Ride the Cyclone 2025 Oneshot Advent Calender

by NoelGrubersTacoBellOrder

Summary:

A Ride the Cyclone holiday one-shot for every day leading up to Christmas

Notes:

If I ever drop a fic late, my most sincere apologies.

Chapter 1: Day 1: Prompts

Merry Christmas, you filthy animals! 

 

Since my most popular work on Ao3 was the June Doe 2025 Oneshot Collection, I figured I’d do something a bit similar, now as an Advent Calendar for oneshots.

 

Last time, I did June Doe during my finals week, so it was very stressful and very rushed. Now there’s a lot less pressure on school, and I’ll have a lot of downtime since my musical is going into tech and I need something to do during all those big group numbers I’m not in.

 

Here are the categories!

 

Day 1: Categories

Day 2: Mistletoe

Day 3: Secret Santa

Day 4: The Christmas Pageant/Nativity Scene

Day 5: Gift Giving

Day 6: Caroling

Day 7: Christmas Morning

Day 8: Winter Concert

Day 9: Family Gatherings

Day 10: The Blackwood Cafe

Day 11: Colds/Winter Sickness

Day 12: Ice Skating

Day 13: Santa Claus

Day 14: Snowball Fights

Day 15: Christmas Cookies

Day 16: Holiday Parties

Day 17: Family Traditions

Day 18: Christmas Movies

Day 19: Holiday Sweaters

Day 20: Snow and Ice

Day 21: Christmas Vacation

Day 22: Ocean's Birthday

Day 23: Winter Sports

Day 24: Christmas Eve

 

If you want to use any (or all) of these prompts, go right ahead!

Happy Holidays, RTC fandom, whatever you may celebrate.

Chapter 2: Day 2: Mistletoe

Summary:

Title: Project Spacedolls

Constance and the choir try to get Ricky and Penny under the mistletoe

Notes:

I had a lot of fun writing this! If anything sounds weird, it's probably because I wrote most of this on my flight back from London (where I saw RTC!) and was incredibly sleep deprived.

Ships: Spacedolls and a bit of Blackrose

“Constance? Why are we here?”

Ocean, Noel, and Misha were huddled on Constance’s rug while she faced a chalkboard she’d borrowed from the Blackwood Cafe. There were two noticeable absences from her room that Sunday night.

Constance inhaled. “Okay. I have an idea. A crazy idea that needs your help.”

“What do you mean? And where are Ricky and Penny?” Ocean asked, adjusting her posture.

“That’s exactly what I called you all here to talk about! Ricky and Penny.”

“What about them?”

Constance turned around and began doodling on the board. The sound of scratching chalk filled the room as she spoke. “Well, they like each other! Penny’s been pining for at least five months, and I see how Ricky looks at her. They’re crazy for each other!” She gestured wildly to her drawing of two stick figures.

Misha looked up from his phone, the blue light illuminating his face from below. “Where’s this going?”

Constance crossed her arms and looked between them all. “I’m proposing a little something I’ve titled Project Spacedolls. I've been thinking of a way to get them together for a while, and I've finally got a plan.”

Noel cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking… how? I mean, Ricky’s scared shitless of messing things up with her. He’d never willingly risk their friendship.”

“That’s just it!” Constance exclaimed. She scampered across the room, retrieved a box of Christmas decorations, and set it on her pink mattress. Her next words were drowned out by the rustling of jingle bells and ornaments, but what she pulled out next gave the choir a pretty good idea of her plan.

Mistletoe.

She triumphantly held it out to the others. “They won’t do anything romantic willingly, so we get them under the mistletoe! It's what they do in all the movies.”

“How would we-“

“We hang it up in the music room early tomorrow morning,” Constance began, scribbling on her board.“That’s where we need Ocean. Since you usually arrive at-”

“7:30 AM sharp!”

“-You’ll be able to hang it up before either of them arrives. Tomorrow's a Monday, so the only class that uses the music room is us. Our only problem is Marcus,” she added, turning away from her drawings. “I imagine he wouldn’t be thrilled to know we’re setting all of this up in the choir room, so we need Misha to distract him.” 

Misha nodded. “Noel, you’re on Ricky duty. Make sure you get them to choir practice at least five minutes early. I’m in charge of making sure Penny gets there.”

Constance finished off her drawing with a final drag of chalk. “I’ve made some treats for choir practice tomorrow. I’ll put them wherever Ocean decides to hang the mistletoe. Once they go to grab brownies and see they’re under mistletoe, mission accomplished.”

“That’s one way to spend a Monday,” Noel joked, leaning back on the rug.

“So we’re in?” Constance asked.

“We’re in.”

---

Ocean marched through the halls, putting phase one of Constance’s plan into action. The early morning sun shone through the windows, illuminating the empty corridors of Saint Cassian.

She lifted her Barbie-themed walkie-talkie to her ear, whispering as she traveled. “Electra Heart? This is Red Robin. Do you copy? Over!”

Constance, who was sitting on the steps outside Saint Cassian, raised the Skipper speaker to her mouth. “Yes, I copy,” she replied, her voice shaking. “Now, can you hurry up? It’s -6 degrees outside!”

“Right. Sorry,” Ocean apologized, putting the plastic device back in her pocket and unlocking the music room. Being the choir captain sure helped when she needed to access the school before operating hours. She pushed open the door, and the light from the corridor spilled onto the risers. “I’m in.”

Constance shivered outside and clutched her parka closer to her chest. “Great! Now hurry!”

Ocean scanned the room before settling on a ceiling lamp left of center. She pulled the mistletoe sprig from her pocket and aimed at the edge of the rounded lamp. She knew volunteering at a youth softball camp would come in handy someday.

With a clear throw, the mistletoe's sticky top stuck to the light. Ocean pumped a fist in the air.

“Mission accomplished, Electra Heart!”

---

Phase two had begun. Misha filed out of the chapel after morning mass and searched the crowds for the choir conductor. 

He flicked on his Ken walkie-talkie. “No sign of him yet,” he mumbled and made his way to choir class.

“Keep looking, Egg Salad,” Constance replied, searching the opposite side of the hall for Penny.

Misha froze. “Why is that my codename? That’s lame as fuck!”

“I don’t know, the whole Barbie walkie-talkies and codename thing was Ocean’s idea. Ask her,” she sighed.

“I mean, why do you get a dope ass music album for your name and I get barf food! It’s-“

Father Marcus left the chapel and crossed to the music room. “I see him,” Misha whispered, pushing through the small crowd of kids. “Rap God out,” he said, clicking off his radio.

Misha trailed the older man, who was shuffling through his sheet music. He shook out his hands before tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Father?” Misha asked, already cringing over what he was about to do.

Father Marcus turned to smile at him. “Ah, Misha!” he exclaimed. “What can I do, my boy?”

Misha sighed, avoiding the priest’s gaze. “I need some- erm- religious guidance. I’m going through some tough times, and would love to strengthen my relationship with the lord.”

Father Marcus smiled. “I’d be happy to help, Misha,” he said, giving him a friendly clap on the back. “Why don’t we go into the church, shall we?”

Misha nodded. As he followed Marcus in, he flicked on his walkie-talkie. “I remembered Ocean's stupid speech. He’s out of the way. Choir room is secured.”

---

“This is Roxy, reporting to Electra Heart. No sign of Ricky yet,” Noel said, lingering by Ricky’s locker. Ricky usually grabbed a sketchbook before choir since there wasn’t much else for them to do.

Constance sighed into her radio. “Mass let out six minutes ago, where are they?” she said, standing outside the girls’ bathroom.

“Any sign of Penny?” Noel asked.

“She went into the bathroom a few minutes ago. It feels weird stalking her.”

Just then, Noel spotted Ricky’s purple wheelchair among the crowd of straggling students. “I got them,” he said as they approached. “See you in the choir room.”

---

Constance turned off her walkie-talkie and leaned against the wall. For the first time in choir history, everything was going according to plan! The room was set up, Father Marcus was distracted, Ricky was on their way to the choir room, and finally, Penny was leaving the girls' bathroom.

Constance jogged up to the taller girl, her face plastered with a grin. “Penny! I made brownies for the choir today. I know you love brownies!”

Penny removed her headphones. “Why did you make brownies? Our Christmas party isn’t until next Wednesday.”

“They’re- uh- for… Ocean’s birthday! Yeah! Ocean’s birthday.”

“Didn’t she want lemon bars for her birthday-”

Constance grabbed her hand and led her to the choir room. “Oh, well, silly me! Come on!”

---

The choir room was prepared for the setup. Constance had put the treats, napkins, and drinks under the mistletoe that morning. Now, all she had to do was walk Penny in. 

She’d timed their entrance just a few seconds after Ricky’s. With any luck, they would be under the mistletoe in no time.

“Well, go get ‘em!” Constance exclaimed, lightly shoving Penny towards the brownies. 

Penny looked around the choir room, which was empty besides the table filled with desserts. There weren’t any party supplies or festivities for Ocean’s alleged birthday celebration. In fact, the only decoration in the room was a branch of mistletoe hung above the table. The table Ricky was already stuffing their face with brownies at.

That’s when it hit her. 

"Are you guys trying to do something here?” Penny asked the choir, nodding to the mistletoe. “Like, get me under that?”

Constance’s face fell. “What…? Huh? No! Hah…! Why on earth would you think that?”

Penny made eye contact with Ricky, who had spotted the mistletoe by now. “Were you trying to set me up with Ricky?”

Silence.

“You do know that we’re already dating, right?”

