overboard what is too heavy to carry by @tennessoui

In the aftermath of the Clone Wars, Palpatine dead and untold tragedy averted, the Republic struggles to heal and rebuild itself.

Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi attempt to do the same with their own relationship, riddled as it has become with betrayal, distrust, and hurt. It's not going too well. Desperate and unwilling to accept that maybe their friendship is ruined, Anakin finds a counselor they can talk to, one that specializes in healing "teams."

Or, as the counselor would probably put it, married couples, which they are decidedly not. Not that she knows that though. And not that they know that she thinks they're in a romantic relationship either. What a silly assumption to make. It's not like they're more intimate than lovers or anything.

I know I recced this before, and I'm usually against that but lol. This fic, this fic truly holds such a special place in my mind, it fits in SO WELL with the headcanons I have of Obi-Wan and Anakin, the little questionnaires they answer in the end of each chapter - the EVERYTHING. I'm not even exaggerating this fic is what's keeping me tethered to the obikin fandom atm. I really get a bit stupid when Kit's fics are involved, she is probably the author who got me hooked on obikin, so I would suggest checking out her work in general. I could rec anything and everything from her.

✰(Explicit, Complete) You can call me baby (You can call me love) by @lilredghost

Four times Anakin calls Obi-Wan an old man, plus one time he realizes how much it bothers him.

I love Sub!Obi-Wan who loved being called baby and who is also a bit insecure and this is why this fic is here sue me.

✰(Mature, Complete) Fringe believers and hopeless wanderers by iiscos

A Jedi falls in love with a kind, but poor mechanic aboard the luxurious, ill-fated R.S.C. Terranova.

A Star Wars/Titanic AU

A titanic AU!!! I love this so much, (it does have a happy ending) and the premise is so intriguing, (as someone who has never seen titanic) I love this fic greatly)

Look - this is OF COURSE not a comprehensive list. I tried to compile somewhat of a combo of new and old fics, of course of the ones I've loved. Please do check out the author's other fics if you like their fic you've read! That's a sure way to discover more fic you'll most likely enjoy. Hope you like this, I wish I could do more, but it takes up more time than you can imagine, so, until next time!!!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

"A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards." - Carl Kraus

Four hours. Four hours of sleep you got after ending that grueling case in Canada. Four hours later, you are called into another case. JJ didn't disclose the details of the case since you'd get them as soon as you arrive. You and Spencer meet up with Derek at the same time, and Rossi and Emily greet you who are already outside of the newest victim's house.

You freeze in your tracks and put a hand to your stomach that grinds and churns painfully. You gasp and look at Spencer who puts a hand to your back in comfort.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's Hotch?" you ask.

"I don't know. He hasn't arrived yet."

"Are you okay?" Rossi asks.

"Yeah, my stomach hurts. It's probably from the lack of sleep. I'm gonna call Hotch." You take your phone out and call your boss but he doesn't answer. "He's not answering."

"He probably has it on vibrate. He'll show up eventually."

You don't tell them that you think something is seriously wrong with Hotch. If there isn't anything wrong, then you're going to worry everyone for no reason. You push down the feeling of uncertainty and focus on the case at hand.

"We're not working a case. Why call us to a crime scene?" Derek asks.

"I was hoping you knew."

"JJ said the police told her it was urgent."

"With four hours of sleep after what we went through in Canada, it better be," Derek sighs.

You five walk inside the victim's house where JJ, the detective, and the CSI agents are. Your stomach churns again and Derek notices the way you wince in pain.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Something is wrong with Hotch, you can feel it. You don't want to worry anyone without knowing more details.

"Oh, you guys are already here. Do you guys remember Detective Walker?" JJ asks.

"Thanks for being here. I understand none of you are working on much rest."

"Who's the victim?" you clear your throat.

"His name is Nelson Martinez. From what we can figure, he answered his door, was forced into the apartment at gunpoint, and then shot in the chest. It was all pretty sloppy."

"No disrespect, but I don't understand why you need us here," Derek says.

"Two days ago, a local doctor named Tom Barton found a note addressed to him at the hospital. It said the person was planning to kill his son. If Dr. Barton tried to keep his son hidden, one person would die every day in his place."

"You think this is connected?"

"There was a note on the body. It's signed L.C. Yesterday, we had another victim with multiple gunshots outside the apartment. The shooter wrote L.C. in white chalk next to the body."

"Unless Dr. Barton puts his son in harm's way, we're gonna keep having a victim a day," Spencer says.

"We're Barton now?"

"He's at home," JJ answers. "He doesn't know about this victim yet."

"Where's Hotch?" you ask again.

"He's not answering his cell. I assume it's on vibrate. He'll get the message when he wakes up."

You hope all he's doing is sleeping.

"Try him again. He can meet us at Barton's house."

You leave the house first and grab your phone to call him again. Like the half dozen times before, it goes to voicemail.

You've reached Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Please leave a detailed message. Thank you.

"Hotch, it's Y/N again. Listen, we're gonna need you to meet us at a house in Mclean, Virginia. 120 Kensington Road. Call me when you get this."

The sick feeling in your stomach only gets worse by the time you reach Dr. Barton's house. He is eager to let you into his house because this whole thing has him freaked about protecting his own life as well as his son's.

"Barton, where is your son right now?" Emily wonders.

"I asked him to stay up in his room."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that there was a threat against me at the hospital. I told him the police didn't take it seriously, that they wanted me to stay here for a few days, and that I wanted to have him with me."

"What about Jeffrey's mother?"

"She died when he was ten from breast cancer. Would someone really hurt Jeffrey?"

"Two people are dead already. Whoever sent that note is obviously serious."

"If I don't let Jeffrey out of the house, then another person's gonna die? He's only fifteen. I cannot put him in danger."

"We're not asking you to. Even if you were willing, we can't send him to school knowing he would endanger every student in the building. What we need to do now is go over everything we know and piece together how this person fits into your life," Rossi says.

"I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt Jeffrey," Dr. Barton stutters.

"Whoever wrote that note was putting you on notice. This is personal. He wants you to remember who he is, and until that happens, he hasn't accomplished what he set out to do."

"I know you've been asked this before, but please think again. Do you know anyone with the initials L.C.?" you wince in pain.

"I've looked everywhere," he sighs. "In my day planner, emails, and patient lists. There's no one."

"Have you noticed anyone who might have been watching you either at the hospital or here in the neighborhood?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Both the victims he's killed have been Hispanic men in their forties. Have you had a patient recently that fits the description?" Detective Walker asks.

"I'm a trauma surgeon in D.C. I have endless patients of all demographics."

"We're gonna need records of all your recent surgeries."

"Of course."

"I'll call Garcia," JJ announces and steps off to the side.

"I don't understand. If he's mad at me, why not just kill me?"

You leave the group and walk over to JJ who is texting Penelope.

"Hey, is there any word from Hotch?"

"No, nothing."

"That's not like him," you sigh and touch your stomach.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think it's from the lack of sleep," you lie.

Dr. Barton's phone rings and he eagerly picks it up thinking it's good news.

"Hello? ... Jeffrey? ... What's happening? Are you okay?" Derek immediately runs upstairs to check if Jeffrey is in his room only to discover that his window is wide open. "Jeffrey, what's going on? Talk to me."

"He's not up here."

"Jeffrey, where are you?" He hangs up regretfully and looks at everyone in the room. "He's at school. He says he's fine but for how long?"

"Let's go. JJ, you're with us. Prentiss, Y/N, and Reid stay with Dr. Barton and go through all of his case files. The unsub is in there," Rossis takes charge.

Dr. Barton doesn't give this two thoughts because as soon as half the group is out of the house, he goes running after them.

"Dr. Barton, please!"

"You need to go back inside," Rossi says.

"I'm coming with you. I'm gonna get my son."

"Sir, right now nobody is getting your son. Agent Prentiss or Y/N will explain it."

"I don't need an explanation. I'm getting Jeffrey."

"You need to listen right now. Once your son left this house, the safest place for him to be is at that school. We can control access in and out. Detective Walker will organize an evacuation as soon as the school day is done. If we incite a panic now and the unsub is outside, a lot of kids are gonna die," Derek explains.

"What if the killer is already at the school?"

"Then we'll be there, too. Let us do our job."

"Jeffrey knows better than this. He doesn't put himself in danger."

"I think he's just trying to do the right thing. He sees what his father does for a living. This is his way of trying to save lives, too."

"You'll be there?" Dr. Barton asks after a moment.

"Yes."

"Tell him I'm not mad at him. Tell him I love him, and I'm proud of him."

"We will."

Rossi's team leaves for the school while you, Emily, and Dr. Barton head back inside to where Spencer is. He's on the phone with Penelope going over the case files over a certain time period. This unsub started killing recently, so his case might not have been that long ago. The feeling in your stomach gets worse just as a new pain erupts in your side.

Something is seriously wrong with Hotch.

"This guy is a trauma surgeon working in a major metropolitan area. We are talking thousands of surgeries."

"Confine it to the last six months."

"That's still hundreds. Do you want biological information or full medical charts?"

"Can you get the full medical charts?"

"You know, for a smart boy, you still ask a lot of dumb questions. You'll have them in seconds."

"Ask her if Hotch checked in with her," you say.

"Did Hotch check in with you?"

"He's not with you?"

"He's probably on his way. Uh, thanks for everything. Bye." He hangs up on her. "She's going to email the files. We'll print them out from here."

"I could have my office send over the files."

"Trust us, this is faster. We need to dig through your life and try to figure out why this is happening. Let's start with the most recent cases first. Something set this guy off and odds are it's in your files. Let's concentrate on the note. For starters, we know that he's male."

"How do you know?" Dr. Barton asks.

"Women tend to add adjectives and very specific details to their notes. This has none of those," Emily explains. "Males are also more direct. The first sentence is 'I plan to kill your son'. Their notes tend to be more about themselves than the person they're writing to. For example, 'I watched you every day' and 'I will watch you lose everything'."

"We know he surveilled you and your son which means he either has enough money to be away from a regular job or he's currently unemployed. He's most likely a father because he's clearly grieving. He's taken great measures to make sure you feel his pain."

"Let's start with cases involving teenagers that were killed, but also anyone with a strong family presence. Just because your son is fifteen doesn't necessarily mean that his child is the same age."

"Have you had a lot of cases like this where someone taunts you with what they're gonna do?" Dr. Barton asks.

"A few."

"How did they end?" No one answers his question because it's not something he should hear. "Please."

"Suicide by cop seems to be an effective way for them to make their point while ending their suffering all at once," you answer.

"Jeffrey is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all these patients at this time."

"We already narrowed the list."

"We still have a hundred left." Dr. Barton is clearly upset with the way things are and he realizes he's lashing out. He takes a few deep breaths before continuing. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be callous but when you work in the ER, you don't remember names. You operate and you move on."

This is your opportunity to check in on Hotch. Please let him be sleeping.

"He's right. There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short time. I'm gonna go get Hotch. You two stay here and start filtering through the list. I should be back in half an hour."

"Who's that?"

"He's our supervisor. We weren't supposed to work today. We're having trouble getting ahold of him."

"We need more eyes. I'll be right back."

You kiss Spencer's head when you pass by him.

"The note doesn't say that he'll kill Jeffrey today. It says, 'If not today, tomorrow, or the next day'. Let's say he gets home safe. How long will you all be around to make sure he's okay?" Dr. Barton asks worriedly.

"Let's just get through today."

The principal of the school is more than happy to help the FBI once she hears exactly what is going on in her school. She wants to take action immediately but the team isn't so keen on the idea.

"I need to notify all the parents," the principal panics.

"We think that's a mistake."

"I'm in charge of keeping these kids safe, agent."

"Exactly, and there's a natural end to this day when buses and parents come to pick these kids up. Whoever's doing this is not an effective shooter. His killings are sloppy. So, if there's a panic, a lot of people could be caught in the crossfire," Derek explains.

"Can't you just take Jeffrey home?"

"If we do that and the unsub is watching, someone else is gonna be killed."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"We'll lock up every filter point except the front door. Nobody comes in. We say it's school policy so there will be no questions, and if someone needs to see a student, we bring the kids to them."

"I'll need a complete list and employment records of everyone already inside the building," JJ says.

"I'll brief your security guards and take care of all of the exits. After that, I need you to gather the faculty into small groups and bring them to me. We'll treat it as routine, and in the meantime I need you to get Jeffrey out of class as casually as possible. Can you do that?"

"Sure."

Derek, Rossi, and JJ follow the principal to the classroom Jeffrey is in and she steps inside alone.

"Jeffrey Barton. Could I see you for a moment?"

The other students mutter in curiosity as Jeffrey meets the principal in the empty hallway. He sees the three FBI agents and becomes worried.

"Hey, Jeffrey. My name's Derek Morgan. I'm with the FBI."

"I saw you in my living room."

"Listen, the first thing I need to know is if you've told anyone about what's happening?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because even just one text message could set this place off."

"I'm sure."

"Alright. We're gonna keep you safe, kid. In order to do that, you're gonna have to stay calm and trust me. Do you understand? Every time you step out of class, I will be right here. Now, it's gonna look like I'm just another adult in the hallway with Principal Findlay, but I got your back."

"Is my dad okay?"

"He knows you were just trying to do the right thing. He just wants to get you home safe."

"Do you think somebody's trying to kill me to get back at him?"

"It's possible."

"Do you know why?"

"That's what we need to figure out."

Jeffrey goes back to class knowing he is going to be safe from whoever is targeting him. Even as he goes from class to class, he sees JJ and Derek right there watching him. He has no doubt that he is going to be safe, but the same thing can't be said for Hotch.

x

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[dozing-marshmallow]

OKAY OKAY, hello again!! loved the nibling reader you wrote and just had to write it again!!! (if you couldn't tell im a sucker for platonic family hcs <3)

this time, this request is quite angsty?? ig nibling!reader getting their feelings hurt (either by duncan, heather, or whoever you decide to choose!) you can decide if they either run to chris to cry to, or if they run away to a more.. deserted(??) area of the island. (bonus points if after reader feels better, leshawna comforts them <:]) thank yeww!!

HIYAAA!! Lovely seeing you again with another appreciated request, and to hear that you are happy with how I interpret a Chris nibling reader! It means a lot ! <3 

As always, have an enjoyable reading experience! 😊

ANGSTY! CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER HEADCANONS

Heather was on the chopping block.

She needed to do something urgently. The day wasn’t getting any earlier. Everyone was itching to cast her name out of the competition.

Immunity wasn’t in her favour this time.

She needs to find a reason asap to not be kicked out tonight. That there was actually someone around that was a much bigger threat to everyon-

...Everyone?

...

Jackpot.

“You know that...toy Chris’ nibling has? I need you to get it for me.” Heather beseeched bluntly to Lindsay, hours before the elimination ceremony, in the whistling privacy of the forest.

