#Tom's Midnight Garden

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Candymakers by Wendy Mass

Four children have been chosen to compete in a national competition to find the tastiest confection in the country. Who will invent a candy more delicious than the Oozing Crunchorama or the Neon Lightning Chew?

Logan, the Candymaker's son, who can detect the color of chocolate by touch alone?

Miles, the boy who is allergic to merry-go-rounds and the color pink?

Daisy, the cheerful girl who can lift a fifty-pound lump of taffy like it's a feather?

Or Philip, the suit-and-tie wearing boy who's always scribbling in a secret notebook?

This sweet, charming, and cleverly crafted story, told from each contestant's perspective, is filled with mystery, friendship, and juicy revelations.

Tom's Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce

When his brother catches measles, Tom is sent away for the summer to stay with his uncle and aunt and is thoroughly fed up about it. What a boring summer it's going to be. But then, lying in bed one night, he hears the old grandfather clock in the hall strike the very strange hour of 13 o'clock. What can it mean? As Tom creeps downstairs and opens the door, he finds out...a magical garden, a new playmate, and the adventure of a lifetime.

Things Not Seen by Andrew Clemens

Bobby Phillips is an average fifteen-year-old boy. Until the morning he wakes up and can't see himself in the mirror. Not blind, not dreaming. Bobby is just plain invisible...

There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to Bobby's new condition; even his dad the physicist can't figure it out. For Bobby that means no school, no friends, no life. He's a missing person. Then he meets Alicia. She's blind, and Bobby can't resist talking to her, trusting her. But people are starting to wonder where Bobby is. Bobby knows that his invisibility could have dangerous consequences for his family and that time is running out. He has to find out how to be seen again before it's too late.

Five Children by E. Nesbit

The five children find a cantankerous sand fairy, a psammead, in a gravel pit. Every day 'It' will grant each of them a wish that lasts until sunset, often with disastrous consequences.

Once by Morris Gleitzman

Everybody deserves to have something good in their life. At least Once.

Once I escaped from an orphanage to find Mum and Dad.

Once I saved a girl called Zelda from a burning house.

Once I made a Nazi with a toothache laugh.

My name is Felix. This is my story.

The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness by Michelle Paver

Six thousand years ago. Evil stalks the land. Only twelve-year-old Torak and his wolf-cub companion can defeat it. Their journey together takes them through deep forests, across giant glaciers, and into dangers they never imagined.

In this page-turning, original, and spectacularly told adventure story, Torak and Wolf are joined by an incredible cast of characters as they battle to save their world, in this first book in the Chronicles of Ancient Darkness.

All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor

It's the turn of the century in New York's Lower East Side and a sense of adventure and excitement abounds for five young sisters - Ella, Henny, Sarah, Charlotte and Gertie. Follow along as they search for hidden buttons while dusting Mama's front parlor, or explore the basement warehouse of Papa's peddler's shop on rainy days. The five girls enjoy doing everything together, especially when it involves holidays and surprises. But no one could have prepared them for the biggest surprise of all!

Matt Cruse by Kenneth Oppel

Matt Cruse is a cabin boy on the Aurora, a huge airship that sails hundreds of feet above the ocean, ferrying wealthy passengers from city to city. It is the life Matt's always wanted; convinced he's lighter than air, he imagines himself as buoyant as the hydrium gas that powers his ship. One night he meets a dying balloonist who speaks of beautiful creatures drifting through the skies. It is only after Matt meets the balloonist's granddaughter that he realizes that the man's ravings may, in fact, have been true, and that the creatures are completely real and utterly mysterious.

A Tale Dark & Grimm by Adam Gidwitz

In this mischievous and utterly original debut, Hansel and Gretel walk out of their own story and into eight other classic Grimm-inspired tales. As readers follow the siblings through a forest brimming with menacing foes, they learn the true story behind (and beyond) the bread crumbs, edible houses, and outwitted witches.

Fairy tales have never been more irreverent or subversive as Hansel and Gretel learn to take charge of their destinies and become the clever architects of their own happily ever after.

Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris

Christian is gaga for Princess Marigold. But he's just a commoner, and no match for royalty. Heck, he lives in a cave with a troll! And now he's discovered another reason to put his love-soggy heart on Queen Olympia is scheming to take over the kingdom--and she'll bump off her own daughter to do it. Can Christian foil her diabolical plans?

[autumncottageattic]

Tom's Midnight Garden is a 1999 family fantasy film based on the novel Tom's Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce

[oscarwetnwilde]

James Wilby's 1990's roles, part one.

Howards End: Charles Wilcox (1992) Immaculate Conception: Alistair (1992) Tales From The Crypt: Horror In The Night- Nick Marvin (1996) Lady Chatterley: Sir Clifford Chatterley (1993) Adam Bede: Arthur Donnithorne (1992) Crocodile Shoes: Ade Lynn (1994) Tell Me That You Love Me: Michael Evans (1991) You, Me And It: Charles Henderson (1993) Tom's Midnight Garden: Uncle Alan Kitson (1999) Cotton Mary: John Macintosh (1999)

[proserpnias]

"There is a time between night and day, when landscapes sleep. Only the earliest riser sees that hour; or the all-night traveller, letting up the blind of his railway-carriage window, will look out on a rushing landscape of stillness, in which the trees and bushes and plants stand immobile and breathless in sleep."

Tom's Midnight Garden, Philippa Pearce

[kilterstreet]

The green of the garden was grayed over with dew; indeed, all its colors were gone until the touch of sunrise.

from Tom's Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce

[oscarmcgeachie]

Plot summary

When Tom Long's brother Peter gets measles, Tom is sent to stay with his Uncle Alan and Aunt Gwen. They live in an upstairs flat of a big house with no garden, only a tiny yard for parking. The elderly and reclusive landlady, Mrs Bartholomew, lives above them. Because Tom may be infectious, he is not allowed out to play, and he feels lonely. Without exercise he lies awake after midnight, restless, when he hears the communal grandfather clock strangely strike 13. He gets up to investigate and discovers that the back door now opens on a large sunlit garden. Every night the clock strikes 13 and Tom returns to the Victorian era grounds. There he meets another lonely child, a girl called Hatty, and they become inseparable playmates. Tom sees the family occasionally, but only Hatty (and as is revealed later in the book, the gardener) sees him and the others believe she plays alone. Tom writes daily accounts to his brother Peter, who follows the adventures during his recovery – and afterward, for Tom contrives to extend the stay with Aunt and Uncle. Gradually at first, Hatty grows up and passes Tom's age; he comes to realise that he is slipping to different points in the past. Finally she grows up at a faster rate, until she is an adult she is courting an acquaintance of hers, Barty. At this stage in the book, the season in the old garden tends to be winter. On the final night before Tom is due to go home, he goes downstairs to find the garden is not there. He desperately tries to run around and find it, but crashes into a set of bins from the present day courtyard, waking up several residents. He shouts Hatty's name in disappointment, before his Uncle Alan finds him and puts the events down to Tom sleepwalking. The following morning, Mrs Bartholomew summons Tom to apologise, only to reveal herself as Hatty, having made the link when she heard him call her name. The events Tom experienced were real in Hatty's past; he has stepped into them by going into the garden at the times she dreamt of them. On the final night, she had instead been dreaming of her wedding with Barty. After taking Tom home, Aunt Gwen comments on the strange way that Tom had said goodbye to Mrs Bartholomew when he left: he hugged her, as if she were a little girl.

[cogneartive]

slightly awkward time slip situation

[bumblebeeappletree]

Hannah visits a small berry farm that has been run by the same family for four generations.

Former presenter Peter Cundall visited with the Gardening Australia team more than 30 years ago!

The farm is now being run by Tom Wolfe and his uncle Tony. The family has German heritage and so has always grown a wide range of heritage European fruits, including gooseberries.

Tony Wolfe explains the colour and taste differences between a few varieties that his grandfather planted: ‘Leatherjacket’ stays yellow, but ‘Crown Bob’ gets a red tinge and becomes a bit sweeter. However, gooseberries have some large thorns, so Tony says to pick towards the middle of the bush to go with the shape of the thorn.