Ocean almost dropped her sheet music. “What?! Since when?”

“Like three weeks ago. We wanted to tell you all at the holiday party,” Ricky signed. Penny came over to kiss their forehead. 

“So, our whole plan of coming to school at the crack of dawn, distracting Father Marcus, and dragging you two to choir was all for nothing?” Constance asked, stunned as she strode to the couple beside the table.

“I guess so.”

Ocean followed closely behind Constance. “You should’ve told us! Connie and I could’ve prepared congratulations gifts, or cards, or-”

Ricky held up a hand to silence her, before pointing above where Constance and Ocean stood.

Mistletoe.

Chapter 3: Day 3: Secret Santa

Notes:

its almost midnight i got nothing to say.

Ships: Spaceraps

Monday:

 

Misha was pushing to get through the last week of school before winter break. He’d stopped paying attention last Friday and instead chose to watch the snowflakes outside the window.

 

The holidays used to be his favorite time of the year. It was when his mom would come back from the factory, and he would play with the kids in his apartment block all day. On Christmas Eve, they would take the train over to his grandparents' house in Bilyaivka and have the nicest dinner they could afford. Then, on Christmas morning, he’d spend all day playing with the new toys his mom got him.

 

He missed that.

 

He didn’t have anything to look forward to around the holidays now. His adoptive parents went over to an extended family's house, so his Christmas dinners were always 7-11 hot dogs and whatever he could get off the value menu at Taco Bell. Sometimes, if he were lucky, he’d get a new pair of socks regifted by his adoptive father and leftover mashed potatoes.

 

The school bell rang Misha out of his internal monologue. He grabbed his backpack and swung it around his shoulder, finally leaving school for the day.

 

The halls were filled with kids in snowcoats and boots racing to get out the door. Noel was working, and he didn’t have hockey today, which meant he was heading straight home after school. Not fun.

 

Misha opened his locker door, trying to find a space that wasn’t crammed with loose papers or trash. He thought he had left some space on the top shelf, but something was blocking where he’d tried to jam his notebook. 

 

A present.

 

Why was there a present there?

 

Misha pulled the gift down. It was a small box covered in Christmas tree wrapping paper with a note taped to the top.

 

Merry Christmas, Misha!

Love, your Secret Santa <3

 

P.S. Clean your locker :)

 

“What…?” Misha whispered, turning the box over in his hands. He picked at the edge of the wrapping paper, tearing it slowly, and revealing a box of chocolates. 

 

Chocolates he hadn’t seen since he was in Ukraine. His favorite chocolates since he was a kid.

 

“Holy shit!” he shouted, earning some weird looks from passersby as he held out the treats. He’d been craving these for the past month!

 

Whoever this ‘Secret Santa’ guy was, they were dope!

 

–

 

Tuesday

 

Despite trying to savour each one, Misha had finished the entire box of chocolates in one night. It was his parents’ fault for forgetting to feed him. Plus, they just tasted so damn good!

 

Misha walked down the halls with Noel, leading him to his locker. “That’s what I’m saying, bro! More chocolates in Canada should contain alcohol. Not enough to get drunk off of, but enough to give it that nice aftertaste, you know?”

 

Noel snorted. “So these chocolates were good enough to get you to clean out your locker?”

 

“It’s the thought that counts,”  Misha shrugged.

 

Misha opened his locker door and peered inside. He knew it was unlikely, but he was hoping for another gift from his Secret Santa.

 

Tucked in the back of his locker was another box, just a little smaller than before. The paper on top read:

 

Merry Christmas, Misha!

Love, your Secret Santa <3

 

P.S. Thanks for cleaning out your locker. You needed it.

 

Misha snickered at the note and stuck it in his pocket. He’d kept the last one in his dresser drawer.

 

“Another gift?” Noel asked, looking over Misha’s shoulder at the present. “Seems more like a secret admirer than a Santa.”

 

Misha began unwrapping the gift. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m just saying it’s a bit suspicious. Special attention, signing it with love, hearts on the notes, personalized gifts…” Noel gestured to the freshly unveiled lyric notebook in Misha’s hand.

 

“So you’re saying it’s romantic?”

 

“Just something to think about.”

 

Misha looked down at the notebook in his hand. The sleek leather cover, perforated pages, and little doodles were thoughtful touches…

 

Huh.

 

—

 

Friday:

 

Misha had spent the past two days trying to figure out who his secret Santa was. As he walked through the hall for the final time before break, he flipped through his new notebook. He’d been trying to identify who the drawings that were scattered across the pages belonged to. It was times like these that he wished he’d attended Saint Cassian’s annual art shows.

 

The one thing he was sure of was that it was someone he already knew. Nobody outside his close group of friends knew what his favorite chocolates were or how he’d just filled up his last notebook. Maybe it was someone from his hockey team. Or a really good stalker.

 

He opened his locker that morning, still looking down at the journal. There hadn't been another gift in two days. Misha assumed that was the end of it.

 

Just then, a striking red rose and tag on the top shelf caught his eye. What was that doing here?

 

He grabbed it by its stem, pulled it off the top shelf, and turned the note over in his hand.

 

Dear Misha,

I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that I’m terrible at talking to people. Why else would I be shoving anonymous gifts in your locker? Well, that and gift-giving is my love language.

 

What I’m trying to say is that I like you. If you’d be willing, I’d love to take you out to Benjamin’s Diner tonight, my treat.

 

Love, your Secret Santa.

 

Misha lowered the note and stared into his locker in disbelief. Noel was right. There were romantic intentions behind the presents.

 

Even if he didn’t know who it was, he knew one thing for certain: he was going on that date.

 

–

 

Friday Night:

 

He spent the afternoon pacing around his room, trying to decide what to wear and how to act. That evening, he stood outside of Benjamin’s Diner, his heart beating through his chest. He wasn’t sure why he was so anxious.

 

Maybe he was nervous about who would be on the other side of the table. More likely, it was because he’d actually fallen for his Santa through their notes and gifts.

 

Misha adjusted his shirt, took a deep breath, and pushed open the restaurant door.

 

The 50s-style diner was decorated with wreaths and garlands, all in keeping with the Christmas season. Almost every booth and table was filled with couples or families, except for one.

 

Tucked into a booth in the back of the restaurant was Ricky Potts, with their crutches propped up on the seat beside them. They were looking down at the table, nervously spinning a fork around. Misha’s chest tightened in a way it hadn’t since he was dating Talya.

 

He walked to the table, admiring the twinkling Christmas lights and festive atmosphere. When Misha slid into the booth, Ricky’s gaze left their hands and lit up.

 

“You came,” they signed, their ears turning a light shade of pink.

 

Misha couldn’t help but smile. “How could I not?” His fingers fidgeted with one of his bracelets.

 

They shrugged, their eyes darting away briefly. “Thought maybe you’d figured it out and didn’t want to go out with me.”

 

“Never guessed for a second that it was you. Hoped it was, but never guessed.”

 

“Good”. Ricky’s hand reached out for Misha’s, and for a moment, the world around them went quiet. This was the best Christmas gift Misha had gotten all year.

Chapter 4: Day 4: Christmas Pageant/Nativity Scene

Summary:

Title: Hail Mary

The Christmas pageant written from Mary’s perspective

Notes:

This is the real Grace Moran, the writer is my classmate, this is a true story btw. Subscribe to Electraheart on YouTube.

No ships

I’ve been preparing to play Mary in the Saint Cassian Nativity Scene since I was a little girl. It's a part that's been played by generations of Moran women. First, my mom; then my older sister Sally, and now me. Grace Moran.

I’m sitting in the car as we drive to the Saint Cassian auditorium. We made sure to arrive at least forty-five minutes before the show started. It’s not even dark yet.

“One more time, Grace,” Sally said, flipping through the script, “Let’s go over your lines.”

I sat up straight in my seat. “Oh, Joseph, I’m about to give birth to Jesus Christ of Nazareth! We need to find a place to stay tonight.”

Sally read the next line. “But there is no room at this inn, for it is Christmas! Shall we stay in this barn?”

“Yes, Joseph. Let’s go to the manger!”

She closed the script. “You got them all down pat. You’re ready.”

I smile at my sister from across the car. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since I started at Saint Cassian.

---

I’m standing in front of the mirror backstage and putting on my blue headdress. The energy in the room is electric, with kids running around, practicing lines, and doing their makeup. Nothing makes me happier than being on stage.

It makes me think back to how I landed the role. I spent hours practicing my audition monologue from Women of the Bible. I’m not joking about how long it took. My mom didn’t let me have dinner until I was perfect.

Obviously, I beat out everyone else. Even Ocean O’Connell-Rosenberg, who I didn’t know had the ability to lose. She’s scowling at me from across the room right now.

I did notice something during our five rehearsals: none of them seemed to be enjoying themselves! I mean, I understand Noel is only playing Joseph because there weren’t any other men, but still!

Speaking of Noel, he’s waving me into the wings right now. We’re on next. I look at my dress a final time, stuff a pillow under it, and run to meet him.

The high school choir finishes their showcase (albeit, they were a tad pitchy) and steps off the stage. Noel, our donkey Ramona, and I make our way behind the red curtain and wait for it to rise.

I hear Father Marcus’ voice over the PA system. He’s explaining the rules like ‘no flash photography’ and ‘wait for a transition in showcases before leaving to use the bathroom’, but all I can think about is how I finally get to carry the Moran torch.

The curtain rises, and I’m in the spotlight. I see my mom’s face and her camcorder pointed straight at me.

Remember your choreography, Grace! Grab your stomach!