“Um, sure?” The blonde’s voice high pitched from stupidity agreed,“But why can’t you go ask yourself? (Y/N) doesn’t bite! Not people!”

“Because Lindsay...I...gotta make sure I’m presentable! My hands need to be in perfect condition.” It was a strange excuse, but Lindsay was narrow.

“Ohh, right! Gotcha.” If anything, she found relatability in such empty words.

Too easy,“When you get it, come straight back here. You can remember that, can’t you?”

“Ohh, totally! In geography, I-“

“Go get the teddy.” Heather interrupts dismissively.

“Okay...” she watches moody Lindsay’s height get smaller and smaller as she disappears more and more to carry out one last request.

You were sitting on the sand with your legs spread out when you saw the pretty blonde girl approach you,“Hi Lindsay!”

“Hii (Y/N)! Is that Mrs Maple?” She pointed at the stuffed bear, dressed in a shirt of the Canada flag.

You nod,“She’s having a suntan!”

“Oooo, she’s a lot like me! We both love being trendy!” Ask to get the teddy, ask to get the teddy,“Could I hold her? I...wanna see if we’re really on the same wavelength!” She zealously asks.

You hesitate. You never really let that happen.

You hold Mrs Maple by her underarms and stare far into her black eyes, before you nod and hand her over.

“Thanks! Aww... It’s such a cute bear!...Oh...wait...” She remembers her objection,  and gawks back at you,“I think I hear her talking! She said she wants me to uh, get some syrup for her! Gotta go!”

Before you could protest, she races away. 

That’s weird... Mrs Maple is shy when she meets new people...

Oh! It must be a coverup for a game of tag.

Thus, you got to your feet and ran the same way she did, following her footprints in the sand, smiling. Challenge accepted!

“Hey...! Heather!” She wheezes, holding the teddy to her,“I got it!”

“Good.” She hears a distant “Wait up!” which melts a glare on her face to Lindsay,“You let them follow you?”

“Ohh... I didn’t know they would. But they sound like they’re having fun!” Lindsay found much virtue in it.

“Yeah... A lot of fun.” The wicked glimmer of Heather’s smile shifts to the blades of a pair of scissors she sharpened out, offering them to Lindsay,“Cut the head off.”

...

Lindsay is mortified.

“Wh-What?!” She stutters, clearly having the full ugly picture confidential to her up until now,“I don’t understand, I-I thought you wanted it to see it!”

“Yeah, and to mutilate it.” She snaps the scissors together,“Take.”

“I can’t! I won’t!” She yelled, holding Mrs Maple to the other side,“This teddy is (Y/N)’s whole astronomy, and she didn’t do anything to deserve decapitation! Besides, I-I was the one that took it so, it’d make it look like it was my idea!”

“Right on.” Heather snarled, Lindsay’s out of nowhere refusal not being part of the plan- she could threaten her position in the alliance, but eh, not much of a point if... Oh well. She did do the difficult part so there was nothing hard about snatching the teddy right from Lindsay’s hands and rapidly tearing the head off faster than she could blink.

“Heather! What are you doing?!” She screeched.

The sick image of stuffed cotton overflowing from both ends of the teddy to the ground.

Mrs Maple’s head was now a teddy of its own.

“There.” She pushes the two pieces back into Lindsay’s shaking hands,“Now you can give this back. Or should I say, these.” A malicious smile raises on her pale lips.

“Oh my God... You’re gonna be in so much trouble!” 

“No. You’re gonna be in so much trouble.” Heather reiterated victoriously,“Later!”

She sprints away.

“Hey! Come back, this is your doing!” official that Heather wasn’t going to come back, Lindsay bites down on her bottom lip as she desperately tried useless methods of fixing it such as seeing if the head could stay on the neck by itself or licking her finger to try stick the separated body parts together.

Nothing worked.

I...I didn’t know bears bleed white fluff!

“Lindsay...?”

The one voice she wished she didn’t hear then.

She swiftly hides her hands behind her back and faces the small child, whose shoes and hands were dirty from running and falling, twitching on a nervous smile,“(Y/N)! Y-You’re here! That’s so...great!”

“Could I have Mrs Maple back now please? Her social battery must be so dead by now...” you asked, coming towards her wobbly from running so much.

“Oh um, well, see uh...” her falling on her words didn’t help her case. Hey! She can’t do these things under pressure!

Your face drops,“You...lost her?”

“No! She’s...” she sighs, divulging her heavy hands,“Here. I-I can explain-!”

Immediately, your eyes stung deeper than a wasp’s.

She was showing you your worst nightmare.

Someone you trusted.

“What...?” It was rather unsightly. It... This couldn’t be happening...

“I promise I didn’t do it! It was Heather! It was Heather’s idea, I swear! I didn’t know she wanted to do that!” Lindsay broke down to plead her innocence, guilt stronger than her mascara.

Pulse bellowed in your ears,“Heather...did this?”

A sweet baby returning lifeless by the neglect of the babysitter. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,“I...It’s okay...It’s...okay.”

Proving wrong after five seconds of eerie silence, by the destructive wave of your cries. Before Lindsay could try consoling you (try being very needed), you ran away.

How could you do that? Trust Lindsay of all people? You’ve never had a greater ocean of self hatred flood your insides.

Oh man it did not feel nice.

Chris didn’t predict his nibling to run to him bawling, so he was very caught by surprise. It took him time to properly ask what was wrong given that he had to fully acknowledge that you were hurt, tremendously.

You’re so overwhelmed, you can barely speak. Your wails hold you by the throat and your face never more pinched. All Chris could do is hold you and wait for you to calm down enough to vocalise the root of your distress; whoever was responsible for that was done for.

You hiccuped,“M-My ted...ted... H-Hea...Heath...Heath...”

“Yeah, I can’t understand you,“ he nods at Chef to get a cup of water. Once obtained, he gently urged you to take your head off his body so you could drink it.

Already, your breathing was restoring back to normal and your mouth was empty.

“Better? Alright.” He pats a tissue to your face,“Tell Uncle Chris what’s gotten you all choked up.”

The evocation of it was enough to get you bawling again, and you felt that you had already burdened your uncle enough by disrupting his chat with Chef. So you decide to put the first line of context into words,“I gave Mrs Maple to Lindsay and...” then deciding to show him the pieces. He could figure it out, he’s smart.

“Oh sweet child.” he takes them in his hands, wrinkles forming under his dilated eyes in pure perturbation from what he was seeing. No wonder you were so devastated! He’ll admit, he kinda expected something like this, but not by the intention of other people,“Lindsay did this?”

“I... I don’t know...” your head is light,“She kept saying it’s Heather’s fault, but... I’m still upset I gave it to her in the first place...”

“We’ll check the camera footage, but either way, somebody isn’t going to go through just elimination tonight.” He’ll make sure of that. He takes his sight off you to place the parts of your beloved teddy down on the table, being very gravely mistaken for something else.

“Don’t throw her away!” You shriek, pulling onto his shirt of dark turquoise to prevent him from such,“Please, I’ve had her for a long time! Don’t make me get rid of her!”

He’s once again dismayed, but his tone grew resistance this time,“We won’t be doing that. It’s just the head that came off, soo we’ll sew it back on and maybe clean her. She’ll be as good as new.”

You wipe your nose,“Really?” Thank God.

He nods, stroking the top of your head,“I’ll have Chef work on it right away. As for me, I have other business to attend to. It’s all gonna be solved, I promise.”

Your tears were no more,“Thanks, Chris...” you’re serious. You don’t know what you would’ve done if he wasn’t there,“Do you think we could...play board games tonight?”

“Totally!” Best uncle ever,“We’ll do all your favourite games and we can stay up allll night. How’s that sound?” 

See? Chris wasn’t exactly the best at people comforting, but when it came to the very few people he held dear, that’s when he’s serious.

Knowing how teenagers were, especially of Heather’s textbook, he couldn’t expect a lecture to turn her heart.

But he did enforce a warning to them that harassment was off limits on those who weren’t participating.

How?

You don’t want to know.

“Hey sweetie.” Leshawna came and sat next to you during your wait for your uncle to tell you he’s free to begin board game night,“How are ya? Feeling a little bit better?” By this time, Mrs Maple was one piece again. 

You’re way too disturbed to treat her the slightest of play,“Yeah... I just... I never felt so sad in my life. I practically watched someone close to me die. When...I saw that...she was torn in two, so did my heart.”

“Aww.” she curves her hand around you and rests her head on yours,“Sorry you went through that, some people can be so miserable. You ain’t meant to be feeling all this sad, gloomy things we teens do. You just a kid!”

“I’m never giving Mrs Maple to anyone again.” Your decision thrived of bitterness.

“And that’s completely fine. She’s your toy, no one should force you to do anything you don’t wanna with her. It’s alright to be hurt, but you gotta make sure that the way you handle it is the best way to let you move on sooner.”

“Is...Is Heather going home tonight?” you needed to know. It may have been there, but you needed to hear it.

“Oh, totally. Girl dug her own grave and now, she may need to retake her passport photo.” Leshawna chuckles at the thought,“I mean, to go after a kid who did nothing and still be too much of a chicken to own up? Way out of line.”

“Will I always have to meet someone as nasty as her...?” Your puffy eyes set back to the newly placed stitches on Mrs Maple’s neck.

Leshawna sighs, rubbing your shoulder,“Unfortunately in this world we live in, there’s all kinds of sick freaks and Heather is just one of them. But you shouldn’t waste your life worryin’ about them, because there’s also really great people in your life that will always wanna look out for you, and it’s them you really wanna spend time on, ain’t it?”

“Like you?”

She smiled,“Come here, sugar.”

You felt safe enough to let Mrs Maple join in. Leshawna...she’s amazing. And would make a great big sister, if she wasn’t one already.❤️🩹

[forwhump]

a/n; sorry !!!!!!!!!!!!! (either for the delay or the fact that I’m posting again depending on how you feel about me)(I’m from mountains, canada and I drove to prairies, canada & at one point completely out of nowhere my friend was like “you could hide a military base out here so easy” I was like 👀)(silas could literally be in flatlands, manitoba we don’t even know)

anyway LOL this is for the anon that asked for more outside pov !! I was actually looking for smth hal ‘cause I have a lot more lighthearted stuff & sort of caretaking healing things from hal’s pov BUT !!! I felt partway through june needed more screen time & I went back and wrote a lot of early stuff from her pov & this is some of that & it is TOO GOOD not to post !! more wren backstory 😏 but nothing good has happened to wren in his life so y’know

tw/cw: sexual violence, rape, noncon, transphobia, misgendering, graphic depictions of violence, serious bodily harm, forced imprisonment, captivity, mentions of kidnapping, sexual slavery, medical torture

outside pov, military whump, mentions of super soldiers

June has been in the unit for about two years — she thinks — when Point comes to escort her from the common room, and it isn’t unusual. Not at first.

She safely assumes it’s for combat or field training, which are two of the only three things she ever gets escorted from the unit for. The third is medical. She’s never seen anything else, she’s never been taken to any other part of the district, and the hair on the back of her neck starts to rise as Point leads her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth, farther and farther from familiarity.

“Sir?” She tries, and he doesn’t even look at her.

He leads her to a door at the end of a long, empty hallway. He stands with his back to it, finally looking at June. Something in his jaw twitches. “Against my better judgment,” he says, and has to stop, to calm himself, closing his eyes, breathing in slowly through his nose. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at her and says, “if I had another choice, you would not be here. You are about to become privy to information only my most trusted men have been entitled to. It is contraband. If, for any reason, my superiors find out, and she is taken from me, I will not be happy. And if I’m not happy, your employment with me will be terminated by means of your life. Do I make myself clear?”

June had never seen any farther into the district than the arenas, even further underground. This is a single, armoured door, at the end of a long, empty hallway, at the junction of more long, empty hallways. “She?” June asks.

“Do I make myself clear?” Point repeats, and June’s body nods with no help from her brain.

“Sir,” she says.

Point clicks his tongue, irritated, before he unlocks and unarms the door.

It opens to the worst thing June has ever seen in her life.

“Fuck!” She says, and she doesn’t mean to, taking a quick step back. She can see Point watching her, blank, from the corner of her eye, but she can’t look at him. She doesn’t want to look anymore but she can’t pull her eyes off the body laid flat on its back on the concrete.

The costume dress is ripped and stained, tulle and gingham soaked through with blood. The body is so emaciated that June can clearly make out every bone in its leg beneath its waxy, bruised skin.

She fixates on the long, white hair. Robin has the same hair.

“Oh my fucking god,” she says.

Robin speaks of him, still, but he hasn’t been the same since this place got to him. None of them are. He isn’t frantic in the same way, but he still talks about him. When Robin talks, it’s most of what he talks about.

When he’d been taken, escorted here, his brother had been with him. The artist. They’d taken him, too. The soldiers all staunchly denied him ever even having a brother with him, so June had always assumed he’d been killed at the scene. Robin had insisted as long as he’d been there — they’d taken his brother, too. He was here somewhere.

He was right.

June feels cold all over.

“I think her pelvis is broken,” Point explains, and she has never experienced the rush of emotion she feels now, wet and hot, like a tide that breaks in her chest.

“You think her —“ she starts, and it almost makes her gag. She has to take a long breath in through her nose. She still can’t look away. “You think his pelvis is broken?”

“No,” Point admits. “Her pelvis is definitely broken.”

“Oh my fucking god,” June says again, and her voice sounds really far away. Robin’s brother has been real this whole time and Point’s been keeping him as a pet. “Oh my fucking god. You raped him to death.”

“She’s still alive,” Point says, and he says it like she’s dumb. He steps closer to nudge him in the side with the toe of his boot and Robin’s brother makes a quiet, wet sound June has only ever heard from dying men.

She reacts without thinking, shoving Point away from him. He moves, but he sneers as he looks down at her. “Stand down, January.”

“Get the fuck away from him!”

One of his eyebrows lifts, menacing. She doesn’t like Point, and she’s never liked Point, but one of the things she’s growing to loathe is his almost cartoonish villany. His mood swings are goofy and violent and it sets her teeth on edge. “I own her,” he says, low and dangerous. He leans in close. June is a big girl — Point is a massive fucking man. She doesn’t want to be intimidated by him but he speaks like a threat and his breath is hot against her face. “I can do whatever I want to her. That’s not why I brought you here.”

June would be shivering if she let herself, which is interesting because she’s actually as hot as if she’s running a fever. The sweat is cold as it trickles down her spine. “Why did you bring me here?”

Point looks down at the blood dried on the concrete, at Robin’s bleeding, broken brother, and says, “I don’t know what to do.” He looks at June slowly and his face is completely void of any emotion that June knows or recognizes.

“What?” She says.

