#just makes me real sad because michael obviously has so much love for fandom despite not really being part of it

[fefairys]

also some of their (specifically cameron's) opinions just infuriate me lmao.

cameron thinks that liv tyler (the robot bunny that jade gave john for his birthday) was "the worst narrative decision in all of homestuck" and that he was disappointed when that is what turned out to be the 'mysterious' object in the green box. every single time the bunny shows up he reiterates how fucking cringey he thinks it is and how much he despises it. it is almost comedic how angry he is about a silly whimsical robot bunny

like DUDE. ALL OF THE OTHER BIRTHDAY PACKAGES TO JOHN HAD BUNNIES IN THEM. OF COURSE THIS ONE WOULD TOO. THAT IS THE FUCKING MOTIF. IT WOULD BE WEIRD IF IT *WASNT* ANOTHER BUNNY.

also, the bunnies are symbolic of the kids' friendship and interconnectedness with each other. they all have these bunnies, passed around through different time shenanigans with each other, and they all, on their own, without coordination, think of gifting the bunny to john on his birthday. thats BEAUTIFUL!!! its fucking FRIENDSHIP!!!!

homestuck made this world is interesting for the historical context of what was going on in the SA threads at the time but good lord it would be SO much better if it had a tumblrina perspective… someone who was an enthusiastic fandom goer from the start, as opposed to just two guys who used to think fandom is cringe (and cameron STILL seems to believe fandom is cringe but is trying to be polite about it)

like the tumblr perspective on homestuck is, imo, very important to contextualizing large parts of homestuck as a whole, and they simply don’t have that, and it gets really frustrating as someone who was here for it.

[lambourngb]

he’s got a smart mouth but a good heart - Michael Guerin

It’s Day 2, celebrating characters, and much to my own surprise, at the end of season 2, Michael Guerin decided to move into my brain and take up residence. Obviously I still love Alex Manes (He lives first and foremost in my brain since 1x08), but there was something about how Michael buried his own pain about his mother to help everyone in season two that rang pretty true to my own life right now. I didn’t always like what he was doing in season 2 but I understood it.

Anyway, when I find a story that celebrates how complicated he is, I cheer and rejoice- so here’s a few of the stories that I have gone back to again and again.

Truck stop knives and other assessors of childhood @angsty-aliens (13,200) I can’t lie, I love a good trope story, and I especially love a good sci-fi trope story, so this story hits all of my buttons. It takes our two science nerds, Liz and Michael, mucking around, and accidentally creating a version of Michael- but not just any version, but the child who hitchhiked to Fosters ranch, completely over humans and desperate to find his family. The kid who was feral from neglect and abuse... he was the cutest thing and the most mortifying thing that ever happened to Michael to be displayed and shown. This story takes the de-aged trope and turns it on its head, and oh yeah, there’s a sweet backdrop to Michael and Alex getting together.

Implicit Memories of You by @ninswhimsy (3464) - So this is an amnesia story canon-divergent story set after 2x11 basically, where they use the mind erasing drug on Michael. I know, I’m reccing this about Michael characterization, but it’s so solidly him after all the memories are stripped away and he’s acting on instincts, locked in a room to torture Alex with before death. There’s so much going on in so few words, something that Nin is a master at, especially the ephemeral remembrances of his mother that Michael has- oof right in the feels.

Maybe this time (he’ll stay) by @hannah-writes​ (7700) This is a sequel to one of my favorite stories I recced last year, dealing in alternative timelines where in one world, Michael is lost and alone and has pushed Alex away, and in another world where Alex came home from Iraq in a flagged draped coffin. It answers the question, what about Mikey? Where’s his happy ending? The confirmation of the multiverse means there’s an Alex out there who needs him- and through trial and error, Michael finds him. The world building in both stories is top notch, because for every action, there’s a reaction and reason shaping Michael.

Constant as the northern star by celzmccelz (53,000) - don’t know the tumblr here - This is an Mpreg, and it starts solidly after 1x13 and goes AU from there. But what if in the 100 mile drive home from Caulfield, Michael and Alex share a grief-induced moment of insanity where they fall back into their oldest language- sex for comfort, and then Michael does everything he does in the finale, including turning toward Maria, what if there was a souvenir? Despite the trope of mpreg, this is just how I see Michael, deeply in love with Alex but unable to trust that Alex feels the same depth in return. The friendships in here are also top-notch, from Kyle being a baby-doctor, to Isobel having her own Max-related spiral unable to let go of her brother only to refocus on Michael, to Liz fucking off with Rosa for the first half of the story because she’s caught up in her own grief (which turned out to be canon!). And there’s a whole plot here! With Jesse Manes being the worst.

Leave the light on by @sabrinachill​ (36,900) - Confession time- I love fake dating as a trope, I know, shocked right? But I especially love it with RNM because Malex are exes by 1x03. Mattie nailed the dynamic of pining and the assumption of unrequited love so well in this story. Although the POV switches here a bit between chapters, (and Alex is fabulous) what I really really loved was how she wrote Michael, in love but convinced that he’s messed up too much for Alex. Aware of his faults but not in a sullen way, but an acknowledgment that he was in a bad place and Alex hasn’t always been the best remedy him in the past. It was a very mature take on the “give me another chance” trope in Malex reunion stories, where both sides had a share of blame. The plot was suspenseful and tight (how do people do that???) with a climax that honestly shocked me! I really enjoyed rereading it while I prepped my rec-sets, and I won’t be surprised if this story isn’t mentioned by everyone doing ‘Creators Week’. It’s worthy of all the love.

Temporary wounds by @prouvaireafterdark​ (7800) - How many times can I rec this story? Hopefully you’re not bored by my adoration of this Lynne.  So even though it’s set post-season 1 with the assumption that Michael/Maria will fizzle out while Alex/Forrest date- it’s actually perfectly set for season 3 (an author who is psychic??). As a rule, I hate jealousy as a trope, but this story has the only type of jealousy I want to see on screen- where Michael wonders what was missing inside of him that Alex didn’t want to be public during their long affair (even with the acknowledgment that Alex was too scared before)- like that type of sad pining is my catnip!

The first who ever did by nostalijinks (33,000) post season 1, but really it also stands pretty well after season 2.  There was an interview during season 1 I think that talked about how all Michael really wanted was to be a hero to Alex (the way he stepped in front of Jesse as a kid)  but he thinks he failed at it since Alex enlisted. That failure soured him in ways but he never stops trying, for Alex. This is a really well done 5 times plus 1 story, with an overreaching arc of reconciliation between Alex and Michael, starting as teenagers, then as adults while Michael is with Maria, then as friends, real friends, trying to support Alex as Alex dates. The whole emotional journey of maturity that Michael takes here is so well done, where there’s no real villains in the friend group. I just love it. I wish the author had written 100 more like this one, but as a standalone work it’s epic.

The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine​ (25,000) Ly has a very large body of work, that you could spend days paging through on AO3 or tumblr, but this one hits two of my kinks hard- the amnesia story line and true love conquers all. So three fandoms ago I was huge into Steve/Bucky, that iconic moment in Cap 2 where Bucky breaks through the brainwashing has never left me. This story takes my love for that moment, and makes it Malex. Alex gets programmed by his family and set loose on his friends, on the aliens and it’s a shitshow bloodbath since he’s really fucking good at kicking ass. Michael is caught between keeping everyone safe and trying not to hurt Alex, and the tension is just top-notch. I love how it’s not an immediate fix either, the way they circle each other in the aftermath, wanting to come home, but home would be a totally new step for both of them. Just chef’s kiss good at joining action, angst, and romance together.

Into the palm of your hand by @haloud​ (5900) hal is a treasured friend, so I am admitting some bias here, but we both enjoy talking about how wonderful and sad Michael is and how desperately we enjoy poking at that softness and then wrapping him up with love again... so this story was written pre-shamegate (and if you know what that means, I’m sorry) but it matches my head canon of what the history of hiding does to someone. The internalization of believing maybe there’s a reason behind the hiding that has nothing to do with homophobic townies. Alex has an ex boyfriend come to town, and he doesn’t tell Michael. And omg the journey hal takes us on with Michael’s spiral and Brave Little Toaster act was so wonderful and painful and real. The communication between these two was top notch as they worked through a road bump from the past, and let’s face it, once we get our malex back, these things are going to happen, and it will either tear them apart or bring them closer together- I prefer to believe it will be closer together.

There is beauty in a failure by @jule1122​ (2400) There’s been a few Greg and Michael stories to pop up on my radar after 2x10, and this one was one of my favorites. This is a Greg who pulls no punches in exposing his brother’s past to Michael, but also gives Michael the space to work through what he wants. It’s an AU from 2x12, that allowed Michael to break up with Maria for basically the same reasons that Maria used on him in 2x13. The way Michael is able to what he wants and communicate it Alex in the end- so good! We can only hope to see something similar in season 3.

I don’t know what to think (but I think of supernovas) by @queersirius​ (3900) This story is a delight from start to finish- I mean frustrated cursing turns the console on into a hologram who then takes the most pleasing form to Michael’s eyes? SIGN ME UP for those shenanigans. I fucking loved how Isobel saw it first too. And then the comedy of Alex discovering it? And what happens afterwards? Oh it’s so delicious. Now of course, full disclosure, this light-hearted romp through the feels also inspired me  to think up a much much sadder version of Michael building an AI for companionship considering how isolated he ended up being at the end of Season 2 and we all know Michael needs friends, badly.

Innuendo by the Roswell anon (6000) written for @bisexualalienblast​  the roswell anon is my favorite treasure in this fandom, I could pretty much list all of their stories as examples of some very fine Michael Guerin characterization. This one was one of my favorite post-season 1 fix-it fics though, because it has some of the most real 28-30 year old guy dialogue I’ve come across- from the crude jokes, to the sharply self-deprecating observations- this is Alex and Michael stripped down, all edges but what’s left is fatigue and love. The resolution at the end, where Alex observes that yes, Michael has tried the last 10 years but this is their first chance to try together- to pull in the same direction? It just lays me flat on the ground with how true that is to canon.