“Oh, Joseph, I’m about to give birth to Jesus Christ of Nazareth! We need to find a place to stay tonight.”

Going well. Wait for Noel’s line.

“But there is no room at this inn, for it is Christmas!”

Perfect

“Shall we hang ourselves?”

… what?

That’s NOT his line!

“I hear it gives you an erection!”

Oh my God. What the fuck, Ramona! This is not what our director meant when she said improvise if something goes wrong.

I try to stop Noel, cut him off maybe, but he keeps going. “Then we must hang ourselves, immediately!”

Jesus Christ, he’s smiling! They’re both smiling! Okay, Grace, improvise. What would Mary of Nazareth say right now? How would she defend God’s honor?!

“Or we could just go to the manger, Joseph…”

Noel glared at me, but I don’t care. This is the goddamn Christmas pageant! The one time in my life my mom and sister will be proud of me.

My mom and sister.

I look down at the front row and see my family mortified. My dad has his hands over my brother’s ears. My mom is trying to stop the camera.

I’ve failed them. I’m not a Mary.

Noel is being dragged off stage, and Ramona soon follows. I’m frozen center stage as my pillow sags to the floor under my dress.

My entire family legacy, ruined by Noel fucking Gruber. 

Chapter 5: Day 5: Gift Giving

Summary:

Chapter Title: The Season of Giving

Ocean and Constance go out to buy a special gift for their daughter

Notes:

so i completely blew my recital today (i'm sick) and did poorly on a math test to I'm taking it out on Ocean. dont do drugs kids, do fanfic

“Oce, it’s November second, we have three weeks before we need to start Christmas shopping,” Constance said, following behind her wife. 

The mega mall was nearly empty, considering the time. The teenage mall custodians were hanging wreaths from the suspended ceilings and trying to put artificial frost on the windows. Ocean briskly walked past them.

“We need to get to the Hello Kitty store before the crowds reach it,” Ocean said, shoving their daughter’s list in Constance's hands. “Matilda explicitly told Santa she wanted a Holiday Cinnamoroll stuffed animal. What if they’re all sold out when we get there?! That’s her number one gift!”

Constance sighed. “Honey, they won’t be sold out. I bet they have a ton of them in stock for the holidays.”

Ocean continued to speed up until the two moms were almost running. “She’s a popular character! There’s probably already a line and other girls who want her-”

“Ocean, stop.” Constance put her arm on Ocean’s wrist. The redhead skidded to a halt. “It's 7 AM. We’re the only ones in this mall. They aren’t sold out. If they are, she still has five other things on her list that we can get while we wait for them to restock. Sound good?”

Ocean nodded. “Right. No rushing. Walk like normal people.”

“And?”

“Don’t stress.”

“Good.”

---

Constance had control of the pace from then on. Ocean took to reading the list out loud and planning their shopping trip.

“We go to Sanrio first to get her plush toy. We'll get her kitty pajamas and purple jacket at Gap. Noel insisted on buying her the Barbies she asked for, and your parents are getting her the art supplies, so those are off the list. The only thing left is the scooter, which we’ll pick up somewhere else.”

The girls turned the corner and headed into the Sanrio. The bell on the door jingled as they opened it. Ocean grabbed a basket while Constance absorbed the store’s atmosphere.

“God, this was my favorite store as a kid,” she reminisced, picking up a Hello Kitty doll. “I used to beg my mom to come here every day. Then I’d ask to stop at the Cinnabon down the way, but she said the ones she made were much better than this ‘mall crap’, and made me some to prove it. I wonder if she figured out I was trying to get her to make me cinnamon rolls,” she laughed.

Ocean bent back up and gripped the basket. “Constance, focus!”

Constance set the doll back down. “Right. We should be thinking about the other kind of Cinamorolls.”

“Exactly!” Ocean said as she pulled Constance towards the counter. The worker looked up from his phone.

Ocean smiled at the man. “Excuse me, uhm,” she looked down at his name tag, “Dean?”

Dean took out an earbud. “How may I help you?”

“Where would I find the Holiday Cinnamoroll plush?” Ocean asked, looking around the store.

Dean glanced towards the back of the store. “Our holiday shipment doesn’t come until November 7th. All we have in stock are the regular and Halloween Cinnamorolls.”

Ocean’s face fell. “But your website says you have them.”

Dean shrugged. “Probably an accident. Corporate ships them out today, but they take a while to arrive at North American locations. Sorry.”

Constance looked up at her wife. Her lips were drawn tight, and her face was red. Her fingers were digging into her palms.

Shit. Fix it.

Constance smiled back at the worker. “It’s okay! We’ll come back when they arrive. Thanks for your help.”

Dean nodded, slid his earbud in, and looked back down at his phone. Constance grabbed Ocean’s hand. Ocean avoided her gaze

“Hey, look at me,” she urged, rubbing circles into Ocean’s knuckles. Ocean reluctantly looked up from her shoes with red eyes. “Do you want to sit down?”

Ocean nodded, afraid that her voice would break if she spoke.

“Okay,” Constance whispered. She led Ocean out of the store and sat them down on one of the benches in the middle of the hall.

Ocean pulled her knees up to her chest, just like she did whenever she was overwhelmed. Constance waited for her to speak first.

Ocean took a deep breath, her voice shaking. “I don’t know why I’m so upset. We’ll just get it next time.”

“Is it because you planned out this trip just for the plush and can't get it right now?”

“…”

“Is it because you’re worried you won’t get it for her and she’ll be upset?”

Ocean sighed. “It's just… she’s so excited about that plushie. She’s been talking about it ever since she saw it in the Christmas catalogue. If Santa doesn't bring it to her, then… I feel like I’ve failed her as a mother. I know what it's like when you want something so bad as a kid and never get it. Especially when someone you really trusted promised it to you.”

“Does this have anything to do with your own parents?”

Ocean tugged at her shorts and went quiet for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the Polly Pocket?”

“Can’t say you have,” Constance replied.

Ocean huffed. “When we were in first grade, the same age as Matilda, I really wanted a Polly Pocket boutique. I mean, I was a little girl in the late nineties; it was a given. I told my parents I wanted one, wrote letters to Santa, and pointed it out every time we passed a toy store. They said it would be right under our tree come Christmas morning.” Ocean paused. “But when I woke up, there wasn’t anything under the tree. They didn’t even bother to get a tree. I cried all morning.”

Ocean continued. “That was when I learned not to trust my parents. Became self-sufficient at the ripe age of seven. I don’t want Matilda to think of me that way.”

“She won’t, Ocean,” Constance softly assured her. “You take care of her so much more than your parents ever did. The fact that putting so much effort into making her Christmas magical says so much.”

Ocean turned to smile at her. “You think so?”

Constance reciprocated. “I know so. You’re a good mom.”

Chapter 6: Day 6: Caroling

Summary:

Chapter Title: Carol of the Bells
.
The choir has a very unsuccessful day caroling, but does have some cute couple moments

Notes:

SO SORRY ABOUT BEING A DAY LATE! My day was packed with an open house for my school, a five hour rehearsal, and a game night/sleepover, so I was legitimately booked from 8 AM to midnight. I'll catch up before Christmas Eve, promise.

Ships: Nisha, Spacedolls, and Blackrose.

The snow crunched beneath the boots of the Saint Cassian Chamber Choir members as they headed into Main Street. Christmas lights twinkled through the windows of shops and houses.

The annual tradition of going caroling around Uranium was a favorite among the choir members. Every December 20th, Father Marcus rounded up the students at the public library, handed them their music books, and they headed downtown. 

Illuminated by streetlights, the choir members walked in pairs behind Father Marcus, towards the first house.

 

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚₊˚⊹♡🍰🍓♡⊹˚₊

 

“Positions, everyone!” Ocean yelled as she led the group onto the porch of the first house. “Girls in the front, boys and Ricky in the back.”

The choir rearranged around Ocean, who rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a man in a robe holding a glass of red wine. He looked down at their sheet music and songbooks.

“Hello, we are the Saint Cassian Chamber Choir, and-”

“Sorry, not interested,” he interrupted.

Ocean frowned. “Are you sure? It’s only one -”

Slam.

Ocean scoffed, offended on behalf of the choir. That was a bitter way to start the night.

The choir stood silently facing the door. Constance turned and grinned at the choir. “Well, next house! Can’t let one bad apple spoil the bunch!”

 

---

 

Five houses later, and they hadn’t sung a single song. With two polite rejections and three doors shut in their faces, spirits were hanging low.

“Can you believe the audacity of some people?” Ocean ranted, her gloved hand in Constance’s. “I mean, where’s the Christmas spirit? You can listen to one carol before returning to whatever crappy show you were watching.”

“We have been rejected quite a bit…” Constance replied, reflecting on previous years.

Ocean huffed in frustration. “What’s different this time? I mean, we do have fewer members since we lost Corey, Hank, Trishna, and Astrid, but we’ve still got a strong choir!”

“Maybe people are tired of hearing the same songs?” Constance suggested, “I mean, we have been singing ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ ever since we were freshmen."

“That’s not it,” Ocean asserted, approaching the next house. “People love that song.”

Constance glanced up at Ocean. “Do they love it or do you love it?”

“I-” Ocean stuttered, her feet planted on the front deck. “I love it.”

“Mhm,” Constance rang the doorbell. “Just think about it. Maybe bring it up to Father Marcus for next year’s choir.”

“You’re right,” Ocean admitted, pressing a kiss to Constance’s cheek.

Constance hummed. “You’re getting better at admitting it.”