He looks down again, back up, and she still can’t read his face at all. “I don’t want her to die,” he finally admits.

“Oh my fucking god,” June says, and she doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t know what else to say. She knew Point was a mean bastard but she never would’ve thought he would’ve been capable of this. “You should’ve thought about that before you raped him to death.”

“She doesn’t have to die,” he says.

“What do you want me to do?” June cries.

He looks at her like she’s a little stupid, which is just mind blowing, and motions to Robin’s brother with one arm. The other is held at his back, at ease.

Wren.

The name comes to her out of nowhere.

Robin’s brother is Wren.

“You’re also female,” Point explains, and kind of tilts his head, “I think.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” June says. “So?”

He motions at Wren again.

June looks at him, too, and it’s so much more horrible now that he has a name. He’d had family before, loved ones, somebody who was worried about him, and that was bad enough, but now this small, bleeding thing, broken down the middle, has a name.

Wren.

What was their last name? Some other kind of bird, wasn’t it? Was it Heron?

“I don’t know why you think I can help him,” June says.

Point’s eyebrows lift. “I figured you would’ve dealt with your share of female hysteria.”

“Female hysteria?” June repeats. “He was raped to death!”

“She isn’t fuckin’ dead!” Point snaps.

“He’s dying right now!” June cries. “You know that or you wouldn’t have come for help. What the fuck do you expect me to do? Really?”

Rage simmers in Point’s face for only a second. It’s gone just as quickly, replaced by something shier, almost more bashful. “Word is,” he says tightly, “you were a big…female advocate during your time. I thought you might’ve —“ and he cuts himself, exhaling sharply. “I thought you might’ve known somebody who’d been…hurt like her before. I thought you might know what to do.”

“They died,” June says.

“No,” Point says.

“Yes,” June corrects. “I worked around a lot of men like you. They were always civilians, always young, and they always died. Always.”

“You just let them die?” Point says, like he’s horrified by that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” June says. “He needs a doctor. Have Medic —“

“No.” When he’s not speaking with too much emotion, Point doesn’t speak with a lot. Still, this is the flattest June’s ever heard his voice.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I know what to do and that’s what I know. If those girls in the field had been allowed access to a doctor they might not have died. They would’ve had a fucking chance, at least. What do you think is —“

“No,” he says.

“You’re really just gonna let him die here?” She protests.

“She’s contraband,” Point says, flat. “I thought I made myself clear.”

“So?”

Point looks her up and down once, lip curling disdainfully. “On paper,” he says, “she was terminated on site.”

Something shivers in June’s chest and makes her breath rattle. “Oh my god.”

“She is an unsanctioned pet,” Point says, “and —“

“Oh my fucking god,” she says. She takes a step away from him and she isn’t sure when she had gotten so deep into this room. She doesn’t like it, but she’s standing between Point and Wren and she can’t bring herself to stand anywhere else.

He kind of rolls his eyes at her. “And —“

“So he was always going to die here!” June cries, and the spike of hysteria in her voice surprises even her but this is fucking unbelievable. This is unreal. This place was a hellscape when these men were just working guard detail at a fucked up mad science program making super soldiers.

She should’ve known better. She was in the military, and she knew what those men were like. Point was right, kind of; she didn’t really work as an advocate, she just got a nickname. She used to fight, physically fight stationed doctors to try and get them to help the girls the soldiers always left behind. But they were always locals, civilians; the military’s doctors weren’t authorized to help them.

She should’ve known they’d never just be working guard detail.

She just never would’ve thought they’d be keeping a fucking sex slave in the basement.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck!”

Point exhales through his nose. “Yes,” he agrees.

June puts a hand to her chest and her heartbeat is like gunfire. Robin had been so hysterical about his brother when he’d gotten here, but he’d been going through withdrawals. June had never doubted that he was real, like Hal had, but she really thought they’d killed him, and that Robin had probably just blocked it out. That he’d completely forgotten it after the lobotomy, or whatever the hell they did to him.

He’d been real this whole time and Point had been keeping him as a pet.

“Oh my fucking god.”

“I don’t want her to die,” Point admits again, and June can feel it under her hand, the way that makes her chest constrict.

“At this point it’s probably the least you can do,” she spits, and her head is spinning.

“No,” Point says, and she hates that she agrees with him, but he’s right.

She can’t let him die down here. Not like this. “He needs a doctor,” she says.

“No.”

“That’s all you can do!” she protests. “There’s no other way to help him! You broke his fucking pelvis. He probably needed a doctor six months ago but if he doesn’t get one now he’s going to die. If you don’t want him to, tell Medic.”

“They’ll take her from me,” Point says.

June throws her arms up. “Then he’ll just be dead!”

Point looks down at her for a long time and she looks right back. She thinks he’s probably trying to intimidate some hidden medical prowess out of her, but she’s serious, and at some point he sees it in her face. His lip curls back from his teeth and he leaves. Without a word, he leaves, and he locks the armoured door behind him.

“Fuck,” June says out loud, and she doesn’t mean to. Her voice breaks.

But they’re alone. At least they’re alone.

Slowly, she turns to Wren, and slowly, she sits beside him. “Hi, Wren,” she whispers. He doesn’t respond and she doesn’t really expect him to. Slowly, she reaches out to him, brushing bits of crusted hair out of his face. He looks like he’s probably really beautiful, and he looks young. He looks so young that it makes June nauseous and she has to do everything in her power to keep her voice soft and calm and sweet. She wants to scream for him. She wants to cry.

She starts to push his hair out of his face and his eyes don’t open but he flinches with his whole body. “It’s okay,” June whispers. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s June. I’m a friend of your brother.”

It stirs something in him. His head turns slowly against the concrete and his hair is so white the parts dried with blood look like they’re rusting. Blinking open his eyes, he looks up at her, and he has eyes so much darker than June was expecting. He has really, really dark, really wide eyes, bloodshot and bruised underneath, and he looks up at June from beneath wet eyelashes and it makes him look even younger and she cries with him, then. She can’t help herself.

“Robin?” He asks, but just barely. His voice is really small, but when June strains to hear it, she can hear Robin’s accent, softer and sweeter. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah,” June agrees, smiling wetly, “and he’s clean. He’s all big now, looks like a real cowboy. They fixed his teeth, too. He’s got a great smile.”

He chokes out a wet sound that June only realizes is a sob when a tear clears a track in the grime on his face.

“I know,” she agrees softly. “Really seems like you got the shitty end of the deal here.”

He makes another choked sound and June likes to imagine that in another life, he got to laugh towards the end. “I’m gonna die,” he says, and June can hear it in how thin, how wet his voice is, that yeah, he probably is, “aren’t I?”

“I think so,” June whispers. “I hope not.”

He chokes out another sound, another sob. “I think I want to,” he whispers, and his brittle voice breaks. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“I know,” she agrees. “I think I would, too.” He moves his head, tips his face up towards the ceiling, and strips of flesh have been peeled from the side of his throat. She takes his hand so carefully, and she doesn’t look at the bruising around his wrist or every one of his broken fingernails. “I don’t think I’d want to be alone,” she explains.

He makes a choked sort of sound. “I’m never alone.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Do you want to be alone now?” His fingers tighten around June’s, almost frantic, and she says, “it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezes his fingers as much as she’s comfortable, which is just barely. “Couldn’t get very far if I wanted to.”

She’s crying, but that feels rude. What does she have to cry about? She tries to wipe her eyes with the back of her other hand and says, “I’m really sorry this happened to you.”

He doesn’t say anything but his fingers are still shaking so June knows he’s still alive. He’s so cold she thinks it would be hard to tell, otherwise. She doesn’t think she’d let go of his hand either way.

They sit there for such a long time that June thinks that Point’s left them both to die. She holds Wren’s hand and cries for him when he isn’t conscious to hear it. When the door is finally opened again, she jumps so hard it feels like it throws something out in her back.

Jumping to her feet, she keeps Wren safely behind her as Point filters back in, face blank. Close at his back is Medic and June sobs out loud.

She would go as far as to say she likes Medic. A trauma surgeon, Medic is a good doctor and he’s kind to them. He’s a prisoner, too. He doesn’t want to be there, either. Him and the entire rest of his team are fitted with collars, flickering at all times with dangerous red light. Insubordination will lead to electrocution which will lead to death.

Medic is a prisoner and he’s one of if not the only person down here with any sort of humanity left. He reacts to Wren like any normal person would — with horror.

He recoils so hard it makes him take a step back, and he bumps into June. Neither of them acknowledge it. “What the fuck?”

Point opens his arms, dismissive. “Fix her.”

“Who is this?”

“Who cares?” Point says. “Can you fix her?”

“What the fuck?” Medic repeats, ragged. “What did you do to her? Who is this?”

“Robin’s brother,” June says, and Medic looks at her with eyes blown wide with horror.

They blow even wider with realization. He looks at Point slowly. “What the fuck?”

“You’re wasting time,” Point says. “She’s dying.”

“His pelvis is broken,” June tells him quietly, and Medic sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Fuck me,” he says. He rubs his face slowly, but if there’s one thing June likes best about Medic, it’s that she respects him. When he lowers his hands, he looks at Point. He says, “get the fuck out. Take June back to the unit, and stay the fuck away. If you try to see him at any point while he’s in my care, I will fucking kill you. You understand?”

Point’s lip curls back from his teeth. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do, doc.”

“Then maybe we’ll have Weaver come down here and take a look at him instead,” Medic says.

Point snarls, actually snarls, like some kind of fucked up beast, and the way the sound reverberates through the room is deeply unsettling. But he takes June by the arm, and he turns.

June turns to look over her shoulder, but Medic closes the door between them. As she turns back around, she sees it’s because Point tried to look back, too.

She doesn’t say anything to Robin. Maybe that’s the wrong choice, she isn’t sure. What would the right choice be? Would she wanna know, if it was her? What if she’d been lobotomized?

She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t see Medic for months. When she does she’s sitting in a bed in the medical bay, trying to peer around for any sign of him. The medical bay, unfortunately, was designed for privacy; the size of a large airplane hanger, there are enough beds for a small army but spaced out far enough that June can’t peer end to end.

When the door is pushed open and Medic lifts the corner of his mouth at her, she has a bullet in her arm but she forgets that it hurts and blurts, “is he okay?”

Medic smiles a little more properly and the relief that crests in June’s chest almost makes her start crying out of nowhere. “No,” he says, “but he’s getting there. He’s alive.”

“Oh my fucking god,” she says, and he laughs. “Can I see him?”

“Let’s get this bullet out of you,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

A few months after that, somebody new is introduced to their unit. Like every other time, they don’t know until the guards show up with them. The new guy, this time, has long white hair, the same colour as Robin’s.

June cries pretty uncontrollably.

Robin doesn’t cry — can’t, maybe? — but June cries enough for him, too.

[angel-anachronism]

May I request a Mischa Bachinski x reader where the reader is subtlety flirting with him and one of the members of the choir helps him realize that he’s in love with the reader. Thanks 😊

Oooooh, that sounds very adorable! Here's your order of a Mischa Bachinski x reader one shot where (Y/N) subtly flirts with Mischa and Mischa doesn't admit to his feelings, until the choir helps him admit it! (Btw I wrote this at school on my phone so it's not the best quality of writing, but it's honest work)

Have a good day/night anon <3(and also to the person reading this :D)

(Tw: None!)

word count: 1,189 words

I won't say I'm in love (Mischa Bachinski x gn!reader fluff)

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓪'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

"You're very handsome today, Mischa!" I looked at (Y/N) who just complimented me while we were doing our algebra homework at the school library. I grinned at them.

"Thanks bro!" I said, making a fist out of my hand so that we can fist bump. Me and (Y/N) have been homies since I first came to Canada. They helped me with my YouTube channel, they help me feel better after my parents act like I don't exist, and they help me with my homework when I don't understand, just like right now.

As I was waiting for my fist bump, I saw (Y/N) looking sad. What is wrong? Do they not understand this exercise. But they are way smarter at me when it comes to math, especially at algebra. I can try helping them with this exercise, since its easy.

"Hey bro, do you need help?" I asked. They looked at me and then their cheeks became warmer. Are they ill? I put my hand on their forehead, and their cheeks became even more warmer, but their forehead remained cold.

"You have very smooth yet strong hands." They smirked at me.

"Oh you're not sick. That's good!" I said as I got back to writing. I heard them sigh for some reason, but when I looked at them, they were writing., with a bored expression. They are probably not feeling well. We should really go to the pharmacy after school.

We were writing some more, and helping eachother.

As we were writing, (Y/N) put a hand on my hand, and looked at me in the eyes.

"Mischa I really have to take something out of my chest...I-" "Mr/Ms/Mx (L/N), Mr Lewis wants to talk to you about the upcoming math contest." I saw a teacher come to get (Y/N), so that our math teacher, Mr Lewis, can prepare them for the contest. I saw (Y/N) have an angry expression.

"Ugh, killjoy...I'm coming!" (Y/N) muttered the first part so that no one could hear them. Before they left, they ruffled my hair and ran to the teacher. My cheeks became warmer. What is this feeling? Am I also sick?

"Mischa, I didn't think you would be here out of all places." I suddenly got out of my thoughts as someone spoke from behind me. It was the ginger from the choir, Ocean, together with Noel, Constance, the new girl...I believe Penny was her name, and Ricky.

"Why is your face that red. You look redder than Ocean's hair" Noel giggled for some reason, and Ocean started glaring at him. "OH I'M JUST...sweaty?" I laughed nervously trying to hide my face.

Ricky sat next to me and started writing in his notebook. "He's lying" was written on the paper.

"Mischa, did you see a girl...or boy...or somebody that made you blush?" Asked Constance, looking nervously at the ground.

"Ooooohhhh, the angriest boy in town has a little crush on somebody," Noel said before putting his hand to his mouth. "Wonder who is the lucky fella" He giggled like a girl.

"With who were you hanging out today? Maybe they are the reason why he's blushing." The new girl said in a quiet voice.

"Good idea, Penelope!" Said Ocean. The new girl gave an awkward laugh before saying: "My name is Penny, not Penelope..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Penny! I keep forgetting since you're so new here!" Ocean said with sadness in her voice before looking at me and giving me a devilish smirk.

"So...Who did you hang out with, Mischa?" Asked Ocean.

"You aren't a cop! You can't ask me these stupid questions." I said as I covered my face with a book.

"C'mon, Mishka! Would you please tell me who you hung out with to little ol' me?" Noel asked as he sat next to me and put his finger on his cheeks, which created dimples, and gave me puppy eyes.

"Ok, fine! I hung out with (Y/N) since they're my homie." I responded. Both Ocean and Noel said "Ooohhh!" As they were flapping their hands. Why did they react like that?