Gooseberries are quite hardy in Tasmania’s cool climate, making them easy to grow. The farm also grows raspberries, red and black currants, loganberries, jostaberries, Kentish cherries, and plums.

Jostaberries are a thornless hybrid that combines the flavour of gooseberries and blackcurrants. Prune them like raspberries, removing old canes, as the new canes will provide the fruit. They can be prolific, so it helps to aim for a vase shape and avoid a thicket that’s too hard to pick from!

Loganberries are another hybrid – a cross between raspberries and blackberries. They are ripe when deep purple. Tony trains canes horizontally to waist height for easier picking.

The Kentish cherry trees are pruned low and small for easier picking and to avoid a lanky, fragile crown that can break in the wind. It’s an heirloom variety from England with bright red skin and pale flesh that is great for jams and cooking.

The raspberries are grown from 100-year-old stock.

Tom took on the partnership with Tony after his father, Tony’s brother, died suddenly, but they are determined to keep the farm in the family. Tom’s young children are now growing up to love the farm.

Music is also a large part of the family tradition, with members playing in bands and orchestras over many decades. Tom’s father’s band, Midnight Revival, once played backup for AC/DC! Now Tom and brother Nick are often on tour with their country music band, The Wolfe Brothers.

Featured plants:

Gooseberry ‘Leatherjacket’ (Ribes uva-crispa cv.)

Gooseberry ‘Crown Bob’ (Ribes uva-crispa cv.)

Jostaberry (Ribes x nidigrolaria)

Loganberry (Rubus x loganobaccus)

Kentish Cherry (Prunus cerasus)

Raspberry (Rubus idaeus cv.)

Filmed in Neika, Tas

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

you're telling me these are the outfits people wore for the theme GARDEN OF TIME?

[dalek65daz]

my 3 world book day choice

great books

[totallyhussein-blog]

Give the lasting gift of a good book

As Easter approaches, it's good to think about different ways to celebrate this holiday, especially if all the children in your family have grown up and you're wanting to do something special to mark the occasion.

A donation of a book for a child or young person through the Wood Street Mission's Books Forever Appeal, is a brilliant way to celebrate Easter. It's also a lasting gift and a good book often leaves a lifelong impression on the person who reads it.  

Pax is a heartwarming children’s book by Sara Pennypacker which showcases the friendship between a young boy named Peter and his pet Fox called Pax. Pax is also illustrated by Jon Klassen and was on the National Book Award longlist.

This fantastic book has the same longevity as other classics like Toms Midnight Garden and The Secret Garden, and it also shares a similar theme of child and animal friendship, which is often explored in many classic children's stories.

Donating a book like Pax to the WSM's Books Forever Appeal couldn’t be easier! You can drop a new book off in person or have it delivered direct to the Wood Street Mission, 26 Wood Street, Manchester, M3 3EF, the UK.

[book--brackets]

Miss Happiness and Miss Flower by Rumer Godden

The Railway Children by E Nesbitt

Tom's Midnight Garden

Carry on Mr Bowditch

Hans Broker and the Silver Skates

Adam of the Road

Added!

[slytherinslut0]

quiet reckoning. tom riddle

“don’t come back here.” it’s a goodbye.

so you don’t. you tend the garden when the days are warm, work on the cottage when they're not. you grow to love winter. the calm, the stillness—the way nothing changes overnight. warmth lies dormant, hidden under the cold, yet nature still finds a way to make the quiet beautiful.

this, you think, reminds you of tom.

quiet reckoning; the reflection that happens in solitude. a subdued, internal process of facing some hard fucking truths.

prologue • does this make me dangerous?

yes, the prologue to this story is in fact a kinktober fic. how i decided to turn this into something more came entirely from you guys, so thank you for the passion you awakened within me to write this.

chapter one • i’m happy for you.

mattheo comes to visit sometimes, wandering into the quiet when your absence grows too thick. when too many of his owls have gone unanswered.

“tell me something true.” you whisper as the midnight grog begins to set in. “tell me something that’ll warm me through winter.”