 

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָ🥀་༘࿐ִֶָ⋆⋆✮♪♫🎧♫♪✮⋆⋆

 

Noel and Misha were the second pair in the line. So far, they'd gone to twenty houses and sung five songs. Pretty good, considering how they started.

Now, they were looping around their route. They usually hit all the houses on Main Street, plus a few in the neighborhood, and ended the night with snacks and warm beverages from the Blackwood Cafe. That was the best part of the tradition.

The two boys were sharing earbuds and listening to Eminem. Not Noel’s first choice, but Misha aggressively lip-syncing the songs was too cute to pass up.

The snow was picking up, with more flakes falling on the coats and noses of the choir members. Misha had insisted on leaving his house without his jacket, claiming it would cramp his style. Just as Noel had warned, his baggy jeans and t-shirt weren’t quite holding up to the weather.

“You sure you aren’t cold?” he asked, watching his boyfriend shiver.

“Nah, dude, I’m mad-wicked awesome,” Misha replied, his teeth clattering. “Back in Ukraine, I dealt with worse weather in t-shirts and shorts. I can handle stupid Saskatchewan.”

Noel looked up and down Misha’s figure, which was covered in goosebumps. “Your fingers and nose are turning blue. You’re about five seconds away from catching a cold. Or hypothermia.”

Misha huffed. “I am fine. Can deal with a bit of cold.”

“So you admit it?” Noel teased. “You’re cold?”

“No! I never said-”

Noel took off his heavy coat and put it around Misha’s shoulders. “You’re welcome,” Noel said, kissing his cheek. Misha crossed his arms, but didn’t refuse the jacket.

A few seconds later, he was completely burrowed in its heat. 

 

༄˖°.🪐.ೃ࿔*:･♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

 

Finally, the trip around ended. They’d successfully sung at twelve out of forty houses. Well, fifteen, including the song Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood made them sing if they wanted food.

Rick was sitting in their favorite booth by the back of the restaurant with a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin in front of them. Penny carried her brownie over to their table and sat herself next to her partner.

“I can’t believe the Berkins family actually listened to us this year,” Ricky signed after taking a sip of their hot chocolate. “Usually, they don’t answer the door.”

“So I’ve heard,” Penny said, breaking off a piece of her brownie. “Ocean won’t stop talking about it.”

Ricky glanced over to where Ocean was animatedly talking to the others in the choir. “Guess so.”

Ricky took another sip of hot chocolate. A dollop of whipped cream landed on their nose when they lowered the cup.

Penny laughed softly, holding her own tea. “You’ve got something right there,” she said, pointing to the sugar on their nose.

“Well, so do you,” they signed with a grin.

Penny furrowed her brows, looking into her tea to see if she had something on her face. Suddenly, Ricky wiped the whipped cream off with their finger and slapped it onto Penny’s cheek.

Penny yelped, staring at Ricky in disbelief. “Oh, you’re on!” she challenged, grabbing the whipped cream canister from the edge of the table and squirting a pile into the palm of her hand. Ricky tried to move away, but Penny cornered them in the booth. With an unpleasant squelch, the contents of her hand were splattered on Ricky’s face.

Ricky blindly fumbled for a napkin, almost knocking over their hot chocolate in the process. They wiped off their face and tossed the napkin on the table. “I concede!” they signed, grinning through the remaining whipped cream. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Penny softened. “That you are,” she said, giving them a peck on the lips.

Chapter 7: Day 7: Christmas Morning

Summary:

Title: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Noel's mom gives him the best Christmas morning

Notes:

I thought of a good AN but lost it. oh welsies.

No ships

“Mama! Mama! Santa came!”

A young Noel pounded on his mother's door and sprinted down the stairs. A few moments later, Hannah Gruber emerged from her bedroom in her robe and slippers. “Noel, let mommy get her coffee before you open any gifts, okay?”

“Okay!” Noel called from downstairs. He was sitting on the family sofa, swinging his feet through his footed pajamas, and admiring the Christmas tree by the staircase. He and his mom decorated the whole house this year. He even got to hang the star on top of the tree.

This tree was filled with baubles, craft ornaments from his first-grade class, and little family portraits. All the things that make a Christmas tree special. But to Noel, what mattered most was underneath the tree: presents.

Yes, there weren’t as many as last year, but from what he could tell, none were the stupid RC trucks or his dad's superhero gear. Those were the toys he’d ‘conveniently’ leave at school or give to Ricky.

Hannah appeared beside Noel with a steaming cup of coffee. He looked up at her expectantly.

“Well? Go pick something out!” she said, crossing her legs and leaning back into the sofa. Noel got up and ran to get the first gift under the tree. He sat criss-crossed on the rug and pulled a blue bag into his lap.

Tissue paper flew before Hannah’s eyes as her son eagerly unwrapped the gift. Noel peered down into the bag and gasped.

“Mommy, look! Santa got me a nail polish kit!” he exclaimed, lifting a pink case from the bag.

“He did?” Noel’s mom said. “What color are you going to paint your nails?”

“Hmmm…” Noel examined the array of colors in the box. “I think I’ll paint them purple. That’s my favorite color.”

“I can tell by your room,” Hannah laughed.

Noel carefully set the kit down on the coffee table and reached for the next gift. It was the biggest of the bunch, wrapped in sparkling metallic paper. 

“This one’s from you?” he asked, picking at the corner of the wrapping paper.

“Yep,” Hannah said. “I hope you like it. And I hope they’re your size.” 

Noel tore the gift open, revealing three sets of princess dresses with matching shoes and tiaras. “Dress up clothes?!”

“I thought maybe you could play princesses with Ocean and Constance when they come over later today,” she suggested, pointing out each dress. “Ocean likes Belle, Constance likes Cinderella, and you like Aurora, right?”

“Right!” he said, holding the pink dress up below his chin. “Does this mean I can go as something other than C3PO this Halloween? I wanted to go as Lola Lola, but you said that’s inappropriate, so maybe I can go as Lola Lola dressed up as Aurora!”

“Firstly, you are way too young for that movie. Second, maybe keep the dresses inside,” she warned, but Noel was already taking the final gift out of the pile. He anxiously pulled the item out of its bag, rocking in excitement. 

Inside were Holiday Barbie 1999 and Hollywood Nails Barbie. The first doll wore a beautiful midnight-blue ball gown with silver detailing, while the second wore a green sheer dress with silver stars.

Noel was staring in amazement at the dolls, running his hand over the plastic cases. “How did you know I wanted Barbies?!”

Hannah shrugged. “I see you playing with Constance’s dolls. I thought you might want some that were a bit fancier.”

Noel dropped the dolls on the floor and ran up to hug his mom.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he shouted, throwing his arms around her.

“No problem, honeybee,” she responded, pushing back his bangs to kiss his forehead.

Noel pulled away suddenly. “Wait! I have a gift for you!”

“Aw, you didn’t have to get anything for me,” she said, but Noel was already stumbling to the tree. He pulled out a card from behind the tree and handed it to her. 

“We made Christmas cards in class before break,” he answered, watching her open the envelope. “I used the markers I got for my birthday in March.”

She drew a small Christmas card from the envelope. It was a drawing of her and Noel standing by their Christmas tree, with as much detail as a seven-year-old could achieve.

“Oh my goodness,” she said, her hand covering her mouth and muffling her words. “Did you draw this yourself?”

“Yep!” he replied.

She smiled up at him. “You are one talented kiddo. And a great son.”

---

“Noel! Get out of your pajamas, Mrs. Blackwood is bringing Ocean and Constance over soon!” she called up the stairs, cleaning up the remaining wrapping paper from the living room. A couple of seconds later, she heard the clacking of plastic shoes. Noel appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing his new Aurora costume.

“Oh, you look great!” she said, clapping her hands.

Noel twirled at the top of the stairs. “Connie and Ocean and I are going to play dress up, then do each other's nails, then have pancakes!”

The doorbell rang from behind Hannah. “That must be them!” she shouted at Noel, who came clamoring down the stairs.

The door swung open to reveal the Blackwoods and Ocean standing on the porch. Ocean and Constance wasted no time in sprinting past Hannah and running up to Noel with new gifts to show him.

“Girls, wait- oh, it's no use. They’re excited,” Mary Blackwood sighed, watching Ocean and Constance gawk over the princess dresses Noel was presenting to them.

“Who wouldn’t be? It's Christmas morning!”

“Speaking of,” Mary began, “the place looks wonderful! You really outdid yourself this year, Hannah.”

Hannah smiled bashfully. “It's the least I could do for Noel this year.”

“How’s he taking the news?” Mary asked softly, “About you and Steve?”

“A lot better than I thought he would,” she responded. She glanced back at her son, who was gleefully showing off his Barbies. “I don’t know if it’s just me, but I think he’s been… happier since things ended.”

“Maybe it's because you’re finally letting him be himself,” Mary said.

Hannah sighed. “I hope so. I know his father wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a… shall we say flamboyant son.”

Mary snorted. “Well, you’re doing a good job. And if you ever need any help, know that Mark and I are always here for you. Just give us a call.”

“I will. Thank you for… just everything, Mary.”

“It's really no problem. Now get back to your fashion show, I see some dresses at the top of the stairs.”

Chapter 8: Day 8: Christmas Concert

Summary:

Title: Clarinets of Every Size (And Penny Lambs Who Improvise)

Ocean disappears before her band performance, and Penny has to find her.