"Seems like somebody's in love!" Laughed Constance. What are they talking about? (Y/N) is my bro, my homie, my dawg, my bestie, my everything...WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING, THEY ARE ONLY MY FRIEND.

"Pft, nah. It's not like I think of them every second." I laughed awkwardly.

"C'mon Mischa, just admit it, you like (Y/N) more than a friend," Noel said, looking bored of everything I say.

"BUT I DON'T! Like yeah, they're smart, sweet...handsome/pretty.........Oh god, I think I'm really in love!" I said in shock.

"HURRAY HE ADMITTED!" Wrote Ricky in the notebook, with a grin on his face.

"Go get 'em, champ!" Said Noel as he and Ocean pushed me out the door.

"HEY, I FORGOT MY PHONE!" I yelled as I was trying to get inside the school library, but I couldn't.

"Nuh-huh! Not until you admit your feelings for them!" Giggled Ocean together with Noel.

"BUT WHAT IF THEY DON'T ACCEPT MY LOVE?" I asked.

"They will! Didn't you see what lovey Dovey puppy dog eyes they give you every time we are at choir practice? They'll 100% accept your love!" Said Noel.

As I had nothing else to do, I decided to search for them.

(𝓨/𝓝)'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

"Goodbye, Mr/Ms/Mx (L/N)! See you next Wednesday at the math contest!" Said Mr. Lewis and I waved back.

I was ready for the upcoming math contest, yet I'm still nervous. Not because of the math contest, but because I have to admit my feelings to Mischa at some point...

Speaking about Mischa, he came running toward me and hugged me, while flinging me through the air.

Wait, what is happening????

He put me back down, and got on one knee, and took off his cap.

"My dear (Y/N). I have finally got back to my senses, which have told me that you are the one for me. You were always there for me, through my ups and downs. When I look into your eyes, I don't see the boy I am, but the man I have to become to be with you. I'll love you for all of eternity, but only if you accept, and even if you don't accept, I'll still love you. Now, will you accept my simple declaration of love for you?" He said, holding my hand.

I was on the verge of tears, and got on my knee, and hugged him. "YES!YEYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYEYES!" I kept repeating the word "Yes" until I started crying. He hugged me back, and started crying too.

𝓞𝓬𝓮𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

"I was right! They really are in love with each other!" I said and smirked at Noel.

He rolled his eyes while groaning, and gave me 5 dollars. "Well played Satan,. well played!"

THE END

𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 >> 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 (𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈)

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Script of something that happened this morning.

"Oh no, I've decided I want to sit down, once I get on the train, and mark up my itinerary, which I printed before coming here because I do not trust technology. Yet, the only two pens I brought to England, I left at Douglas Adams' grave. How do I solve this before the train arrives?"

[looks around the station and sees:]

[remembers that episode of The Thick of It when Chris Addison is trying to convince the party to keep Hugh Abbott in his spot:] "Hugh, he's like W H Smith, isn't he? You don't think about him when he's here, but if he were gone one day, you'd be like - where am I going to get my pens?"

I went in and purchased some pens. Problem solved.

That has been a fun thing about London, the brand names off TV. When I first got in, I saw a plaza with about 6 stores in a row, none of which I'd seen in person before, but I realized I could hear all their names in Lee Mack's voice, because they're all staple references on panel show jokes. TK Max, B and Q, Asda. I know what those are. I've seen Would I Lie to You. I've heard lies set in all those places.

Anyway, I'm currently eating a sausage roll on a train like a character in a panel show joke. I had a sausage roll yesterday to see what was this food they always reference on TV. Had one today because I was hungry and they sold them at the train station. It's a good thing I don't live here because I probably shouldn't eat more of then.

I'm on a train to Cambridge, it left from King's Cross. And like I've said, when I get excited about Harry Potter buildings, it isn't really about Harry Potter. It's not even a case of seeing something British and thinking that's like Harry Potter (unlike, say, British stores that make me immediately say "it's like a panel show"). There are Harry Potter buildings in Canada - just not nearly as many of them, because the country in its current (colonized) form isn't nearly as old. London is full of them, and that's the novelty.

I could really just say "old buildings", that's what I mean. But not just that. As someone pointed out to me, the Empire State Building is old, and that's not a Harry Potter building. I mean old buildings that look like they could be in a fantasy novel.

So that's what I get excited about, not stuff directly related to Harry Potter. Mostly. But I have to say, it was cool to go to King's Cross and see Platforms 9 and 10, and the space between where you'd go for 9 3/4.

I got on the train at platform 9, got a picture of platforms 9 and 10 from the train, that was a cool thing that's actually Harry Potter related.

There was a pretend cart going into the wall that could not have been less interesting to me, it wasn't even in the right place. But I liked the actual station.

So I'm going to Cambridge to look for Harry Potter buildings. Although these might be better described as Douglas Adams buildings, as I really want to see where the first Dirk Gently book was set.

I'll see how it goes. I saw a few old fantasy building-based London tourist spots yesterday (calling them "old fantasy buildings" because calling Westminster Cathedral and St. Paul's Cathedral "Harry Potter buildings" seems a little too offensive, even for me), and as impressive as they were, I couldn't really get into them because there were so many people around. I enjoyed the quieter parts much more. After I finished with the giant impressive churches that were beautiful but left me cold, I sat for two hours in an old pub where I was the only person in a dimly lit basement with my non-alcoholic bitter beer, and I think I found God in there.

I'm... I'm joking about finding God in a pub when I couldn't in a church, but you should see the post I wrote while sitting there, as I contemplated the way it's easier to find magic in little quiet things than in big important things. No, actually, you shouldn't see that post. You're all lucky I decided the world does not need to hear me attach too much sentimentality to unimportant buildings once again, so I decided not to actually hit "post" on that one. In the less sentimental light of day, I will just say, look how cool this pub is:

And an update on my comedy tourism, I went to the Soho Theatre last night:

Oh, how's this for comedy tourism? I took this picture and immediately sent it to my dad, because his frequent playing of Radio 4 in the car when I was growing up did a significant amount to shape my entire personality. There used to be a lot of Sorry I Haven't a Clue on road trips.

Here, have some British countryside between London and Cambridge, taken from a train window:

[zoeyslament]

Christmas in Uranium

A Ride the Cyclone Christmas oneshot I wrote, below the cut. Minor tws for dr*g mentions and swearing.

Oh yeah also it’s Nischa and PerfectDolls haha

I included a “bonus character” in here with a name I headcanon him to have, surprise!!

The first snowfall of the year came on November 25th. The air had cooled down significantly since the Fall Fair, and classes were back in full swing. The Christmas season had begun (despite Ocean’s insistence that it didn’t start until December first) and that could mean only one thing: the choir’s annual Secret Santa Swap. 

“Okay everyone!” Ocean climbed atop the wiggly stool, balancing herself by holding onto a table. She had in hand a top hat stolen from the costume closet behind the stage, filled with slips of paper. “I want everyone to pick a piece of paper to see who you’ll be shopping for this year!” She announced to the choir, who were gathered around her, watching with emotions that ranged from excitement to disdain. 

“I’ll go first!” She dug her hand into the hat, read off her piece of paper, then tucked it in the pocket of her dress. “Ricky, you go next.” 

Ricky adjusted his neon green sweater, which was far too big for him as it was, and reached out for the hat. He smiled when he read off the name, then took the hat from Ocean and passed it to Constance, who took a slip for herself then passed it to Penny. Penny drew a name, looking it over and looking slightly uneasy, then passed the hat to Noel, who took one for himself and passed the remaining piece to Mischa, without unfolding it. 

“The gift swap officially ends on December 15th!” Ocean reminded them. “Happy shopping!” 

“So…” Penny slumped down on Ricky’s beanbag chair a few days later. “I have no idea how to shop for presents. I got Connie, and she’s always making such sweet gifts for everyone, I don’t think anything I could get her could stack up!” 

Ricky looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m not much good at it either, to be honest. Normally I’d tell you to burn the paper in a fire, but since it’s Christmas, I have to be nice. Just…buy from the heart?”

”My heart is a raccoon.” Penny smiled. Ricky glanced at her, but Penny decided not to provide further information. 

“Yeah…right.” Ricky nodded along. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He stood up, grabbed his crutches, then started to make his way out. “I’m gonna grab a snack, want one?” She shook her head. “I’m gonna get going, I have shopping to do!!”

”Of course I get stuck buying for Ocean…” Noel grumbled, tossing himself onto his bed and staring up at the fairy lights that hung from his ceiling. “The biggest bitch in the entirety of St. Cassian’s, and I somehow have to come up with a gift she’ll like.”

He rolled over so his head was nestled against his pillow, burrowing into a blanket. “Well, I mean, she doesn’t have to like it, but it needs to be creative, at least. But maybe I should be nice just this one time?” He sighed, talking to no one in particular. “Think, think, what does Ocean like? School, being a bitch, most likely Penny…” he trailed off. He had an idea, and best of all, it wouldn’t take a single dollar!

“Ocean!” Mischa was banging on the ginger’s door a few days into the Secret Santa Swap time. “I need help with swap. It is not easy to buy present. I have no money. And also no ideas.” 

Ocean opened the door. “Mischa it’s ten o clock at night. In December. In Canada. It’s negative four degrees, where is your jacket?”

”Ukrainian men do not feel cold!” Mischa snapped, despite his chattering teeth and shivering form. “Only rage and-“

”Passion, yes Mischa, I get it.” Ocean sighed. “Come inside and I can help you with the gift thing.” She opened the door to her house. 

Mischa’s nose was nearly blown off—the entire place smelled of weed. Ocean seemed rather ashamed of this. “I know that face.” She said darkly. “My room smells better, I promise.” She pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. “In there.”

Mischa opened it up. Ocean’s room was vastly different than the rest of the house—while what he’d seen of the kitchen and living room was messy and grimy and smelled of drugs, Ocean’s bedroom was spotless and smelled of lavender and rosemary, thanks to one of those insense diffusors. The bed was neatly made—a twin sized mattress with pure white sheets and pillowcases. The walls were pale grey, the curtains sky blue, the ceiling and trim were white. It looked like a room you’d find at a rental house, almost as if Ocean put in effort to make it look like nobody lived there at all. 

She sat down in the chair in the corner, just a plain grey armchair, and looked at Mischa. “Who did you get for the swap if you don’t mind me asking?”

He glanced down at his feet, his face a bit red. Ocean got the memo. “Well, you know what he likes.” She said. “But… I feel your pain. I got Penny.”

Mischa scrunched his brow in confusion. “You like Penny? I thought you were…not a girl kisser.”

”The word is heterosexual, Mischa. You would be, erm, correct. Yeah, I must have misunderstood you. But…you got Noel, yes?”

”Yes.” He folded his hands. “What am I supposed to do? He is my poet!”

Ocean bit her lower lip in questioning. “Well, he doesn’t know you like him, right? He’s pretty dense. Not as dense as you, but dense, still. Maybe your Christmas present to him could be…” she mimed a ‘kissy face’. 

“And you could do same for Penny?” He chuckled, to which Ocean huffed. 

“I told you, I don’t like Penny.” She insisted. “Now are you going home or staying here?”

He sighed. “Neither is ideal. Your house smells like the boys’ bathroom by the teachers’ lounge. You know, the one where they-“

”Smoke weed, yes, I know.” Ocean finished. “My parents are really into…that stuff.” She scrambled to her desk, pulled a pack of matches out of the drawer, and proceeded to light another candle. “Perfect.”

“Mhm.” He looked back at Ocean’s. “I think I’ll go home. Smells better there.”

The walk home was tedious to say the least. Ocean lived on the very end of a one-way, dead-end street that led all the way through the woods that surround Uranium City, which, though sparse, were dark and scented of pitch. Mischa kicked up pebbles and sidewalk salt on the way home. The road was mostly clear, but he feared patches of black ice.

”Whole thing’s so dumb. I’ll never find something suitable for poet. May as well just give up.” He muttered, the cold night wind scooping up his words like air beneath a bird’s gentle wings. He remembered what his mother had told him about giving gifts, that the best ones came from the heart, but that was back in Ukraine, when the only person who would even want to give him a gift was his mother. Now, with a whole group of friends, and some very confusing feelings about Noel, this whole gift-giving thing was hard. 

When he finally got home, he was surprised to find the front door left unlocked for him. Usually it was shut and locked tight after his foster parents went to bed, whether Mischa was inside the house or not. Perhaps this was their early Christmas present to him.

He slipped inside and locked the door behind him for those fuckers’ sake, then made his way down the basement steps to his makeshift bedroom, which was really just a futon and a tv positioned on a milk crate. There was a shabby old rug, as well as a cardboard box filled with his foster parents’ old junk: a sewing machine and some scraps of fabric, a half-broken coffee maker, and a clock that was missing the hour hand. 

Mischa sat down on the futon and tore off the clothes he was wearing, leaning back for sleep in just his boxers, when he saw something peeking out of the box of junk: a spool of thread, with a needle sticking into it. Mischa remembered when his mother used to sew with him, little projects, like book-marks and pillowcases, but he imagined he could probably pull something off if he tried. So from that old box, Mischa, still clad only in his heart-patterned boxer shorts, gathered a pile of materials, fired up the sewing machine, and got to work. 

“What on Earth do I buy for someone who spends half his time drinking cheap vodka, and the other half watching slasher flicks?” Ricky stroked the head of his soft grey tabby cat, Buzz. Buzz purred and rolled over for belly rubs, but was no help in the Christmas shopping department. Ricky chuckled. “Everyone needs a cat like you, huh buddy? You’re like…free therapy with fur!” The cat rolled over again, this time sticking his rump up for Ricky to pet, and the boy obliged happily. 

“Maybe Mischa would appreciate a cat,” he laughed, “though I personally wouldn’t trust him with a creature’s life. I’m surprised he hasn’t accidentally burnt his house down yet.” Buzz gave a little ‘mrrp’ sound, as if he was agreeing. 

“Seriously, Buzzy Boy,” Ricky said impatiently. “Feels wrong to buy him, like, alcohol, but what else can I do? It’s not like he has any other interests besides rap and being angry.” He chewed on his inner cheek, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “I’m at a loss for words.” 

Buzz leaped off Ricky’s lap, swishing his tail around his body and moving to groom himself with one of his forepaws. Ricky shifted his weight, glancing at Buzz, now down on the floor amongst Ricky’s scattering of art supplies.

Ricky was quite the artist in his spare time. He spent a lot of time making comics about Zolar and the Space-Age Bachelor Man, mostly for his own enjoyment. Then, he was struck with an idea. Amongst his art supplies were some pieces of scrap wood, previously part of a solar system model for class. But if he could cut them just right, paint them…

A meow interrupted his train of thought: Buzz was teetering precariously close to a recent work, which Ricky had done with paints. “No no, Buzz! Your-“

Crash!