Whenever You Want to Begin, Begin by @foramomentonly (3200) - this is a sequel, and the first story is dynamite- don’t get me wrong- but it moves from the hopeful side of an ending to legit Happily-Ever-After here, and I devoured every word. First of all, having Michael turn to photography as a way of self-improvement is fucking genius. Photographers are always at the center of every happy event, but never the focus, and that screams Michael to me, the way he lives on the outskirts of the 9-5 job and literal outskirts of town in his trailer. The other thing is photographers are revealed by their work, and that’s also something I head-canon with Michael just in the mundane- he’s good with his hands, he wants to leave a car better than he found. Anyway, this story is gorgeously written, moves a bit like a really good bottle of wine- heavy but soft, as you watch Michael become Alex’s friend, and even more importantly, Alex becomes Michael’s friend. Fantastic- I’ve read it about four times now since it was published.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Since Cas is supposed to be spending a lot of time with Jack next season and teaching him about life and stuff, and probably being really sad about Dean while he does it, do you think Jack might notice and bring up Cas and Dean's relationship? He certainly would have no reason to avoid the topic like Sam or anyone else would. If they're really serious about focusing more on interpersonal relationships then I really don't see how they can avoid talking about Dean and Cas.

The tone of your question is making me weirdly feel like we’re verging somewhere between reality show and scripted drama, where the characters are almost out of control of the writers and all the drama is bubbling under the surface, ready to spill out at any moment :P 

Like, from a writing perspective, I feel that they just do not approach it as if Dean and Cas are literally real and in love in the same way that to fans who only get the finished content, it can come across… There’s a much more mechanical approach to actually writing scenes than feeling like there is any inevitability. It depends entirely on what Dabb and/or the writer of the scene/episode wants to convey on a wider thematic level and on the closer personal level. If they wanted to emphasise that both Cas and Jack are missing Dean and Jack asks Cas about Dean, then it’s 100% in their control to script Jack’s innocence and Cas’s care with responding, based on circumstances, location, current mood, other things that happen this episode, and wider season-long factors, to be as cagey as he likes. 

If Cas and Jack were having that throwing the ball back and forth moment I was dreaming of this morning, it could be cute and wholesome, and Cas regretfully says that they’re doing this because it’s the kind of human thing Dean would suggest, and Jack makes a sad inquiry about how Dean helped Cas become more human and learn to do human things, and Cas, aware that Jack is struggling to be human, answers from the POV of his own slide towards humanity that Dean’s caused, and talks about how Dean has lead him down that path with fondness and pain, and ends with assuring Jack he’s doing really well compared to Cas’s own attempt, and we just charged through a ton of serious Destiel territory without touching the sides. 

Maybe Jack gets hurt on a fight that they get into in the sharp end of the dramatic search for Dean, and Cas has to heal him and laments his dumb humans always getting hurt and now Jack is one of them, but then prompted or not, starts talking about how strong Dean is regardless, and it lapses into a quiet moment of them agreeing they’ll save Dean and he’ll be okay, and again, Cas says some deep shit about Dean but it’s not romantic in the surface text, it’s prompted by his sense of protectiveness of Dean and Jack, and that linking factor is just the conversation starter. 

Or Jack does some gross thing and then blames Dean, like spitting food like Dean did in front of him in 13x04 and Cas tells him off and Jack says Dean does it, defensively, and Cas gets all roll-eyes-fond-smile, and says that Dean is the best and worst teacher of humanity, and they get into the subject that way… You know, that would be a comic beats, quick answer, joke about Dean to break the tension moment and wouldn’t really get deep at all except for the implied massive fondness they both have for Dean. 

Or Jack and Cas are having a quiet moment maybe driving somewhere or stopped at the side of the road and Jack asks Cas to tell him more about Dean because he seems to know him so well but they would be fully in the right to make the question innocent and to have Cas respond carefully like for a kid who doesn’t need to know all his angst, and Jack might see how Cas is handling it all but he will remember Sam and Dean acting so differently about losing Cas when he was newborn that he can only really at the most probing to maintain his innocence ask Cas about how he is feeling about Dean compared to how Sam and Mary are handling it. And as messed up as Cas might be he’s not under an obligation to tell Jack that he’s pining for Dean romantically, and their shared connection to Dean is a family one, not the extra romantic stuff that only Cas has, so talking about that is what can result in any probing directly from Jack in a calm moment if they don’t want to force a confession, which would be the writers’ hand, not Jack or Cas making it happen.

You know, those ideas just as an example of many ways of how to think about the themes and character stuff going on about how a scene is structured and why you would write it. As Jack spent so much more time with Dean than he did with Cas, and ditto Cas has of course more knowledge of Dean, AND that freakin attention hog drama llama is off being possessed by Michael and the main mytharc for them as a result, there’s so many reasons for Jack and Cas to discuss Dean or find him the common thread in a scene that will help them connect. 

But there’s no actual imperative on the writing or with the characters that will FORCE them to talk about Cas’s feelings because as much as they’re so strongly implied the text is sagging and tearing and creaking around the weight of it all, the writers are using romance TROPES but they are NOT writing a romance NARRATIVE. Like, romantic things happen all the time between Dean and Cas, but of course the actual story is action/horror/drama and all of those tropes have the bigger storytelling weight. The overlap is enough you can see the ups and downs of the story as basically any narrative - it’s like horoscopes in that sense - and you need to take common sense clues on the writing to know what is actually being told. 

The jokes we make that the writers keep Dean n Cas separate or whatever because they’ll just start making out are funny and true in some ways for us as the audience, our expectations and desires if we had full control of the story, especially when reading the emotional weight of their personal narrative. Like, we can identify SO MANY “just kiss him you fool!” moments in the story, obviously none of which were actually kisses despite being the opportune moment.

In the wider picture, the story is never constructed around telling itself just about Dean n Cas and making the beats of their relationship the MAIN reason anything is happening, as in, this story is first and foremost about the hunter pining for the angel and everything has been constructed to be about that from the start. It can inform major events and stuff, but it still isn’t WHY they are writing the story. I know it’s common discourse to be like NOTHING MAKES SENSE WITHOUT DESTIEL but in truth you can ALWAYS see the real line the writers mean to take and while I don’t think the Destiel is accidental, I also don’t think it’s a primary motivator to the plot or characterisation.

This is also NOT a wild hot take for a Destiel shipper or meta writer, it’s being clear about what the show’s intent actually is, and trying to understand where the Destiel reading comes from. Like, in no ways am I saying Destiel isn’t real, a solid part of the narrative and acting, and knowingly written into scenes and story arcs and that there’s always a romantic flavour to Dean n Cas stuff that lacks elsewhere. Of course there’s all this subtext to float a massive ship on. But the luxury of this sort of subtextual romantic story is that the main arc between the characters can have plausible deniability and that in no way for where the writers are working from, does that force them to make choices which they aren’t extremely knowingly doing when it comes to the give and take of making scenes read one way or another. 

Like, the entire point is, no previous season has been written as if the actual pitch was canon Destiel at the highest level, because if it had been, we’d have canon Destiel right now, I can say from the luxury of a hiatus where all previous seasons are laid out before us very firmly not having canon Destiel. 13x01-6 was written to be about Dean and Cas in a way that has not ever really been so overt that the emotional arc Dean feels about Cas is the controlling interest but at the end of the day it did not go canon in that time and we moved onto the next story arc. Which is nice we GOT a story arc so much about how they feel but it was still just teasing and subtext and all.

And I am seriously, seriously, not saying this from a place of negativity, bitterness, or whatever else. It’s not a criticism!!! it’s just stating how the fact of the story is. The narrative about Destiel has got so wildly derailed by attention grabbing hype I’ve been clutching my face and wailing at recently about how the end of last season was their big moment to make it canon or they’d have irredeemably fucked up, and blah blah everything seemed to be going that way... No! It wasn’t! The story is not beholden to Destiel! It’s CLEARLY not except for 13x01-6 and that was a contained arc and honestly I still haven’t processed what it means in a bigger picture except that I have no bitterness and all the chill for now.

But the writers’ room is just plodding along through seasons and plotlines and all the different character arcs, and all their MotW and episode pitches and ridiculous ideas and they’re using Destiel as a known emotional tool we respond to and they also clearly like, while at the same time all their focus on plot stuff can very clearly be nothing to do with Destiel and in no particular hurry to do anything about it. 

I need this to be really really clear because I spent last season yelling into the void it felt like, repeatedly warning about fandom hype, expectations, and so on, and a bunch of people still got all revved up then really confused and disappointed and upset that the whole thing hadn’t been a massive Destiel whatever, and that instead the episode had been about *gasp* Sam and Jack and Lucifer??? (And also Michael!Dean with no build up and out of the blue because we hadn’t been warned since 12x12 it was happening, because the only thing that happened in 12x12 was Destiel flirting and confessions and sometimes if you were looking closely Mary being an evil hag :P) 

So this year I’m going full grump about fandom narratives, expectations, predictions, told-you-sos and so on. At least on my blog, if you come chat to me sounding like the narrative is locked in stone and Dean n Cas are so real they’re breaking the bounds of reality to force the writers to write them being gay together, I’ve just been in fandom too long at this point not to feel like I’ve seen it all before and the only predictions I make are about the fandom meltdowns and what do you know, of THAT I have 100% clarity >.> 

PLEASE be critical of what you read; things that might be jokes are hyperbole and things that might be are serious are usually filled with disclaimers and attention to how the reader might react, such as reminders of anyone’s ability to predict canon, and so on. If I’m going around making unfounded statements about Sam ripping the sleeves off his shirts, I’ve seen a BTS pic with a sensible explanation for why we’re not seeing this on screen but it’s a hilarious detail to know when he wears a jacket indoors... But I’m going to PRETEND Sam has flipped and torn the sleeves off all his shirts until canon proves me wrong, because I know it will so I can dick around making jokes about it because no one gets hurt when it doesn’t happen. When someone is making gargantuan claims about canon, Destiel, intent etc, even if you think they’re so much smarter than you (we’re all just faking it, truly. You’re good :P) don’t take anyone’s word as gospel. Understand that meta has no secret access or understanding, there’s no certainty in what we say or do. 

i mean I am flat out being hesitant to talk about things which others think are firm spoilers because I just do not think they’re at the point where we know anything about them to say anything. What is the tone, the context, the, you know, full episode surrounding it? I don’t really care about spoilers because they never mean anything, it’s just a weird collecting hobby we do on the internet, and belatedly offer interesting context but before we see the episode are just infuriating and misleading and can only ever be. Full spoiler CLIPS of episodes can be infuriating and misleading, if it’s of an early scene that is pretending to be something else before we get to the real tone/plot/reason for the episode. There’s no validation or proof from spoilers, only glimpses and PR and no storytelling context to explain why it looks the way it does. 

The spoilers from SDCC were all utterly banal, empty, predictable answers that tell us nothing of any use or relevance because they’re not going to tell us anything actually interesting or useful because if they were, Dabb would start narrating his full meaning of a chunk of episode. At best we can use the common themes of the answers they gave as our starting points for interrogating the text, like I did above with my hypothesis for Cas and Jack conversations, about Jack feeling human without his powers, and we know they’re spending more time together and they’re looking for Dean. So we can construct ideas but they can go anywhere the imagination takes us... Which is, of course, not where the season is going unless we happen to roll some really lucky speculation dice. Which means, again, the spoilers are only actually relevant/matter WHEN WE HAVE THE ACTUAL EPISODES.