Notes:

god school sucks again. my favorite past time is taking it out on sweet little ocean. Also title is a music man ref because thats the show i'm in rn

Ships: Perfectdolls

It was the night of the Saint Cassian Winter Concert. The choir had just performed its set and, for once, was on pitch the whole time! It was a good move on Marcus’s part to pick songs that had a baritone line for Misha and a mezzo line for Ocean.

The choir filed offstage and into the wings, chatting with enthusiasm.

“Did you hear that? I finally hit the high note!”

“Dude, I swear my voice cracked mid-performance.”

“Oh, come on, no one noticed. You sounded great.”

“I could actually hear Misha this time.”

Penny followed them backstage, humming the songs they’d just performed. By the time they reached the miniature dressing room, they were already planning a celebratory dinner at Denny’s after the concert finished.

“I’m usually opposed to shitty diner food, but I’m feeling festive!” Noel said as he assembled his flute on the floor. “It really was a good performance. I hope our luck continues for the band.”

“I need it,” Constance added, dropping her reed into a glass of water. “Ocean’s been nagging me to practice more, but I’d rather do anything else.”

Ricky looked around the circle. “Speaking of, where is Ocean? Isn’t she the first chair clarinet or something?”

“You’re right…” Noel said, setting down his partially constructed flute.

Constance frowned. “She usually practices her music during the orchestra set. It's not like her to take a break or go to the bathroom."

Penny sighed. “I’ll find her,” she said. Penny rose from her spot on the floor and headed out of the changing rooms.

“Thanks, Pen!” Constance called after her. “Remember to check the music room, she might just be grabbing more reeds!”

Penny closed the backstage doors behind her. Ocean wouldn’t go to the choir room ‘just for more reeds’. Something was up, and she could feel it. And it was pulling her outside.

It couldn’t be their performance. They did great! It wasn’t the audience either, considering this was the first year they actually received applause after a show.

Penny pushed the large double doors open and stepped into the chilly December air. A few snowflakes fell onto her braids as she walked down the stairs leading up to the school.

When she climbed down the concrete steps, she heard muffled sobbing coming from a tree a couple of meters away. Her ears perked up, and she went to follow the noise. The sound of her feet walking through the snow must have alerted whoever was crying because it stopped shortly thereafter.

“Ocean?” Penny called out. She stuck her hands in her dress pockets, really wishing she’d brought some gloves outside with her. 

“Just leave me alone, Penny. I’m fine,” Ocean replied. She ducked back behind the tree.

Penny shifted in the snow. Knowing what to do in this type of situation was a Constance thing, not a her thing.

She cleared her throat. “Band goes on in less than ten minutes… don’t you need to like soak your reeds or whatever clarinets do?”

“Let them play without me. Tell Constance or Hank they can have my solo.”

Ocean was giving up an opportunity to be in the spotlight? And neglecting her duties to the school band? Something was really wrong here.

“Who are you and what did you do to Ocean?” she joked, but elicited no laugh from Ocean. “Sorry, bad joke. I make those a lot.”

Penny had to regroup. Think of a new way to comfort her or get her into the concert. Preferably the latter, since the orchestra had just started their second-to-last piece of the night.

Penny sat beside Ocean. She didn’t move away, which was a good sign.

“You- uh… did great out there tonight. I think you sounded beautiful on the mezzo part.”

Ocean nodded. “I just wish they came to see it.”

Penny raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“My parents,” Ocean said, pulling her legs up to her chest. “They promised they’d come tonight and watch me sing. They aren’t here.”

“You sure they’re not just in the back? Or in the bathroom?”

Ocean kicked some snow out from under her feet. “I’m sure. I looked through the whole audience and couldn’t see a speck of red hair. Or smell any weed.”

“Why do you think they missed it?” Penny asked. Her motivation had shifted from ‘get her inside’ to ‘make sure she’s okay’.

“They miss everything,” Ocean began. “All my recitals, spelling bees, graduations, even my own birthday parties. They’re too stoned to remember to come, no matter how many times I remind them.”

Penny tugged at a string on her blouse. “So you just aren’t going to play tonight?”

Ocean nodded. “I’ve given up on trying to show them how great I am. I want them to look at me and think, ‘hey, maybe our daughter isn’t so bad’! I want them to be proud of me for something other than hitting a vape.”

“Then why do you keep trying to prove it to them if they’ll never listen?” Penny asked. “In all honesty, they don’t seem to be interested in your accomplishments, so why do you only perform for them?”

“I…” Ocean stumbled.

“I just want to be loved,” she admitted, hanging her head.

“So play for someone who already does,” Penny said softly.

Ocean huffed. “And who would that be?"

“Me,” Penny whispered.

Ocean snapped her head up. “What?”

“I love you, Ocean. So, play for me, and I’ll listen.”

Ocean broke eye contact. “I’m sorry, I just…”

A love confession right after she told you about her neglectful home life?! Wrong move, Penny Lamb!

Penny’s mind shifted into panic mode. The same place it goes when she’s called a feminist lesbian or has her bag lit on fire.

Penny turned away. “I’ll leave you alone, Ocean, it’s what I should’ve done in the first place-”

Just then, Ocean put her hand on Penny’s and held her down. Penny looked back around.

“Take me out to dinner this Friday, and I’ll perform,” Ocean said, staring Penny down.

Penny let out an astonished laugh. “Really?”

“Really,” she responded. 

“Well, get on the stage!” Penny exclaimed, standing up and holding out a hand for Ocean. Ocean took it and hoisted herself, holding her clarinet case in her other hand. She gave Penny a quick peck and ran off into the building.

Chapter 9: Day 9: Family Gatherings

Summary:

Title: Don't Be Chicken

Misha has Christmas dinner with the Grubers and meets Noel's mother.

Notes:

Not quite the prompt, but if I can make them,,Ii can break them. Also I was writing this during music man rehearsal, and it's so fkin embarrassing writing fan fiction in public. Very hard to concentrate when they're singing Shipoopi and doing flips five feet away from you.
also random but i love hannah gruber so guess who's back

Ships: Nisha

Misha was sitting in his car, parked outside the Gruber residence. He was about twenty minutes early for the family dinner, but his nerves told him to show up now, or be late.

It wasn’t even a full family gathering; just Noel, Noel’s mom, and him. But this was the first time he was meeting Noel’s mom. And while Misha was proud of the gangster reputation he had earned in Uranium, he assumed Noel’s mom would disagree. That’s why he was wearing the slacks and button-down from his Saint Cassian uniform: the only formal attire he owned.

Noel tapped the window of Misha’s car. Misha’s gaze jolted up from the steering wheel. 

Misha rolled down the window. “Poet?”

Noel looked him up and down. “What are you wearing? I’ve never seen you wear anything fancy.”

“Figured I’d wear something nice,” Misha shrugged. “It’s a special occasion, так?”

“I’m just saying that you’ve never worn anything besides sweats or baggy jeans outside of school,” Noel said, leaning through his car window. “Also, dinner starts at 5:30. It’s 5:10.”

Misha laughed nervously. “Just- uh… wanted to make a good impression?”

Noel huffed. “My mom already loves you; you don’t need to try that hard to earn her respect. Now come on, she won’t care that you’re early.”

Misha pushed open the car door and followed Noel up the driveway. Noel wasn’t wearing anything fancy, only a white sweater and jeans, but Misha still felt underdressed. 

“You’ll do great,” Noel said, sensing his anxiety. “As I said, my mom’s just glad to have someone else over for Christmas. She’s not doing a full evaluation of your outfit or behavior. Just don’t tell her about us ditching class and hooking up behind the bleachers.”

Misha nodded, stepping up onto the front porch. Noel took a key out of his pocket and opened the front door.

Instantly, the smell of burnt chicken hit the two boys. Misha cringed and stepped further into the house.

“Mom! Misha’s here!” Noel called out into the kitchen. Misha heard pans clattering from inside before a woman with a messy brown bun and a stained apron ran into the living room.

“Misha! Hello!” she exclaimed, tossing her oven mitts onto the sofa. She grabbed Misha’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. 

Misha smiled awkwardly. “Hello, Ms. Gruber-”

“Oh, call me Hannah!” she interrupted. 

Misha nodded sharply. “Sorry, Hannah.”

“Mom, we-”

Hannah brushed her son off. “Give me a second with your boyfriend. Misha, kitchen. Right now.”

Misha shot Noel a panicked look. Noel shrugged and gestured Misha off.

Misha followed Noel’s mother into the kitchen, anxiously adjusting his collar. He’s seen the movies; he’s about to be executed. It doesn’t matter how ‘nice’ or ‘relaxed’ Noel said she was. He was her son’s first boyfriend, which meant she’d be-"

“Chicken. I was supposed to be making chicken,” she said, presenting the burnt dish to Misha.

Misha snapped out of his internal monologue. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I burnt the Christmas dinner. I don’t know why I trusted myself with the job. I’m an awful cook,” she rambled, taking off her apron and tossing it to Misha. “Do you think you could whip something up for dinner tonight? It could just be pasta or you ordering a pizza, it doesn’t matter.”

Misha stuttered. “I… yeah, I can cook-”

Hannah patted him on the back. “Great job, son! If you do it well, I’ll let Noel keep you.”

She strutted out of the room, grabbing a glass of wine on her way out.

Son. She called him ‘son’. And said that Noel could keep him.

Score!

Notes:

sorry it was short bros. wanted to get some sleep tonight

Chapter 10: Day 10: The Blackwood Cafe

Summary:

Title: Tripped and Fell Into Your Arms

Ocean and Constance decorate the Blackwood Cafe together, while Ocean deals with her feelings.