Buzz recoiled and frantically tried to get all the paint off of his tail, which just resulted in all of the paint being knocked over. Ricky sighed. Brainstorming session was over, cleaning session had just begun. 

“Connie, whatcha doin?” A small voice asked from behind a door. It wasn’t even seven in the morning the Saturday before the swap, which was to take place on a Sunday, but the Blackwoods’ kitchen was already filled with the scents of fresh baked pastries and sweet fruits. Constance was standing in the center of the kitchen, surrounded by bowls and spoons and boxes of ingredients. 

“Oh! Henry!” She laughed. “Good morning!” Her little brother sleepily rubbed his eyes. 

“Whats with all the yummies? The sun just woke up.”

Constance laughed and set down the bowl of egg whites she was whipping, then scooped up Henry. “I’m perfecting a new cake recipe! You wanna help?” 

Henry nodded. “Can I lick the bowl?” 

She broke out in a grin. “Would I ever say no to you?” She set him down and handed him a bowl and some flour. “Four cups, and make sure you measure carefully!”

Constance had poured years of work into helping Henry become the best baking assistant she could ask for. And he really was incredible at it. A few moments later, she was provided with four cups of flour. “Thanks buddy!”

”What kinda cake are you making?” He prodded her again, tugging at her tattered purple lacy apron.

“Hey! No touching that.” She protested. “You know this old apron is falling apart and you aren’t helping.”

He pouted. “Sorry Connieeee~” he whined, to which she just sighed and smiled. “You wanna see what kind of cake I’m trying to make?” 

“Well…” Constance pointed to a piece of paper she had laid out on the kitchen table. “Take a peek!”

”Woahhhh~” Henry stared at it in awe. “Is that a space cake?” 

The drawing she had made was of a three-tiered cake, swirled with galaxy-hued icing and topped with what seemed to be an alien cat, probably made out of fondant or marzipan. 

“Space cake is an understatement.” She laughed, peering over his shoulder. “This is Ricky’s Christmas present. Think he’ll like it?” 

“He’s gonna love it!” Henry assured her, bouncing back to her side. “What kinda taste is it?”

”Oh, flavour? Marble!”

Henry looked up at her, eyes glimmering in confusion. “You put marbles in a cake? That doesn’t sound like it will taste too good, Connie. Why don’t you make it ‘nilla or chocolate?” 

“No, no,” she laughed, snorting a bit as she did so. “Marble just means it’s vanilla and chocolate swirled together.”

“So there’s no marbles in it?” Henry asked again, just to confirm. 

“No marbles. Wanna taste the icing?”

“Mhm!”

With Henry’s breakfast completely spoiled by sugar, Constance started cleaning up her mess, when there was a knock on the door. “Now who in Uranium is gonna show up this early? It’s seven in the morning! Mom and dad aren’t even awake yet!”

She got the door, revealing the paint-covered form of Ricky Potts in her doorway. 

Crap! She thought. His cake! He can’t know about that! 

Constance stepped out onto the front porch and slammed the door shut behind her. “Sorry. Messy in there. Henry’s baking.” She lied, hoping it wasn’t too blatantly obvious. Ricky, although far from dumb, seemed to buy it enough. “Also, why are you covered in paint?”

”Long story. Do you have stain remover?” 

“Not that I know of. Mom has to go grocery shopping today. You can try Noel though, he lives just up the street and he’s always got all that stuff. God forbid he get a single stain on that dress of his.” She explained. “I’ve gotta help Henry, and uh…” she tried to think of another believable lie. “Sew this.” She fingered with the hem of her apron. 

Ricky nodded along to all of this. “Thanks for the advice, Connie. See you tomorrow, at the secret swap thing?”

”See you then!”

The swap was held at Constance’s house, per her request. Her gift, apparently, was far too big for her to transport very far on her own. When the group got there, Constance was proudly displaying the most massive cake any of them had ever seen, and Henry was beaming as he showed it off. 

“Merry Christmas, Ricky!” Constance beamed as the male walked through the door, “From me and Henry!”

Ricky admired the cake for a long while, and probably would have done so for longer if his duty hadn’t called. He set his wrapped present, which was rather flat and rectangular, in Mischa’s hands. When the taller unwrapped it, he revealed a picture frame. The outside was painted with all sorts of colours and little green money symbols, $, which Mischa was greatly amused by. The picture in the center was of the whole choir at the Fall Fair, their hair all messed up and their faces reddened from a ride on the roller coaster there, just an old wooden one called The Cyclone. 

Mischa grinned. “Ricky, man, did I ever tell you what my mother told me about gifts?” 

Ricky shook his head. 

“She always said hand-made was best. Thank you, Space Jesus. I will treasure it for life.” 

At this moment, Penny shot to her feet. “My turn!” She held out a box, one of the ones that always held clothing when it was wrapped and under the tree. “For you.” She passed it to Constance. 

Constance tore at the wrapping, Henry helping to clean up the scraps. She opened the box and pulled out an apron: pale purple in hue, with little gold, pink, white, and blue clouds painted on with puffy paint. Her eyes started to tear up. “Penny…this is gorgeous…and my current apron is falling apart and…” she enveloped Penny in a quick hug. “You have no idea how much it means.”

”I suppose it is my turn, now.” Mischa held out a very lumpy, unevenly wrapped gift. He gave it a gentle toss toward Noel, who caught it without an issue. He ripped the paper off, and inside was the most beautiful ugly thing he’d ever seen. 

It was many different colours, really: blues and reds and greens and shades of grey and pink and everything in between. Its eyes were buttons, and it took the shape of a bear. Clearly homemade, and Mischa had really seemed to have poured his entire soul into the plush. 

If Constance had made a big deal shedding tears over the apron, than this was worse, because Noel was absolutely weeping, curled into Mischa’s side, holding the plush bear. 

Ocean, who really hadn’t spoken much since this whole thing had begun, got to her feet. “Listen, Penny…” she met the brunette’s eyes. “I really had no idea what to get you, and this really isn’t much…” she held out a tiny box, wrapped in gold paper with silver ribbons bound around it. Penny took great care not to tarnish it too much. 

Inside the box sat a very tiny clay lamb, painted as pure and white as freshly fallen snow. It was gorgeous and shiny and Penny looked at it in awe. “I…Ocean…” 

Ocean smiled. “Is it enough?”

”It’s plenty.” Penny finished. And with that, she shot to her feet, and pecked Ocean on the cheek. 

By the time the redhead calmed down from the little kiss, Noel’s tears had mostly dried. With a satisfied smirk, he held out Ocean’s present, a card, a gift card was what she expected. But when she opened it, all she found was a picture of a dog. A white dog. With the words “I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE” written across the front. On the back side of the slip of paper, Noel had written a note:

Congrats on coming out, Oce. Please kiss Penny before she dies of lesbian pining.

<3 Noel

(meme for reference)

[ladysophiebeckett]

need to talk all of you about this amazing movie i watched after watching a couple of duds (sometimes we have to watch duds to find gold)--

and you think 'oh its another hallmark movie'--no. as u can see it's 'reel one entertainment'. dont confuse them. (its like the same thing)

anyway--'the marry me pact', starring Rejected Property Brother #19203 (i assume they have more of them in canada) and Brunette American Carey Mulligan--brings the drama in this 'my best friends wedding' rip off.

opens with rory (rejected property brother) on his 29th birthday reminding 'charlotte' of the pact they made at 21--(bc some girl dumped him) that if he wasn't married by 30 he could marry his best friend charlotte (american carey mulligan). and rory wants to cash in bc this is his face when charlotte says 'yeah but u weren't serious right?'

he was charlotte. he was.

so then she buys him a plane ticket out of miami to like, south america or something. as a present.

then its a year later.

charlotte visits a psychic for research purposes (she's a writer). the psychic tells her 'hey girl there's a man in ur life and also a pact to marry him'. she got all that fm tarot cards. but at no point does she actually do any book research. its over. now the idea of getting a man is in her head.

and boy does it. bc then at the end of the day shes like 'what if rory is the love of my life???' uh u didnt even want him a year ago....

psychic tells her one thing and she's all in.

then rory calls her and is like 'im back in miami' and says 'i have some things i need to tell you'

so they're at dinner (it's pizza at her sister's restaurant. bc a man wrote this so they just eat pizza its their favorite food blah blah blah) and he's like 'yeah i want to settle down. i started to envision that for myself', she's like---

thinking he's gonna say its her. out of nowhere.

but then rory says 'i met rachel!'

charlotte:

then rory's like 'oh yeah we're engaged. and getting married in 3 weeks. and also can u be my best man? and on top of that, can u help me plan my wedding, bc im absolutely useless'.

charlotte: uhh

rory: you're gonna love her. she's a nerd like you. she loves food, like you. she loves the green witch fm that musical, like you. in fact, why dont you meet her right now?

yes, why dont we.

this is charlotte and rachel hugging:

this is rachel in case you're confused.

and this all three of them having wine in his kitchen--

that's right. rory went to south america and found the first american brunette that looked like charlotte and called it a day.

this man is sick.

then charlotte's like 'damn it looks like u couldnt get rory to have better taste in art' and rory's like 'uhh that's one of rachel's paintings' and then rachel spills wine on charlotte. but it was an accident.

im not kidding that really happens and i laughed.

moving on to another hilarious moment--charlotte's finally checking her fan mail that's been sitting in her organized office for 6 months--and what does she see? a postcard rory wrote her from chile declaring his love for her and he says in it 'you dont have to reply and nothing will change between us if you dont feel the same way'

charlotte reading this like--

and what does she do after this? nothing. she just mopes. like a loser.

then later, somehow in a big city like miami, they all run into each other---

the woman in blue is charlotte's pizza sister, she has a boring ass romantic subplot of her own but it doesn't matter.

the script makes it a point to tell us that rory and charlotte love bookstores bc they 'make them feel safe' while rachel the fiancée complains that she likes hitchcock movies but rory falls asleep during them.

rachel is such a loser for liking 'psycho' meanwhile im pretty sure rory's lying about knowing how to read.

anyway he has the audacity to complain that charlotte hasn't been helping him plan his wedding to another woman, literally in front of her (rachel). bc apparently charlotte's been blowing him off. gee, i wonder why.

then he tricks her into going to find a tux and then he tricks her into trying out a wedding dress with the excuse of 'i just want to make sure i look good standing next to rachel in her dress'

we dont even know what rachel's wearing. but sure.

anyway, this little freak got what he wanted.

then charlotte's like 'can u get my shoe off, its stuck in the dress' idk how that even happens but whatever--

then that little freak got what she wanted. ect ect.

of course we get a scene of his brother saying 'hey we always thought you would marry rory lol' and then charlotte leaves immediately.

then we meet the psychic again who says she got a vision of a woman in a wedding dress leaving a wedding. and we think 'oh is she gonna run out on rory?' but the psychic says, what i think is a great line, 'my child, i dont get visions of the future. i get visions of the past'

charlotte and anyone watching this: what?

psychic: i dont make the rules.

this is the worst psychic in miami. she'll give you the lottery's numbers but it'll be the winning numbers fm like, a year ago.

so then its like 10 days before the wedding and we're doing cake testing with rory, rachel and his best friend charlotte.

rachel when charlotte shows up:

rachel (in private), is like ' wtf is she doing here??'

rory: shes helping us out.

rachel: i thought this was something we could decide together??

rory: i could tell her to go...she does find this all tedious..

rachel: no..i dont want to make things uncomfortable

rory: i think u should be happy someone like her is helping me tho bc im so stupid :\

rachel: yeah ur right :\

personally i think rory is getting away with too much.

so theyre tasting cakes but rory and rachel dont agree and ask charlotte and of course charlotte like's rory's choice, which leads to another hilarious moment--

rachel: well what do you know about wedding cake?

charlotte: i know you never ate your first one

and then rachel almost chokes on her own spit.

fast forward--rory's like 'what was that about?' and charlotte's like 'uh nothing'.

rory: do you mind cutting rachel some slack? its important to me that you two get along.

charlotte: i promise.

so now rory has two women apologizing to him for fuck ups he initiated.

let me remind you that a man wrote this.

then charlotte has to apologize to rachel and takes her to a Hitchcock retrospective. rachel's tells us about her failed engagement that happened 'years ago'. but then charlotte stalks down the ex fiancé and finds out rachel left him a year ago. not 'years ago'.

and if you think that's gonna come up later or be resolved--you're wrong.

then charlotte had to help rory find the location of his wedding and we find out that he hasnt written his vows.

rory: u know im terrible at writing. you'll help me right?

like,,,is there anything rory's good at? i dont think so.

now im fastforwarding filler scenes to get to the bachelor weekend--

the boys and charlotte go on some partnered up seeing sight hike and rory's sprains his ankle in his attempt at trying to win...something.

later that night, charlotte and rory have a talk.

rory: im sorry about the hike. i rushed into it--

charlotte: like you do everything--

rory: what does that mean??

charlotte: you rush into everything--today, the south america trip, this wedding--

rory: you supported me doing that trip--u basically bullied me into doing it--

(she did no such thing)

rory: u dont like rachel. that's the problem.

charlotte: that is not true. i dont think u should be declaring that you're gonna spend the rest of your life with someone u dont even know.

rory: why are you telling me this now? my wedding is next week.

charlotte: exactly! i dont want you making some huge mistake! maybe you need more time to decide if this is something you really want--

rory: i do want this

charlotte: does she?

rory: what are you talking about?

and then charlotte spills about rachel's runaway bride incident and shes like 'does that sound like someone who knows what she wants??'rory's like 'you went behind my back'. which is not true imo.

rory: i would have thought you had more faith in me, as my best friend.

charlotte: your best friend? you barely contacted me while you were away.

rory: i contacted you. i wrote to you. i told you i had feelings for you. that i had feelings for you for years. you ignored it.

charlotte: i never got the post card. not until recently.

rory:

charlotte: it's too late now anyway

rory, grasping at straws: i mean...do u feel the same??

charlotte: it doesnt matter now does it?

rory, still grasping at straws: doesn't it??

and then charlotte says what i think is the best line in this whole movie---

charlotte: no because you left the fate of our relationship to the postal service!

(i just want to say that it is no way the post office's fault. that fan mail bag was in her office long before that. so the USPS delivered. she just just never bothered to read her fanmail. USPS is a great service and we should continue to support it. thank you. )

rory, seeing that he's not gonna his shot with charlotte: so why are you bringing this up to me now? we had all of our 20's for you to tell me how you felt. now im engaged and im happy and you want to dredge all this up---

( he's the one who brought up the postcard!!! he also could have said something in his 20's!!!! )

Charlotte: all of this has been really hard for me

rory: so what do u want me to do? not get married? have you and i try and figure out whats going on?