Speculation is ridiculous and I am more and more annoyed by it the longer I’m in fandom, because it ends up with everyone seeming to want to  know the story in advance. There’s a media industry in guessing, selectively spoiling, and basically just over-analysing things only to try and work out what happens next. People on the internet being able to guess all the plot twists and secrets because tropes work in certain ways and there are inevitable conclusions sometimes, or legit detectiveing the resolution to a final book or episode or whatever, are missing the entire point, in their need to KNOW what happens next, that it’s only watching it which is actually fun. And if people struggle watching something without knowing what happens, then wait a day and spoil yourself on the real facts and then watch... Blargh. 

Wanting to know the raw beats of the story and all the things that happen, usually just to look smart and like you beat the system of the mystery of storytelling, is not what we should be doing as a fandom. We should be ENJOYING ourselves in the fictional space, not stressing over what will or won’t happen. Or feeling like the story now HAS to happen one way or another.

No. It doesn’t. It never does. It can act like it does right up until the last minute and we can hope that it goes where it seems to be indicating and talk about storytelling integrity ahead of any rug pull or whatever, but the writers themselves, the people crafting the story, are under NO pressure from the characters, story, plot... not to do whatever they want with it.

Like... idk, I just feel like fandom has got so full of hyperbole that we’ve got to the point where people aren’t reading it as hyperbole any more and are legit operating on a level where demands and interpretation are on this completely wild place where everything’s just Destiel holding the writers hostage and screaming and there’s full agendas and No Homo Interns galore and I really can not tell at this point, if I whipped up the No Homo Intern from scratch now instead of 3 years ago, if people would BELIEVE it because things got so wild at the end of last season, when it came to how people were treating the text as a living, almost violent thing. 

Destiel is ever-present in our lives, yes. It is NOT the writers’ top priority in a scene and they’re under no obligation to make it so despite what would be in the best interests of the show and story, and scenes written without it overtly present are not going to be bad, negligent, stupid, poorly-written, confused, forced at gunpoint by the No Homo Intern, or all written by Buckleming. It is very very possible that the show continues to be written entirely as it has been almost the entire time - which is to say, with Destiel subtextual, and not on the top priority of the agenda in every writers’ mind in every scene, up to and including when Dean and Cas interact or one of them talks about the other. 

It’s just one of those things like the social contract which I tend to assume we’re all operating on until things have gone way too far and I realise I am the only one who read the terms and conditions and also someone just got stabbed??

[robininthelabyrinth]

Countless Roads - Chapter 43

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 43 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

———————————————————————————

"Do you guys ever not get in trouble?" Sara asks, her arms crossed.

"Hey," Len protests mildly, though privately he agrees. This trip has just been one bout of bad luck after another. "I ain't the one who uses jam tarts to brainwash people."

"I can't believe Ray ate one of those after we specifically told him not to," Kendra says, looking down at Ray. Ray's head is in her lap; Sara knocked him out pretty quickly after she got over the initial surprise at seeing Ray attempting to murder his teammates.

"He didn't really think there was a problem," Mick points out with a shrug.

"He should've believed the rest of us," Kendra says, but the way she gently moves her fingers through his hair belies her harsh words. "I hope he's okay."

She doesn't look over at Rip when she says that. Kendra brought Rip down herself, hawk wings and red eyes emerging alongside screams of accusation that Rip had stolen Carter from her with his mission as she threw herself bodily at him in what ended up being a very quick fight. There were clearly some lingering issues there. Just as clearly, Kendra obviously wasn't comfortable with having expressed them quite so viciously.

Rip is currently tied up and gagged to make sure he doesn't do anything else to the Waverider.

That's their assumption, anyway; no one has heard anything from Jax or Stein since they went off with Ray to repair the ship, and judging by the determined way that Rip keeps struggling despite his bonds, his eyes blank as he ignores all logic and sense to keep trying to obey the Matron's directive, they're pretty sure Ray wouldn't exactly be available for questioning if they woke him up.

Len hates the fact that he doesn't know where Jax and Stein are or how they're doing.

He hates the fact that they're trapped in this ugly parlor room.

He hates the fact that there are no ghosts around, other than the angel and sad-faced Franz, who hovers over the Matron's bound form.

Oh, and he hates the repetitive thuds that come from the thick layer of ice that covers the doors, the thuds of little brainwashed bodies throwing themselves futilely at it in an attempt to rescue their beloved Matron.

"This is seriously fucked up," Mick says, glancing over the same way.

"No kidding," Sara says. She looks over at the Matron, who's gone stonily silent. "Can't you call them off? For their sake?"

"Her loyalty is to her kids," Len says piously, then sneers. "At least until it's inconvenient, that is."

"How dare you," the Matron snaps, aggravated out of her silence at last.

"You feed your kids baked goods that brainwash them," Len snaps back. "Doesn't sound all too loyal to me."

"My children need it," she says stiffly.

"Trust me, as someone who's been there? No one 'needs' brainwashing," Sara says. "How could you? They trust you!"

"It's to keep off the effects of temporal drift," the Matron says.

"Temporal drift?" Kendra asks, looking up again.

"When a person is removed from their time period for too long, they begin to detach emotionally from their surroundings," the Matron says. "They lose the ability to form real connections and with it, their ability to objectively judge a situation."

"So they turn into sociopaths?" Sara says. "Sounds like that would help being 'objective' in the face of suffering."

"Don't be absurd," the Matron says cuttingly. "Yes, temporal drift cuts off an individual's ability to properly evaluate risk or to empathize with others, but we don't permit it to happen: it can be staved off by surrounded people with others that hail from a similar era, or if a person slowly becomes accustomed to the effects of the drift."

"So that's why Rip picked all of us up from the same year," Kendra says. "I'd wondered."

"The medicine in the biscuits and tarts –" the Matron starts.

"Brainwashing drugs," Sara says, holding up a hand. "Call it what it really is. They used to call it loyalty tea in the League; that didn't make it any better."

"The drugs, then. They are designed to make it easier for the children to adapt to temporal drift in a peaceful manner," the Matron says. "It encourages certain bonds –"

"Bonds to the Time Masters' goals, I bet," Len interjects. "And to you. But not so much to each other, huh?"

"Those kids we saw earlier weren't friends," Mick agrees. "They barely remembered how to play with other kids."

The Matron is stiff-lipped, but Len thinks he detects the slightest bit of guilt in her eyes.

"We taught them a few games," Len says. "Took 'em a while, but they were finally laughing – really laughing, ugly laughing, not that freaky picture-perfect commercial bullcrap they were doing earlier."

The Matron's face twists into an expression of wistfulness and hope, just for a second, before she regains control.

"You really love them," Sara says, sounding surprised. She'd seen it, too.

"Of course I do," the Matron says. Her back is as stiff as a board, and her jaw is clenched, but Len doesn't doubt that she's telling the truth as she understands it. "I raised them. All of them. They're my children. And whatever they choose to do with their lives later, they are always my children here, forever."

"That's creepy," Kendra says. "People should grow up. They shouldn't – they shouldn't linger forever. It's not right." She makes a face. "Trust me."

"You're hurting 'em," Len reminds the Matron. "And you're hurting what's out in the forest past the garden, too."

She looks away. The other Legends look curious, but keep quiet about it.

"Has the forest always been there?" Len asks, keeping his eyes fixed on her. "Were you here from the beginning?" He pauses. "Was it an accident, or..?"

"Even if what you say is correct," the Matron says, "and I don't believe that it is, it was obviously an accident."

"Was it?" Len asks, glancing up at the invisible Franz.

"Certainly," the Matron says haughtily.

Franz won't meet Len's eyes.

"Are you sure?" Len presses.

He ignores the Matron's blustering response, more interested in the guilt on Franz's face.

"Why would they keep it trapped deliberately?" Len asks, cutting the Matron off, his eyes fixed on Franz. "Let's assume they did, huh? What would the reason be?"

"There is no reason!" the Matron exclaims. "That's what I'm telling you, that there is no purpose for such an act - we're not monsters, whatever you may think - and therefore in the unlikely event that you are not lying about the contamination –"

"They needed anchors for the Vanishing Point," Franz whispers, barely audible over the Matron's desperate attempts to justify what happened. "To hold it down. I saw the markers. They were Time Master work."

"Markers?" Mick murmurs.

"Mechanical guideposts. They help keep the Vanishing Point steady."

Len glances at Mick, who nods and gets up silently. He'll go find them and bring them back as proof, and check on Jax and Stein in the meantime.

After all, he isn't stopped by ice doors, or dead-eyed children, or even walls.

"– that it’s an accident doesn't matter," Kendra is saying fiercely to the Matron. "We all make choices. That's what you're supposed to teach someone, if you're raising them. If you know someone is in pain – if you even suspect it – and you can do something about it, you have to do something about it. It's your duty as a human being. Choosing to do nothing is still a choice!"

"My first duty is to care for the children," the Matron protests.

"The children that are currently hurting themselves trying to get in here to rescue you?" Sara asks. "Damnit, Matron, we won't hurt them if you make them stop, and we're not hurting you, so letting them keep this up is doing no-one any good."

"If you don't want to hurt them, you need to let them go," Len says.

The Matron glares at him. "I have no choice," she grinds out through her teeth. "I cannot 'let them go', as you say. If the children are found to be unfit, they are sent home to god-knows-what fate, and if they are fit, then they become Time Masters and to do anything else would be to invite paradox and destroy the timeline. I can only do my best for them while they are here –"

"The best is never going to be knocking themselves into a wall of ice," Sara snaps. "They have to be free, damnit – free to live their lives and make other choices -"

"Sara," Len says. "It's not that easy."

"Snart!"

"The one in the garden we have to free, because it's hurting people and hurting itself," Len says. He doesn't want to meet Sara's furious gaze for what he's going to say next. "The others ain't so easy. She's probably right about paradox."

"They're children and they're being brainwashed! I don't see how that isn't enough for you!"

“‘Michael’ is here, ain't he?" Len asks the Matron, who hesitates. "Well? Tell us the truth."

She nods.

"Michael – wait, as in Rip?" Kendra exclaims.

"Wait, he's here right now?" Sara asks, and Len can see in her eyes that she's starting to understand the problem.

"If Rip never grows up to be a Time Master, we never go on this mission –" That doesn't sound so bad at the moment. "– and we end up in a recursive time loop."