Notes:

The Santas that drive around town on firetrucks are out tonight. Not quite setting the ambiance I want. Also, lmk if I'm doing too many Blackrose fics, it's just where my mind seems to go.

Ships: Blackrose

It was a quiet November evening in the Blackwood Cafe. The first snow of the season was falling outside the window, which was steaming up from inside.

“Just these boxes?” Ocean asked, setting a large box on one of the tables. The girls were given the job of decorating the Blackwood Cafe for Christmas, and the first step was hauling in all the crates from the garage. Luckily, that was the worst part of the setup. At least they hoped it was.

“Yep,” Constance said, flipping open the lids. “Some of these are for the house, most are for the cafe. We’ll have to pull out the step ladder to hang the garlands and Christmas lights, but the rest we can do on foot.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Ocean agreed, grabbing the box with the wall decorations. “Always start with the garlands and lights, since they’re the base of your decor.”

“Got it,” Constance said. She ran off to grab a step ladder while Ocean began untangling the lights from the spool. She had a strategy for this. Just walk back, wait for it to catch, untangle, then repeat. Walk back, wait for it to catch, untangle, repeat. Walk back, wait for it to catch, untangle, repeat. Walk back-

“Oomph!”

Ocean whipped around, realizing she had walked straight into Constance. They were standing face to face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve-”

“No, don’t be sorry!” Ocean interrupted, dropping her Christmas lights and taking Constance’s hands. “I shouldn’t have been blindly walking backward. Are you alright?”

“All good,” Constance sighed. She squeezed Ocean's hand tenderly. “You?

“Good," she smiled. "Now, lights!”

Ocean picked up the abandoned string of lights, her fingers brushing Constance’s as she passed it over. “If I get any knots, you untangle them, but it should be clear for the most part,” she said, grabbing the step ladder from Constance. Since she was taller, it was only fair that she hung up the lights around the cafe. Still, at five-foot-two, reaching above the tables would be quite the challenge.

Ocean climbed to the top of the ladder and hung the first strand. It was a stretch, but she managed to get across one of the smaller tables.

“You okay up there?” Constance asked, still feeding her string. Ocean threw her a thumbs-up and climbed down the ladder, moving it a few yards to the right before ascending once more. This time, she needed to bend over a significantly larger booth than before. Why couldn’t the sadists who built this place have installed the hangers just a few feet further away from the tables?!

Whatever. She could make it.

Ocean leaned over, trying to balance herself on the wall. She looped the lights over the hook. All that was needed was a good push to get her back on her feet.

With a strong shove, she forced herself off the wall. For a moment, she thought she’d made it before she felt herself falling back further than intended.

Fiddlesticks.

The ceiling was getting further and further away from her as she hurtled to the ground. This was the moment where she crashed to the floor, broke her arm, and missed the rest of the first semester because she’s tied up in the hospital-

Ocean felt herself stop midair. Constance was right behind her, holding her up by the arms.

The two girls made eye contact. Their faces were only a few inches away.

Ocean laughed hollowly, her eyes blown wide. She pulled herself away from Constance. “Not the best idea?”

“No shit, Ocean!” Constance said, giggling. She set Ocean down and put an arm on her back, leading her into a booth. “You should sit down after that; your heart is racing.”

Ocean protested against taking a break right after they started, but sat anyway. 

Constance grabbed the step ladder and disassembled it. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate. You, stay here.”

“Fine,” Ocean responded. Constance walked behind the counter and began to prepare the hot cocoa machine.

This whole ordeal was making Ocean think… differently about their interactions. She had been, for lack of a better word, flirting with Constance for a couple of months now. Not intentionally, but her words were often more affectionate than she intended.

Then there was tonight. Something was different each time they rammed into each other or tripped into the other's arms. Something she couldn’t quite place, but was shifting out of the zone of mutually platonic or one-sided adoration.

She’d been developing a crush on Constance ever since the junior year. She knew that, and she’d been waiting for this crush to fade just like the others.

But it wasn’t. Penny’s crush lasted a month. Tammy was a week. Trishna was two months. But Constance was going on years now. 

So where was this going? Where were they going?

Ocean’s thoughts were interrupted by Constance sliding a hot chocolate in front of her. “Vegan hot chocolate with no whipped cream, no marshmallows, and one candy cane.”

“God, you’re perfect,” Ocean sighed, taking her candy cane out of the drink and sucking on it. Constance smiled and put her own mug across from Ocean.

The two sat in silence, taking sips and exchanging giggles. Still, something lingered in the air.

Ocean knew Constance felt it. She saw her smile wavering. She had to do something.

But what could she do? Yes, she’s confrontational, but not when it comes to romance. She’d never bring up feelings on her own accord. That’s what Constance did; she was the therapist, Ocean was the client. If Constance wanted to talk about what was happening between them, then so be it, but Ocean wasn’t starting this conversation.

Even if it meant waiting another couple of weeks for something to happen. Or months. Or years. Maybe it would never happen, and she’d die single while Constance finds the person of her dreams.

Ocean gazed helplessly into her drink. No matter what, she wasn’t budging. She’ll shove it down for another decorating session.

Chapter 11: Day 11: Colds/Winter Sickness

Summary:

Title: Baby, it's cold outside

Misha catches a cold, and Constance takes care of him

Notes:

had hamilton stuck in my head this whole time, smh. first one to catch the ref gets a gold star

Ships: Platonic or romantic Sugarraps, depending on your interpretation.

“Si-ilent night

Ho-oly night

All is calm, all is-”

“Achoo!”

The choir whirled around to face Misha, who was trying to wipe his nose with his hand. Ocean visibly recoiled.

“Misha, this is the sixth time you’ve sneezed during choir. Are you sure you're fine?” Noel asked softly.

“I told you, I am fine,” he said, his voice congested.

Ocean took a step back. “We have a concert in less than a month!. If you’re sick, stay home and don’t get the rest of us sick!”

“I am not sick!” he insisted. “Misha Bachynskyi doesn’t get sick. He sits in ice baths and does… manly shit, I don’t know!”

Noel pressed a hand to his forehead. “Yep, you have a fever. It’s probably just a cold, nothing major.”

“I-”

“Home, now,” Ocean said, ushering him to the door. “This is the one time I’ll let you skip practice. I won’t let anyone else in my choir get sick.”

“I can’t go home!” Misha admitted. “My parents don’t turn on the heating in the basement. It’s fucking freezing down there! If I have a cold, it’ll only make it worse.”

The choir looked at him in shock. Misha sniffled and grabbed a tissue from the box by the door.

They stood in an awkward silence before Constance spoke up. “You could come over to my place,” she suggested. “You can sleep on our couch while you recover. My brother’s sick all the time, so we’ve got everything you need.”

Misha looked up from his Kleenex. “You sure?”

Constance nodded, smiling. “I’ll make you soup. C’mon.”

Misha followed Constance out of the choir room, hearing the choir resume their song as they left. The two walked down the empty halls towards the exit.

“My house isn’t too far from here,” Constance said, swinging a jacket over her shoulders. “It’s still a walk in the snow, which sucks, but we’ll get there quickly.”

She pushed open the doors, and the two headed out into the snowy evening. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, providing dim light for the walk home.

Their shoes crunched through the light snow on the pavement. A few falkes fell behind them as they approached Main Street.

“I don’t remember if you’ve been to my flat, but it's right above the cafe,” Constance said, pointing to the cafe a block ahead. Misha hummed in acknowledgement.

The two walked for a short while longer before turning into the Blackwood Cafe. The bell above the door rang when they entered, alerting Mrs. Blackwood at the counter.

“Constance!” she called, passing a customer their drink. “Did choir practice end early today?”

“It never ends early, mama,” Constance replied. “Misha’s sick, so I offered to let him come here.”

Misha waved from behind Constance, shooting her mom a crooked smile. Mary Blackwood was aware of all the choir members’ living situations, having to house quite a few of them in her time. She didn’t ask any questions. “You know where the medicine is. Make him some soup and crackers, and don’t let him near Tommy. That kid has the immune system of a rottweiler.”

Constance nodded and grabbed his arm. She led him behind the counter and up the staircase to the second floor. Upstairs, the flat was warm and cozy, filled with Christmas decorations and a homely feeling. Misha took it all in for a moment, his eyes wider than before.

“Lie down on the couch,” Constance directed. “The remote’s on the coffee table. My mom might pick up some pajamas for you, but for now, wear some blankets. I’ll make you some soup and get you that cold medicine.”

Misha flopped down on the couch, still sniffling. Constance tossed a blanket over his shoulders before heading toward the kitchen.

Misha sighed, ashamed of how soft he was letting himself become. Maybe watching television could bring him back to normal. At least, he hoped it could.

He flicked on the screen, bouncing his leg as it flashed Tommy's cartoons

As much as he hated to admit it, watching cartoons right now sounded really nice. He could just watch one and binge the Saw franchise after. That was a good plan.

Twenty minutes later, he was still watching. One episode led to the next, and soon he was hooked. God, he was binging cartoons like a child. 

Constance reemerged from the kitchen a few moments later, carrying a tray of tomato soup, goldfish, and grilled cheese.

“I know you’re supposed to have chicken noodle soup when you're sick, but I think tomato goes better with grilled cheese,” she said. Misha, hearing her behind him, rushed to turn off the TV.

Constance raised a brow and watched him wildly fumble with the remote. She set the food down in front of him as he finally managed to power off the TV.

“You… okay?” she asked, brushing a few crumbs off of Misha's blanket.

“You have a very confusing television,” he joked. “Can’t figure out how to change the channel… heh.”

Constance passed him the remote, seeing through his facade. “You’re allowed to watch cartoons, Misha. I don’t care, as long as you eat some soup while you do it.”

Misha tried to argue, but she pushed the tray closer. “There’s a cup of medicine on there. I’ll leave you alone for now.”

With that, she grabbed her backpack from beside the couch and headed into her bedroom. Misha was left alone with nothing but warm food, blankets, and some nice cartoons.

Fuck it. He deserved this.

He downed the cold medicine like a shot and washed it down with chocolate milk. The TV was turned back on shortly after. He couldn’t say no to this when it was all just given to him. He dipped his grilled cheese into his tomato soup and leaned back, finally relaxing.

Chapter 12: Day 12: Ice Skating

Summary:

Title: Glide Into My Heart

Misha takes Penny ice skating for the first time, and things don't go as planned

Notes:

I feel like Penny's a bit OOC, but she's the hardest character to get right. I will praise any and all good Penny Lamb interpretations.

Ships: Eggdolls

“What do you mean you’ve never skated? Did they not have ice in Alysium?”

“Well, the local pond froze over, but that was our drinking water. We couldn’t contaminate it.”

Misha was on his knees, tying Penny’s skates for her as she talked. “Still, I would’ve taken you skating two winters ago if I’d known. I can get you into Uranium’s ice rink free of charge with my Saint Cassian hockey pass.”

Penny shrugged. “I wasn’t really interested in skating.”

Misha finished tying her shoe and kissed the tip. “Not even after you got a cool boyfriend who played hockey?”

“Nope,” she said bluntly. Misha snickered and stood up, holding out a hand for Penny.

“Just try balancing when we get to the rink,” he suggested. Penny’s legs shook when she tried standing up, causing her to stumble into Misha’s arms and fall into his sweatshirt.

“This isn’t fun,” she said, her speech muffled by Misha’s chest.

Misha pulled her back up. “Just follow my lead. Keep your feet low to the ground and walk flat.”

Penny crept towards the ice while Misha supported her waist. “A few more steps, then you can take off your skate guards and step on the rink. That’s where the fun begins.”

Soon, Penny was on the brink of the ice. Misha showed her how to remove her skate guards, which she completed with fair ease.

“Now, all you need to do is get out there and step on the ice. Bend your knees and hips so your weight is centered,” he demonstrated. Penny clumsily followed suit. “Put your arms out in front of you for balance and look straight up.”

Misha skated out onto the ice effortlessly, offering Penny a hand to steady herself. She took his hand and stepped out, slipping wildly before desperately grabbing onto the bar.

“You’re… getting better?” Misha commented, his tone unsure. “Try to form a ‘V’ with your feet. It’ll help with balance and proper form.”

Penny adjusted her toe positioning. “Now, just take a few steps forward. Keep your knees bent and don’t lift your feet too high,” Misha said.

“I’m trying!” Penny exclaimed, frustrated with her stance. She took a step forward and swerved into the wall.

“Take your time, білий ведмідь,” he said, trying to stabilize her. “It gets easier as you go on.”

Penny took a few smaller steps. It took a while, but she began to get the hang of it.

“You ready to start gliding?” he asked. Penny nodded and gripped Misha’s gloved hand tighter. “All you need to do is push from the inside of your shoe and let your other foot glide. Then, bring your pushing foot back to your gliding one. Kinda like swimming.”

“I can’t swim either,” Penny said. “Drinking water contamination.”

“Right,” Misha held out his hand. “Just… try your best, and I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

Penny took a deep breath and pushed. Surprisingly, she managed to glide a good distance. Her first foot came back together with her gliding one.

“Misha, look! I’m skating!” She exclaimed in awe of herself.

“Are you ready for me to let go?” Misha asked. 

Penny nodded, looking straight ahead. “Ready.”

Misha dropped his hand and glided away from her. Penny initially wobbled, but soon was skating down the rink.

Penny laughed in ecstasy, closing her eyes and letting her feet carry her across the ice.

“Penny?” Misha called. “Penny! Watch out!” 

Penny opened her eyes. “What? What do you mean-“

Suddenly, Penny collided with another skater. She yelped in surprise before slamming down on the cold, hard ice.

Misha skated up to her. “Fuck, Люба! Are you alright?”

Penny groaned from the ice. Misha bent down beside her. “Say something, Penny!"

“Is this how Ezra felt every time he faked a spaz attack and fell on the tile floor of Walmart?”

Misha snorted. “Ice is a different kind of pain. That is why hockey players wear so much padding,” he joked. Penny laughed, but doubled over in pain a moment later.

“My ribs…” she murmured.

“Right. No laughing with rib pain,” he corrected. He hooked his arm under Penny’s knees and another behind her back. He lifted her off the ice, lunging to keep himself steady. “Comfortable?”

Penny’s head lulled. “No…”

“Too bad,” he slid away. “Getting you onto solid ground is our number one priority.”

Misha was able to skate off fairly quickly, having carried a number of his injured teammates in the past. Soon, he was off the ice and setting Penny down on a bench. He took off his skates first, then unlaced his girlfriend’s.

“You think you need to go to first aid?” he asked. 

Penny shook her head. “Just… take me to the Saint Cassian dorms. I have a heating pad I can use on my ribs.”

Misha tied his own shoes. “Alright then. Are you okay to walk back to my car?”

“Well, yes, but…” she sweetly teased.

“You want me to carry you?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Penny lifted her arms for Misha to lift her bridal style. He sighed and scooped Penny off the bench.

“The walk is less than a hundred meters away, you know,” Misha said. He pushed open the doors and left the skating rink.

“Yes, but when else can I get you to carry me?” Penny questioned as he took her through the lobby. “I like the princess treatment.”

Misha rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than Ocean.”

“That’s the meanest thing anyone’s said to me all year,” she huffed.

Misha pushed open the entrance doors with his back. “It’s January. January second. The bar is still fairly low.”

Penny shrugged. “Fair point.”

Misha trudged to his car and opened the passenger door. He set Penny down and buckled her in before rounding to the other side and getting in himself.

“I also expect to be carried up to my dorm,” she said, grinning.

Misha flicked on the engine. “That’s two flights of stairs!”

Penny hummed. “And who was body slammed into a huge chunk of ice after her boyfriend took her skating?”

“You.”

“That’s right,” she pecked his cheek. “Two flights.”

Chapter 13: Day 13: Santa Clause

Summary:

Title: Santa, Baby

Misha becomes a mall Santa to keep Noel company

Notes:

Written with a 102-degree fever, a mix of Tylenol and DayQuil, and que-to-que tech with rainbow strobe lights trying to take my light sensitive ass out. AO3 curse is real

Ships: Nisha

Noel hated working at Taco Bell; that was a given. But what he really hated was working at Taco Bell during the holidays. More people were in the Mega Mall than ever, which meant he was taking more orders, not to mention the increase in Saint Cassian students who came to embarrass him. 

Worst of all, and he’d never admit it, he was lonely. Slaving away behind the counter of a Taco Bell with the only other person in the storefront being a bratty Saint Cassian graduate was not an ideal way to spend the ‘most wonderful time of the year’.

At least there was amusement in watching the humiliation of the idiot who decided to sign up and become a mall Santa. The large Christmas tree where Santa sat was in the middle of the food court. Every year, he observed a cycle of middle-aged men donning beards, hoping to bring joy to children, only to lose the sparkle in their eyes by the third day, when they realize that kids these days are assholes. 

There wasn’t a lot of joy in Noel’s life, but the mall Santa was one of them. 

Speaking of, the Santa was being escorted to his chair right now by a bunch of teens dressed like elves. When everyone knows everyone in Uranium, it's easy to recognize who’s under the beard, and by that extension, if they’re wearing a fat suit. 

Noel leaned over the counter, trying to get a glimpse of his face. If Santa just turned this way a little more…

“Excuse me!” Ricky’s AAC said. 

Noel snapped back to reality and sighed. “What the hell do you want, Ricky?”

Ricky smiled and got to typing. “Two supreme Doritos locos tacos, one nachos bell grande, two beefy five-layered burritos, two large baja blasts, and two packets of diablo sauce.”

“Jesus Christ, Ricky,” Noel murmured, trying to ring everything up. “Did your doctor tell you to gain weight again?”

“Well, yes, but I’m also feeding Misha.”

Noel looked around the food court. “Where is he?” Noel asked. Ricky pointed at the horde of elves surrounding Santa. 

Noel couldn’t help but laugh. “Misha Bachynskyi sunk his pride low enough to become one of Santa’s elves?”

Ricky shook his head. “Look closer.”

Noel squinted. “I don’t…”

Like clockwork, the Santa turned around and waved at Noel. He instantly recognized those bushy eyebrows and gap-toothed smile.

“Holy shit, Misha is the Santa?” Noel asked incredulously. 

Ricky nodded. “He said he knew how miserable you were, working in December, and decided to become the mall Santa to keep you company. Apparently, they ran out of old men who wanted to do it.

“I…” Noel stuttered. “Ask Mellissa to charge you $37.69. I’m going to talk to him.”

“Doesn’t Melissa work in the kitchen?”

Noel ignored his question and exited the counter. He speedwalked across the tile floor and swerved to get in line for the Santa meet-and-greet.

“Hi there!” one of the elves chirped. “Do you have a younger sibling interested in seeing Santa today?”

“Move,” Noel ordered, shoving her out of the way. He stormed through the queue and to the front of the line.

Misha was sitting in a red chair, wearing the mall’s old Santa costume and beard, which no doubt smelled like tears, vomit, and piss from years of kids sitting on his lap.

Noel approached his boyfriend, who was accompanied by an army of elves and helpers. Misha looked up and smiled at him. “Why, hello there-”

“What are you doing here?” Noel interrogated, taking off his Taco Bell headband. “Out of all winter break side gigs, why are you a mall Santa?”

“Easy!” Misha said. “I get to spend time with kids, and I get to hang out with my boyfriend during breaks. Win-win!”

“First off,” Noel began, “we don’t get breaks. Nobody who works in the mall does. Secondly, these kids will eat you alive. When was the last time you visited Saint Monica Elementary? They made one of the nuns cry.”

Misha snorted, “They cannot be that bad.”

”Oh yeah? I’ve been working in this food court for two years now, and I’ve seen it all.” Noel looked over his shoulder and saw a mother and son approach the tree. “Give it a try with that family.”

“Alright, bet!” he said triumphantly, allowing Noel to back off. Misha adjusted his beard and smiled at the coming family.

“Why hello there, little one!” he exclaimed. The mother sighed and let her son run to Misha’s lap.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said, looking down at her watch. “Tell Santa what you want “for Christmas, honey.”

The boy looked up at Misha and tugged at his beard. “I want a web shooter,” he said. “Like the one that Spider-Man has. But a real one that has webs in it. Not any of that plastic bullshit.”

Misha did a double-take at his language. Yes, he cursed all the time, but this kid was eight!

“Whoa,” he laughed nervously. “Let's not use those kinds of words. That might get you on the naughty list, young man.”

The boy spat into his beard. Misha visibly recoiled and looked to his mom for help. Of course, the mother was scrolling on her phone.

“Alright, get off my lap, you little shit,” Misha said, pushing the kid off his leg.

Noel ran back to the chair. “Misha! You don’t just say that to him,” he whispered as the kid tore back to his mom. “He’s eight, he doesn’t know any better.”

“He needs discipline, no?” Misha asked, gesturing to the kid yanking on his mom’s dress for attention. “Would you stand around and let our kids walk all over us like that?”

Noel froze. “I’m sorry, what? Our kids?”

Misha opened and closed his mouth helplessly. “I just—I was thinking that-... fuck it, I want kids someday, and I want them with you. Why else would I choose this dumbass job if not to get closer to you and practice getting shit on by whiny toddlers?”

Noel was taken aback. They were both still teenagers, fresh out of high school, but something about the way Misha said it made Noel want it too. The life, the house, the baby-

“Bachynskyi!” Noel whirled around to face one of the mall administrators, who was marching towards the boys. “I just got a complaint from a mother that you cursed out her eight-year-old! Is this true?”

Misha stuttered. “He was the one who swore first. Then, he spat on me!”

The admin put his hands on his hips. “I’ve had Santas go through much worse with a smile! You’re fired, Bachynskyi.”

Misha threw his beard to the ground. A few kids in the queue gasped in horror. “Fine! I quit!”

With that, Misha stormed towards the scarcely used staff break room, ready to strip down and leave.

“Misha, wait!” Noel called, peaking out from behind the tree. Misha looked over his shoulder. “Come over tonight, then we’ll talk.”

Misha nodded with a smile. Noel waved him goodbye and watched him parade back to the dressing room in his stupid red suit.

Chapter 14

“Alright, soldiers! The rules are simple: no aiming for my cane or tablet, and the boundaries are within Garland Park. Besides that, go wild.”

The choir knew putting Ricky in charge of their annual holiday activity was a bad decision. Years prior, they’d done things like Christmas cookie decorating or a holiday movie marathon, so an intense snowball war was… out of the norm.

“Everyone gets thirty seconds to gather snowballs and run from the starting point. Each person has three lives, but you lose one every time you're hit. You can’t hit someone two times in a row, or you will be disqualified. The only exception to this rule is if you’re one of the final two players. You're allowed to hide wherever you want in the park. The winner is the last person with any lives left. It’s pretty simple if you think about it.”

Each member of the choir provided some form of acknowledgement to Ricky. Ricky smiled. “If we’re ready,” they typed, “the thirty-second timer starts… NOW!"

---

Constance made a mad dash for the corner of the park. Her strategy was simple: hide until she was one of two people left. Then, she’d emerge from her spot and victoriously swing her final snowball at the other person left.

She knew the perfect hiding spot. She’d squeeze herself into the winding tube slide that her brother always hides in during hide and seek. If she spread her legs and arms wide enough, she could lodge herself halfway down the slide. 

Constance approached the tucked-away playground and climbed up the stairs. In case anyone did manage to find her, she scraped some snow off the top of the slide and formed an oblong snowball. Perfection.

Once she made it to the top of the stairs, she sat herself down at the entrance to the slide. Bracing for impact, she pushed herself into the winding tube. Instantly, the shock of cold plastic scraping against her back and thighs hit her. This slide was clearly meant for kids with greater pain tolerances than she had. Her legs and arms reflexively sprang out, sticking her in the middle of the slide. Now, she waited.

---

“Noel! Get back here!”

Noel sprinted as fast as a man who always skipped gym could. Ocean was getting closer, and he didn’t have the aim or strength to hit her with a snowball. Unfortunately, Ocean was the captain of the softball team and could hit him from a mile away. 

He had a plan. He was going to take a page out of Ezra Lamb’s playbook.

Noel dropped to his knees and began hacking wildly. Stunned, Ocean dropped the snow and ran over to him.

“Noel?!” she cried, patting his back uselessly.

“My wheeze inhaler!” he gasped. Noel pretended to fumble through his pockets while gathering snow beneath him.

“Okay, stay calm,” she assured him. “I’ll look through your pockets. Just focus on breathing and-”

Noel whipped around and hurled a snowball towards her face. Ocean yelped from the cold contact as Noel got up and ran away.

“You liar!” she screamed. “You’re not even an asthmatic!”

Noel threw an extra for good measure.

---

Eliminations: Noel Gruber (disqualified)

Ricky finished writing on the whiteboard and tossed the pen to Noel, who was sitting on a tree stump and drinking hot chocolate.

“She deserved it!” Noel insisted. “She’s known me for eleven years; she should know I don’t have asthma.”

“Still, you faked a medical emergency,” Ricky signed. “And you hit her twice in a row. That's a disqualifier, but your initial attacks on her and Penny are still valid."

Noel huffed and crossed his legs.

---

Misha was trekking through the snow with a load of snowballs in his arms. He remembered playing war with the other kids in Ukraine and was well-versed in the art of throwing toy grenades.

He crept through the wooded side of the park, the winter sun casting a light through the leaves. He’d already lost one life to Ocean, but hit her in return. He needed to get Penny, Ricky, or Constance next.

Just then, he heard the familiar clicking of Ricky’s cane a couple of meters away. He tossed a snowball around in his hand and bent around the tree. Ricky was drawing closer. Misha loaded up his throw and pelted one at Ricky’s torso.

He ducked behind the tree right before he heard an oomph come from the other side. He pumped his fist in the air and began to run away.

Right as he took off, he felt a snowball hit him right in the knee. He shivered and turned around to face his assailant.

Ricky glared at him. “Not cool, Misha. Welcome to the one life club.”

Misha snorted. “Well, I-”

Another snowball unexpectedly hit him in the head, with another promptly landing in Ricky’s hair. He looked up into the tree above him, where Penny was sitting with a horde of snowballs, smiling mischievously.

“You’re both out!”

---

Eliminations: Noel Gruber (disqualified), Misha Bachynskyi, Ricky Potts

“This is totally unfair!” Misha said, chugging his second hot chocolate of the afternoon. "I mean, you can’t just do that when a guy’s defenseless!”

“I respect her strategy, for one,” Ricky signed. “Taking the high ground on your opponents is an admirable move.”

“Well, let's wait for the girls to fight it out. I put five dollars on Penny,” said Misha.

Ricky pulled out their own banknote. “I think Ocean has a chance. Objectively, she has the best aim.”

Misha hummed. “Well, ten dollars on the line!”

---

Ocean adjusted her beanie. Having one life was perilous, and she had no clue where the other girls were. She saw Ricky and Misha make the walk of shame back to home base earlier and knew the end was near.

Right as she was about to search somewhere besides the miniature forest, she saw a pair of dangling legs covered in Band-Aids. 

Penny.

Ocean aimed her snowball and swung it at Penny’s ankles. Penny, who was startled by the unexpected contact, yelped and pulled her legs up. Ocean sprinted out of the forest and ran towards the playground.

Penny leaped off her tree branch with surprising grace and chased after Ocean. The two girls ran through the park with snow and frost crackling beneath their feet until they reached the play structure. 

Ocean spun around to confront Penny, who was gathering up snow by her feet. “Penny, we can still-”

Penny flung the snow at Ocean, who gasped in betrayal. “Hey, I thought we were going to talk this out!”

Penny shrugged unapologetically. “I can't let it go when you got me down to my last life, can I? Besides, all's fair in love and war."

“This isn’t a war, it’s a stupid snowball fight!”

Penny opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a firm snowball to the head. A snowball that came from the tube slide.

---

Eliminations: Noel Gruber (disqualified), Misha Bachynskyi, Ricky Potts, Ocean O’Connell-Rosenberg, and Penny Lamb.

Winner: Constance Blackwood

Prize: A twenty-dollar gift card to Applebee's and a certificate my moms made.

 

CONGRADULATIONS CONSTANCE

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Hortensia's RTC Oneshots