(that's literally what he wants. he's still hanging on for hope)

charlotte: I can't tell you what to do.

rory: you know what? this is so selfish of you. i cant believe that you chose this moment to do this.

charlotte's face rn:

girl ur being gaslight !! get out!!!

rory: i would have expected a lot more fm my best friend. i think u should leave and i think its best you dont come to the wedding.

he's literally the worst. he didn't get his declaration of love and he's like 'okay get out. ur uninvited to the wedding i made you help me plan'

anyway shes back to moping when really she should have booked a flight out of miami to get away fm him.

she gets flowers and she thinks its fm him--

WRONG! its her agent telling her to get her ass up and get to work!!

and she's really happy about it. she's like 'i love work. work is never gonna uninvite me to its wedding or gaslight me or make me plan a wedding'.

then rory and rachel have a pizza dinner night before their wedding and they realize they dont dont know anything about each other and when rachel tells him to ask her anything, he has nothing to ask her.

yeah because he doesnt care about you rachel. ur were a charlotte replacement. wake up.

also this card is fm target. i know bc i have this same stack in my drawer.

its the wedding day and rachel's missing (the escalade broke down) and rory's panicking but he makes his brother call her. this man is useless. he has everyone else doing thing for him. can someone kill him?

so charlotte sees rachel running through the park and she's like 'i'll help u get to wedding on this scooter and i promise it wont look gay'

that promise was broken.

so rory and rachel make it down the aisle and they almost do get married until rory has his flashback thinking about charlotte and then at the same time rory and rachel stop the wedding. but instead of rory being a man and being the one to say 'i cant marry you bc i love someone else' --rachel is the one to stop it and take the blame. she runs out and gets charlotte.

rory tries to apologize for being a dick but charlotte doenst let him and then takes more blame.

you think theyre gonna get married but luckily that doesnt happen.

rory: you know i think you'd make a better wife than best woman

(so he's still trying to trap her)

charlotte: for now why dont we get a slice and watch some figure skating?

rory: i like that.

yeah, those are things HE likes to do. we dont really know what SHE likes to do.

and then they kiss--

i know i said at the beginning that this was an amazing movie and if you've read this far, you're like 'this wasn't amazing'.

i said it was amazing, i didnt say it was good. it was just incredibly messy and i think rory should die.

3\5 stars for being incredibly messy.

[everythinglucymaudmontgomery]

A Few Words in Defense of Poor Robin and the Time She Was Living In

It's been really interesting to read everyone's vitriol regarding poor Robin. I remember reading this book through at least twice before and never thinking of Robin as anything other than a fellow prisoner of Jane's. Is she a good mother, by no means, but I've always felt that she's doing the best that she can under the circumstances.

I think that her life is a literal living hell. She has a husband across country that she desperately loves but most likely thinks despises her because I KNOW she despises herself. She is forced to be a social butterfly by her mother and she can't even express her emotions by crying at night in her own room because her mother will be able to tell and will find some new creative way to torture her and, by extension, Jane. Her daughter whom she loves fiercely, evidently looks just like her father and is a constant reminder of what she lost/threw away. She is playing a part in a horrific nightmarish play just to survive because she doesn't know what else to do. At that time, and under those circumstances, I don't doubt that she sees living with her mother's horribleness is her best option for providing for Jane. I can't imagine how many times she has most likely visualized running away with Jane by herself but most likely is more afraid of the two of them starving to death and NO mother ever wants to remotely consider that option.

I'm also pretty sure that the time frame for this book is sometime in the 20s/30s. According to the website for the Canadian Museum of History, Canada was among the most profoundly affected countries. So add that to Robin's fears for their livelihood.

And please let's not forget that, for all of Robin's faults, Jane does not doubt that her mother loves her. I have more to say in defense of her and Jane and their secret ways of expressing love but since I don't want to give away any spoilers to those who haven't read it yet, I will refrain.

Another thing that I have found is very interesting about how Maud wrote both "The Blue Castle" and "Jane of Lantern Hill" is that she writes more strictly from one point of view. As common as that is in many books, one thing I always liked about the Anne books was that you got all of these wonderful insights into the minds of other characters. I have seen it a precious few times so far in Lantern Hill.

The reason I point this out is that most of how we are seeing Jane's life play out is from the perspective of an 11 year old. Don't get me wrong, a very perceptive (at times) and wise beyond her years, 11 year old, but an 11 year old, none the less. They are not known to be the most broad minded of people and have a tendency to color the world with a narrowness that can alter reality to some extent. We do have to take a lot of her experiences and outlooks with a grain of salt giving others the benefit of the doubt at least.

I have often found it very difficult bordering on impossible to read books from other time frames without being influenced by the modern sensibilities and customs I am used to. For example, how could Cinderella's stepmother get away with taking her own house away from her after her father died and treating her like a slave? Oh wait. This was not the 21st century, orphans were not looked at the same. In fact, most people looked at orphans as if it was THEIR own fault that they were orphans, like losing your parents makes you a bad person and not worth time or pity.

Am I excusing Robin's behavior? As a mother, NO. Do I think the grandmother should be excused. HEAVENS NO! But I do try to put myself in their shoes as much as I can and remember that this was a different time and place. Not to mention, as a sufferer of mental health issues and knowing that that was something that was not touched with a ten foot pole back then and good lord knows what genetic predisposition they had in that regards on top of living through WW1 and the Great Depression AND the Spanish Flu Pandemic!!!!

Anyway, I hope this makes some semblance of sense to my dear fellow lovers of L.M.M. It's been so interesting and enlightening getting to hear the different thoughts and outlooks from fresh readers of this little known but wonderful book.

[lucaordeusorlem]

Over Decoration Mayhem

This is a stupid little fic I wrote, sleep deprived and haven't written in years. It's for a contest, that got extended so I was like "meh fuck it lessgo" and decided to write this. I will nbow be sleep.

“Surprise??”, Teorus said sheepishly, staring at MC. 

“S-? surprise? this.. is a surprise?” Mc, asked rather concerned as they looked at the state of the gods parlor. Across the room, the gods stood rather sheepishly (with the notable lack of Aigo). The mansion was in tatters, decorations strewn about, food everywhere, in their hair, on their clothes, the room was covered roof to floorboards in all things Christmas. 

“What on earth happened!?” MC asked 

“W-Well…” 

*hours earlier* 

“Since we’re busy on Christmas, I think we should try to celebrate Christmas early! With MC” Ichthys offered the idea to the group. 

“Why would a god celebrate such a silly goldfish tradition that brings us nothing but more work?” Leon snarked. 

“Well, because we want to see how goldies celebrate Christmas. We only see it from the reflection pool, I want to experience it, Leo!” Teo chimed in cheerfully. “I agree with Ikky!”

“It's easier said than done, Teo. Humans from all over the world celebrate Christmas in different ways.” huedhaut said matter of factly. “For example, in Japan, Christmas is a holiday for couples and they eat KFC chicken, but in Canada it's a holiday for families where they eat turkey. In North America they open presents on Christmas morning, after this ‘Santa’ character puts them under a tree-” 

“Leave it to stupid humans to celebrate breaking and entering.” Scorpio grumbled walking into the parlor. 

“Hey! Hey! Scorpy, don't you think we should celebrate Christmas with MC?” Ichthys sung. 

“I think we should trash the entire holiday. It brings out nothing but the worst in humans and triples my work load.” 

“I never thought there would be a day that I'd agree with Scorpio. Interesting.” Leon chuckled. 

“As I was saying, how Christmas is different everywhere, places like Canada and the United Kingdom and the United States celebrate on Christmas day, but places like Mexico, celebrate from the 16th until Christmas Eve, called Las Posadas. Many countries all have their own traditions-” 

“SO WHAT YOU’RE SAYING IS WE SHOULD CELEBRATE ALL CULTURES CHRISTMAS?!” Ichthys exclaimed turning to Teo 

“No that's not at all wha-” 

“AN AMAZING IDEA, HUEDHAUT! YOU’RE SO SMART” Teo beamed. 

“Okay, since this is the plan, we need to figure out what cultures we are going to do.” Teo got a serious look on his face. 

“Well, let's start with the more common one! Santa! We need a Santa” 

“Wait wait! We need a chimney first for Santa to get through.” 

“Smart, Teo, smart.” Ichthys snapped his fingers, transforming the cabinet into a working fireplace “Okay now for Santa…”

“Hello, what is everyone doing here?” Dui walked into the parlor- oh how unlucky of him. Ichthys and Teorus shared a look, the plan had been sealed. 

“Dui! My man! My friend! My partner in crime!” Ichthys exclaimed walking towards him 

“O-oh no… Ikky what did you do now?” Dui looked apprehensive 

Ichthys threw his arm over his shoulder 

“Relax, relax, I haven't done anything! All of us are setting up a Christmas party for MC!” 

“Not all of us, just you two idiots.” Scorpio remarked 

“Oh, that seems fun” Dui smiled 

“You know, I'm so glad you said that. DUI! We are going to task you with the most important job. Can you handle it?” Ichthys put on an authoritative voice, mocking Zyglavis. 

“Oh no… I feel like I've been pulled into something problematic…” 

“Good observation.” Hue sighed 

“You, Dui, will be the one, the only, SANTA CLAUS!” Ichthys exclaimed with jazz hands. 

“Oh, you want me to dress up as Santa for MC? What does Santa do?” Dui took a breath of relief, he could handle such a task. 

“In most cultures, Santa is a big man who travels the world in one night, delivering presents to all the good girls and boys.” Hue elaborated for Dui. 

“Oh? Kind of like the wishes department. I wonder what happens to the boys and girls who misbehave? Do you think they have something similar to the department of Punishments?” 

“Well, in a lot of cultures, they have an anti Claus, most commonly known as Krampus, which is believed to be linked to the Bavarian word for ‘Dead’ or 'Rotten’, or that of the German word ‘Claw’. Depending on the culture, Krampus is a creature who scares the children into behaving, but in others, Krampus physically punishes the children to remind them to behave.” Huedhaut masterfully explained (Not me actually enjoying researching stuff for my little fanfic) 

“That kinda reminds me of Scorpy” Ikky laughed 

“Keep it up and I’ll feed you to Krampus myself.” Scorpio snarled 

“So it’s decided then! Dui will be Santa, and Scorpio will be Krampus!” 

“OI! Problem child! Don’t go assuming I’ll be taking part in this period, let alone dressing up as some anti claus demon monster!” Scorpio protested, the familiar blush covering his face in anger. 

“Okay, moving on-” 

“-Don’t ignore me!” 

“Now we need the christmas tree! Let’s get the biggest tree ever!” 

“Don’t waste your breath, Scorpio, they’re lost in their own world now.” Huedhaut assured. 

“I know they use Pine trees! Here we go!” Ichthys snapped his fingers, a pine tree appearing in the living room. 

“Wait! I really like cherries, I think we should have a cherry tree too!” Dui snapped his fingers, appearing beside the pine tree was a cherry tree, with fully ripe fruit. 

“Wow! Good idea, let's add our own twist to it as well! I like milk! Let’s have a milk tree!” Teo got excited and snapped his fingers, creating the abomination known as a milk tree. 

“Christmas trees need decorations! Okay let’s see” One snap after the other, Ichthys was decorating his tree, following suit, Dui and Teo began to decorate their personal trees. 

“I’m putting a pie ornament because cherry pie is yummy.”

“I’m putting a carton of milk ornament on because I love milk! I also put a mini ornament modeled after MC because I love them” Teo said cheerfully 

“I put a bunch of toys all over mine, and christmas crackers, some with hidden tricks” Ichthys said, better steer clear of the tree. 

“It’s starting to look kind of like Christmas here! Just need lights *snap* maybe some of the popcorn and cranberry things” 

“Ooh! Ooh! Popcorn and cherry instead” Dui snapped his fingers 

“Alright, now we just need a turkey dinner!” With a final snap of his fingers, Teo had set up a table with a wholesome family turkey dinner, as well as a table of refreshments. 

“Okay, we’ve got the North American Christmas taken care of. Let’s do Japan’s!” Ichthys snapped his fingers, putting a massive bucket of fried chicken as the table’s centerpiece. 

“Hue, what are some more Christmas cultures we can add?” Teo asked 

“Well, in Sweden, they believe Santa rode a goat to deliver the presents, so it is a tradition to build a giant goat made out of straw.” 

“We could steal one of Aigo’s goats instead, don’t you think that would be even more lucky?” Ichthys asked 

“For the last time, they are heralds…” Said a sleepy voice, almost on cue, the remaining 6 gods, Zyglavis, Karno, Aigonorous, Partheno, Krioff and Tauxolouve entered the gods parlor. 

“Aigo! Can we have one of your goa-” 

“Can you bring one of your heralds to the party, Aigo?” Dui interrupted Ichthys,  

“Party..? Do I have to?” 

“No- we just need your goat!” 

“Herald….” Aigo grumbled, half asleep, snapping his fingers, summoning his herald, before collapsing on the couch, resuming his slumber.  

“Party huh? Seems we came to earth at the perfect time! How rare for all 12 of us to get together at the same time, I say it is a call for a celebration, don’t you agree Krioff?” Partheno smirked and looked around 

“You know, a good celebration of the gods is never complete unless Huedhaut brings his wine, whaddya say, Huedhaut??” Partheno asked leisurely sliding over to the couch. 

“I guess it is a rather rare occasion, I would be willing to part with some of my brews.” 

“Wait! Don’t go taking over our party, this is a party for MC since we can’t spend actual Christmas with them!” Teo whined, pouting. 

“That would explain all these decorations, although I’m not sure it would explain the cherry tree- or whatever that thing is…” Zyglavis chimed in 

“It’s a milk tree! Get this Zyglavis! Dui is going to dress up as Santa, and Scorpio is going to dress up as Krampus” Ichthys said in a snickered voice. 

“You are dressing up?” Zyglavis questioned 

“NO! I AM NOT DRESSING UP AS KRAMPUS!” Scorpio yelled in frustration, “My bad I didn't mean to yell at you.” 

“So this is all the problem child’s doing?”

“Lighten up Zyglavis, It’s the holiday season on earth and everyone just wants to have a good time, I think even you should sit back and relax, you always work so hard, you deserve a chance to relax” Karno stepped in encouraging Zyglavis to join in on the idea. 

“Well, it’s not a bad idea, I can add some chocolate I got from France to the table” Zyglavis snapped his fingers, chocolate now added to the table.

“Maybe some ice cream….too?” Krioff finally spoke up and added ice cream to the table 

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be opposed to some of t-those…” Scorpio snapped his finger bringing rabbit apples to the table.

 One by one the gods snapped their fingers, filling the table with meatballs, milk, marshmallows, chocolates, wine, fruit, and so much more to their hearts desire until half the room was just a buffet of very NON christmas foods. They did however,  choose to include Friend Sundried Emperor Moth Caterpillars, a dish eaten in South Africa during christmas time. As well as two italian desserts eaten at christmas, a raisin and candied fruit filled Panettone and a Pandora topped with icing sugar. A courtesy of Karno, who happens to have an  interest in human culture. 