"Time will eventually fix itself," the Matron says grudgingly. "It'll rip holes in itself to do so, but eventually, it'll be fixed. Usually for the worse."

"So, what, we just have to let it happen?" Sara asks, scowling. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Sometimes, there's nothing you can do," Kendra says. She looks down at Ray. "I don't want to leave them like this, and I agree with you that it's morally reprehensible, but what can we do about it? Hurt more people? Destroy the timeline, the way we risked doing when we tried to save the younger version of Mick?"

"At least we'll be doing some good before we leave," Len tells Sara, though her expression indicates that it's not helpful. "When we find that key – "

"You cannot restart time," the Matron says quickly, trying to capitalize on her momentum. "If you do, the consequences – "

"This is an injustice that has been going on for too long," Len says sharply. "I'm willing to be flexible about avoiding paradox with the kids, because I really do think that the adult Time Masters won't hesitate to throw some of their colleagues' younger selves back to die, but you've given me no reason to think that letting someone you’ve driven insane go would be an issue."

"Our defenses – "

"You're in the middle of Siberia and we need to turn them off for a minute, max," Len says. "What in the world are you afraid of?"

The Matron is silent.

"Do you even know?"

The Matron is silent.

Everyone's silent, actually; Sara and Kendra brooding over the moral issue, Mick on assignment, the Matron sunk into her own thoughts –

Actually, now that Len thinks of it, it's too quiet. He's not sure when was the last time he heard the children banging at the door.

"Where'd the kids go?" Len asks, twisting to stare at the eerily silent doorway.

Sara frowns. "I haven't heard them for a while, actually. Damnit, Matron, what have you done now..." She trails off. The Matron has gone white. "What is it?"

"They shouldn't have stopped," the Matron says, her eyes fixed on the iced-over door. "They're my children; they wouldn't abandon me – what happened to them? What happened to my children?"

"Try it on someone who doesn't know about the brainwashing," Sara snaps. Len's feeling a mite sympathetic himself, though: he also wants to know what's happened to the kids.

"What have your people done?" the Matron demands.

"We've been sitting here the entire time," Len points out, quite reasonably.

"Yes, well – wait. Where is the other one? The big one, with the burns?"

Oh, lovely. Now she notices that Mick has gone.

"You planning an ambush?" Len asks instead, levering himself up. "If I go out to check on the kids and they jump me, I'm gonna have to shoot, and that'll be worse for everyone."

"It's nothing of my doing," the Matron says. "I swear it. Please, the children – "

Len is such a goddamn sap.

Sara rises as well and comes over to him as he studies the iced over door.

"Can't you send someone else?" Sara asks, sotto voce. "One of your – " she wiggles her fingers, apparently indicating ghost.

"There are almost none here," Len says honestly, voice also low. "Franz – he used to be the gardener – doesn't want to leave the Matron, and he's the only one I've seen beyond the one in the forest."

"She said the thing you encountered in the forest killed people – "

"By accident."

"Not the point. If they got killed, and no one can move on, where are they?"

Len frowns. "Good point."

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Problem for later," Len decides. "Doesn't change the fact that we need to figure out what happened to the killer kiddies, preferably without being ambushed."

Sara snorts. "Good luck with that."

Len finds the break point in the ice and shatters it with a single blow from his gun, then rears back, gun at ready, anticipating an attack.

Nothing.

Okay.

Len creeps out to the hallway, gun at ready. The kids are –

The kids are fast asleep. Big, medium, small, teenagers to toddlers, they're all curled up on the ground like they all collectively decided to go naptime.

"What the fuck?" Len asks.

Sara pokes her head out. "Uh, yeah. Seriously, what?"

"What happened?" the Matron calls.

"They're all unconscious," Sara says.

"Asleep," Len corrects. "Look at the way they're lying."

"You're right," she replies. "Like they laid down of their own free will. That discounts most knock-out gases..."

"Let me see!" the Matron cries.

Sara pulls her head back into the room, only to re-emerge a second later with a still-bound Matron leaning against her.

"What did this?" the Matron asks, seeming honestly aghast.

"Time Masters," Mick's deep voice replies from the door.

Len turns with a smile that only gets broader when he sees Jax and Stein behind Mick, looking fine and safe and healthy. He's so happy to see them he's not even going to yell at them for not answering their goddamn comm units when he called. "You figured out a way to stop the kids?"

"Nope," Mick says. "It's a built in failsafe if you try to mess with the time of this place." He holds out a small device, like a remote control with mechanical spider legs. "It's got a frequency tied to the babelfish devices – it’s just lucky that the Waverider’s are on a different frequency, or we’d have a problem. Luckily, it's a sleep order, not a kill order."

"A kill order?" the Matron asks, looking shocked.

"You were right," Mick says to Len, ignoring her. "The angel wasn't stuck here by accident when they built this place."

"What?" the Matron asks.

"Angel?" Sara asks.

"The whole point of this place is to keep it here," Mick continues. "Us talking with it triggered the markers to be activated in case we tried anything, and just as we were doing that, Jax and Stein accidentally came across one and it shocked 'em as a defense mechanism. Feisty little things, like little robots. They tried to disable the ship, though we stopped that."

"I didn't know about those defenses," the Matron murmurs. She sounds shocked.

"As far as I can tell – and it's mostly just guessing – but I don't think it's entirely one-sided, with this place anchoring the Vanishing Point. I think whatever system the Time Masters built at the Vanishing Point, it has side effects here."

"No passing on for the angel," Len says. "And no ghosts of the rest."

"Even Franz is vanishing off – somewhere," Mick confirms. "Look at how weak he is compared to how much he regrets. I've got no idea why, but this place is designed to suck up power. I'd bet they tried it all over and this was one of the few that worked – "

"Because the angel had enough power," Len says, frowning as his concern grows. "But, Mick, the angel is a ghost –"

"Are they using code words?" the Matron asks Sara, who ignores her.

"— then the only way anyone can force a ghost to give power is by mediums. Or necromancy, I guess."

"Yeah," Mick says. He's frowning, too.

"The Time Masters are attempting necromancy?"

"Medium-style necromancy, if I had to guess," Mick says. "Explains what they'd want with Savage – he's probably the oldest medium alive. Knows all the tricks."

"Necromancy," the Matron says. "You think the Time Masters – with my children? Their former selves, or at least some of them?"

"Your children are the cover," Jax says. "We found these markers all over the forest, and less so near the house. And when they activated, they knocked out all the kids."

"We suspect they may have sent an alarm to the Vanishing Point as well," Stein says.

"Untie me," the Matron demands.

"Uh, how about no?" Kendra says.

"Untie me, and I'll answer their call and tell them nothing is the matter," the Matron says impatiently. "It will buy more time to figure out what is going on."

"And if you betray us?" Sara asks.

"Then they will come one way or the other."

"Why are you suddenly willing to help?" Len asks, suspicious.

"Because," the Matron says, her lips pressed together, "I was always informed that there was no way to set up an alarm from here, no matter the threat to the children, because the frequency was unavailable. I always assumed that meant it could not be accessed, not – not that it was already in use. I don’t want to believe that they care more about this – this angel or whatever it is than the well-being of my children, but…well. I suppose we’ll see."

They all look at each other.

"Fine," Sara says, and unties her. "If you sell us out, I'll make sure you stay alive to see what happens when the Time Masters attack this place with all its sleeping kids."

"Would they do that?" Kendra asks. "If these are themselves –"

"I doubt this is the only place they have like this," Sara says. "Don't put all your eggs in one basket, that sort of thing. They might be willing to risk damage to some of their younger selves if they think the Vanishing Point is important enough."

"They do," the Matron says. "It's not just a base for them. It has religious importance."

"Great," Kendra says. "Religion. That's not going to be a problem, I'm sure."

An alarm rings. One of the picture frames flickers into a call waiting symbol.

The Matron pats her hair into place and goes to answer it. The face of a middle-aged man in what look like monk robes appears; he looks like the one that attacked Rip in the forest with the Hunters, Rip's old mentor. "Why hello, Andrew!" she says. "What brings you here?"

"Hello, Matron," the Time Master says. "And please. It's Druce."

"Certainly, Andrew. Whatever is the matter?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing – do you happen to have guests?"

"No," the Matron says. "Though we did have some that just departed – rather abruptly, I'd say – and the children here have fallen asleep rather suddenly. Would you like to come look at them? I'm a little concerned –"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Matron," the Time Master says. "Not there anymore, you're certain?"

"Now, Andrew, really," the Matron says admonishingly.

"Yes, of course," the Time Master replies absently, clearly already thinking of other things. "No matter, then – perhaps we'll talk more later, Matron; I'm afraid I have some sensitive matters to attend to..."

The screen cuts off.

The Matron's face twists a little. "Well," she says, then shakes her head, her lips pressed together tightly. "That's that, I suppose."

"Not quite," Len says. "We still need the key to restart time here. Do you know how to do that?"

"They haven't kept everything from me," she says briskly. "You should pack up and be ready to go. Once I deactivate the shields, the alarms will undoubtedly go off."

Franz puts a hand on her shoulder and shoots Len a longing look.

Len pushes a bit of life towards him, just enough for an apparition – audiovisual spectrum, but no poltergeist powers. He's done trusting in the good intentions of, well, anyone in this place, ghost or not.

It's harder than it usually is for something so minor. Mick's not wrong about this place draining power.

The Matron jumps when the hand on her shoulder becomes visible. She turns, mouth pressed together, then stops.

Absolutely stops.

The Matron, who has mastered herself through every situation so far, resisting or concerned or simply steadfast, just stops, her eyes wide, her mouth agape, her hands dropped out of their fists.

"Franz?" she whispers.

"You're doing the right thing," he says.

"It killed you," she says.

"No, Mary," he says. "It didn't. I got tired of seeing it there in the forest beyond the garden, always at the corner of my eye, something not so much seen as felt. And I tried to let it go."

"It's true, then?" she asks, her voice breaking a little. "You died –"

"I died unbowed and unafraid," Franz tells her. "I stayed to watch over you, in hope that one day you would feel the same."

She swipes at her eyes. "How do I know this isn't a trick?" she asks, glancing over at Len.

Len considers pointing out that he would still have to get his information from somewhere, but decides against it. Snark wouldn't help right now. Privacy, on the other hand...

He turns away from them to let Franz convey whatever he feels he needs to in order to convince her of the truth. "Jax – can we fly?"

"Yeah, Waverider's okay," Jax says. "Did most of the repairs Rip wanted; even fixed some of the new stuff. We haven't managed to do some of the fancier stuff he'd been hoping for, but –"

"We don't need fancy," Sara says. "We need out."