"i’ve loved you most of my life." he mutters finally, into the top of your head. the words feel like a breath of summer, in a quiet, dark night. "that’s the kind of truth that could melt an iceberg."

chapter two. time has been good to you.

chapter three. i’m real.

a/n: a love letter to my childhood. devotion to the weapon inside me that is my yearning. tom, let me give you a happy ending, baby. mattheo, you had yours in beg for me (i’m sorry).

this will be updated regularly. just couldn’t wait to get it out 🤍

[scuderiasundays]

chili’s angels

summary: carlos can’t say no to his little girls, leaving him with some explaining to do on media day + a little insta au at the end 🌶️

words: 806

a/n: this one was in my drafts for a while but i brought it out for @thatsdemko and all the dad! carlos girlies out there. i know there are a lot of you! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

When Y/N found out she was pregnant with twin girls, Carlos was over the moon. He had been raised by a vivacious mother and alongside two sisters, who despite driving him mad as a child, had become his closest confidantes. Carlos stopped wearing the Tom Ford cologne you once loved when it started to trigger your nausea. He rushed to a nearby drive-through at midnight solely to satisfy your craving for fries and a milkshake. And when your shoelaces needed tying, he was always there to help.

“I feel like I’m asking way too much of you,” you spoke. He smiled and gently caressed your growing belly. "Never, mi amor. Taking care of you and our girls is my purpose now," he said tenderly. "You're an amazing mom already, and I can't wait to see our daughters grow up with the same strength and love that you have."

You had held off on naming the twins because you strongly felt you owed it to your daughters to meet them and get an actual feel for their energies. Together, you spent an evening brainstorming a list of potential names, Carlos voicing a particular preference for their names starting with the same letter. Labor proved to be more challenging than anyone had ever prepared you for, leaving you drained once it was over. Carlos cradled the newborns in his arms, softly uttering their names, "Melina" and "Mila," while his gaze shifted from one little face to the other.

Flash forward, and your twin daughters thought the world of their dad. You loved getting to see Carlos in a new light, your love for him only growing as you watched him interact with your girls. "Can we go outside and play? Please!" Melina and Mila were like the Energizer Bunny times two on the rare weekends when Carlos was home. Although he rarely said no to them, they were both feeling under the weather, so he shook his head. "How about we stay inside and do some drawing?" he suggested.

"Can we paint your nails? Mamá always lets us," the girls asked, their eyes widening as they edged closer to him. Carlos paused for a moment, thinking, what harm could it do? Eventually, he nodded in agreement. The girls knew exactly where their mother kept her nail polish kit and eagerly fetched the equipment. "We have Barbie pink and Ferrari red, just like our cars," Melina said, holding up the bottles with her pudgy fingers. "Mama wears the red one when we watch you drive on TV," Mila chimed in. He assumed Melina was referring to the little toy LaFerraris he had bought the girls on their birthday. He loved watching the girls as they raced in their garden, a tangible sign they had inherited his passion for cars.

"What's that thing you always say, Papá? For the Ferrari?" Mila looked up at her dad with chocolate brown eyes. "Forza Ferrari, mija," Carlos replied. Before he could even pick a color, Melina grabbed his hand and started painting his thumbnail bright red. The girls both had a hard time staying within the lines, so Carlos took it upon himself to clean up the edges. After they were done, he was instructed to place each hand under the UV lamp. He couldn’t help but wonder if the nail polish would come off easily later, but he soon noticed the excitement of being nail artists had worn the twins out. He picked them up and gently laid them down for a nap.

As Carlos boarded his flight to Hungary, he realized that his red manicure was not coming off without a fight. He absentmindedly picked at his nails, silently wishing his wife had been there to offer him the mini nail file she always carried. With media day approaching, he knew that people would definitely pick up on his vibrant nails.

"Nice nails, Carlos. Whose handiwork is this?" Natalie, a familiar face, pointed at his hands with a smile. Carlos chuckled and replied, "Oh, this masterpiece? My twin daughters painted them. I just don’t know how to say no to those two." He shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, here they are to say hello.” The TV presenter had organized a surprise Zoom call with Y/N and Carlos' daughters, who had been nicknamed "Chili’s Angels" by his fans.

"Buenos días, mis hijas. I hope you're feeling better," he greeted them, waving at the camera. Melina proudly held up her mom's hand, showcasing her red nails. "Look! You and Mamá match now!" she exclaimed. Carlos winked at his wife, grateful for the little moment of connection despite the distance.

"Forza Ferrari, Papá!" Mila squealed, waving goodbye. “They really are my angels, all three of them,” he thought, setting off a mental countdown of days until he was back in their arms again.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 57,575 others

carlossainz55: life is sweeter with my angels. hope i’m making you proud 🫶🏼

yourusername: we’re so lucky to have you! you just had to choose THAT photo of mila scarfing down her pizza? clearly my genes 🍕🤤

fan1: chili’s angels merch when? i swear i will buy it ALL

landonorris: ask melly and milly who their favorite uncle is and i’ll let you by at the start on sunday!

carlossainz55: “come over, uncle lando! we can paint your nails orange.” - melina & mila sainz

anasainzvdec: the most adorable nieces an aunt could wish for ❤️

scuderiaferrari: when mila said “forza ferrari” in an interview this morning! who’s cutting the damn onions?

fan2: carlos and @yourusername are starting them off young 🥹

[leclsrc]

prolonged eye contact with charles please! ++ an "almost kissed" type trope

intertwined – cl16

All seems lost after you fail to kiss the cute guy at George's party. Key word: seems.

auds here... i love uuu guys sorry bit mia i'm a bit sick but love u all always working on other reqs as we speak promise! title from this

There are still traces of orange in the purple sky when George introduces you to his good friend, Charles.

The party had somewhat simmered down, lunch leftovers being reheated for dinner in case anybody was staying that long. Faces here were unfamiliar, smiling and flushed with alcohol, topics like London and cars and taxes making conversation glide easy. But you’d still been quiet, your companion having left you to talk about something or other, leaving you backed into a far corner of the room examining pages of books and listening to the music.

So it’s George, one of the two hosts at this party, who asks if you’re doing alright and oh, didn’t you mention you liked piano, well this is Charles and he plays proper well, he does.

“Do you play for a living?” You ask, both of you walking to the house’s garden area. You lean against the wall there, sizing him up.

“No, I”—he tries to find the right wording—“piano is a hobby. I drive. Cars.” He’s a tad tall, with long fluffy hair and eyes that look a little tired, despite the deep green of them.

“Oh? Thanks for the clarification.” You reply curtly. “Almost thought you were going to say you drive a lorry.” 

He chuckles. “That’s how I know George.”

“What, lorry driving?” You both laugh, and it’s easy. It’s all easy. You tell him you own a gallery in Chelsea, you tell him your heels hurt so much it’s a wonder you paid so much money for them, he laughs, he asks some more. It’s so easy, in fact, that eventually George has to come in and dispel the conversation himself, and it’s only then that you realize the whole indoors area has been emptied; Carmen smiles sheepishly, holding a stack of dirtied bowls. 

He walks you to your car, which is parked far away from the house. You complain about the shit parking configuration in Stanley Gardens and he agrees even if he’s never here too long, or too often. The heels are a proper impediment to your walking, and you have to stop a few times, much to your chagrin.

At the third lamppost you stop at to adjust your ankle, just a few steps from your car, he offers to carry your shoes for you.

“Is it socially acceptable?” You stare at your feet and then at him, hiding a smile. “Walking barefoot in London?”

“Your car’s just there”—he points to your Lexus—“and it’s nearing midnight, I don’t think anyone will mind. If they do, run like hell, yes?” You laugh, easing yourself out of the shoes. The asphalt is cold and you’re already thinking of washing the dirt off, but it’s so much more comfortable.

Charles carries your coat and shoes, opens the door for you when you unlock it. You’re halfway inside, eyes meeting his from where he stands behind the door, smiling shyly. “Thanks. Did you—are you parked far? I can…”

“I could use the walk,” he says, smiling.

“Okay,” you whisper. He hands you your coat and shoes, and you lean closer to take them from him. You’re divided only by the car now, eyes stuck on the other’s. He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Closer, a bit closer—and then your phone rings, loud in the quiet evening.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, it’s—I have a boyfriend.” It leaves your mouth in a garbled, shameful utterance, and your face warms.

He shuts his eyes, stopping just shy of your face. “Right. Okay.”

—

“Did you guys even date?” Your friend Mila asks, amused.

“Christ, no. I don’t even know why I called Tom my boyfriend—plus, that whole thing ended like two months ago.” You make a right on the next street, eyes squinting as you find a place to park in the crowded street. 

“Right. ‘Cause you met that Charles guy at Carmen’s party.”

“Yeah, the one you left me alone at?” You click your tongue, laughing. “Well, yeah. But I didn’t even get his number at the time, and it—it seemed like a dead end thing.”

“He walked you to your car, held your shoes and the door, almost kissed you—that’s the most romantic guys ever get these days, isn’t it?”

“Sure. But that was two months ago.”

You snag a spot right in front of your gallery and turn off the car, unbuckling your seatmate and climbing out. You hope the conversation has died with the car ride—you really don’t wish to rehash a fling lost to bad timing. Unfortunately for you, Mila is already launching into the topic when you cross onto the sidewalk and greet your staff inside.

She pushes the glass entrance open. “Who’s to say fate won’t let it happen again?”

“Let what happen?” Your assistant, Greg, who is almost if not just as nosy as Mila, pipes up. Lucky you.

“Nothing, Greg. Back to work,” you say, at the same time Mila says: “She almost banged a race driver.”

“Mila!” You swat her arm, and she smiles, but eventually leaves it alone, spending an hour dicking around before leaving to go to her own office. 

The day descends into usual work: calls from clients, from art collectors, from regulars, from Sotheby’s or Tate. Visits are scattered throughout the afternoon, Greg taking the time to tour them around and offer what pieces are for sale; you’re content taking calls and emails, doing most of the behind-the-scenes work. “Potential buyer,” Greg announces, popping his head into your office door. “I’ll leave it to you.”

These types of customers are always entrusted to you, for the nitty gritty questions and negotiations. You nod, raking a hand through your hair and walking into the wide area of the gallery; there’s a man turned to a Cezanne piece, stance stoic and stature tall.

“That’s a lovely one,” you say as an introduction.

The man turns. He is also Charles. You genuinely think your heart skips a beat; his eyes widen in brief surprise before relaxing, and so do yours.

He asks if he’s right, if you’re you, the one at George’s party in Notting Hill a few months ago. You confirm his statement with a polite smile. A handshake is exchanged, a price discussed, conversation about where it goes made. You migrate to your office to maybe seal the deal, though by then the conversation has quickly grown casual.

“Had I known this was your gallery, I would’ve tried to avoid it,” he confesses. “I don’t want your boyfriend getting jealous.”

Your face is warm when you cough. “Right, uh—no boyfriend.”

You refuse to watch his smile, but you feel his eyes on you as you rifle through paperwork.

You continue with the business portion of the conversation anyway. “I’ll be in touch, see if we can level a price within the next month. But in the meantime keep this and… my card.” You slip a few documents into his hand, noticing the way his grip seems to linger, and he stands to signal his departure.

“I’ll get going,” he says, smiling. “Merci. For your number.”

You open the door for him, in a flirty repeat of the last time you saw each other. He exits, then turns, eyes boring into yours. “I’ll see you,” you say, seeking his affirmation, his accented English telling you what you want to hear.

“You will.” And he’s so near you again, his cologne is all you can smell. He bends down, eyes meeting your lips. “Soon.” Then, in a second of cologne and a smile, he’s leaving you unkissed, like you did him two months ago, holding your card in-between two hands as he drives into the orange sky, left still with traces of purple.

[buds-and-baubles]

(agent grayson 2014-2016 issue #4)

so i finished issue 4 and i have thoughts about it and issue 2 seeing as i will not be doing a seperate post for it (but have obviously read it before issue 4).

for issue 2, i did not like midnighter being with the god garden at all. i had to actually research what it is on a wiki and think the concept of it being an orbital space station run by the gardener is a blatant ripoff of bendix's stormwatch. that, and the mere fact that the gardener oversees tons of dangerous experiments and is responsible for the creation of midnighter?

that's.. literally what henry bendix did. the god garden still existing (not responsible for midnighter's creation) but instead showing midnighter's growth in his response to possible manipulation could've been a unique opportunity of where this time he chooses to stay with his friends and family when faced with that.

that is how i would've handled the god garden and its presence in midnighter's journey for this. he'd still be in his whimsy scary grinning gorey violence and downtime with friends and family but would also be working to track down the meta bio-weapons alone and with his loved ones while they help him against the god garden.

or interesting idea: the god garden is targeting apollo instead and it's his plot against it. he shows off his inner strength and how he is unable to be manipulated away from his friends and family and gets a plot of him absolutely dismantling every shred of the god garden. i almost prefer this second idea more as it would've given apollo more time on pages.

issue 2 for me described by a more sleep deprived and less pained version because of meds version of myself was 'stinky' so no 'icky' garden. also, i think tom king utilizes cannibalism in far too many plot lines and they are never well done. i'm not saying it shouldn't exist in media, just that it shouldn't be written by someone who doesn't know how to write it (or women for that matter).

as for issue 4, i genuinely had to take a break from being angry due to the sexualization of dick grayson. having a woman take pictures of him shirtless without his consent to show to other women made me grind my teeth. when they then were suggesting finding his room to do a 'man-ty raid', i actually screamed and had to skip ahead to the page for midnighter and go back to finish reading later.

the unfortunate cherry on top of a seeley written cardboard cake covered in toothpaste as frosting was making dick flip around and the women who were sexualizing chase after him and continue to do so. and what happens? dick is punished for it. the one who took pictures to invade his privacy and treat him like a piece of meat got extra credit in hadrian's school. just. ugh.

as for midnighter's presence, he was limited to a page this time and he wasn't alone! andrew aka the dc version of apollo was there for the first time i've seen since my impromptu reading of stormwatch vol 3.

midnighter is interrogating someone regarding another meta bio-weapon in the form of 'the heart' by dangling him over the edge of a skyscraper when apollo arrives stating the man he's threatening 'doesn't know' and that he (midnighter) did his part. that it was time to come back to stormwatch and him. also, to let the guy go.

midnighter does exactly that by allowing him to fall which andrew– sorry, apollo states he has to go catch him which midnighter agrees and says 'you know i'll be gone by the time you get back'. page ends with apollo flying down to catch the falling guy while calling midnighter 'so. damn. stubborn.'

oh, they still do not understand you, (sun) king. they would not have survived your original self so they had to alter you. shame. unfortunately for those who didn't have the guts to do it, i'm doing it anyways!

so stormwatch/stormwatch prime still exists in my transfer idea but it's the one run by jackson king and christine trelane with the original roster and newer people (winter, fahrenheit, fuji, hellstrike, etc.). what're they doing post-transfer? beats the fuck out of me. someone whose primary focus is stormwatch can go wild with it, i'd love to hear what someone would do.

as for how i would've handled it for apollo and midnighter? whether i have the plot be focused on the original like midnighter or apollo for the god garden, they're still juggling both the 'organ race' of meta bio-weapons in the forms of organs on top of the god garden. knowing them, the god garden was actually probably only present for a single issue as apollo and or midnighter brought it crashing to the ground in an ashen heap.

they would've gone there to interrogate the man regarding the missing meta bio-weapon in the form of 'the heart' crashing somewhere (which midnighter was tracking). midnighter would be dangling the man over the skyscraper and when the man looked at apollo to perhaps convince midnighter not to drop him, he found a smile that was a mix of sympathy and something matching in midnighter's outstretched grin.

when the man is dropped from the building, the two simply talk about the whole dropping a penny from a skyscraper debate while comparing what happens to the penny versus the falling man. they then chat about what they're gonna do for dinner, about what jenny q. and the rest of the authority are up to before they kiss.

a kiss with midnighter clinging to the skyscraper and apollo hovering from the sky, distant text below the building saying something like 'splat' as the man hit the ground.