“We need more, any other ideas guys? Before we call MC to the mansion?” Ichthys hummed 

“Las Posadas, fireworks-”

“No fireworks inside the parlor.” Zyglavis immediately shut down Dui 

“What about pinatas? For Las Posadas! We can fill them with MC’s favourite treats.” Tauxolouve chimed in. 

“That’s actually a great idea, I can’t wait to see their excitement.” Dui smiled and snapped his fingers, creating a pinata in the shape of a snow globe. 

“In the Philippines they have a lantern festival, with lanterns made of bamboo in the shape of stars, MC loves stars. We could add that as well.” Leon chimed in, for the first time with something of interest to say. 

“Yes! Good idea Leo!” Teo snapped his fingers, creating an array of lanterns in all shapes and sizes across the already very full parlor. 

“Yeah, good idea Leon.” Scorpio snarked, Leon responded only with a glare. 

“Alright! I think that’s it! Dui! Scorpio! Transform!” Ichthys clapped his hands together, getting pumped. 

“I refuse.” Scorpio said flat out.  Dui had snapped his finger changing his outfit into the Santa outfit. 

“Oh C’mon Scorpy it's for MC you don't want to make them upset do you?”  Partheno chimed in with devilish grin 

“Tch… Fine Scorpio was flustered, he snapped his fingers, effectively taking on the role of Krampus. 

“YAY! NOW IT’S TIME TO CALL MC!” Teo and Ichthys said in unison. 

“Alright I sent a telepathic message to them telling them to come! They should be here soon” Dui said 

The gods were very proud of their handy work, hoping that at least one or more of the Christmas themes would be to their liking, although it was very above and beyond, in a very god-like fashion.  The god’s chatted amongst themselves as they waited, already having sipped on some of Hue’s wine. Everything was perfect…. Until, 

“Something is missing guys…” Dui tilted his head to the side looking at the tree, and Ichthys came to join him. 

“Something is missing! I can’t quite put my finger on it but you’re right. Oh no! MC is gonna be here soon and something is missing.”  

“In most cultures, the Christmas trees are adorned with a Christmas tree topper, some go with a star, others go with an angel.It’s the last piece added to a tree, and is usually placed by a chosen one.  I believe you are missing the tree topper on your christmas tree, ichthys.” 

“YOU’RE RIGHT! QUICK GUYS! WE NEED TO PUT THE TREE TOPPER ON THE TREE!” 

“Hey since it’s a tradition, can I put it on the tree without powers?” Teo asked. 

“Yeah that sounds like a lot of fun.” Dui snapped his fingers creating a star and he placed it on his tree, at the top. “The finishing touches.” 

Teorus went to his tree and placed his star on top as well, although he struggled to make it stay on the leaking milk tree, he eventually got it. Ichthys was on his way, he snapped his fingers and created a star big enough to top his tree, and flew to the top of the tree. 

“There we gooo…” Ichthys gingerly placed the tree topper at the top of the massive pine tree, although it struggled to stay up, after a few jostles he finally got it shoved deep enough in the pine to stay. “Everything is finally perfect!” Oh boy……if only he knew. 

Ichthys jumped down from the top of the tree, happy with his surprise part for MC, when his jacket got caught in the tree (can you see where this is going?) Misfortune struck, the giant pine tree came tumbling down, narrowly missing the buffet tables and other trees and decorations…It was a god's level of luck… It was almost too lucky.  Remember those Ichthys special cracklers? What a sight, what a fright, what an unfortunate time to have a prank blow up in your face….. Literally. Upon impact, the cracklers exploded sending streamers, confetti and fireworks across the parlor. They exploded with such force, it knocked over Dui’s cherry tree, right into the food! Everything was ruined. Except for the decorations, until Aigonorous’ herald got scared from the noise and started running around, tipping decorations, knocking over the tables. Everything was in shambled

“Ichthys…” Scorpio said in a low demonic voice “You’re going to meet Krampus” 

“I’m sorry! THIS TOTALLY WASN’T MY PLAN!” Ichthys yelled, running from Scorpio. Scorpio angrily stalked towards Ichthys, slipping on potatoes and chocolate about, ready to lay it in to him, when he stepped on a crackler. The goods looked down as Scorpio slowly lifted his foot off. 

“Phew nothing happe-” BAM the crackler exploded, all the food wreckage covered them from head to toe, nothing could be salvaged. At the very same time a knock came at the door, they all turned to look at MC, and the shock on their faces\.

“Surprise??” 

The end

I wrote this from 6am to 9am basically idk why i saw the prompt thought it was cute and ran with it. If the ending is weird it's because I haven’t slept. This was purely self indulgent and probably stupid but hey my fanfic so I’m proud lol. I did some research to have fun with it and make it accurate. I am a geek and ended up enjoying the research part lol. Not proofreading. If it sucks, it sucks lol.

[coralcatsea]

How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

I feel Hetalia needs some kind of really nice, wholesome ending with the nations all doing something fun and silly with each other. They have many differences, but they can relate to and understand each other in ways no human can, which allows them to come together and feel a sense of belonging. They can't fix the world; it'll never be perfect, but there is hope for the future.

They could play games, sing songs, and reminisce on some Hetalia scenes from the past, like:

America: Remember when we sat around a campfire on that island? England kept chanting like he was trying to summon the devil!

England: That reminds me of when you prank called me and pretended to BE the devil!

Belarus: Sometimes I like to prank call Poland and just breathe into the phone.

Poland: That was you?!

China: On the topic of pranks, how about that crazy April Fools' Day where we all got blackmailed?

France: Hey, remember when I tried to trick you by pretending a marriage registration form was a calendar?

England: I don't know how you ever thought I would believe that!

Spain: Oh, when I tried proposing to Romano he gave me all these conditions!

Romano: There weren't that many!

England: Oh, I recall when America got upset because I didn't give him chocolates for Valentine's Day.

Italy: Haha! You proposed to him? Germany gave me a ring once on Valentine's Day! It turned out to be this whole big misunderstanding!

America: You're always giving me ice cream and chocolate bars and things! I just figured you would give me some then, too!

England: Well, I brought them later and you tried to play it off like it never happened!

America: Haha, did I do that?

Prussia: Oh, speaking of England giving out food, remember when I posted on my blog about how he made me food and everyone thought I died?? Not cool, guys! As if I would be defeated by that!

Germany: We were just concerned.

Prussia: Some of you got REALLY concerned! That was interesting!

Austria: Well, there's no need to be foolish!

Hungary: Yes, you may be a handful, but you have your good points! For one, there was that time you gave me a piece of fabric from your clothes to help me cover up...

Italy: He helped clean my house!

Romano: That idiot cheered me up once when I couldn't get a role in a movie.

America: I like to make movies! You can get a role in mine if you want! Maybe we can make it about...the Pictonian invasion!!

Prussia: Oh! What about a movie inspired by that fantasy game we all played together?

Estonia: Maybe it could be based on this dream I had where you all became women! It was really weird!

Japan: What–?

Russia: I think it would be nice to make a movie about some of the pleasant memories we've been discussing.

Spain: We should include the time I had turtles crawling all over the place!

Canada: Sometimes Cuba and I have ice cream together. That's a nice memory.

Japan: Learning English with England-san and German with Prussia-san.

England: There was that one time Germany and I stopped fighting on Christmas to play football...

Japan: Rooming with America.

Lithuania: Oh, yes, I liked staying with him, too.

Romano: I guess it was all right.

Belarus: ...I didn't like it much. But some parts were okay.

Russia: Don't worry, we can definitely skip all that!

America: How about that time Russia sent cardboard cutouts to everyone? That was hilarious!

Japan: Hmm...when we learned about America's Furbies?

Italy: When I wrote a song for Germany! That's a good memory!

Germany: ...When I first found you hiding in that tomato box.

It ends with them singing a new song, and then finally, Marukaite Chikyuu. Italy then says, "The series may be over, but history never ends!"

[fizzycherrycola]

Alfred & Matt, Stargazing

It’s a clear summer night, perfect for spotting stars. Two brothers bond, sharing science and admiring the universe. I wrote this ages ago for @hwsnabroszine​ and now I can finally share it. Please enjoy!

A Girl Called Hubble

“What’s going to happen to her?” Matthew inquires.

Alfred glances up from his personal telescope, a flashlight highlighting his golden features in the midnight dark. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“The Hubble telescope. Is she...?”

“Oh.” There’s a touch of sadness in Alfred’s tone, which trickles into the soft symphony of crickets, cicadas, and other rural evening sounds. Looking away, he resumes fiddling with the dials on his viewfinder. “I mean, she’s not being decommissioned yet. I think NASA has some plans for joint missions with Webb, so that’ll add a few more years to her life. Eventually though, maybe in a decade, they’ll make an announcement. Most likely... she’ll be set on a course to collide with the atmosphere and burn up.”

Matthew blinks. That seems... harsh, even if Hubble is just a machine.  

He rolls the chunky flashlight around in his hands, an industrial strength thing that Alfred keeps in his pickup truck for emergencies and stargazing nights like this. Its synthetic light cuts through the natural darkness, tracing the outline of fluttering moths and the wild grasses stomped flat by Alfred’s tires. Matthew tilts it to better illuminate his brother’s work and nibbles his bottom lip.

“How come?” Matthew eventually asks.

Alfred hums. “Well, she’s past her expiry date. You've got to remember, some of Hubble’s machinery was built back in the 80’s. If something important fails, like her guidance system, she could become another hunk of space debris, zooming uncontrollably around the Earth. And that’s a huge risk for space flights, satellites, and the ISS. It’s sad, but I mean... it has to happen.”  

He goes quiet for a moment, but not for long. Never for long. In an instant, he turns to Matthew with a big grin on his face, his eyes shining brilliantly behind his glasses. “Hey, want to hear something cool?”

Matthew sighs, but can’t help smiling. “Sure.”

“Did you know that even a tiny screw bolt travelling at 4 miles a second is strong enough to punch through a tank? There’s no atmosphere in outer space to slow it down, so it can just keep going faster and faster. Pretty wild, huh?”

“Yeah. You mention that, like, every single time we talk about space.”

“Wait, really? Damn. I guess I should start throwing some different facts your way! Have I told you about black holes and event horizons?”

“Yup.”

“How about neutron stars? Oh! Or quasars?”

“Uh-huh.”

“...the Goldilocks Zone? You know, there are actually a bunch of habitable planets in the TRAPPIST-1 system. And it’s only 40 lightyears away from Earth!”

“You bring that up literally every time you have a new theory about aliens.”

Alfred tuts. “Well... shit.”

Matthew's smile turns sheepish. “Sorry.”

“S’all good.” Alfred taps open his phone, double-checking his night sky tracking app, mouth twisted into the same, familiar pout from his childhood.

The warm summer breeze overtakes their talk, rustling Canada’s hair and t-shirt. From his seat in the truck bed, surrounded by threadbare blankets and pillows, he swings his feet. Humid air drags up the faint scent of dried corn husks, hay, and whatever else was once grown in this long-abandoned farm field. The sky is gorgeous tonight; barely a cloud to be seen, it glitters with starlight and far-flung galaxies. Alfred picked a good night for skywatching.

Originally, they came out here for a special reason, bringing along Alfred’s private, civilian-use telescope. It is massive, about the size of England’s old armchair, but mobile with its tripod, and probably the most expensive on the amateur astronomy market. They parked Alfred’s truck in the middle of the field, set up his device, and saw it: just a speck in the giant magnifying lens, insignificant against the stars, but it was there. The new James Webb space telescope. A cosmic daffodil with goldenrod mirrors spread wide. A novel machine that will help humanity see and understand the universe.

They stared at it for minutes, then an hour, as Alfred geeked out, listing its many capabilities and functions. But then, after he finally ran out of things to say, after they glimpsed Jupiter and Mars, Sagittarius and Ursa Major, Alfred suggested they stick around a while more to view Hubble when she, too, crosses the night sky.

Despite the heat, Matthew drags a cotton blanket over his shoulders. “That James Webb telescope is going to show us some amazing things.”

“It sure is,” Alfred mutters.

“...Although, I’m a little sad that Hubble is running out of time. She took some amazing photos, too. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

Alfred pauses before giving Matthew a look. “...C’mon dude, you don’t have to make me feel better.” Matthew shrugs. Alfred turns to the sky, the expanse, voice going quiet. “She’s just a piece of equipment. I don’t get all upset over every Ford F-150 that ends up in the scrap yard.”

Matthew picks at a loose thread on his blanket, unconvinced. Having known his brother for centuries, it’s easy to tell when Alfred is being disingenuous. He was morose when the Opportunity rover went dark. Distant, after learning that in 2025, no one will be able to contact Voyager 1. And when he eventually realised that Curiosity sings Happy Birthday to itself, every year, all alone on Mars... well.  

“I think Hubble is a lot more special than a pickup truck.”  

“Meh.”

“Stinky gas-guzzlers.”

Alfred’s lips twitch and Matthew knows he’s on the right track. “Hey, don’t shit-talk my trucks.”

“And more expensive, too. By, like, a few BILLION dollars.”

Alfred’s expression cracks and he chuckles. “Sure, okay. You’ve got me there.”  

A weight lifts in Matthew’s chest and his restless legs swing higher, sneaker laces tapping his heels to the tune of his heart.

Then, Alfred checks his phone once more. He suddenly lights up. Ducking down to look through the scope’s eyepiece, he shouts with joy. “Hey! She’s here! Come on, come over here and see.”  

Matthew’s eyes go wide. He shimmies, sliding off the truck bed and tossing his blanket aside. Hopping over to Alfred, who steps aside, he peeks through the scope, glasses clinking against the viewfinder. And there she is, in all her tin-can glory.  

Surrounded by the dark sea of space, Hubble looks so very small, even with the aid of Alfred’s chunky telescope. Her solar panels are extended like squarish wings, helping her soar high above the world. One of the many machines floating through outer space that fuels imaginations and wins affection, satisfying the universal thirst for knowledge with each photo and landmark discovery.

Grass crunches as Alfred shuffles his feet. He doesn’t launch into a lesson on astrophotography or detail the known nebulae. He says nothing, silence stretching far beyond the atmosphere. Then, murmuring: “She might have been expensive, but she was worth it. She was worth every single penny.”

Matthew rights himself and peers at Alfred’s silhouette. The faint glow of the Milky Way, a great band of lustrous cloud, stretches behind him. Matthew doesn’t raise the flashlight to catch his brother’s expression. He doesn’t need to.

“I’m sorry, Al.”