A few minutes into their conversation, the Matron marches over.

"How would you like to do this?" she asks, her eyes steely again. This time, though, the anger's not directed at the invaders, but at the people who brought her children into contact with so terrible a danger - and on purpose, no less.

Loyalty first to the children, it seems, really is her watchword.

Who'd have thought?

"I'll stay," Mick says, glancing at Len, who nods. It's the only thing that makes sense. "You turn it off, I confirm it."

"You'll need to fly out of here virtually immediately after the key turns and the freezing of time goes," she says. "I've always been warned against doing it, but I suspect the consequences have been somewhat oversold. But if there was an alarm simply for contacting your angel, then there will most certainly be one for the key. The Time Masters will come in force."

"We'll be ready to fly," Kendra says. "Sara, do you think..?"

"I can manage with Gideon's help," Sara says. "I've been watching Rip."

"Speaking of..." Kendra says, looking at the Matron.

"The effect will wear off as soon as you're in the timestream," the Matron says. "Your AI should be able to confirm when the drugs are out of their systems."

"Good," Kendra says, turning to go carry Ray back to the ship. Sara goes with her to help drag Rip along.

"Good luck," Len tells the Matron, and also Franz, who's looking increasingly peaceful. He's seen what he hoped to see – Mick wasn't wrong about his slow degradation as a ghost, but if the Matron lowers the shields now, he'll be able to pass on instead of whatever else is going on.

"Are you sure your friend will be able to make it to your ship in time?" the Matron asks Len, nodding at Mick.

Len hates it when people talk over Mick's head. They're usually assuming that he's a dumb thug with nothing to contribute and a blind loyalty to Len's orders, no matter what, and that's just such utter crap.

"I only mention it because they will attempt to capture any one of you that they can," she continues. "And if you thought the drugs I used were problematic, my dear, you will be even more put out at the way they, ah, process their captives."

"Torture," Len translates. "And brainwashing."

She nods. "Time Pirates often become bounty hunters, once they've been captured. Given time – and the Time Masters have all of that they could possibly need."

No wonder the Stormtroopers Three didn't have ghosts. They were relieved to be free at last.

Disgusting.

"Your system of justifications to explain to yourself how you work for people that do that must be amazing," Len says dryly and entirely without sympathy. Why is he not surprised that at the end of the day, protestations of loyalty aside, she's little more than a collaborator? Albeit one finally pushed too far. "Mick will be fine."

They return to the ship.

"You sure we can take off?" Sara asks, glancing at Len. "With Mick..?"

"He's a ghost," Len reminds her. "He can float and go through walls. He'll catch up."

She nods and takes off. "Gideon," she says. "Prep for jump."

"Yes, Miss Lance," Gideon says, then, after a moment, adds, "We are now ready."

They wait.

They don't have to wait long.

Something changes in the place, a feeling almost like something ripples through the air. The whole building flickers – suddenly, for just a moment, the entire building is in even better shape then before, then only decent, then bad, then failing and falling to pieces, and then suddenly it's good again – and the grounds cycle abruptly through the seasons, a flash of each, snow heavy on the ground a heartbeat before the spring and summer race by.

That's not what Len's waiting for.

And then it happens.

Some great presence, indefinable, moves over them in a burst of light that is filled with joy, singing a song of praise in the simplest of numbers, the light filling their eyes and ears, the faintest feeling of a brush of feathers on their faces, before it fades.

Passes on.

Everyone's eyes are wet.

"Sara," Len says, forcing the words out. "Now."

She nods and reaches for the controls.

As she does, Len reaches out and calls, with all the force of his life, all his power, "Mick!"

And Mick is there beside him.

They make the jump into the time stream moments before the first of the Time Masters' ships arrive.

"Take us somewhere we can hide," Kendra says, and unbuckles herself. "I'm going to check on Ray and Rip."

Len reaches out to Mick and catches his arm, squeezing lightly. He doesn't know what he would've done if Mick hadn't been able to come so fast.

Luckily, he doesn't need to wonder.

Mick smiles at him.

Len smiles back and goes after Kendra to check on their teammates in med bay. Sara follows a second later, setting the piloting on auto and leaving Jax to keep an eye on it.

They're just blinking awake, green lights signaling full health above their heads.

"Oh, Ray," Kendra says tearfully, and throws herself at him. The shade at her feet hums contentedly.

Rip is frowning. "Mr. Snart, Miss Lance," he says, looking at them. "Have I – missed something?"

Len looks at Sara. Sara looks at Len.

“Yeah, not it,” Len says, and turns on his heel.

“Coward!” Sara shouts at his retreating back.

But she sounds amused.

[artemisrae]

Stranger Things - A Wonderful, Awful Idea

Title: A Wonderful, Awful Idea

Rating: T

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Mike/Eleven, plus the rest of the gang (and the Wheeler siblings too I guess)

Word Count: 5,777

Summary:

Then he got an idea. An awful idea. The Grinch got a wonderful, awful idea! - How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Mike wants to recapture the Christmas magic of his childhood, but mostly he accidentally makes his girlfriend cry.

Note: Christmas fic!!!!!! Silly lovey Christmas fic where everyone is pretty much happy and Mike is very much a teenage boy. No spoilers for the show, but spoilers for Christmas cartoon specials from the 50s and 60s.

AO3 Mirror

Frosty was the one that, in hindsight, he could concede was probably not a good idea.

He had been too enthusiastic. It was the first Christmas after Hopper’s year of exile - meant to make sure that El was no longer being hunted, the Wheelers were no longer being monitored, that Hopper was no longer being followed - and Mike Wheeler, nearly giddy from the high of having lunch with El every day, and being able to hang out after school and work on homework together, and make plans for the weekends, was a one-man army to make sure that El was never made to feel like she had missed out ever again.

If Mike was an army, then Dustin was his general. During their study hall they would meet and brainstorm, trying to remember every precious childhood memory, anything that could recapture that spirit for El. They discussed everything from popcorn garland for the Christmas tree to waiting up for Santa on Christmas Eve, surprising each other with Christmas traditions that the other hadn’t known about and reminiscing about fun times that had involved the party.

“Caroling?” Dustin asked, and Mike made a face.

“Do you want to sing? I don’t want to sing.” Mike thought about it. El liked music, and it was easier to engage her in a new experience if it involved music, but she hated being cold. “Maybe we can go to the park when they do the candlelight service if it’s not freezing out. There’s always a choir there, she’ll like that.”

“Build a snowman?”

Mike made a face. He wasn’t sure how long she’d tolerate that. “If it even snows during Christmas break… sometimes it doesn’t, and it’s not always enough to even make a snowman. Besides, that’s not really Christmas, that’s something you do when you get a snow day from school.”

“It can be both,” Dustin argued. “Snowmen are part of traditional Christmas decorations.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to rely on the weather doing us any favors. I want El to have the best Christmas ever. She’s got 14 years of shitty ones to make up for.” Mike doodled in the margin of his notebook. “Plus she keeps saying she doesn’t want school to go on break, because she likes it, and I keep trying to tell her that Christmas break is, like, the answer to our prayers, not a punishment.”

“We still have so much to teach her,” Dustin intoned dryly, reaching into his backpack. “Which reminds me - I remembered the TV Guide.”

“Yes!” Mike practically lunged across the table to snatch it out of Dustin’s hand.

“Be careful with that!” Dustin protested. “My mom will kill me if anything happens to it.”

“Tell me about it. I think my dad wants his in his coffin with him.” Mike rolled his eyes as he remembered the reason he’d needed Dustin’s copy in the first place. He flipped through the pages, eyes scanning. “I’m just hoping none of them are on Wednesdays, Wednesdays she stays late for English tutoring and Hopper always takes her to the diner afterwards.”

He glanced up from the TV Guide to find that Dustin was staring at him, with a weird, unreadable look on his face.

“What?” he asked irritably. That had been happening more and more often - it used to be only when El was around, that he could look at any one of his friends and see them watching with that strange, muted expression. Lately it had been happening when he was alone too, usually when he was talking about El.

“Nothing,” Dustin said quickly. He looked down at his Snack-Pack, and then a teasing grin wormed across his face. “Do you have a Christmas present for her yet?”

“None of your business,” Mike snapped.

“So that’s a no,” Dustin countered. “I was just asking, geez. You know, I can ask Steve for help if you need it.”

“I really don’t want to know what kind of presents Steve Harrington used to buy for my sister,” Mike said stiffly. His eyes caught a listing. “Look, Frosty the Snowman is on next week. Holly loves that one. If I say she can watch with me and El that’ll make my mom happy.”

And his mom had been happy. Despite the fact that it was right after dinner she’d made them a giant bowl of popcorn, and hot chocolate - actual hot chocolate heated up and melted on the stove, not the instant kind, because Mike had impressed upon her how important this was to him even if Karen Wheeler still hadn’t gotten a straight answer on how El had somehow missed 14 years of Christmases.

All three of them had sat on the floor, huddled under a crocheted blanket, Holly cradling the massive bowl of popcorn.

“Santa is bringing me a Barbie sleeping bag,” she told El, licking oil off her fingers and sticking them right back into the bowl. “Mom took me to the mall yesterday and I got to tell him and he said I’d been good this year, so that means he’s going to bring me one.”

El glanced at Mike over her head. He gave her an encouraging smile. They’d talked about Santa - with no way to explain why he’d skipped over her for ten years in Hawkins lab, Mike had been forced to explain that it was a myth, thus depriving her of some of the Christmas magic he’d been trying to recreate, but he’d also told her that Holly very much believed he was real, and that it was important not to spoil it for her.

It was obviously hard for her to reconcile “Friends don’t lie” with “Friends let their friend’s little sister continue believing in the myth of Santa” but El was making a good show of it, nodding attentively and letting Holly chatter mindlessly.

Nevertheless, it was a relief when Holly realized that El had never seen Frosty before, and thus transitioned from talking about everything Santa was going to bring her (which consisted of pretty much every toy advertised during the commercials) to explaining the plot of Frosty to El, even as they were watching it.

“Holly,” Mike finally interrupted. “Let her watch. If she has any questions, she’ll ask you, right El?”

El quickly nodded. Her hair had grown longer in the last year, having only been trimmed a couple times by Joyce, and now the curls that had formed went past her shoulders. She favored pretty bows and headbands to keep her face clear. Tonight, paired with her jeans and a plain gray sweatshirt, she was wearing a pink bow with white polka dots, and Mike had been resisting the urge to yank on it the entire evening.

She wouldn’t be mad at him if he did it though. He could already picture the look she’d shoot him - chagrined and exasperated, but not angry - and then when she tried to fix it he could help her.

He was contemplating the best way to accomplish this - was there any possible way to get rid of Holly without her crying? - when Santa arrived to the greenhouse, and discovered that Frosty had melted into a puddle.

El gasped. Holly patted her hand - “He’ll come back just watch -”

But it was too late. El had burst into tears at the sight of young cartoon Karen crying over the puddle that was formerly Frosty. Mike practically upended the bowl of popcorn reaching for her. “El, it’s okay, it’s okay! Holly’s right, he comes back!”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gesturing to the TV. She was sobbing as Frosty the Snowman played cheerfully over a montage that Mike realized was ultimately a eulogy for Frosty. To his dawning horror, Holly’s lower lip began to tremble too.

“Holly,” Mike said desperately. “You know it’s fine. It turns out fine. Frosty goes to the North Pole with Santa, remember? They see him every year.”

“He’s not the same!” El cried. “And they only get to see him once a year!”

“Is everything okay in there?” his mother called from the doorway.

Their backs were to her; Mike pulled El closer, letting her press her face into his neck, and snapped in a way that only people who did not want to explain why everything was not fine could accomplish: “Everything is fine!”

“Is Holly crying?” his mom asked, stepping into the room. Holly jumped up, tripping over the blanket to go cry on her mother’s hip. “What on earth did you say to her Michael?”

“Nothing!” Mike shouted. “El’s never seen it before. She didn’t know Frosty melted. Holly did, so she has no reason to be crying.”

“Michael what have I told you about upsetting your sister?”

“I didn’t upset her!” Mike responded hotly. “Frosty did! Can you just give me a minute with El please?”

“We will talk about this later Michael,” Karen promised, but then she did, blessedly, retreat - mostly, Mike knew, to tend to Holly. He didn’t really care if it got him a minute alone with El.

“I’m really sorry,” Mike told El. He lunged for the box of tissues on the side table, offering them to her. “I never thought it was sad. When I was a kid I was just so happy he made it to the North Pole, ya know?”

“I’m sorry,” El said softly, her cheeks coloring. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

“No, no! Please don’t,” Mike insisted. It made total sense to him that someone like El - someone who had fought tooth and nail to come back to her friends and family - would find Frosty so upsetting. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about it. I should have known.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “At least,” he finally said, “it’s only on once a year.”

He was rewarded with her soft laugh, and that, Mike decided, was a victory, considering how the evening had turned out.

(Of course, that was before Hopper picked her up and saw she’d been crying.)

***

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer went better - but that was only because Frosty the Snowman had set the bar so impossibly low.

The evening before it aired, Nancy had finished her finals and come home from Bloomington. The house was tense - she’d really only come home to see Jonathan Byers, who was home from New York for Christmas, and Mike wondered if his parents could tell. She’d stayed for dinner, and to Mike’s eternal frustration, had slipped from the house before he could corner her alone.

He stayed up to talk to her; it was after midnight when she got back to the house, tiptoeing even though he was sure that his parents were awake too.

Sticking his hand in the door just before it clicked shut, he managed to slip in behind her.

“Jesus Christ, what did you and Jonathan do?!” he asked, taking in her rumpled appearance. Her belt was missing, the top three buttons of her blouse were undone, and somehow even her newly acquired rebellious pixie haircut was sticking up in all directions.

She gave him a crooked smile. “Nothing you want to hear about. Or that I’d want to tell you about.”

They had a brief stand off, sizing each other up. They never talked when she was at school - Bloomington was a long distance phone call, and neither one of them was a letter writer. Mike finally shrugged at her. “I’m glad you came home.”

Her mouth twisted. “I wanted to see you and Holly and my friends,” she conceded, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“And Jonathan,” Mike couldn’t resist prompting.

Instead of rebuking him though, Nancy smiled. “And Jonathan.”

“So speaking of…” he leaned back against the door, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. “Since you’re home anyway, I thought maybe you could help me with something?”

Nancy looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Then her eyes narrowed, and her forehead wrinkled in thought.

“You don’t have a Christmas gift for El,” she decided, and Mike’s mouth dropped open.

“How the fuck could you know that?” he demanded, and Nancy gave him a condescending smirk that used to infuriate his prepubescent self.

“Mike.” Her tone was lilting, and patronizing. “You do whatever the hell you want. I’ve heard stories. The only reason you’d ask for my help is if it’s about El because she’s pretty much the only person whose opinion you care about.”

“That’s not true!” he argued, genuinely surprised at her words - he had friends; he cared what Lucas and Dustin and Will all thought.

“Mike,” she said flatly. “You DM the majority of your games just because you like to plan whatever you want for your little campaigns.”

“Okay, so, if you knew anything about being a good DM you would know that you have exactly no control over the story,” Mike said, completely distracted from the point as his mind raced to formulate a list of examples that would prove her wrong.

She got up from the bed, shaking her head at him. “It doesn’t matter. It’s fine, I’ll help you find a gift for El. She deserves a nice gift from her boyfriend.

“Yes, she does. Thank you.” He felt relieved. He’d already been worried when Dustin had asked the previous week, and hadn’t made any headway even though he’d wracked his brains trying to come up with something perfect. “She’s coming over tomorrow, maybe you can talk to her?”

She took him by the elbow and reached for the doorknob. Despite his height, she could still manhandle him as if they were little kids. “Tomorrow, yes. But now,” she said, putting him back out in the hallway, “I want you to get out of my room.”

Then she shut the door in his face.

Rudolph started off better than Frosty - Mike had played the song for her, and warned her, “It’s a good show, but they’re kind of mean to him. But it turns out okay, because they end up loving him. But don’t get upset when they’re mean to him, okay?”

And she hadn’t - he’d looked over during the scene with Clarisse and the flying lessons and while she certainly didn’t look happy, with her eyebrows drawn low and laser focused intensity on the television, she didn’t appear upset like she had when Frosty had melted.

His hand crept into hers, and while she didn’t spare him a glance he saw her face relax a little.

He had really thought about Rudolph, describing it to her as they strung tinsil on Hopper’s tree (it was pointless to help decorate his own - his mom would just rearrange all the ornaments and fix it the way she liked it anyway) and he felt pretty confident with this one. It was a classic; she would like Yukon Cornelius, and most importantly, nobody melted or otherwise died.

Where he had miscalculated had been the Island of the Misfit Toys.

Even Holly got quiet as the toys sang about how they were broken and didn’t fit in, how they’d miss all the fun with the boys and girls because they weren’t wanted. Mike realized that El’s hand had gotten uncomfortably tight.

His heart sank as he saw the look on her face - she was wearing what he called her Bambi face (and there was another movie he could never show her), with a blank expression and big doe eyes. She pulled it when she was trying to lie (often unsuccessfully) or otherwise didn’t want undue attention.

The tears streaming down her cheeks kind of ruined the effect, however.

“El,” he said in a low tone, giving her hand a little jiggle. She turned to look at him, gave him a pained frown, and he felt a stab in his heart. “It turns out okay. They all get to good homes. I promise, I wouldn’t show you something -”

Something that glorified people who were ostracized for being different. He knew she constantly felt pressure at school, already singled out for being the weird girl who was homeschooled until high school, and then to be behind in English on top of that. Sometimes he thought that it was mostly in her imagination - but he’d already had two detentions this year for punching people who’d called her weird.

“I just - I promise,” he finished lamely. He reached for the box of tissues again.

Strike two Wheeler, he thought. He heard it in Hopper’s voice.

***

At least she got through Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. El couldn’t make it the whole way through the Charlie Brown Christmas special.

The weekend before the entire group had descended upon the Sinclair’s - a rare event, but the Sinclair’s were the only ones with a fireplace, and Mike had wanted to show El the joy of sitting in front of a roaring fire and making s’mores.

They probably could have asked Jonathan to help them set up a fire pit at the Byers’, but the fact was that El hated being cold, and had already spent enough time huddling in front of crappy little camp fires. While Mike thought El (and her sweet tooth) would love gooey s’mores, he didn’t think she’d like the part where she had to sit outside in the cold and make them.

Instead Mr. Sinclair built them a fire - and much like Karen Wheeler, never got a good explanation for how El had missed out on s’mores her entire life - and the six of them crammed around, marshmallows speared on pokers (with reluctant promises to share with Erika, even if she wasn’t allowed in the room to bug them.)

“It feels like lying,” El was saying to the group, and Mike, exasperated, threw his hands up.

“She’s five. It would be so mean to tell her Santa isn’t real.”

“Not to mention your mom would kill you,” Dustin added.

“I mean, I didn’t lie to Erika when she asked me,” Lucas said, taking a melted marshmallow from Max and smushing it onto a graham cracker. “But I didn’t go out of my way to tell her the truth either.”

“And your mom still almost killed you,” Dustin reminded him. “Am I the only one who remembers you being grounded that entire Christmas break?”

“Holly’s cute though,” Max said. She had a hand under her s’more, trying to prevent the melted chocolate from dripping onto the blankets underneath them. “Erika is… not.”

“I think you mean,” Lucas supplied, “that she’s a goblin that they replaced my real sister with.”

El snorted, and choked on her bite. Spraying crumbs everywhere, she laughed and coughed while Mike patted her on the back and Dustin scrambled to save her marshmallow from the fire.

“Look, Nancy didn’t spoil it for me when she learned the truth. It’s not fair to do that to Holly.” El shot him a look, and he quickly added, “I know party rules, but Holly isn’t in the party.”

“Jonathan told me,” Will piped up with a shrug.

Nobody laughed at that. Mike shifted uncomfortably. Will wasn’t referring to a funny story. He remembered when this had happened.

“Why?” El finally asked, surely unable to imagine gentle Jonathan, who loved Will more than anybody else on earth, ever being cruel to him, even in the name of sibling rivalry.

Will shrugged again. “It was right after my dad left. He was really mad a lot of the time. He got a detention right before Christmas break and when I told him Santa would put him on the naughty list he told me Santa wasn’t even real. Mom told me he was lying because he was mad about being on the naughty list, but I knew he was telling the truth.”

Max, to the surprise of no one, was quiet. If her and Billy had ever talked about Santa, or Christmas, it would have been in the interest of putting her down, or making her miserable, and they all knew it.

Silence fell. Lucas leaned into Max’s shoulder, and she leaned back against him. They would have held hands, Mike suspected, if they didn’t need both of them to deal with the messy snacks.

Then, without even trying, his eyes tracked El’s hands - she brought her right hand to her lips, scraping chocolate off the pad of her thumb. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

When she noticed him watching, she gave him a sunny grin. There was a streak of marshmallow at the corner of her mouth.

The others started to fade away. He wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed like it was just the two of them in the room - and then Max dropped her poker, cursing as she smeared melted marshmallow against the blanket.

Lucas scrambled to help her - “Don’t touch it, it’s hot!” - but Will and Dustin, Mike saw, were both watching him with that same curious expression that Dustin had worn the other day at lunch.

“What is it?” Mike asked them. El hadn’t seem to notice their scrutiny. She was holding her hands delicately away from her body, sticky fingers searching for one of the napkins that were strewn about.

“Nothing,” Dustin demurred yet again. Will just shrugged. Mike got the sense that they were telling the truth. They didn’t seem to have words for whatever was capturing their attention.

“Hey,” El said, tugging on his sleeve. Her fingers stuck to the material, leaving tacky fingerprints behind. “Hopper says you can come over Thursday. To watch Charlie Brown.”

More like Hopper had insisted that they watch Charlie Brown at his place because he’d noticed that El had come home crying twice already.

A smirk crossed Dustin’s face, and Mike shot him a warning glare. Mike had told him about their previous attempts at watching Christmas specials, but had pointed out that if they tried to make fun of him then El would surely think they were making fun of her for crying.

It wouldn’t matter if they tried to explain that they weren’t laughing at her. El had noticed that the boys and Max didn’t express their emotions the same way she did - cooped up in Hawkins lab the only way to express anything she was feeling strongly was to explode. Now she worried about it, no matter how much Mike and Will (the only person she confided in as much as Mike) had tried to reassure her.

He understood, and could help her cope with distress - but he was completely taken aback by her anger at the Charlie Brown Christmas special.

It had started out so promising too. He’d told her how Charlie Brown had always been his favorite, and unsurprisingly, she had loved the music, even trying to impersonate the kids dancing and making both of them laugh until they couldn’t breathe. Upbeat, peppy music helped her feel at ease, and Mike had suspected that the jazzy soundtrack to Charlie Brown would appeal to her.

And then Charlie Brown had brought his little Christmas tree back to his friends, and the montage of Charlie Brown’s friends berating him - telling him he was stupid, saying he had picked a bad tree, calling him hopeless - stopped the evening on a dime.

Suddenly the television turned off with an electronic squeal. Mike blinked at the still glowing screen, initially thinking that there had been some kind of power failure - but no, all the other lights were still on, even the lights on the little Christmas tree in the corner.

Then he saw the look on El’s face - jaw set, eyes blazing - and knew that she had turned the television off. She hadn’t even bothered reaching for the remote. She looked like she was ready to go ten rounds with the demogorgon.

“Uh…” His mouth was open. He absolutely did not want her rage turned on him. He wasn’t even sure what had triggered it.

She swung her head to look at him. “They are so mean to him!”

“Well - I -” Mike licked his lips. He didn’t think now was the time to explain the basic nature of Peanuts and Charlie Brown’s relationship with his friends. “I know I’ve said this every time, but if you would just turn it back on -”

“Those. Aren’t. Friends.” El said sternly. She didn’t look like she was going to cry; she looked like she was going to punch him. She stood up and glared at him, hands on her hips. “You don’t treat your friends that way.”

Mike, searching for a way to de-escalate the situation, went for a joke. “I mean, Dustin sometimes, when he’s being an asshole.”

She stamped her foot impatiently. “You don’t treat me that way.”

“You’re not an asshole.” Mike said flatly. “And also you’re not just my friend, you’re my girlfriend.”

It worked. She deflated, flashing him that quick, elated grin that was involuntary every time one of them reminded the other that they were dating (dating like actual normal teenagers holy shit) but it didn’t completely replace the cross look on her face. “Charlie Brown isn’t an asshole.”

“No, he’s not,” he agreed with her. At least she wasn’t crying this time.

He held up his arm, and gestured to the empty seat next to him on the couch. She consented to sit down next to him.

Mike slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Mouthbreathers,” she muttered.

It was such an unexpected thing to hear out of her. He started in surprise, and then began to laugh. Before he had learned the simple pleasure of a well placed asshole or fucker, mouthbreather had been one of his favorite insults. He’d forgotten that he’d taught El that one.

“All right,” he conceded. “We don’t have to finish Charlie Brown Christmas.”

***

The one she liked the best ended up being the one he’d had no plans of showing her.

It was just a couple days before Christmas, and she was visiting the Wheelers so they could exchange presents - he had relatives coming in from out of town, and she and Hopper would be joining the Byers for dinner on Christmas Eve, so there was a good chance they wouldn’t be able to see each other for several days.

They were in the basement, because El had just given Mike his gift - a large binder for him to keep their Dungeons and Dragons characters and campaigns organized. Previously they had been scattered through notebooks and scrawled on loose pages, mixed in with his science and English notes as ideas came to him in class, and El had wanted to give him a safe space to keep everything together.

She had teamed up with Will to make it - he had done the drawing and delicate lettering on the outside cover and if Mike weren’t already in love with the gift the fact that she had included Will had made his heart feel full to bursting. The holidays were always hard for the Byers, and she had known that Will would need something to work on, to be distracted.

He had all of his game books piled on the table - trying already to flip through them, looking for notes to shove into the binder. The two of them had even thought to put in tabbed separators, which were decorated, but not labelled - leaving it to him to decide how to organize the thing.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see El admiring herself in the mirror, wearing one of his gifts to her. Despite Nancy’s attempts to lead him towards jewlery, which he thought was too flashy or too expensive, he’d ended up finding on his own something that he knew she’d love even though other people might find it a bit silly - a pair of hot pink, heart shaped sunglasses.

She caught him looking at her.

“They look good on you,” he said, clearing his throat. Her cheeks blushed as pink as the glasses, but she was smiling. “Like you could be in a magazine.”

He was sure she’d be pleased with his other gift, as soon as she could listen to it - the little cassette, a mixtape that he’d slaved over, was resting in the inside pocket of her coat upstairs. He wondered if she would realize that he’d put every song they’d danced to at the Snowball on it, if they weren’t all burned in her memory the same way they were in his.

She came over to stand next to him, resting her hand on the table next to his. He took it without hesitation. “This is perfect, El, just perfect. Thank you so much.”

“Thank Will too. He let me give it to you but it’s from him too,” she said, very seriously, like Mike could ever forget Will.

“No, of course, I’ll…” he trailed off as she lifted their entwined hands and wriggled into the safe circle of his arms. Her chin tilted up; she still had the sunglasses over her eyes, and Mike could see himself in the reflection.

I’m gonna kiss you, he thought, but right as he was leaning down the door at the top of the cellar steps banged open and Holly shouted, “Mike! The Grinch is starting!”

“Not now Holly!” he barked over El’s head, but she was already twisting away from him.

“What’s the Grinch?” He reached out and with one fingertip pushed the sunglasses up onto her head, letting him see her dark, serious eyes again.

“Eh,” he shoulders slumped. “It’s another one of those dumb shows. We don’t have to watch it.”

“Mom says come and watch!” Holly shouted again, too lazy to come down the steps. “It’s the Grinch, Mike!”

El was already heading up towards her. “I’ll watch with you,” she was telling Holly, and Mike rounded the bottom of the steps just in time to see her disappear into the first floor, holding Holly’s hand.

By the time he reached the living room, ten steps behind them, Holly had already deposited El on the couch and crawled up next to her. With a sigh, Mike grabbed the granny-square blanket off the back of the recliner and threw it over their legs.

“Can I see your glasses?” Holly asked, big eyes looking up at the pink sunglasses on El’s head.

“Hell no,” Mike answered for her. “You’ll break them, and they’re El’s Christmas gift. You gonna let her come over and play with all your toys Christmas morning?”

He thought for sure Holly would shout for their mother, but instead she frowned at him and stuck her tongue out. He stuck his out back at her, crossing his eyes so she’d giggle instead of cry.

“Look El,” she said, patting the older girl’s leg. “That’s the Grinch.”

The girls made themselves comfortable. El was watching the television with the same childlike intensity as Holly. Mike, however, was braced for the worst - everything else they’d watched had triggered some sort of emotional response in El that he hadn’t been able to predict, and this evening had gone so well until this point. He hated the thought that she might go home crying again, and that he wouldn’t see her for several days as they each celebrated the holiday…

So he was tense, barely able to crack a smile as Holly bellowed her way through You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch, though El had certainly laughed as she had emphasized Stink! Stank! Stunk! and pointed towards Mike. The nature of sibling relationships was something he’d tried to explain to El, and they’d come far if, instead of worrying that Holly was upsetting Mike, she could just laugh along with his sister.

Holly was settling down by the time the Grinch was sledding into Whoville, head resting on the arm of the couch and her little feet pillowed on El’s thigh. El had taken his hand, and was resting her head on his shoulder, and so he missed it when she started crying.

His chest felt hollow. Mike couldn’t for the life of him think of what could be so upsetting. “What’s the matter?” he murmured, leaning so close their noses were almost touching.

El always found a way to surprise him. Instead of sounding distressed, or angry, she patted her chest with the hand that wasn’t holding his. “His heart grew,” she said simply. “They’re friends now.”

His face must have still looked mystified, because she shrugged. “It’s happy,” she tried to explain. “He was alone, but they’re all friends now, even though he tried to steal Christmas.”

Mike mouthed for words. “You didn’t like the other shows!”

“The other shows weren’t happy.” El sniffed, shaking her head like she was trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth. Then she looked at him, her face softened, and she leaned up to kiss him -

“Mike?” It was Nancy interrupting them this time, and Mike was not shy about his irritation as he heaved a huge sigh. “Hopper called, he’s on his way from the station to pick up El.”

He helped her stand up from the couch, but as they reached the doorway, Nancy blocked them, standing in the kitchen. “You liked the Grinch, El?”

El nodded, still holding onto Mike’s hand.

“That’s good,” Nancy said, utterly sincere. “Mike was really excited to celebrate some Christmas traditions with you.”

Alarms started blaring in Mike’s mind. There was something off about Nancy’s tone, and she was still standing in the doorway…

“Of course, he almost missed one of the most important ones, didn’t you Mike?” she asked with with a cheerful grin, the cat having cornered the mouse, and pointed up.

There, hanging above their heads, was a perfect sprig of mistletoe.

“Merry Christmas!” Nancy trilled, and left them, El with a confused look on her face, and Mike feeling an intense cross between frustrated (how dare Nancy set them up) and excited (he’d been looking for an excuse to kiss her anyway).

“What is it?” El asked, reaching up to touch her fingertip to the mistletoe.

Mike squeezed her hand, redirecting his attention to her. “It’s called mistletoe. It’s - if you’re under it with - with your boyfriend, you’re supposed to -”

He was surprised when she cut off his explanation by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him firmly for as long as was probably safe knowing that his family could walk in any moment.

When she pulled away, he gaped at her.

“Max already told me about mistletoe,” she said with a little smile. Then, “Oh, I hear Hopper.”

She was almost at the door before he found a response. “How did Max tell you about mistletoe?!”

[thelioncourts]

what are some of the most beautiful fics of wincest or j2? in your opinion? what the some of the funniest fics? which fics made you cry the most?

this is such a loaded question. our fandom is full of so many amazing stories and so many talented authors, and it’s almost impossible for me to make a list of anything without it being three miles long. that being said, I’ll try. mind you, I am far less read in Wincest. despite my love of it, J2 fics have always called to me more, and always, so forgive me if most of what I give are J2 stories. the beautiful and the ones that make me cry often criss-cross, so I’ll do my best to organize them as much as I can.

Beautiful Fics

Forever is a Lonely Number by lightinthehall

[ Written for the prompt ] “Jensen never ages, Jared does, but they stay together forever.”

Comment: an absolutely breathtaking story. so much is said in so few words and I both ache and dream and sigh happily at this story every time.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 3286; Warnings: character death

In Becoming Who We Are by errant-jane

Fresh out of school with a degree from the University of Washington, Jensen meets and falls for Jeff Morgan. He may not know what he wants to do with his life, but for the first time since leaving Texas, he feels like things are coming together. Jeff seems like the perfect guy, right up until it all falls apart, and Jensen is left wondering where he went wrong. A couple failed relationships and a few years later, Jensen’s decided that one-night stands are preferable to dates. He’s got his friends and his roommate, Sophia, for everything non-sex related, after all. Until Sophia decides to move in with her boyfriend and Jensen’s stuck trying to find a new roommate. At Sophia’s insistence, Jensen meets Jared Padalecki and the two become fast friends. Only, the more they get to know each other, the more obvious it is that there’s something there. But Jensen is unwilling to risk losing Jared’s friendship for the possibility of more. Unfortunately, if he doesn’t get things figured out, he might lose Jared anyway.

Comment: this story is causes so much emotional confusion for me because it’s so perfect with just Jensen and Jeff and I couldn’t see how it would end up with Jared in the picture at all and then it just. happens. and it’s amazing to watch Jensen grow and to watch Jared worm his way, unknowingly really, into Jensen’s heart.

Rating: NC-17; Word Count: 82700; Warnings: none

A Song in the Stars by strive2bhappy

Jared Padalecki has dreamed of taking to the skies since he was five-years-old. When he becomes an adult and builds a spaceship of his own, he gets to do just that, looking for adventure – little did he know the adventure waiting for him. Jensen Ackles is born part human, part Terryn and his life as an outcast is difficult – music is his only real escape. When he’s captured by the Dominion, an organization hell-bent on taking over every galaxy in every way they can, he’s used as a lab experiment to see how his special, combined heritage can be advantageous for them. Fleeing Dominion control, he vows to himself, they will never find him again. A chance meeting between Jared and Jensen helps both of them get what they’re looking for – and the way things end up, it may have been more than just chance. From various planets throughout different galaxies, to nights under the stars in space, Jared and Jensen find in each other something worth fighting – and possibly dying – for.

Comment: I think about this story so often. sometimes I look at the stars and think of these boys.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 39813; Warnings: none

Meet You at the Dock by grace_fully

jensen’s a third-year ivy league student home in small town Vermont for the summer. the lake, his family, his friends – all the way he left them last year. except jared. jared’s new.

Comment: grace_fully is one of the most talented writers this fandom has had and I miss her so much. this story is so simple and gorgeous and you can feel the pining just as much as you can feel drip of sweat on your skin in a muggy summer.

Rating: PG-13; Word Count: 5800; Warnings: None

Miles to Go by @dollyluxe

As Jensen’s assistant, Jared takes care of him at work. As a man in love, he can’t help that he wants to wrap him up in a warm blanket and take care of him in every other aspect of his life, too.

Comment: I read this fic at least once a month, if not more. it’s a Christmas fic that is so much more than a Christmas fic. it makes your heart stop in your chest and it makes you want. 

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 8176; Warnings: none

Funniest Fics

So Hurry Up and Bring Your Jukebox Money by curds_and_wheyface

It’s Mardi Gras at the beach and Chad wants to film Jared getting laid for his website. It says a lot about their friendship that this isn’t even the weirdest thing Chad’s ever asked of him.

Comment: it’s steaming hot and hysterical and Chad is a main character, which guarantees laughter. 

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 7527; Warnings: voyeurism, alcohol 

(A Shortage of) Sense and Sensibility by lightinthehall

[ Mockumentary!AU fic ] Except Jared just can’t understand why Jensen isn’t off-the-charts, truly, madly, deeply in love with him. He’s pretty used to merely looking at people and having them swoon all over the place. Not Jensen. Not only is Jensen apparently immune to the sex-power-stare of Jared Padalecki, he’s never around to witness it. Every time the director yells That’s a wrap! Jared turns to say, ask Jensen out for something casual like coffee at his place – or sex on the coffee table at his place -  poof! Jensen’s gone before he can even get a word out.

Comment: I love the mockumentary. I love that weirdo universe’s not-Jared and not-Jensen. this fic captures that so much and I just giggle constantly.

Rating: Teen; Word Count: 3533; Warnings: none

A Man’s Fortune by morrezela 

Jared is a dragon. Jensen is a pretty if foolhardy young man trespassing on Jared’s mountain. Nobody ever warned Jensen about the possessive nature of dragons.

Comment: this is so much more than just a funny fic, but it is funny and made me laugh out loud at times. Jared is just. so sad (hysterically sad) that Jensen doesn’t want to be captured by him, and I just. the poor thing. 

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 25791; Warnings: dubious consent 

To Hell and Back by ashtraythief

It is said that if a demon steals an angel from heaven he’ll gain immense power. Jared is a demon who doesn’t fit in and when he finds a spell to open a passage to heaven, he thinks he’s found a solution to all his problems: angel power. But Jensen, the angel he takes, is not at all what he expected a celestial being to be like and things don’t go as planned. At all. In the ensuing chaos, Jared and Jensen have to form a strained alliance to survive and embark on a dangerous journey through the deepest pits of hell to flee from Jared’s rivals and all the other demons jonesing for angel blood.

Comment: I read this last year and it was one of my favorites of the Big Bang that year. Jared is the most hysterical and adorablely wonderful demon and Jensen is the most un-angel-y guy and their adventure is amazing, whilst having a fantastic plot.

Rating: Explicit; Word Count: 28378; Warnings: violence

Decaffeinated by Molly

In which Jensen develops a drinking problem, and Jared solves it for him.

Comment: we all know that Jensen + coffee is the true OTP and, as a fellow coffee addict, I just couldn’t not love this fic

Rating: General; Word Count: 5071; Warnings: none 

#FlyTheUnfriendlySkies by dugindeep

Jensen is a customer service agent in American Airlines’ Admirals Club and Jared is the crabby celebrity who is always in his face.

Comment: literally just. this fic. lmao. 

Rating: NC-17; Word Count: 7600; Warnings: none

Fics that Made Me Cry

The Courtship of Jensen’s Co-Star by @qblackheart

Somewhere in the time between a handshake and a hug, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki went from being reel-life brothers to real-life best friends, and complete strangers to cosmic soul mates, no rhyme or reason to it that either of them could ever see. Jared was everything Jensen was not: friendly, funny, and full of life; one in six-point-whatever billion the Earth’s population currently stood at. Life was awesome. Work was amazing. Everything was fine until Jared kissed Jensen. Everything was peachy until Jensen fell in love. With desperate times unexpectedly calling for desperate measures, Jensen called Chad Michael Murray for relationship advice – because being in love led to temporary insanity obviously – so it really didn’t surprise him that he couldn’t seem to win when it came to wooing Jared. Still, Pisces must’ve been in a really good place in the night sky or something because suddenly, right smack dab in the middle of the miserable courtship of his co-star, Jensen discovered that maybe loving Jared was all he needed to do to win his heart. And luckily for Jensen, loving Jared was also the one thing he did best.

Comment: I talk about this fic all the time, but, god, I can’t help it. it’s them. and I cry and my hands shake and I’m completely overwhelmed by them. always.

Rating: NC-17; Word Count: 112,000+; Warnings: none

Forget-Me-Not by @babybrotherdean  

In 1547, they meet as children. Sometimes, even when two people are truly meant to be together, it takes a few lifetimes across a few centuries for everything to sort itself out.

Comment: reincarnation. meant-to-be. losing each other. ache ache ache. 

Rating: Mature; Word Count: 9400; Warnings: character death

I Saw You Shine by @dollyluxe

Jared gets a glimpse into Jensen’s new life.

Comment: this was written for me so I’m probably a bit biased (I cried when I saw the notification, let alone the tears that came when I read it), but I absolutely sob reading this story. I understand them both more than I care to ever explain, and it’s the most gorgeous kind of pain that ends as happy as it can because it’s our boys and it has to. 

Rating: Teen; Word Count: 3203; Warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts

Criminal Intentions by fftf

One murdered girl and no solid suspects’ leads local sheriff Jeffrey Dean Morgan to Jared - son of respected ex-sheriff, Gerald Padalecki, and soon-to-be newlywed. With nothing but shared history and circumstantial evidence to link him to the case, Jared’s name is cleared, but there is more than one life destroyed that night and harsh truths are brought to light which threaten everything Jared thought he could count on. Four years later Jared Padalecki returns to his hometown, and his old life – including his best friend and ex-fiancé Jensen – as a successful Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Jared has received information which endangers Jensen and everything Jared still holds dear, but his investigation provides him with more than he bargained for, including worrying insights into the crime that destroyed his life. Is Genevieve Cortese’s killer back and gunning for Jensen? Or is there more to the case than meets the eye?

Comment: this isn’t so much a crying-fic as it is just pure emotion. it’s so charged and intense and I could feel my breathing drop at times and. ugh. yes.

Rating: NC-17; Word Count: 69350; Warnings: character death

And a fic that fits all of these categories:

sadly is not online anymore. but.

The Doors of Time by felisblanco

god. this story. my forever-favorite fic ever. absolutely ever. I sob and dream and can see everything. absolutely everything that happens in this story. I wish I was more eloquent with my words so I could tell you what this story means to me, and one day I will. one day I’ll get all my thoughts about this story down. one day I’ll be able to comprehend the pain and joy this story brings me.