A dark arm comes up to knead the back of Alfred’s neck. Quietly, he sighs.  

“...Thanks. I’ll be okay. She’s still around for a while longer.”  

The night rolls on, the stars turn overhead, and soon, Hubble is out of sight. Sailing across the sky, lenses facing the distant heavens, dutifully, she will record all she can. Until her instruments expire and her circuits give out, she will inspire Alfred, Matthew, and the entire human world.

End / Fin

~~~

Author’s Notes

I had to fudge a few things, scientifically, in order to make this fic work. Because of its orbiting pattern, Hubble is best seen between the 28th parallel north and the 28th parallel south. So, if you live near the equator, you can easily see Hubble with a telescope. Being further north or south of those latitudes makes spotting it trickier. Despite this, I decided to put Alfred and Matt in a corn field, rather than on a beach at the southern tip of Florida. I preferred the vibe, since corn fields are often connected to outer space in American stories (see: 2014’s Interstellar and multiple films featuring aliens.)

The JWST is also hard to spot. For starters, it’s very, very far away. If you’re able to spot it, it’ll just look like a dot, even with the aid of a telescope. Depending on which way the mirrors are facing, it's visible when it catches the Sun’s rays, or it’s completely black when tilted away. And unlike Hubble, it doesn’t orbit Earth. It orbits the Sun. So, the math involved in spotting it is... way harder than what I can manage on my own. Let’s just pretend that Alfred is a god-king at astronomy and knows exactly when and where to point his telescope to view the JWST.

Being an amateur astronomy nerd, I loved writing this fic. However, I tried not to weigh things down with too much technical jargon. If you're interested in learning more about space (and some of the things mentioned in this story, like neutron stars and black holes), please check out ‘SciShow Space’ on Youtube, or visit NASA’s official website. ❤

[wrathofthestag]

Fic Author Self-Rec Meme

@doggernaut tagged me on this, thanks for the tag. Okay, first off, go and read all of her stuff. You can start with these, but really, read all of them. Okay, was there a minimum? Maximum? Hmm... I'm going to follow her lead and pick five. I mean, do I pick my five favorite? Five most popular? Um... Okay, I'll do three OMGCP that I really like, and will throw in a couple from other fandoms.

OMGCP - I have over 200 Check, Please! fics, so it was hard to pick just three.

Blessing in Disguise - Zimbits I'm starting with this one, because it's my latest Zimbits fic and I was really happy with how it turned out, but pretty bummed by the number of hits. It was part of a OMGCP AU event, and the prompt was "AU where Jack didn't go to Samwell, but has a younger sister who does. She befriends Bitty and SMH, and Jack ends up hanging out with them when he visits her." I changed it in that Jack went to Samwell but graduated the semester before Bitty or his sister began. There's a lot of longing and missed connections, but don't worry, they finally get it together.

Weekender - Zimbits I think this is my longest fic? Um, I think so. I wrote most of this fic while I was in another country traveling for work. It was also the fastest fic that came to me. It was over 30K words and I wrote it in less than a month by the seat of my pants. Jack and Bitty meet at Falcs Fest. This fic was inspired by the time I went to Fan Expo Canada. It got me thinking, what would happen if you connected with a famous someone you met at a fan expo? Here's what happens.

Bits of Heaven - Zimbits Okay, I couldn't make up my mind between Bits of Heaven or All the Best Parts, but I went with the former. Here we meet a 40-something Jack and Bitty who get a second chance at love. Friends to lovers, with septuagenarian Bad Bob (and teenaged Frogs) acting as cupid. I love second chance at love stories, and oh! It features beautiful artwork by @ibakesouffles

Other Fandoms:

Glenn Miller and Blood: Or How to Court Someone in the 21st Century - Sam/Bucky This took off in a way I didn't expect. I wrote it after watching The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Did I ever ship them? Nope. Did I after watching the show? Heck yeah. I imagined how awkward dating would be for Buck. Then I imagined HOW AWKWARD it would be for him to realize he was in love with Sam---and I just went for it. It's fluff, just like a lot of fluff, okay? But it was fun!

Gauge Your Interest - Hannigram I wrote this one in 2016, so I don't really remember my thought process behind this one other than wouldn't be it funny if Hannibal thought Will was cheating on him, but instead Will was doing something completely innocent (and sweet)? Hannigram crack, for realsies.

Tagging five people: @devereauxsdisease @parvuls @fragile-teacup @zacharybosch and @hullomoon <3

[insomnya777]

Like to requests write or to read?

If you haven’t checked it out already, I’m currently obsessed with this Reincarnated into my wife’s dating sim one, although it’s still ongoing, so it hasn’t quite hit the romance just yet. But I request you read it.

To write… man do I have plenty of bad ideas. Like I’m surprised nobody has gotten in on the whole scootball thing, it’s perfect for rivals to lovers/ rivals who are lovers.

Or for a more silly one, Joel’s running a daycare with all of his kids (Hermes, Mandy, Jeremyism, etc.) being the ones he’s looking after + maybe a hermit or two. Suddenly, this new white haired guy from Canada is dropping off his little sister Gem every day. And randomly bumping into him from time to time. Somehow things are different. He’s starting to actually enjoy his job. He finds himself looking at simple things through new eyes. And he’s totally not falling for the Canadian at all. Not at all.

I have like at least 10 different ideas bouncing through my head, but not enough writing skills.

oh my god thank you so much. i was actually talking about to read (i love reincarnated into my wife's dating sim omg) but u have got some great ideas and i have to admit i have been lacking a little in the inspiration department 😭

first of all i'm sorry to say but i have no idea what scootball is. so. there's that. but i sooo love the idea of rivals to lovers so maybe an olympics au or something like that?? imagining hockey (mostly cuz i'm canadian and that's the only sport i know like anything about lol)

DAYCARE AU!!!!! i love the way u wrote that, hes totallyyyyy not fallling for etho at alllll. sure joel!! ive been rotating an idea similar to that around in my head for a couple of days, an au where joel n etho are both single dads and drop their kids off at the same daycare every day and, inevitably, their kids become best friends so they're stuck having to host play-dates for each other lollll. maybe they've got a little unspoken competition going on, who can make it the best and the most fun. do u see the vision ahahah???

totally get the having a million ideas but not the writing skills or the time that's so me 🙏🙏 ive just been yolo-ing all day every day

[ghostly-hitch-hiker]

Speedrunning Puberty and All Its Cons. Chapter 2: Exit, Pursued by a Bear

a< start << previous / next >>  | AO3 Update

Surprise! Update time! The chapter title doesn’t make much sense with the content because I got attached to the title and then wrote something different than I’d intended originally. Enjoy if you can! Warning for mention of intercostal muscles because I think about them too much apparently. Oh, and blood. There is also blood.

He didn’t notice the city at first so much as the ocean it coasted. He’d seen the Great Lakes before. Hell, he’d even flown over Duluth during a family trip to star gaze, but he’d ended up spending half of his time staring at Lake Superior from the air. He’d never seen so much water stretch so far before, and even floating high above the water of Lake Superior, the far shore and Canada still looked so small and far away.

Danny had never been to the east coast before, and he found himself staring out across the Atlantic Ocean and wondering how it could possibly ever end. It was almost the same exact feeling he got when staring up into the sky at night. The universe was so impossibly big, and somehow the ocean made him feel so much smaller. It was too much water. Too much mass with which to drown. 

Something dripped down his arm, bringing him back to his body—his too big and old and awkward body. Danny was used to the absence of substance that came with being a ghost, but he was heavier than he should have been then. He couldn’t tell if it was him sinking towards the city or if the rooftops of Gotham were rising to meet him. Eat him. He wasn’t sure when his eyes closed.

“When I heard your oaf of a father boast about a ‘last minute exchange program,’ I knew you’d done something, Daniel,” Vlad drawled. “I will admit, this is not what I expected.”

“Vlad, I’m really not in the mood.”

“Did your parents really not recognize their darling Dannyboy?”

“Does Voltasia actually exist?”

“Hmmm. What did they say when they saw you? No ‘blasted ghost’ talk? I was quite surprised by the lack of blast marks around the living room when I popped by earlier.”

“They’ve had an unusually good week. We got to flip the ‘Days since accident’ sign in the lab to five for the first time in eight months.”

“I take it Madeleine finally toddler proof the lab for Jack then?”

“If anyone did that, it would be Jazz.” A pause. “Dad thought I was some long lost Fenton cousin. When I tried to tell him and Mom that it was me, they just laughed. ‘Great name, Danny!” Danny grunted in a bad approximation of his father’s voice. “‘That’s my son’s name!’”

“And Madeleine?”

“Always good to meet another Fenton! Especially a Danny! Did you go to the University of Minnesota as well?” he pitched his voice higher, leaning into the midwestern accent.

“I see.”

Next thing Danny knew was the gravel under his back. He opened his eyes to a smoggy sky with the faintest glimmer of starlight through wispy gaps in the cloud layer. Maybe he could catch Orion if the wind shifted. He grunted and sat up slowly, aware of the blood dripping from his arm before the wound on his shoulder. Right. That. 

The water tower to his left was dented, and he saw a blood spatter in the dent and another one in the gravel six feet away. He’s bounced. It didn’t take a detective to put together that something heavy and bloody had hit the water tower, and Danny was unfortunately in a city full of detectives. He groaned when he tried to stand. The blood on the water tower wasn’t green, so he had transformed somewhere in the air then. No wonder everything hurt. Just the water tower. No other reason whatsoever. 

Danny prodded his right shoulder to check whether any of the rooftop gravel had made its way into the flayed layers of skin, and picked out the biggest pieces he could find. There were cons to growing up too fast, he had been discovering. The shoulder wound was the result of a ghost related one. Turns out that since Danny’s ghost form had ‘physically’ aged as well as his human, he could be engaged as an actual adult in the Ghost Zone. Apparently his status as a teen protector meant that some of his rogues had actually been taking it relatively easy on him. When Danny had run into Skulker on his way out of Amity Park, Skulker had gone all out. Exhibit A was a particularly pulpy shoulder laceration from a weapon Danny didn’t recognize. Exhibit B was a much neater slice between the ribs that had definitely severed some intercostal muscle. Sure, Exhibit B was probably the more serious wound, but he’d already had one foot in the grave before the fight. What was one more?

Wiping his bloody fingers on his sweats, Danny took stock of his surroundings. The roof he’d landed on was home to a now structurally unsound water tower, some bloody gravel, and a graffitied old door that clearly led into the building below. Beyond the lip of the building, the rest of the city stretched out before him in scummy grays and gargoyle gutters. Gotham looked positively dystopian, and Danny found himself reeling at the prospect of navigating a city so much larger than Amity Park by himself. A silhouette of a person flipped from a gargoyle to a fire escape, and Danny’s body moved almost before his mind had processed the implications.  

He was on a rooftop in Gotham, and he’d be damned if was found by one of the Bats on his first night there. A click and a sharp zing of cable unreeling. Metal bit into the brick at the edge of the roof. A Bat. He didn’t stick around to find out which one.

---

@mayoota-blog (I think) and @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair , y’all asked to be tagged in the next part, so here it is! The next next part is coming tomorrow!

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Script of something that happened this morning.

"Oh no, I've decided I want to sit down, once I get on the train, and mark up my itinerary, which I printed before coming here because I do not trust technology. Yet, the only two pens I brought to England, I left at Douglas Adams' grave. How do I solve this before the train arrives?"

[looks around the station and sees:]

[remembers that episode of The Thick of It when Chris Addison is trying to convince the party to keep Hugh Abbott in his spot:] "Hugh, he's like W H Smith, isn't he? You don't think about him when he's here, but if he were gone one day, you'd be like - where am I going to get my pens?"

I went in and purchased some pens. Problem solved.

That has been a fun thing about London, the brand names off TV. When I first got in, I saw a plaza with about 6 stores in a row, none of which I'd seen in person before, but I realized I could hear all their names in Lee Mack's voice, because they're all staple references on panel show jokes. TK Max, B and Q, Asda. I know what those are. I've seen Would I Lie to You. I've heard lies set in all those places.

Anyway, I'm currently eating a sausage roll on a train like a character in a panel show joke. I had a sausage roll yesterday to see what was this food they always reference on TV. Had one today because I was hungry and they sold them at the train station. It's a good thing I don't live here because I probably shouldn't eat more of then.

I'm on a train to Cambridge, it left from King's Cross. And like I've said, when I get excited about Harry Potter buildings, it isn't really about Harry Potter. It's not even a case of seeing something British and thinking that's like Harry Potter (unlike, say, British stores that make me immediately say "it's like a panel show"). There are Harry Potter buildings in Canada - just not nearly as many of them, because the country in its current (colonized) form isn't nearly as old. London is full of them, and that's the novelty.

I could really just say "old buildings", that's what I mean. But not just that. As someone pointed out to me, the Empire State Building is old, and that's not a Harry Potter building. I mean old buildings that look like they could be in a fantasy novel.

So that's what I get excited about, not stuff directly related to Harry Potter. Mostly. But I have to say, it was cool to go to King's Cross and see Platforms 9 and 10, and the space between where you'd go for 9 3/4.

I got on the train at platform 9, got a picture of platforms 9 and 10 from the train, that was a cool thing that's actually Harry Potter related.

There was a pretend cart going into the wall that could not have been less interesting to me, it wasn't even in the right place. But I liked the actual station.

So I'm going to Cambridge to look for Harry Potter buildings. Although these might be better described as Douglas Adams buildings, as I really want to see where the first Dirk Gently book was set.

I'll see how it goes. I saw a few old fantasy building-based London tourist spots yesterday (calling them "old fantasy buildings" because calling Westminster Cathedral and St. Paul's Cathedral "Harry Potter buildings" seems a little too offensive, even for me), and as impressive as they were, I couldn't really get into them because there were so many people around. I enjoyed the quieter parts much more. After I finished with the giant impressive churches that were beautiful but left me cold, I sat for two hours in an old pub where I was the only person in a dimly lit basement with my non-alcoholic bitter beer, and I think I found God in there.

I'm... I'm joking about finding God in a pub when I couldn't in a church, but you should see the post I wrote while sitting there, as I contemplated the way it's easier to find magic in little quiet things than in big important things. No, actually, you shouldn't see that post. You're all lucky I decided the world does not need to hear me attach too much sentimentality to unimportant buildings once again, so I decided not to actually hit "post" on that one. In the less sentimental light of day, I will just say, look how cool this pub is:

And an update on my comedy tourism, I went to the Soho Theatre last night:

Oh, how's this for comedy tourism? I took this picture and immediately sent it to my dad, because his frequent playing of Radio 4 in the car when I was growing up did a significant amount to shape my entire personality. There used to be a lot of Sorry I Haven't a Clue on road trips.

Here, have some British countryside between London and Cambridge, taken from a train window: